Transcript of January, 1902 Pandex of the Press article titled: "MAMMY" PLEASANT MEMOIRS AND AUTOBIOGRAPHY
"MAMMY" PLEASANT
Memoirs and Autobiography PREPARED BY SAM DAVIS
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN.
This is to certify that Samuel P. Davis of Carson City Nevada, is the only person authorized to publish a history of my life after my death. I have entrusted him with papers and documents bearing upon the matter and any other history of my life except the one published by him is spurious. - Signed M. E. Pleasant
Note: The article begins with he opinion of a palm reader, it is not known if he ever met Mary Ellen Pleasant, so is appended to the end of this transcript.
THE MEMOIRS (introduction by Sam Davis)
THERE is a Russian proverb which declares, in substance, that but few men can die with the knowledge that they have met three wholly original
people in a lifetime. The three persons I have encountered, of whom I believe there never existed any human replica, are George Francis Train, Sarah Bernhardt and Mary Ellen Pleasant. Each was endowed by nature with attributes and mental qualities which made the personality something entirely apart from other human beings, and constituted them solitary types. The first two had their mental equipment sharpened by education, and the last, of negro and Kanaka parentage, never went to school a day in her life; yet had the three, at a time when their intellects were at their best, been thrown together in some transaction where mental acuteness was at a premium, I should not receive the information with surprise that Mrs. Pleasant had scored an advantage over the other two.
My first meeting with Mrs. Pleasant was at the Lick House, after Judge Terry had married the plaintiff in the famous case known on the law calendars as Sharon vs. Sharon. As a representative of the Examiner, I was interviewing Mrs. Terry, when a young lady came to the rooms and asked to see her. Mrs. Pleasant was sitting on a sofa near the door whenthe stranger entered. The latter was a young woman about twenty years of age, faultlessly attired, strikingly beautiful. and very ladylike in appearance and manners. Mrs. Pleasant received her and motioned her to be seated. A few moments later she rose from her chair. and, remarking, "I am thirsty," walked over to a small stand and, pouring out a glass of water, very slowly lifted it to her lips. The act of approaching the stand brought her quite near Mrs. Terry, who was talking to the interviewer in a low tone. Judge Terry was also present. occasionally dropping an observation in the conversation. The caller, after raising the glass to her lips, did not drink, but paused to listen. The water remained untasted possibly not over five seconds but that was quite enough to cause the colored woman to draw her own deduction. She bounded from her seat and strode toward the visitor, her voice ringing with anger.
"Your ears are the thirsty part of you, not your mouth. Why don't you drink that water? Why are you listening to other people's conversation? Now get out of here and get outright away.”
She seized her arm and shoved her toward the door. Mrs. Terry, rising, exclaimed.: "Mammy, don't insult the lady."
"Sit down and don't interfere with me. She's no lady; she's an eavesdropper. Ladies don't do such trick. She may wear good clothes enough to fool you people. but it don't fool me."
The young lady expostulated and tried to explain that she had come there as a friend, but she was unable to placate the negress, who suddenly asked her name.
The·woman gave the name of a well-known family.
"And you live where?"
"Number -- Sutter Street."
"Oh, yes; those rooms over the drug store!" "Yes," was the reply.
"You have told me two lies," instantly retorted Mrs. Pleasant. "You have given a false name and a false address. You have the most beautiful mouth I ever saw on a woman, and the S-- people have large mouths; none of 'em small like yours. There is no drug store at that number, and so that is lie number two. You are here as a spy," and with that she pitched her bodily through the door and closed it. Then, turning to the three spectators of the scene. she asked:
"Didn't you know what it meant when she didn't drink that ·water? "
No one made any reply, and she closed the incident by remarking:
"You folks are all green enough for the cows to eat. You shouldn't be allowed to run loose in a town of this size."
To satisfy myself of the correctness of the deductions drawn by Mrs. Pleasant, I hunted the number on Sutter street next day given by the young woman who had called at the hotel, and found that she had given a false address. I told Mrs. Pleasant of it afterwards and she seemed surprised that I had wasted any time demonstrating it. This incident is recalled to illustrate a trait in her character, showing how rapidly she sizes up a situation and how directly she reaches conclusions. She is seldom deceived by outward appearances. They cut no figure with her.
About two years ago I realized that she was becoming involved in legal and financial complications, and wrote to ask her if I could be of any assistance to her. She replied that she wasnot in any trouble and needed no assistance. Her reply was characteristic and not unexpected. She is of a very proud disposition, and a proffer of assistance must be forced upon her many times before itis accepted.
