Looking for Edmonia Lewis’s grave in Rome, based on bogus reports published by lazy writers and editors 100 years ago, was a complete waste. I wasn’t the only one on that wild goose chase.

At one time, we queried parish records in New York, New Jersey, and Canada. Many archivists kindly searched their records, finding nothing. Others advised me of records lost. We also found parish microfilms online, enabling searches not only of baptisms but of deaths, looking for anyone named “Lewis.”

We eventually deduced that Edmonia’s parents were not Catholic. Their baptisms and deaths were thus unlikely to appear in parish records, even though Edmonia referred to “black robes” of her childhood.

A member of the black-robed “black Franciscans” in Rensselaer NY made the point that his order did not come to the United States until after 1850. Thus Franciscans could not be confused with the Jesuit missionaries who taught Edmonia prayers.

Neither the Archivio del storico del Vicariato nor we were able to find any record of Edmonia’s adult baptism in Rome. Some other diocese must have a record. We applied to likely suspects, Venice and Sorrento, but neither replied.

To what extent did these fruitless searches follow in the footsteps of others? It doesn’t matter. I hope this short article and other notes will save other researchers valuable time.

– A. H. Nov. 30, 2012

E-Books and Apple Pie

Not surprisingly, friends and family turned to “Real books” versus E-books after Thanksgiving dinner this year. One after another said, in effect, “I don’t want e-books. I like real books!”

Unhappily, we worried over the sea changes in reading and buying behaviors. E-books are outselling paperbacks. People with smartphones and other devices are downloading on the fly and carrying dozens of books wherever they go. The Borders chain, which had no foothold in e-books, closed hundreds of bookstores and went out of business last year. The other big booksellers, Barnes & Noble and Amazon.com, each have major investments in digital readers. Why do we resist the inevitable?

I get it, of course. Not long ago, I was squarely in the “real books” camp. I was born during the Great Depression and raised to appreciate the simple life. I prefer the familiar over the new, the commonplace to the novelty, and simple mechanics rather than technology I don’t understand. I am also partial to:

A manual transmission in a car,

Live performances,

Black-and-white photos and movies.

I keep my old Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary within arm’s reach. I can get a fair definition more quickly online, but I tend to doubt the quality. My office bookshelves, double deep floor to ceiling, barely leave room for doors and windows. Where would I put the dozens of books I read online? Google Books offers full-text searches that help me find the books I need, but with a “real book” I can keep a finger in the notes or index as I gloss the text. I also get irritated with reading ‘portrait’-shaped pages with my ‘landscape’ computer screen. If I really like a book that I find online, I will buy and add it to my sagging shelves.

We cannot judge the promise of e-books by old PDF files. Unlike ill-fitting scans of old tomes, the “pure” e-book – made for the Kindle, the Nook, the Adobe Digital Reader, etc, – fits the screen perfectly. They free your finger-in-the-back-of-the-book as hyperlinks take you from text to note and back with a click or two. You can annotate your copy (without guilt), search for a word or phrase, and pull up a dictionary definition with ease. The technology allows you to change the type size, lend your copy, or borrow from a library.

The migration to e-books is not like a choice of canned fruit over fresh. I learned to type on a hand-me-down Royal portable, and my hands are stronger for it. Years ago, however, I gave up the Royal (not to mention the white-out correction fluid) when I learned how to use WordStar on an Osborne with the CP/M operating system. I put the dear old Royal in a corner for a while and finally took it to the dump. Eventually I also upgraded my hardware and software. With little effort and no middlemen, I can now publish on the Internet or in an online bookstore.

The past can be convincing as prolog. Today’s Holy Bible originally existed as hand-written scrolls rather than as mechanically-produced books. As a Jew, Jesus Christ must have meant a scroll, not a book, when he referred to scripture. Jews still use such scrolls for religious services. Yet, Christians abandoned the scroll early on. They still apply words like “biblio” [from the Greek βιβλίο] and “volume” [from the Latin volvere (to roll)] when talking and writing about books, even e-books.

Like Moore’s Law (that the number of transistors on integrated circuits doubles periodically) the technology of bookmaking has a record of exponential progress. The “real” book took about three thousand years to develop from the first handwritten scrolls. Another fifteen hundred years passed before Gutenberg gave us the concept of mechanical printing. Now, about five hundred years later, the e-book is here and claiming huge successes, particularly with the younger generation. Few bibliophiles mourn the scroll.

Despite my stated preferences for the familiar over the new, I don’t consider myself a hypocrite as I drive a car with automatic transmission and enjoy recorded performances – mostly in color. I spent decades years in the business of publishing: dealing with printers, binders, warehouses, shippers, booksellers, customs brokers, the postal service, and so on. Our new e-books bypass all that, with savings in cost so huge they let us cut retail prices by two thirds. More than that, they are virtually weightless, collect no dust, will never go out-of-print, and will never sag a shelf.

