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who are sold into slavery in California and not Mexican, Chilean or other nationalities? Because the white folks who run the state think John the Chinaman is a lesser human being perhaps? Is that the way you feel about Lillie? She’s your little honey pot, but since she’s Chinese, she’s inferior to you and you have the right to own her?” Antonio was smart enough not to reply to Manon’s accusations. You don’t win arguments with Manon when she’s got her dander up and her cause is just.

      “There is a very simple solution to your problem.”

      “There is?” Antonio was so surprised he knocked over the now empty wine carafe which shattered at his feet.

      “I’ll have Attorney Hawthorne draw papers to free Lillie from slavery. You can teach her Italian and employ her in your restaurant. She’ll probably still gladly warm your bed out of gratitude for giving her her freedom. Hawthorne will have the papers ready to sign the day after tomorrow. He’ll be expecting you. Think on it hard. It’s the only honorable thing to do.”

      With that said, Manon motioned me to get a cab. Manon had brief words with Luigi and we left without further ado. The next couple of days were going to be rough for Antonio. His uncle would now lead the fight for Lillie’s manumission now that he had our backing.

      “MARY ELLEN PLEASANT”

      — courtesy of San Francisco History Center, San Francisco Public Library.

      California Gold Rush Journal

      

PART 3

      CHAPTER FIVE

       San Francisco & Marysville — 1853

      We learned from Attorney Hawthorne that despite California being a non-slave state, the bills of sale of Chinese men and women slaves were legal in American courts so long as the slaves sold were Chinese. When asked why the contradiction, Hawthorne just shrugged and said, “It recognizes Chinese law where these sales are legal, just as in the southern states with Negroes.”

      Manon couldn’t see the rationale. “The black slaves were forcibly brought here. Their tribal government didn’t accept their enslavement, so how could it be legal?”

      Hawthorne sighed. “Alas, the African tribes did condone slavery. They enslaved and sold their rivals and those they captured in battle to European and Arab slave traders. Even certain American Indian tribes did the same and it’s legal under American law because by treaty they are independent nations. It’s a nasty and complicated history that has not been resolved even though the importation of slaves has been banned in some foreign countries. The great civilizations all practiced slavery. The grandeurs of Egypt, Greece, Rome, India and China were built mostly by slaves.”

      “Well, it’s wrong and must be changed,” Manon snorted. “In any case, you better see that Antonio signs the papers giving Lillie her freedom. If he doesn’t, there’ll be hell to pay.”

      Hawthorne promised to do his best. We learned later that Antonio did sign the documents manumitting Lillie. His uncle and the rest of the Italian community shamed him into it.

      Building was underway on our bilingual school with the end of the rainy season and a mild spring and summer. Jacques Boucher, our chef Rose’s brother, assembled a work force of carpenters and other artisans to lay the foundation and erect the walls. Jacques assured us the building would be ready to inaugurate by September 1st.

      With Mary Ellen Pleasant’s investment and those of my friend, Pierre-Louis Lerouge, and Marie Suize, known by the miners in the southern placers as “Marie Pantalon” as she worked beside her brother in male attire mining placer gold, the work pants partnership was fully funded. With these three investors plus Attorney Hawthorne with ten percent and Levi Strauss with 25 percent of profits, I had given up 60 percent of the profit to be realized selling denim work pants to miners and artisans.

      Teri’s bodega was remodeled and now open for business and attracting lots of attention and customers. The combination of a voluptuous blonde-haired, blue-eyed, coppery-skinned Chilean proprietress dressed in colorful scoop-necked peasant dresses from South America and the energetic Levi Strauss promoting his designer work pants with copper rivets was a hit from the first day the store opened. Teri was receiving a lot of free press as the newspaper gossip scribblers loved to drink wine and brandy at her bar and watch to see who was being fitted for the now “must have” pants with copper rivets.

      Justinian Caire and his employees wore denim work aprons designed by Manon and the work pants called “Levis” were selling like hot cakes in his mining supply store. We’d rented warehouse space near the Long Wharf and ten cutters and seamstresses produced the work pants. As our inventory grew, it was time to set up a distribution system where the majority of miners bought their supplies for the summer mining season. We decided on Marysville, Nevada City, and Sonora which Gino and I had visited and where we had contacts. My plan was to send Gino to Sonora to consign the new “Levis” to the mining emporiums we visited and to buy or rent space to house my express company business and an assay office. Gino was eager to go as he had been corresponding with Virginie, the girl he’d fallen in love with on our trip there. She was encouraging him to come and offered to help him find suitable office space. We sent him off on a paddlewheel steamer to Stockton with several trunks filled with Levis and all the accumulated French mail for the southern placers.

      When I announced my plans to visit Nevada City and Marysville, Manon looked me straight in the eye and said, “I’m going with you Big Boy.” I did a double take.

      “What about the restaurant and our twins?” I blurted out.

      “Ha! Disappearing Daddy thinks he’ll just slip away the way he did after poor Manon gave birth to his kids and had both sucking on a nipple, yes?”

      “I had to go or lose the mail contract.” That was a weak argument as she knew. It was winter and I risked my life and our family’s future in an effort to promote my interests. I was lucky to avoid being stuck there by mud and swollen rivers or drowned by the fierce storms that chased behind me.

      “Well times have changed Big Boy. Giselle and Nellie can run the restaurant for a few days and Monique and Ming can care for and feed the twins and stay in our apartment while we’re gone. Manon needs a break from domestic duties. She plans to see some of her new country, stay in the best hotels and eat somebody else’s cooking for a change.” Manon gave me that look that said “plus I’m going to make sure there is no hanky-panky on the part of Disappearing Daddy.”

      Manon never really believed when Gino and I traveled to the mining camps we hadn’t sampled the wares of the camp followers. She had no illusions about male weaknesses for a pretty face, nicely turned ankles, a buxom figure and a look that said “come on and get it before I hook up with someone else.” The towns near the mining camps tripled in size over the weekend as miners came to dance in fandango halls, drink, gamble, and buy the prettiest woman the gold in their poke could afford. She knew we’d been in Sacramento when Belle Cora ran the top parlor house in town and we’d just seen Lola Montez’ sexy performance. Lots of good looking women were on the make and available for a steep price which they mostly got. Several French gambling “hostesses” already made their fortunes on their backs and returned to France endowed for life. Others married well after plying their trade and now were chic “grand dames” at the top of the social register in San Francisco. They were building the big mansions with stunning bay views near us and

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