She has all her life been in the habit of assisting others, and it was no doubt galling to her pride that she should be in a position where assistance could be even proffered, no matter how kindly it might be meant. While in the city a few weeks later, I asked the firm of Pence & Pence to furnish her with such legal advice as she might need, and they, learning the circumstances connected with hercase, proffered their services gratuitously: but she declined, on the grounds that she had never asked any one to work for nothing for her, and she was too old to begin now. She added thatwhen she was not paying her attorneys she did not feel like bossing or directing them, and she wanted nothing to do with any transaction which she could not direct. She would never ask any lawyer’s advice until she had the ready money to pay for it. I knew how perfectly useless it would be to induce her to change her mind, and so the matter was dropped. A few weeks prior to this writing I received a dispatch from her physician asking me to come down, as she felt that she was dying. I arrived next day and found her sick in very plain quarters on Webster Street. In spite of her reduced circumstances and direextremity, she declined financial assistance, saying that Mrs. Oliver Roberts, who lived a few blocks away, was sending her breakfast and dinner daily.
She had some statements to make before she passed away, and so, at intervals between sinking spells and remarkable recuperations, she gave me the story of her eventful life, from her birth to the present time. Some of the statements made were so startling that I demanded corroboration, on the ground that the public would not accept her narrative as true. She replied that the public could believe it or not. It was the truth, however incredible it might seem, and "they could take it or leave it."
The cloud of wrath which gathered on her face at the suggestion of a doubt caused change in the channels of conversation. Later on, she told me “here I could obtain the information which corroborated her story. These facts are being gathered, slowly and laboriously; and when the record is complete; it will amply demonstrate that Mary E. Pleasant did not confine herself to assisting to build up San Francisco, but that her money secretly backed a transaction, one of the most tragic in the annals of the United States which turned a page of history which was only completed when Abraham Lincoln signed the emancipation proclamation. (Note: This is the $30,000 she sent to John Brown that financed his raid on Harper's Ferry)
Since she landed in San Francisco in 1850 she has made and checked out through the local banks over a million dollars. She has scattered to the right and to the left gold, diamonds and realty. From the roof of the house where she now lies with the candle of her life flickering and sputtering in its socket, one can count a dozen luxurious homes which she has absolutelydeeded away to people to whom she desired to show her friendship, and yet she has scorned aid from any of them, and, game to the last, is ready to go down to her grave without acceptinga quarter of a dollar from any source. In compiling the history of her life, I propose to show the difference between "the notorious Mammy Pleasance" and the real Mary E. Pleasant. In doing so I hope to cancel an obligation which she laid me under many years ago. But why not let her tell her story in her own language? It is concise and to the point, and I could not tell it better.
From her sick bed she dictated the following:
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY
Some weeks ago, I felt that I was apt to pass away at any moment. Being over eighty-seven years of age and a sufferer from many attacks of sickness, I felt that my hold upon life was short. My physician, Dr. Kearney, who has been more than kind to me, advised me that I had not long to live, and so I asked him to send a dispatch to Mr. Sam Davis, in Carson City,Nevada, asking him to come down. Mr. Davis came next day, and I have asked him to allow me to tell him the story of my life. I sent for him because he has always been a good friend of mine, with a friendship that has been thoroughly tested and that has never wavered, whether I was up in the world or down. I had many friends when I had a great deal of money, but when I wanted some one to help me when I was down and without money I selected the one whom I considered would not fail me in the hour of trouble. Mr. Davis very kindly consented to allow me to dictate to him a history of my life. The friends I have now are good friends, but under no obligations. I can recall people upon whom I have lavished gifts and money, but I don't know where they are now. I know they are not hunting me. I could name a host of them if I felt so disposed, but I do not care to call these matters up, or things in connection with them. Mr. Davis, who was under no obligations to me in his life, and who never received a dollar from me, is here. I have frequently been asked to give the public a history of my life in order to vindicate myself and set at rest the many stories which have been published about me. Now, I never cared a feather's weight for public opinion, for it is about the most ghostly thing I know of. No one but a rank coward fear it, for it don't know its own mind a minute or where it gets its ideas about anything. So I want it understood distinctly that I am not seeking any vindication which my own conscience does not call on me for. My friends have asked me to do this for their sake, fearing possibly that my silence might be misconstrued.
I have been accused of many things, and under the load of accusation I have held my tongue. I have never been given to explaining away lies, and you can't explain away the truth. I often think of what old Cornelius Vanderbilt said about the public. I don't want to repeat his language, but I think something of his sentiments. When certain newspapers tried to blacken my character, I thought to myself that they must have some money to pay their hands with, and if they could get a dollar a line abusing me, it helped maintain printers' wages and kept more people at work; and I always liked to see a lot of people employed, for that is what helps make good times. It meant grub and more coal for somebody, and all that was agreeable to me. If a write-up of me put an extra blanket on some body's bed or gave a household meat and bread, I would let them lay my character down in the middle of the road and let the whole world jump on it, and then turn it over and let them go it again. So long as my friends believed in me, I didn't bother a bit. What should one care whose heart is good and whose acts have been right and who does not look back with regrets for the past? I have given all I had to others, and when I attached myself to anyone as a friend, I have remained to the end. I do not harbor a vindictive thought against the people who have betrayed my friendship or maligned me, and, in going down to my grave, I forgive them all. I have always been at peace with God, and I wish to die at peace with all the world. To my enemies I say nothing, and to my friends who are standing by me in my trouble I say: "God bless you all."
