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HARRY GRANT PEARSON : 1911 - 1913 ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT DIARY OF EXOTIC TRAVEL, LOVE TRIANGLES, SECRET ROMANCE HANDWRITTEN BY A FASCINATING, EMOTIVE, DEEPLY INTROSPECTIVE MAN FROM AN ARTISTIC FAMILY AND MARRIED TO AN ARTIST AND IN LAW TO A FRIEND OF BUFFALO BILL CODY

8vo - over 7¾" - 9¾" tall. On offer is a simply super, original 1911 - 1913 manuscript diary handwritten by, as stated in his own hand: "Harry Grant Pearson Manheim and Newhall St. Germantown Philadelphia. Private. c/o London and Brazilian Bank. Buenos Aires Argentina S. A." A very interesting man, Harry was born into and married to a family of artists. His brother, the famous painter Joseph Thurman Pearson Jr., his wife, Jane Jarvis Mumford, were both artists and his father in law was another rare character and friend of Wild Bill Cody. The diary is remarkable on a number of levels. On the one hand the narrative details a fascinating man's desperate love life and his time spent being torn between two women - one he marries and the other who remains a secret love throughout. Also noteworthy is the depth of emotion and intimate thoughts this man shares with his diary and as it states 'private' he means private as he shares his deepest and darkest feelings. This is very rare in men's diaries. Lastly this is a super travel diary wherein Harry writes of the six months he traveled to Argentina. The largish 5¼ x 8½ inch book covers 71 full pages of writing. While he is not the kind of diarist who writes daily but when he has something to express or what he has observed. He really is a wonderful diarist. Here are some snippets: "March 5th, 1911 A few days ago I finished reading "The Dairy of a Lost One." In many ways this book appealed to me, and is really the origins of my present idea. To, from time to time, transfer my thoughts, feelings and varied emotions into this book; that I may at some future time know what I lived at the present time. That it will hold no possible interest to any other than myself. I am sure and it is with the fixed idea that it is to be a thing my very own that I start the inking of my pages. Even at the beginning I find myself in my, probably most embarrassing predicament, which is my little ability to give expression to my stupid and sometimes some how interesting thoughts. It is true I have no brilliant mind, nor overwhelming attractiveness to the mob but so far I have managed to bring through life without bringing upon myself any great or influencing dislikes or habits which sometimes surprises and at others amuses, for I have a decided indifference to the opinions of herd of humanity. I am indeed happy and fortunate in the few friends I have taken into my life……." "March 8th, 1911 Again I am alone but for my book and so I turn to it for a few minutes association. But little of interest has happened to me during the past few days. On Monday night I had the pleasure of seeing Isadora Duncan dance to music by the New York Orchestra. Walter Amrost leading. The music was quite on a level with the dancing which was indeed quite wonderful. The rhythm and poetry of her work made me feel that she was indeed an artist. ……" "March 9th, 1911 It is getting late but I am not tired and so I turn again to my book. I believe this little recreation is going to be a real happiness to me. It is so good to have someone, something to turn to and give your thoughts or your impressions in life…..At present Albert Laessle is about to put into plaster a portrait bust of myself which I think is a good strongly modeled head and quite worthy of the effort of its making. I hope soon to have it put into bronze and then I think I shall be quite content. I spend too many hours in my brother's studio watching him paint, that I think he is one of my greatest delights. To me it is a great privilege to watch the development of a picture from the beginning to its finish and off it goes to an exhibition and I am happy to say, usually receives favorable reviews. Two pictures are now at the Academy of Design in New York. The awards are made tomorrow and the exhibition opens to the public on Sunday. I am so anxious to hear of the awards and read the criticisms. If he could but get a medal! I should be happy for a month! What great happiness is sometimes given to us unknown to the giver." (There is one more entry for March and then he skips now to September which is only on entry and then on to November) "September 8th, 1911 Long have I stayed away from my scribble. Long because I have feared to convey my feelings to paper because fear has entered into me and torn into my fear, my soul, my very life, my conscious. Tumbles and turns my whole existence into turmoil, in which there is no peace, no seeming power to reconstruct." "November 1st, 1911 Today has certainly been the most insulting day I have ever lived. To have stood there before two _______and hear myself called vile, the vilest of vile names, to feel that my very soul was being dragged in the dust and not be able to defend myself or crush the hideous fool who gushed forth his vile filthy stuff. I can not understand