How could a reasonable person argue against all that?

Please pass the pie.

– A. H. Nov. 23, 2012

Research note:

Trivia- The Colored Soldiers Fair 

Most historical references point to Nov. 11, 1864, as the date Edmonia Lewis’s historic plaster bust of Col. Robert Gould Shaw launched her reputation as a portraitist at the Colored Soldiers’ Fair in Boston. After all, the Boston Transcript raved about Lewis's work on that date. 

But the Colored Soldiers Fair, which was organized by the wife of colored painter Edward M. Bannister, had occurred in mid-October. The story in the Transcript (and later in the Liberator) was about the National Sailors' Fair. 

On Nov. 14, the Transcript published a correction, noting that production problems had delayed its appearance. 

On Nov. 15, John Greenleaf Whittier, in a letter to Lydia Maria Child, noted he had seen the bust that she had spoken to him about at the colored fair. "It struck me as very excellent." We suggest Nov. 15 be memorialized as the first public appearance of Edmonia Lewis's portrait bust of Col. Shaw. 

Lewis eventually sold (and gave away) 100 copies of the Shaw bust and received commissions for other portraits, including Maria Weston Chapman, Horace Mann, 'Dio' Lewis, and others.

The National Sailors' Fair raised $247,000 to build a home for disabled seamen. Whittier was on its editorial board and contributed a poem titled 'The Boatswain's Whistle."

– A.H. Nov. 15, 2012, Dec. 28, 2012

Research note:

Family Tree

Everywhere in America, there seem to be people named “Lewis” (first or last name) if not “Luis” or “Louis.” It is a database searcher’s nightmare. Few are colored (usually noted in 19th-century records), and fewer yet have a “Mary” and “Samuel” in the same family – Edmonia’s father and brother both were named “Samuel.” Edmonia's first name, rarely used by her after 1862, was "Mary." Thankfully, the name “Edmonia” was relatively special.

Despite considerable efforts to uncover Edmonia Lewis’s family tree, both online and off, most of it remains a mystery. She visited with her brother in Boston, Chicago, somewhere west of St. Paul, and probably Philadelphia. But she did not provide his name or introduce him to anyone on the record. Discovery of his identity seems miraculously connected to Haiti, the birthplace he kept secret most of his life, as discussed in our book. His autobiographical articles led us to her father, who, in turn led us to Hannah Lewis, a likely earlier generation, in Newark, NJ.

Some database results remain of interest. Perhaps more research will turn up clear connections. I can offer the interested reader two examples:

“Hannah Lewis” appeared with "Samuel Lewis," the name of Edmonia’s father, in Newark, NJ, as discussed in our book.  In a later (1860) census, Hannah S. Lewis – age 85 and credited with real estate valued at $1200, personal property valued at $100 – appeared at a Newark NJ house (but in a separate apartment from) James H. Newman, age 25, who operated a store, and his wife, also Hannah, 24. Because Edmonia and her brother made no further reference to New Jersey, we did not follow up.

The 1850 census of Syracuse NY, where [Mary] Edmonia stopped several times, is intriguing. The daughter of Fortune Lewis was named “Mary” (age 3; born in Syracuse). Next door, the family of Charley Lewis included another “Mary” (age 17; birthplace not given) and a “Samuel” (age 22). Several of Charley's children were born in New Jersey. Is it possible Edmonia was related to this family of basket weavers through her father’s New Jersey traces? Names often repeat within a family tree. Again, we did not pursue this possibility.

A more elusive reference to her aunt at Niagara Falls is so vague it is unhelpful. Although Whitney (Dec. 12, 1869) understood one aunt, “her old Aunt – her mother’s sister.” An interview quotation (Daily Graphic), however, went plural, “My Indian aunts took care of me.”

Or were there faults in transcriptions? “Aunt” is a title often generously applied. Could her aunt(s) have not been related by blood? Or did totem, a Chippewa form of kinship, play a part? Edmonia understood her brother had been in touch with her aunt(s), but they did not share her Chippewa mother.

Edmonia passed through the Albany and Niagara regions on her way to Chicago, etc. She could have stopped many times, but she reported only one visit with her aunt(s). We lack the maiden name of Edmonia’s mother and no source tells us more. We contacted many archivists in the Albany and Niagara regions, looking for school, baptismal, and burial records that might have given up such information. We found nothing. 

Further inquiries seem impossible. 

But, then, relatives may turn up when least expected.

– A.H. Nov. 1, 2012

Hats off to the Edmonia Lewis Center on Spirit Day, 2012

The Edmonia Lewis Center for Women and Transgender People at Oberlin College, named after Mary Edmonia Lewis, is "a collective of students, staff, and administrators who strive to transform existing systems of oppression based on sex, gender, race, class, sexuality, age, ability, size, religion, nationality, ethnicity, and language."