* * * * * * * * *
The declaration on the part of Mrs. Pleasant that she will pass away forgiving her enemies gives the reader a fair idea of what her memoirs will be. Since coming to this coast she has seen San Francisco grow up from a small trading post to its present metropolitan proportions, and she knows the history of its people better than any other living person. Her remarkable memory is supplemented with a carefully kept diary of events covering a period of nearly fifty years. This she has placed at the disposal of her biographer. The memoirs will be a reflex of a life busy almost from the cradle and a recital of incidents which make a history stranger than any fiction. In her breast are locked the secrets of hundreds of leading families, and were she so disposed she might leave behind her memoirs which would shake the foundations of society. A person of less strength of character or narrowness of disposition might do this. She looks at life from a different standpoint, and insists that the best she knows will be given to the public and the worst will be buried with her. Revenge was never a part of her make-up. She has suffered much from the malevolence of her enemies, but she has never seen the time when she would deny a charge against her, however serious. Her silence has placed her in a mistaken position with the public, for whose good opinion she would not give five cents.
The history of her life is given very nearly as it came from her lips. It is full of originality, quaint philosophy and a rare insight into human nature and human motives. Those who know her best will agree in saying that no human being ever read motive with more certainty or pierced the mask of hypocrisy more quickly than she. Coupled with this was a kindness of disposition and genial humor which makes one of the most interesting character studies of the century.
* * * * * * * * *
Continuing her story, Mrs. Pleasant said:
I was born on the nineteenth day of August, 1814.
Some people have reported that I was born in slavery, but as a matter of fact I was born in Philadelphia, at number 9 Barley Street. My parents, as nearly as I know, must have been a strange mixture. My father was a native Kanaka and my mother a full-blooded Louisiana negress. Both were of large frame, but I think I must have got my physical strength from my father, who was, like most of his race, a giant in frame. His name was Louis Alexander Williams. He was a man of great intelligence and had a fair education, judging from his letters. He was a commercial man and imported silks from India. He imported other things, but his main business was silk.
My mother's name was Mary, and I was named after her, but I recall very little about her. I don’t think she was as well educated as my father, for I don't remember that she ever wrote me any letters. When I was about six years of age, I was sent to Nantucket, Mass., to live with a Quaker woman named Hussey.
I never knew why I was sent there, and about all I know is that my first recollections of life dated from Nantucket. We called Mrs. Hussey "Grandma Hussey," because she was so old. She was no relation. She lived "Under the Hill," as they used to say of those who lived on Union Street in those days. Mrs. William B. Carr of this city, the widow of Billy Carr, the politician and capitalist, used to live in Nantucket, and will recall the huckster shop kept by Mrs. Hussey. Mrs. Carr was one of the Macey sisters in those days. When my father sent me to live with the Husseys, he also gave them, as I learned afterward, plenty of money to have me educated, but they did not use it for that purpose, and that's how I came to have no education. They found I was such a likely clerk in the huckster's shop that they kept me at the counter, and never sent me to school. I often wonder what I would have been with an education. I envy, and always did, children who can write a good hand and spell correctly. and blame the Husseys for not giving me aneducation. I never blamed them to their faces, for I thought too much of them to hurt their feelings. They are dead now, or I would not mention it. Sometimes, however, I think it was all for the best; for I have run across a good many highly educated people who knew a whole lot about books and nothing about the world or the people in it. I have let books alone, and studied men and women a good deal. You can't learn all the book knowledge and all the human nature studies in a lifetime. You must slight one or the other. I have seen lots of people who could talk as if they were talking out of a book, and they would talk all day and never talk sense a minute. If people talk sense and don't talk it with good grammar or use great words, they will be listened to. I have always noticed that when I have anything to say people listen. They never go to sleep on me.
But this is not a memoir, as you call it. I must get back to the huckster shop in Nantucket. I was a girl full of smartness and quick at coming back at people when they tried to have a little fun talking with me. I was a good-looking girl, too, and people used to come in to hear what I had to say. I suppose I got in a habit of talking too much, for when young people find they can raise a laugh they are liable to talk too much. I would even joke with the parson, and nobody in town would dare do that but me; and we became great friends. All this brought custom to the shop, and I would call people in and get them to buy things of me. I was always on the watch, and few people ever got by that shop without buying something of me. I was up to all sorts of pranks, and I remember that there was some relation of Mrs. Hussey's who had a watermelon and ground-pea patch. Groundpeas was the name peanuts went by in those days. The children used to get in and steal the peas and melons, and I noticed that he always caught the children who were there by sizing up the print of their feet in the soft ground. I made up my mind that he would never catch me that way, and so I cut some bark in the shape of feet, and when I went after the melons, I tied these on. I think I must have played too smart, for he went to Mrs. Hussey and charged me with it. He knew there was no girl in town who would think of such deviltry but me. Mrs. Hussey said I never did it, and if I did she would pay the damage. I didn't want to see the money go out of the family or have her caught in a lie, and so I said I never had been on the ground. I meant, of course, I had been on the bark; and that was the end of that.
