Fannie Hill's Day in Court
by G. Sam Carr

As a reporter for the Lead Daily Call, I was often envious of my counterparts working the crime scenes in our wild sister city of Deadwood. It seemed that every incident they came across turned out to be a story. Lead, on the other hand, was more of a family town where most people lived their daily lives in relative quiet and seclusion. But when it came to "ladies of the night" making news, Lead held its own.

My name is Felix Hayes and on June 22, 1905, I was in courtroom of Judge Walsh as he conducted a hearing on the case of Hill and Pinkham vs. the City of Lead.

The hearing started by the court clerk yelling, "Police Officer Woolcox come forward and take the stand."

Woolcox, a short, skinny, bald-headed man, rose to his feet, puffed out his chest, and carefully placed his dress cap under his left arm. Then as if making sure everyone got a good look at him, he slowly turned in a full circle before marching to the witness stand.

"Officer Woolcox, you were on duty in the early morning hours of June 22?" asked Judge Walsh.

"Yes, sir."

"Was there anything unusual that happened that morning?"

"There sure was, Your Honor. Officer Noonan and myself were playing cribbage in the stationhouse when we got a call that all hell was breaking out in the Tenderloin District. Naturally we responded immediately. When we got to North Bleeker Street we witnessed several people trying to peer inside the Three Fives Resort owned by Fannie Hill. When we got closer, we heard cussing, screaming and yelling."

He looked around the room waiting for his words to sink in. "When Noonan and I broke through the crowd and went inside, we found Fannie and one of her girls rolling around on the floor. There was blood and hair all over the place and both women's clothes were so tattered and torn they were practically naked."

"Why were they fighting?"

"Damned if I know, Judge. We broke up the fight, wrapped some table cloths around them and took them to jail."

"You have anything else you want to say?"

"No, Your Honor."

"Bring in Fannie Hill." Judge Walsh ordered.

I had seen Fannie Hill on several occasions and was expecting a pretty and well-groomed, fair-skinned woman to take the stand. Instead, as the door to the right of the judge's bench opened, a court officer led in a woman wearing a wrinkled blue-cotton jailhouse dress. Her dark hair was disheveled and she sported a purple bruise that seemed to cover half of the right side of her face. Her eye was so swollen she was forced to peer through a slit no wider than a matchstick. When the officer grabbed her arm to lead her to the witness stand, she pulled away and said, "Get your slimy hands off me. I know how to get to the damned chair. It ain't the first time." She then climbed onto the seat, leaned back and gave the judge a dirty look before saying, "Give me my fine and let me get out of here."

Judge Walsh grinned and said, "What's the matter, don't you like our company, Fannie? You're not getting out of here until you honor us with your version of what went on at your place this morning."

"Ain't nothin' to tell, Judge. I caught that little snake Julia Pinkham holding out on me. When I asked her about it, she lied to me. That really made me mad, so I gave her a little push. That's when she hit me with a sucker punch in the eye. Next thing I know we're rolling around the floor."

"That's all you have to say, Fannie?"

"That's all that happened, Judge."

"Oh, yeah. What about Miss Pinkham's face?"

"Damned if I know. I may have pulled some hair and tore a few clothes, but I didn't hurt the little skunk."

Judge Walsh paused for a moment, then said, "You take a seat against the wall. Maybe Miss Pinkham can shed some light on this fiasco."

This time the court officer escorted in a plump redhead. Her chin was completely covered by the bandage held in place by a gauze strip tied behind her neck. She wore the same type of jailhouse dress as Fannie Hill.

Soon as Julia spotted Fannie she jerked free of the officer's grasp and dashed toward her. Fannie, apparently ready to do combat, stood on spread feet with clinched fists. But before Julia could reach Fannie, the court officer tackled her. They'd no sooner hit the floor when the officer recovered, grabbed Julia's arm, pulled her to her feet and led her to the witness stand.

"Miss Pinkham, do you work at the 555 club owned by Fannie Hill?" asked Judge Walsh.

"Not anymore I don't."

"Tell us what happened to cause you to no longer work there."

Julia touched her bandaged chin with her forefinger and said, "This is the reason. That crazy woman bit off my chin."

"Are you sure?" Judge Walsh asked.

Julia shrugged. "All I can say is that when the fight started I had a perfectly normal chin. When they broke it up, it was gone."

"What makes you think she bit you?"

"Cause that's the type of bitch she is. She was biting, scratching, pulling hair, kicking, and if she'd had a knife or gun she would've used it."

"Miss Hill testified that you were holding back on your earnings. Is that true?"

Julie turned to Fannie, glared, and said, "Hell, no! I gave her every cent I owed her. We agreed on the price I'd charge and what her percentage would be. What she's complaining about is the tips my customers give me. I'm the one who puts extra effort in my work. No way in the world I'm giving her any of that money."

"You told Fannie that?" Judge Walsh asked.

"Damn right, I did."

"What'd she say?"

Once again Julia glared at Fannie. "She didn't say anything. She just slapped me across the face." Her glare changed to a wry smile. "So I hauled off and hit her a good one alongside the head." Then through clenched teeth she added, "When she started pulling my hair and tearing my clothes, I had to defend myself. But she couldn't fight fair. The bitch had to bite my chin off."

Judge Walsh dismissed Julia and sent her to sit on the opposite side of the room from Fannie. He then called Officer Noonan to the stand.

"Officer Noonan, can you shed some light on what happened to Miss. Pinkham's chin?"

"Sure can, Judge. Fannie Hill bit it off."

"Did you actually see Fannie Hill bite off Julia Pinkham's chin?"

"No, sir."

"Well then, how do you know she did it?"

"That's easy, Judge. I saw her spit it out."

Judge Walsh paused for a second before saying, "That's good enough for me. Miss Hill, I'm fining you one hundred dollars. You're also ordered to pay all Miss Pinkham's doctor bills." Looking at Miss Pinkham he added, "I think you'd be wise to find another place of employment, in some other town."

The Homestake was not the only gold mine in the town of Lead. City officials created a tidy cash flow into municipal coffers by arresting Fannie Hill and the other madams at least once a month, fining them one hundred dollars for keeping bawdyhouses. This money making scheme became such a routine court function, the madams saved attorney fees by representing each other.

Fannie Hill was hauled into court more than 130 times and paid fines totaling more than $10,000.00. Combined prostitution arrests in Lead exceeded 1,250, which created revenues of more than $34,000. It is no wonder that, in spite of considerable citizen opposition to the practice of condoning prostitution, the court and the city government continued to turn their heads.

For the five years following the Hill-Pinkham brawl, the news worthiness of Fannie Hill and the other madams waned dramatically. But in August of 1910, Fannie once again had labor problems, this time with the musicians who entertained at her dance hall. Fannie decided to teach the Musician's Association a lesson by firing four of their members for walking off the job when their wages were cut. The association retaliated by calling a meeting and fining Fannie $96.00 for discharging the men without the agreed two weeks notice. Furthermore, all members of the association were prohibited from working for Fannie.

Living up to her obstinate reputation, Fannie hired non-association musicians as replacements, but she was forced to work out her problems with the association when her business drastically dropped off because of the poor quality of the music. Soon after her capitulation, the union orchestra was once again playing at the resort on North Bleeker Street.

Fannie's house of ill repute, and most of Lead's Tenderloin district, disappeared when several blocks of buildings were razed in the 1920s and '30s, victims of ground subsidence caused by inadequate backfilling of early day mining shafts.

After I retired I often thought of my days as a newspaper reporter and entertained myself by wondering whatever happened to those rowdy women who provided so much entertainment for their customers as well as for readers of the Lead Daily Call.