William Leidesdorff, first in everything

William A. Leidesdorff
William Alexander Leidesdorff lived only 38 years, but he fit more into those years than many others do in a century.
Through investing in the growth of San Francisco, Leidesdorff became America's first Black millionaire1. He was also the first English-speaking alderman of San Francisco and, as far as I know, the first Black Jewish person to hold public office on behalf of either Denmark or the USA, having been Consul for Denmark to California and then U.S. Vice Consul to Mexico2.
He built the first hotel in San Francisco, the first horse racing track, and the first shipping warehouse. He launched the first steamboat on San Francisco Bay. He donated land to open the first public school, sat on the first School Board and the first City Council, and did all that in a mere seven years, while recovering from the loss of his sailing career and a tragic heartbreak.
Leidesdorff was born in 1810 on the island of Saint Croix in the Danish West Indies. His father, William Leidesdorff Sr., was a Danish Jew passing as Lutheran. His mother, Anne Marie Spark, was a woman of mixed Black, Carib, and European ancestry. They were not able to marry, but Leidesdorff Sr. formally adopted their children to acknowledge them and ensure their inheritance.
In 1824, Leidesdorff moved to New Orleans to work in his father's shipping business and became an American citizen. His ship was the Julia Ann, a fine schooner that he took on trading voyages from New York to Yerba Buena by way of Panama, St. Croix, Brazil, Chile, Hawaii, and Alaska.
Not only were Captain Leidesdorff's travels very successful, but he was also in love. She loved him back. They were engaged.
Leidesdorff loved his bride so much that he could not bear starting their life together with a lie. He confessed his mother's ancestry. The lady (or so it is said) replied that she loved him whatever color his mother was, but could not lie to her parents. Her father... Well, her father had exactly the kind of views on his daughter marrying a Black man that you'd expect from a Louisiana plantation owner in 1840.
The wedding was off. William Leidesdorff had to leave town quickly. In doing so he became the last Black captain to sail out of New Orleans for almost a generation, until slavers lost the Civil War. It is said that just before he left, he learned that his beloved had died of a broken heart3.
He settled in Yerba Buena, a small town of thirty families, and proceeded to develop it into a city almost single-handedly. His knowledge of at least six languages, including Spanish, probably helped, but so did his open-handed generosity.
By 1844, the Mexican government had granted him 35,521 acres extending from Sacramento to Folsom, which he called Rancho Río de los Americanos after the American River that flows there. That land was later found to have some of the richest gold deposits mined during the Gold Rush.
In 1845, the government changed. Leidesdorff was instrumental in this. He was the first to notify U.S. Consul Thomas O. Larkin when the California Republic had been established in Sonoma and provided a great deal of valuable information on the California Revolution. In 1846, the Declaration of Independence was read publicly for the first time in California—in his house. United States valued Leidesdorff as much as Mexico ever had. Success followed Leidesdorff's every undertaking, and then, suddenly, after a very short illness, he died.
Perhaps because he did not expect to die of a fever at thirty-eight, Leidesdorff left no will. Joseph Folsom, the Harbor Master, who knew the particulars of the estate, traveled to St. Croix and offered Leidesdorff's widowed mother a paltry $75,000 for her inheritance. Folsom's enjoyment of this deal was spoiled by a prolonged lawsuit, the stress of which contributed to his own untimely death4.
William Leidesdorff was so loved in San Francisco that on May 19, 1848, the day of his burial, all business in town was suspended, all schools were closed, and all flags flew at half-mast. He was buried inside the old Mission. For many years he was almost forgotten, but today you can see a mural and a statue dedicated to him near the intersection of Commercial and Leidesdorff streets.
1 Mary Ellen Pleasant, also of San Francisco, was the second. Your school textbook and the Guinness Book of Records may have told you that this distinction belonged to Madam C. J. Walker. They lied.
2 That was in 1845, 16 years before the Civil War. That's San Francisco for you.
3 I personally do not believe that a teenager can die overnight of a broken heart, but her father was never arrested. There's definitely no evidence at all to suggest a suicide or an honor killing.
4 Folsom died at the same age as Leidesdorff, thirty-eight. Besides Mrs. Spark, the land was claimed by its former Californio owners and by a number of squatters. The case was decided in Folsom's favor a month after his death.