( To be continued)
Notes:
1. According to the Editor’s Note of page 94 of the next issue (Volume 1, No. 2) of the Pandex of the Press: “Through an unfortunate misunderstanding between author and editor it has been found necessary to discontinue the publication of the "Memoirs of Mammy Pleasant," which was begun in the first number of The Pandex. In lieu of this feature, the readers have been given a much enlarged edition of the magazine and will receive throughout the year and subsequent years a magazine which it is hoped will constantly improve and be of constantly increasing worth. Persons who subscribed for The Pandex solely for the Memoirs and who do not care to continue their subscriptions may receive: the amounts they have paid, by calling at the offices in the Examiner Building.” It is rumored that The Pandex of the Press was purchased by Teresa Bell’s agent and the Memoir was shut down before the second installment could be printed.
2. It was Cornelius Vanderbilt’s son, William Henry Vanderbilt who said “The public be damned, I am working for my stockholders” in October of 1882, the phrase made quite a splash, and Mary Ellen was sure to have read it at the time.
3. The following is, inexplicably, the opinion of a palm reader after having read an image of Mary Ellen Pleasant's hand - it was originally the introduction to the article. It is not known whether Professor Fossil ever met her.
FOSSELLI READS THE HAND
This is a very high type of hand, showing a keen and unusual order of intelligence. It is a curious combination of strength and weakness. The mastering mind dominating and directing everything with which it comes in contact only rules to that point where sympathy of heart obliterates every other feeling. There is a most profound sense of justice in the mental make-up and a desire, ever present, to avenge wrong, whether done to herself or others. Were two wrongs to be avenged. the wrongs of some one else would come up for first consideration. Self has always been a secondary consideration with her. Her courage has been always that of a lioness and she never retreats from anything. Her aggressiveness, however, is of a negative quality, and she does not seek the combat, but once engaged only retires when victory is hers, but there is never an instant during the progress of the fray that a cry for quarter from her adversary is unheeded. She would never send up the cry herself. She might die in action, but never ask for quarter or any concession whatever. Her great pride is responsible for this characteristic, and no matter what accusation might be made against her her abnormal pride would prevent her from explaining or denying. Her life has been full of good acts. She would perform a good act with as much secrecy as most people would commit crimes. Despite her marvelous ability to read motives and penetrate the most secret thoughts of others almost at a glance with a power that borders on the occult, she has been overreached all through life by people whom she has most befriended. She was not deceived, however, but allowed her sympathies to warp her judgment, because the mere pleasure of befriending others is so great that it is almost a mania; for, philanthropy is the dominant note in her character. The hand shows absolutely no education. With education she would have been unquestionably one of the famous women of the century, and it is to be deplored that a mental organization so rare and a brain with such great natural capacity should have been denied the advantages ofeducational training. Through a sad failure of some one to allow her ordinary schooling, the diamond has remained uncut. Her powers of penetration and analysis, however, were notimpaired by this unfortunate neglect, and her faculty of "seeing through a stone wall" or "into the middle of next week," as the sayings go, is unsurpassed. Her tact and generalship are very great; even as a woman she might have commanded an army successfully. In spite of her tact she has been unable to repress a frankness of speech that would often verge on the brutal. This extraordinary frankness has often repelled people, to her detriment. Her memory is like a photographic plate, retaining every minute detail: and the stretch of years does not dim the impression once made. Her will is like cast iron when occasion requires, yet a tear would melt it. She seems of large frame and physically strong, but her strength has been more of will power and nervous energy than muscular. She has been accustomed all her life to the use of plenty of money. and has scattered it as fast as she acquired it. She places no value upon riches whatever. She is fastidious, and loves the beautiful in art and nature, but would deny herself luxury to assist some one else. She is very affectionate and given to the building of ideals, but undemonstrative. She is endowed with a wonderful sense of humor. In childhood she had plenty for herself but after that the lines show that what she had went to others, and the fate line shows that she was unfortunate in her surroundings after thedeath of her parents. She has traveled a great deal by land and sea. She once narrowly escaped death by drowning and was twice in danger of her life by horses. She has had two affairs of the heart, and one child which died early in life. Her life has been full of extraordinary events, struggles and battles, and all her affairs have been involved and entangled. With all she has done for others, her present friends couldbe counted on the fingers of one hand, and fingers to spare. She will pass away suddenly, her life going out like a candle.
