Mary Ellen Pleasant
On October 17th 1859, Colonel Robert E. Lee stormed the engine house at Harper’s Ferry. Within three minutes his marines killed most of the men that took part in the Harper’s Ferry raid and captured its leader, John Brown. Brown remained defiant. He had refused to surrender when given the chance and now, faced with a decisive defeat, he showed no amount of contrition. His efforts to single-handedly abolish the institution of slavery by purging it away with blood might not have succeeded, but his passion for the cause was as hot as ever.
Imagine that you are a woman of great cleverness and ambition. You see the world with clarity and you understand that your unique intellect could guarantee you a life of prominence and wealth. However, you are unable to pursue your talents because you were born a slave in pre-Civil war-era Georgia. This was the conundrum of Mary Ellen Pleasant.
Pleasant’s life is shrouded in mystery. In fact, Mary Ellen Pleasant herself did little to untangle the web of stories woven about her, often picking up and dropping narratives about her life as they suited her. Even though she often insisted that she was born in Philadelphia, Pleasant was probably born into slavery on a Georgia plantation sometime around 1814. Some accounts say that her mother was a voodoo priestess from the Caribbean and her father was the son of Virginia governor, James Pleasant; however, Mary Ellen often said that her mother was a “full-blooded Negress from Louisiana.” What was certain was that Mary Ellen was noticeably light-skinned, so much so that she could pass for white. As she grew, it also became clear that she possessed a startling intellect. Even though slaves weren’t given educations and in some places it was illegal to teach them to read, Mary Ellen shined with natural ability. While her intellect might have inspired some of those around her, it was surely frightening for her captors who viewed her strengths as a threat. They knew that any slave that exhibited such capabilities could quickly become a dangerous nuisance.
Williams was deeply in debt. He was also a jealous man who grew resentful of the fondness his wife, Ellen, showed towards Mary Ellen. Williams sold the girl to a family in Nantucket as an indentured servant. Mary Ellen was “bounded out” for a long nine-year stint in the house of “Grandma Hussey” an aged Quaker merchant.
What seemed at the time to be a devastating blow, ultimately might have been a saving grace for Mary Ellen. As intelligent as she was, Mary Ellen couldn’t read or write, and even though Cincinnati was a prominent destination for freed or escaped slaves, the law stipulated that no person of color could remain permanently within the state unless they could prove that they had been freed by their master. For a pre-teen girl, life alone in the city would’ve been hard to say the least.
Whether by accident or in an uncharacteristic act of mercy, Louis Alexander Williams placed Mary Ellen into the home of a gentle soul who believed in the principles of abolition. In Massachusetts servants could be any race, but Grandma Hussey urged Mary Ellen to keep her identity a secret. Mary Ellen saw the wisdom in this advice and took it to heart. Hussey then set about teaching Mary Ellen to read and write and how to manage her general store. By the time Mary Ellen’s service had ended she was an accomplished and brilliant twenty-year old who had thoroughly absorbed the principles of equality that the Husseys had taught her. Not only had the Husseys given her necessary skills, they had encouraged her natural talents with love and affection, emboldening her to explore the world without fear. Now she was ready to unshackle herself completely.
Mary Ellen discovered her own unique way of rescuing slaves that capitalized on her skin color. She simply disguised herself as a jockey. This allowed her to walk onto plantations without detection and lead slaves to safety. Soon she became an infamous slave-rescuer and was hunted relentlessly. She continued this work for about three years before the area became too dangerous for her to continue her operation. In 1851, she fled to New Orleans where she hid in the home of her soon-to-be second husband, John James Pleasance, or “J.J.”
When she arrived in San Francisco, Mary Ellen took up work as a cook. It was hard work, but she used her position to her advantage. Soon enough, she had a restaurant of her own. To the people she served she was Mary Ellen Smith, a white woman from New England. She was respectable, but she was still just a cook. The wealthy, influential men that frequented the restaurant where she worked had no qualms about discussing the business of the day within earshot. But Mary Ellen had another identity as well, that given to her by Mam’zelle LaVeaux, of a cunning activist and community leader. Mary Ellen was using the things she learned to aid her “colored” brethren. Thanks to her work, she became known as “The Black City Hall.”
In 1858, Mary Ellen decided to reprise her role in the Underground Railroad, this time as an accomplice to John Brown. She and J.J. had purchased a house in San Francisco to house the slaves freed by the Harper’s Ferry raid. Mary Ellen then traveled back to Virginia to alert the slaves in the area of the impending rebellion, once again dressed as a jockey. However, Brown’s raid failed and Mary Ellen only barely escaped with her life. Brown was then hanged and Mary Ellen retreated back to San Francisco. She continued her activism, but never revealed her race publicly until after the signing of the Emancipation Proclamation and the California Right-of-Testimony law of 1863, which allowed people of color to give testimony in court against a white person.
Some might say that it was cowardice that prevented Mary Ellen from proclaiming her race. Others might recognize the prudence of her actions. However, once she was awarded the right to give testimony as a black woman, Mary Ellen was quick to test the new law. Nearly a century before Rosa Parks, Mary Ellen went to the California Supreme Court with a case to allow blacks to ride trolleys in San Francisco without fear of discrimination of any sort. She emerged victorious.
Mary Ellen’s long-time business partner and possibly lover, Thomas Bell, died suddenly. Unfortunately, she had used Bell’s name to facilitate business dealings that would’ve been difficult for a woman to accomplish at the time. Upon his death, Bell’s widow sued for ownership of all those holdings that were in his name. She easily won. Mary Ellen’s fortune, including her mansion, suddenly evaporated before her eyes. The rest of her life was a series of ups and downs that, more often than not, resulted in more stories of scandal that included her name splashed across the front page of the newspaper. In 1904, Mary Ellen died, apparently penniless, however, her final wish demonstrated her undying passion and defiance. On her gravestone she instructed that the following inscription be added: She was a friend of John Brown.