and even violence to nab the unwary. Through trap doors, crimps passed unsuspecting or unconscious men into Astoria’s watery underworld, where a rowboat waited to ferry them to the ship. For each man supplied, desperate captains paid the crimps “blood money.”
Above the street-level watering holes, many saloons housed what were politely deemed “female boardinghouses.” A number of the “land ladies” who oversaw the stable of strumpets upstairs made small fortunes and became respected citizens. Some of Astoria’s most prominent citizens were known to patronize these establishments, though for them discrete doorways allowed entry and exit from Bond Street, not Astor. Also scattered around the waterfront were a number of sailors’ boardinghouses. It was upon the proprietors of these hostels that the captains of windjammers sometimes relied to fill their crew before departing on long ocean voyages. Many seamen signed on willingly. Others, who were not necessarily sailors, were delivered to the ship by shanghaiers. Crimps, as the shanghaiers were known, would employ alcohol, drugs, trickery, 86 Astoria Bicentennial
One of Astoria’s leading crimps was a diminutive Irish woman named Bridget Grant. This gentle-faced boardinghouse proprietor arrived in town in 1876, and together with her son Peter, fared well collecting blood money. Her handiwork even earned her the unkind distinction of being called the “queen of the boarding-masters’ fraternity.” The Grants were certainly not alone. For a time, Astoria was the base of operations for Jim Turk, one of Portland’s most notorious crimps. Jim Cook and Mickey “Fat” Woods, too, operated in Astoria. In 1881, this bold duo abducted sailors from the ship Palmyra and ransomed them back to her skipper for $40 apiece. Despite waves of moral crusades, city officials did little to rid the town of the sinful element along Astor Street. It was simply too lucrative. In 1880, over one-third of Astoria’s municipal income came from city-mandated liquor license fees. Swilltown’s proceeds helped fund Astoria’s streets, schools, and civic projects. Shang-
haiing, too, was often overlooked by a police force that was occasionally reminded, with a little sweetener, not to interfere with business. By the early 1900s, though, the town’s civic values began show signs of change. Astoria’s shanghaiing days passed with the era of the tall ships, and not long afterwards prohibition came to Oregon. In 1919, the manufacture and sale of alcohol became illegal nationwide, but by then Swilltown had lost much of its color. Brothels would remain open along Astor Street until the Second World War, when military officials began extinguishing the red lights. What federal prohibition and countless moral crusades could not destroy, the Oregon State Highway Department wiped clean when it rerouted Highway 30 through town. During the street widening process, most of the historic buildings lining Astor Street were razed and the last reminders of Swilltown disappeared. Today, this once notorious street only extends three blocks along Astoria’s waterfront. With the comfortable distance of time, many Astorians have come to appreciate this most colorful, if lowbrow, side of their history. Shanghaiing returned to Astoria once again in 1984 when the Astor Street Opry Company premiered its melodrama “Shanghaied in Astoria.” Set in 1904 and bursting with local color, the play, which has run every year since from July through September, has become a signature piece of contemporary Astorian culture.
Bridget Grant (CCHS 5597.00G)