-H. Jerome Fosselli.
Memoirs and Autobiography PREPARED BY SAM DAVIS
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN.
This is to certify that Samuel P. Davis of Carson City Nevada, is the only person authorized to publish a history of my life after my death. I have entrusted him with papers and documents bearing upon the matter and any other history of my life except the one published by him is spurious. - Signed M. E. Pleasant
Note: The article begins with he opinion of a palm reader, it is not known if he ever met Mary Ellen Pleasant, so is appended to the end of this transcript.
THE MEMOIRS (introduction by Sam Davis)
THERE is a Russian proverb which declares, in substance, that but few men can die with the knowledge that they have met three wholly original
people in a lifetime. The three persons I have encountered, of whom I believe there never existed any human replica, are George Francis Train, Sarah Bernhardt and Mary Ellen Pleasant. Each was endowed by nature with attributes and mental qualities which made the personality something entirely apart from other human beings, and constituted them solitary types. The first two had their mental equipment sharpened by education, and the last, of negro and Kanaka parentage, never went to school a day in her life; yet had the three, at a time when their intellects were at their best, been thrown together in some transaction where mental acuteness was at a premium, I should not receive the information with surprise that Mrs. Pleasant had scored an advantage over the other two.
My first meeting with Mrs. Pleasant was at the Lick House, after Judge Terry had married the plaintiff in the famous case known on the law calendars as Sharon vs. Sharon. As a representative of the Examiner, I was interviewing Mrs. Terry, when a young lady came to the rooms and asked to see her. Mrs. Pleasant was sitting on a sofa near the door whenthe stranger entered. The latter was a young woman about twenty years of age, faultlessly attired, strikingly beautiful. and very ladylike in appearance and manners. Mrs. Pleasant received her and motioned her to be seated. A few moments later she rose from her chair. and, remarking, "I am thirsty," walked over to a small stand and, pouring out a glass of water, very slowly lifted it to her lips. The act of approaching the stand brought her quite near Mrs. Terry, who was talking to the interviewer in a low tone. Judge Terry was also present. occasionally dropping an observation in the conversation. The caller, after raising the glass to her lips, did not drink, but paused to listen. The water remained untasted possibly not over five seconds but that was quite enough to cause the colored woman to draw her own deduction. She bounded from her seat and strode toward the visitor, her voice ringing with anger.
"Your ears are the thirsty part of you, not your mouth. Why don't you drink that water? Why are you listening to other people's conversation? Now get out of here and get outright away.”
She seized her arm and shoved her toward the door. Mrs. Terry, rising, exclaimed.: "Mammy, don't insult the lady."
"Sit down and don't interfere with me. She's no lady; she's an eavesdropper. Ladies don't do such trick. She may wear good clothes enough to fool you people. but it don't fool me."
The young lady expostulated and tried to explain that she had come there as a friend, but she was unable to placate the negress, who suddenly asked her name.
The·woman gave the name of a well-known family.
"And you live where?"
"Number -- Sutter Street."
"Oh, yes; those rooms over the drug store!" "Yes," was the reply.
"You have told me two lies," instantly retorted Mrs. Pleasant. "You have given a false name and a false address. You have the most beautiful mouth I ever saw on a woman, and the S-- people have large mouths; none of 'em small like yours. There is no drug store at that number, and so that is lie number two. You are here as a spy," and with that she pitched her bodily through the door and closed it. Then, turning to the three spectators of the scene. she asked:
"Didn't you know what it meant when she didn't drink that ·water? "
No one made any reply, and she closed the incident by remarking:
"You folks are all green enough for the cows to eat. You shouldn't be allowed to run loose in a town of this size."
To satisfy myself of the correctness of the deductions drawn by Mrs. Pleasant, I hunted the number on Sutter street next day given by the young woman who had called at the hotel, and found that she had given a false address. I told Mrs. Pleasant of it afterwards and she seemed surprised that I had wasted any time demonstrating it. This incident is recalled to illustrate a trait in her character, showing how rapidly she sizes up a situation and how directly she reaches conclusions. She is seldom deceived by outward appearances. They cut no figure with her.
About two years ago I realized that she was becoming involved in legal and financial complications, and wrote to ask her if I could be of any assistance to her. She replied that she wasnot in any trouble and needed no assistance. Her reply was characteristic and not unexpected. She is of a very proud disposition, and a proffer of assistance must be forced upon her many times before itis accepted.