how I possible restrained myself. It seems incredible that I who so little fear physical hurt should have tolerated such a scene. What force was it in me that held my hand, that controlled me under such horrible insults. At this time I cannot believe it was I who stood apparently undisturbed and strong enough to resist for the sake of a woman's honor and have gained nothing, nothing but the disrespect of those who know of it and now surely believe me to be a coward or worse than nothing, a fool." "November 11th, 1911 A depression beyond my controls has seized me. I am as a bird wind tossed in the clouds, at the mercy of the elements. The hope in life seems to be suddenly taken from me, the strength to struggle and rise above the cause of my melancholy misfortune is gone. O what a mess I have made of my life. And in my sinking I grasped others and pulled them down with me into the darkness of despair. If I had not done that I think I might go on and hope and fight and win for myself a victory of some sort; but to have torn the very soul of another and wounded it to its very death. It is too much and I feel that my whole strength and struggles will be of no avail and the sense of faring a crime against a human soul will be upon me today, tomorrow and for all time. It is indeed true that in life we pay for all things, and I am but paying in this hour of discontent and despair for the happiness of yesterdays….." "November 17th, 1911 …..Oh the horror of it all, the horrors of my evil touch. I have felt it always and have so far as I have been able, lived within myself and striven to hold my "different state of being" from the nearness of others. Especially from those who seemed to be influenced by it. For I realize that there are those who are attracted by my difference." "December 5th, 1911 I think the pages of my book must shudder when it's transcribed to it the feelings of the past few days. Whew! What a physical young person I have been. I think I have never found myself so possessed by physical desire. It is alarming and brings fear; but I am fortunate in being the possessor of a mere bit of mental strength that holds me from committing an act of folly which I should never cease to regret. The possession of two friends is surely a thing to rejoice in. Times seem to have a tremendous power for pressing me into a weariness these days from which I am weak in freeing myself. It is best, but it seems years since I have seen---today and in that instant I felt her weariness in some mental way transmitted to me. I am almost positive---was feeling the touch of the "blue devils" today and that the remembrances of other days was dwelling within and burning---and I must exist and hope and be of little use---small consolation." (At this time he takes trip to Mohawk to stay with family for a while. The first trip was wonderful but the second trip he finds the depression sinking in) "January, 1912 …….She is ever in my mind, just as ever present as the morning and the evening time. Without her spiritual presence I should feel a deep depression of my whole being in which I should struggle and war against an ongoing and tortuous force, incessantly. And yet I cannot be sometimes feel that such a condition would be preferable if by its presence it was certain that she had ceased to suffer through me. The relationship is impossible to me. I am blind and dumb, when I strive to see or think of any solution in which peace, happiness or contentment is to be found. I am sometimes forced to wonder what force it is stirring in me……." (The above entry is longer and then there is one more before his next entry which is in December of 1912. He tore out some pages but explains why in this next passage) "December 17, 1912 on board S. S. Oceanic I am sorry I have destroyed certain pages of my ___book. How amusing it is going to be for me to read some day, that day when I have found myself in Arcadia. It's going to come! I am wandering again friend book, to Paris we go first. I think I am going to have many things to tell you before we go from Paris, then we go traveling down to South America where God knows what awaits us. It seems friend book that love is driving us on most of our wanderings. But you know I do love her so I don't so much mind going on my little journey, if in doing so I am helping her and I am certain that I am helping her in her very _____battles by coming away. If she doesn't win, book, it's going to hurt a lot for I love her more than anything in life---and which she is far from the land of contentment. I cannot possibly enter in myself. I don't want to go into that land without her. O, if we might go together. The first thing at morn, the last thing at night, you are in my thoughts. I know you are going to prove to others that you are what I think you to be, you must!" "December 23rd, 1912 We are in Paris! But we find Paris not the Paris we had expected to; for woman has entered in again and controls my riotous thoughts. I had thought many stupidly wild things were going to entertain you; but instead you find me, leading a most conservative existence…..I am go

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