She has all her life been in the habit of assisting others, and it was no doubt galling to her pride that she should be in a position where assistance could be even proffered, no matter how kindly it might be meant. While in the city a few weeks later, I asked the firm of Pence & Pence to furnish her with such legal advice as she might need, and they, learning the circumstances connected with hercase, proffered their services gratuitously: but she declined, on the grounds that she had never asked any one to work for nothing for her, and she was too old to begin now. She added thatwhen she was not paying her attorneys she did not feel like bossing or directing them, and she wanted nothing to do with any transaction which she could not direct. She would never ask any lawyer’s advice until she had the ready money to pay for it. I knew how perfectly useless it would be to induce her to change her mind, and so the matter was dropped. A few weeks prior to this writing I received a dispatch from her physician asking me to come down, as she felt that she was dying. I arrived next day and found her sick in very plain quarters on Webster Street. In spite of her reduced circumstances and direextremity, she declined financial assistance, saying that Mrs. Oliver Roberts, who lived a few blocks away, was sending her breakfast and dinner daily.
She had some statements to make before she passed away, and so, at intervals between sinking spells and remarkable recuperations, she gave me the story of her eventful life, from her birth to the present time. Some of the statements made were so startling that I demanded corroboration, on the ground that the public would not accept her narrative as true. She replied that the public could believe it or not. It was the truth, however incredible it might seem, and "they could take it or leave it."
The cloud of wrath which gathered on her face at the suggestion of a doubt caused change in the channels of conversation. Later on, she told me “here I could obtain the information which corroborated her story. These facts are being gathered, slowly and laboriously; and when the record is complete; it will amply demonstrate that Mary E. Pleasant did not confine herself to assisting to build up San Francisco, but that her money secretly backed a transaction, one of the most tragic in the annals of the United States which turned a page of history which was only completed when Abraham Lincoln signed the emancipation proclamation. (Note: This is the $30,000 she sent to John Brown that financed his raid on Harper's Ferry)
Since she landed in San Francisco in 1850 she has made and checked out through the local banks over a million dollars. She has scattered to the right and to the left gold, diamonds and realty. From the roof of the house where she now lies with the candle of her life flickering and sputtering in its socket, one can count a dozen luxurious homes which she has absolutelydeeded away to people to whom she desired to show her friendship, and yet she has scorned aid from any of them, and, game to the last, is ready to go down to her grave without acceptinga quarter of a dollar from any source. In compiling the history of her life, I propose to show the difference between "the notorious Mammy Pleasance" and the real Mary E. Pleasant. In doing so I hope to cancel an obligation which she laid me under many years ago. But why not let her tell her story in her own language? It is concise and to the point, and I could not tell it better.
From her sick bed she dictated the following:
THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY
Some weeks ago, I felt that I was apt to pass away at any moment. Being over eighty-seven years of age and a sufferer from many attacks of sickness, I felt that my hold upon life was short. My physician, Dr. Kearney, who has been more than kind to me, advised me that I had not long to live, and so I asked him to send a dispatch to Mr. Sam Davis, in Carson City,Nevada, asking him to come down. Mr. Davis came next day, and I have asked him to allow me to tell him the story of my life. I sent for him because he has always been a good friend of mine, with a friendship that has been thoroughly tested and that has never wavered, whether I was up in the world or down. I had many friends when I had a great deal of money, but when I wanted some one to help me when I was down and without money I selected the one whom I considered would not fail me in the hour of trouble. Mr. Davis very kindly consented to allow me to dictate to him a history of my life. The friends I have now are good friends, but under no obligations. I can recall people upon whom I have lavished gifts and money, but I don't know where they are now. I know they are not hunting me. I could name a host of them if I felt so disposed, but I do not care to call these matters up, or things in connection with them. Mr. Davis, who was under no obligations to me in his life, and who never received a dollar from me, is here. I have frequently been asked to give the public a history of my life in order to vindicate myself and set at rest the many stories which have been published about me. Now, I never cared a feather's weight for public opinion, for it is about the most ghostly thing I know of. No one but a rank coward fear it, for it don't know its own mind a minute or where it gets its ideas about anything. So I want it understood distinctly that I am not seeking any vindication which my own conscience does not call on me for. My friends have asked me to do this for their sake, fearing possibly that my silence might be misconstrued.
I have been accused of many things, and under the load of accusation I have held my tongue. I have never been given to explaining away lies, and you can't explain away the truth. I often think of what old Cornelius Vanderbilt said about the public. I don't want to repeat his language, but I think something of his sentiments. When certain newspapers tried to blacken my character, I thought to myself that they must have some money to pay their hands with, and if they could get a dollar a line abusing me, it helped maintain printers' wages and kept more people at work; and I always liked to see a lot of people employed, for that is what helps make good times. It meant grub and more coal for somebody, and all that was agreeable to me. If a write-up of me put an extra blanket on some body's bed or gave a household meat and bread, I would let them lay my character down in the middle of the road and let the whole world jump on it, and then turn it over and let them go it again. So long as my friends believed in me, I didn't bother a bit. What should one care whose heart is good and whose acts have been right and who does not look back with regrets for the past? I have given all I had to others, and when I attached myself to anyone as a friend, I have remained to the end. I do not harbor a vindictive thought against the people who have betrayed my friendship or maligned me, and, in going down to my grave, I forgive them all. I have always been at peace with God, and I wish to die at peace with all the world. To my enemies I say nothing, and to my friends who are standing by me in my trouble I say: "God bless you all."
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The declaration on the part of Mrs. Pleasant that she will pass away forgiving her enemies gives the reader a fair idea of what her memoirs will be. Since coming to this coast she has seen San Francisco grow up from a small trading post to its present metropolitan proportions, and she knows the history of its people better than any other living person. Her remarkable memory is supplemented with a carefully kept diary of events covering a period of nearly fifty years. This she has placed at the disposal of her biographer. The memoirs will be a reflex of a life busy almost from the cradle and a recital of incidents which make a history stranger than any fiction. In her breast are locked the secrets of hundreds of leading families, and were she so disposed she might leave behind her memoirs which would shake the foundations of society. A person of less strength of character or narrowness of disposition might do this. She looks at life from a different standpoint, and insists that the best she knows will be given to the public and the worst will be buried with her. Revenge was never a part of her make-up. She has suffered much from the malevolence of her enemies, but she has never seen the time when she would deny a charge against her, however serious. Her silence has placed her in a mistaken position with the public, for whose good opinion she would not give five cents.
The history of her life is given very nearly as it came from her lips. It is full of originality, quaint philosophy and a rare insight into human nature and human motives. Those who know her best will agree in saying that no human being ever read motive with more certainty or pierced the mask of hypocrisy more quickly than she. Coupled with this was a kindness of disposition and genial humor which makes one of the most interesting character studies of the century.
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Continuing her story, Mrs. Pleasant said:
I was born on the nineteenth day of August, 1814.
Some people have reported that I was born in slavery, but as a matter of fact I was born in Philadelphia, at number 9 Barley Street. My parents, as nearly as I know, must have been a strange mixture. My father was a native Kanaka and my mother a full-blooded Louisiana negress. Both were of large frame, but I think I must have got my physical strength from my father, who was, like most of his race, a giant in frame. His name was Louis Alexander Williams. He was a man of great intelligence and had a fair education, judging from his letters. He was a commercial man and imported silks from India. He imported other things, but his main business was silk.
My mother's name was Mary, and I was named after her, but I recall very little about her. I don’t think she was as well educated as my father, for I don't remember that she ever wrote me any letters. When I was about six years of age, I was sent to Nantucket, Mass., to live with a Quaker woman named Hussey.
I never knew why I was sent there, and about all I know is that my first recollections of life dated from Nantucket. We called Mrs. Hussey "Grandma Hussey," because she was so old. She was no relation. She lived "Under the Hill," as they used to say of those who lived on Union Street in those days. Mrs. William B. Carr of this city, the widow of Billy Carr, the politician and capitalist, used to live in Nantucket, and will recall the huckster shop kept by Mrs. Hussey. Mrs. Carr was one of the Macey sisters in those days. When my father sent me to live with the Husseys, he also gave them, as I learned afterward, plenty of money to have me educated, but they did not use it for that purpose, and that's how I came to have no education. They found I was such a likely clerk in the huckster's shop that they kept me at the counter, and never sent me to school. I often wonder what I would have been with an education. I envy, and always did, children who can write a good hand and spell correctly. and blame the Husseys for not giving me aneducation. I never blamed them to their faces, for I thought too much of them to hurt their feelings. They are dead now, or I would not mention it. Sometimes, however, I think it was all for the best; for I have run across a good many highly educated people who knew a whole lot about books and nothing about the world or the people in it. I have let books alone, and studied men and women a good deal. You can't learn all the book knowledge and all the human nature studies in a lifetime. You must slight one or the other. I have seen lots of people who could talk as if they were talking out of a book, and they would talk all day and never talk sense a minute. If people talk sense and don't talk it with good grammar or use great words, they will be listened to. I have always noticed that when I have anything to say people listen. They never go to sleep on me.
But this is not a memoir, as you call it. I must get back to the huckster shop in Nantucket. I was a girl full of smartness and quick at coming back at people when they tried to have a little fun talking with me. I was a good-looking girl, too, and people used to come in to hear what I had to say. I suppose I got in a habit of talking too much, for when young people find they can raise a laugh they are liable to talk too much. I would even joke with the parson, and nobody in town would dare do that but me; and we became great friends. All this brought custom to the shop, and I would call people in and get them to buy things of me. I was always on the watch, and few people ever got by that shop without buying something of me. I was up to all sorts of pranks, and I remember that there was some relation of Mrs. Hussey's who had a watermelon and ground-pea patch. Groundpeas was the name peanuts went by in those days. The children used to get in and steal the peas and melons, and I noticed that he always caught the children who were there by sizing up the print of their feet in the soft ground. I made up my mind that he would never catch me that way, and so I cut some bark in the shape of feet, and when I went after the melons, I tied these on. I think I must have played too smart, for he went to Mrs. Hussey and charged me with it. He knew there was no girl in town who would think of such deviltry but me. Mrs. Hussey said I never did it, and if I did she would pay the damage. I didn't want to see the money go out of the family or have her caught in a lie, and so I said I never had been on the ground. I meant, of course, I had been on the bark; and that was the end of that.
( To be continued)
Notes:
1. According to the Editor’s Note of page 94 of the next issue (Volume 1, No. 2) of the Pandex of the Press: “Through an unfortunate misunderstanding between author and editor it has been found necessary to discontinue the publication of the "Memoirs of Mammy Pleasant," which was begun in the first number of The Pandex. In lieu of this feature, the readers have been given a much enlarged edition of the magazine and will receive throughout the year and subsequent years a magazine which it is hoped will constantly improve and be of constantly increasing worth. Persons who subscribed for The Pandex solely for the Memoirs and who do not care to continue their subscriptions may receive: the amounts they have paid, by calling at the offices in the Examiner Building.” It is rumored that The Pandex of the Press was purchased by Teresa Bell’s agent and the Memoir was shut down before the second installment could be printed.
2. It was Cornelius Vanderbilt’s son, William Henry Vanderbilt who said “The public be damned, I am working for my stockholders” in October of 1882, the phrase made quite a splash, and Mary Ellen was sure to have read it at the time.
3. The following is, inexplicably, the opinion of a palm reader after having read an image of Mary Ellen Pleasant's hand - it was originally the introduction to the article. It is not known whether Professor Fossil ever met her.
FOSSELLI READS THE HAND
This is a very high type of hand, showing a keen and unusual order of intelligence. It is a curious combination of strength and weakness. The mastering mind dominating and directing everything with which it comes in contact only rules to that point where sympathy of heart obliterates every other feeling. There is a most profound sense of justice in the mental make-up and a desire, ever present, to avenge wrong, whether done to herself or others. Were two wrongs to be avenged. the wrongs of some one else would come up for first consideration. Self has always been a secondary consideration with her. Her courage has been always that of a lioness and she never retreats from anything. Her aggressiveness, however, is of a negative quality, and she does not seek the combat, but once engaged only retires when victory is hers, but there is never an instant during the progress of the fray that a cry for quarter from her adversary is unheeded. She would never send up the cry herself. She might die in action, but never ask for quarter or any concession whatever. Her great pride is responsible for this characteristic, and no matter what accusation might be made against her her abnormal pride would prevent her from explaining or denying. Her life has been full of good acts. She would perform a good act with as much secrecy as most people would commit crimes. Despite her marvelous ability to read motives and penetrate the most secret thoughts of others almost at a glance with a power that borders on the occult, she has been overreached all through life by people whom she has most befriended. She was not deceived, however, but allowed her sympathies to warp her judgment, because the mere pleasure of befriending others is so great that it is almost a mania; for, philanthropy is the dominant note in her character. The hand shows absolutely no education. With education she would have been unquestionably one of the famous women of the century, and it is to be deplored that a mental organization so rare and a brain with such great natural capacity should have been denied the advantages ofeducational training. Through a sad failure of some one to allow her ordinary schooling, the diamond has remained uncut. Her powers of penetration and analysis, however, were notimpaired by this unfortunate neglect, and her faculty of "seeing through a stone wall" or "into the middle of next week," as the sayings go, is unsurpassed. Her tact and generalship are very great; even as a woman she might have commanded an army successfully. In spite of her tact she has been unable to repress a frankness of speech that would often verge on the brutal. This extraordinary frankness has often repelled people, to her detriment. Her memory is like a photographic plate, retaining every minute detail: and the stretch of years does not dim the impression once made. Her will is like cast iron when occasion requires, yet a tear would melt it. She seems of large frame and physically strong, but her strength has been more of will power and nervous energy than muscular. She has been accustomed all her life to the use of plenty of money. and has scattered it as fast as she acquired it. She places no value upon riches whatever. She is fastidious, and loves the beautiful in art and nature, but would deny herself luxury to assist some one else. She is very affectionate and given to the building of ideals, but undemonstrative. She is endowed with a wonderful sense of humor. In childhood she had plenty for herself but after that the lines show that what she had went to others, and the fate line shows that she was unfortunate in her surroundings after thedeath of her parents. She has traveled a great deal by land and sea. She once narrowly escaped death by drowning and was twice in danger of her life by horses. She has had two affairs of the heart, and one child which died early in life. Her life has been full of extraordinary events, struggles and battles, and all her affairs have been involved and entangled. With all she has done for others, her present friends couldbe counted on the fingers of one hand, and fingers to spare. She will pass away suddenly, her life going out like a candle.
-H. Jerome Fosselli.