Oct. 19, 2012

Tremont Temple - Oct. 18, 1869

In January 1864,  Lydia Maria Child met Edmonia Lewis at Tremont Temple in Boston, where abolitionists -- white and African-American -- were celebrating the anniversary of the Emancipation Proclamation. Mrs. Child reported their meeting that February, in effect introducing the "colored sculptor" to the readers of William Lloyd Garrison's Liberator. The following year, she expanded the interview for a Detroit newspaper.

Mrs. Child's enthusiasm was as unpredictable as the weather. Her private letters and public essays reflect deep conflicts, one day joy, another day remorse. She tried to stall Edmonia's ambition, first objecting to the plan to memorialize the martyred Col. Robert Gould Shaw -- later praising her work. She remarked kindly on a photo (sent from Rome) of The Freedwoman and her Child in the New York Independent but opposed raising money to put it into marble. Months later, seeing a photo of Forever Free, she clearly praised it in the Independent but complained rather bitterly about it when it arrived in Boston.

Oct 18, 1869: After more than a year of controversy, Edmonia Lewis returned to Boston and received honors at Boston's Tremont Temple with the presentation of Forever Free to Rev. Leonard Grimes. Grimes was a leading black abolitionist and pastor of the 'Fugitive Slave Church.' He had transported many fugitive slaves to safety and, when caught, spent time in a Richmond jail. Attending the reception were Rev. J. D. Fulton, Rev. Robert C. Waterston, William Lloyd Garrison, William Craft and William Wells Brown. Not reported in attendance: Mrs. Child and her dear friends, Wendell Phillips and Mr. and Mrs. Samuel E. Sewall. 

Ten years earlier on this date, John Brown had stormed the arsenal at Harpers Ferry, hoping to start a slave rebellion. He was vilified and hanged for his trouble.

Forever Free (now at Howard University) is the earliest surviving Emancipation work by an African-American artist.

By the time Forever Free arrived in Boston, Edmonia had started her third and final symbolic Emancipation work, Hagar (a version dated 1875 can be seen in the Smithsonian American Art Museum). She sent a photo to Mrs. Child, but she had little hope of restoring the support she once enjoyed. 

 More on all this in The Indomitable Sprit of Edmonia Lewis, A Narrative Biography.

–  A. H.

Research note:

Searching for the Last Days.

 Sept 30, 2012

The 100-year mystery of Edmonia Lewis’s disappearance can be documented by the notices posted by her fans seeking her whereabouts, as discussed in our book. Her brother’s will put her in Paris in 1896. Our last reliable record dated from 1901, the English census, which found her living in the Bloomsbury area of central London – a fact not widely known even today.

 Countless 20th-century researchers looked for traces of her in Rome, based on “sightings” now known to be false. For decades, my father and I joined in, each of us going there, but also hiring local researchers to look through Italian, French, and English records at considerable expense. We found only more rumors. As more vital records became available online and produced nothing, it seemed she must have been lost at sea, while traveling rural America, or in some other calamity.

 Imagine my excitement on the morning of Nov. 2, 2010, when I found a reference to “LEWIS, Mary Edmonia” in the National Probate Calendar of England and Wales, a pay-per-view database run by the British arm of Ancestry.com. It continued, “of 154 Blythe-road, Hammersmith Middlesex spinster died 17 September 1907 at the  Hammersmith-borough-infirmary Goldhawk-road Hammersmith Probate London 12 November to the reverend Charles Cox clerk Effects £489 0s. 6d.”  [“Middlesex spinster” was a county that included Hammersmith and Fulham.]

We had seen “LEWIS, Mary” many times over in the English death index, but never “LEWIS, Mary Edmonia.” It made little sense to me that our subject could be in the probate index but not in the other. I needed to verify just who this was.

Over the next few days, I contacted the Diocese of Westminster in London, the Hammersmith & Fulham Archives (who kindly directed me to the London Metropolitan Archives), Catholic cemeteries, the Holy Trinity church in Hammersmith, and other potential sources of information. Not all responded, as is so often the case with long-distance inquiries about matters of historical interest.

However, results were more than satisfactory. Within a month, at the cost of $8.10 for a draft in British pounds plus a bank fee of $15.00, I had a copy of the will. I also obtained a copy of the official death certificate. A page from a microfilm of the Hammersmith Infirmary (no longer in existence) register of deaths cited “Lewis, Mary” age 42, etc. on the date in question.

I had searched the England & Wales, Death Index: 1837-1915 online and, earlier, in 2006, paid £44.50 for someone else to search the records 1901 through 1940. No one could assure me that the index included all deaths. Curiously, it listed the death of “Lewis, Mary, 42” at Fulham, rather than Hammersmith, on the date in question. A patient English archivist explained over the telephone the obscure administrative reasons why this had been done.

I also studied maps and other documents that could provide information about the neighborhood, and I looked into the people, such as Rev. Charles Cox, churches, and other places of relevant interest. What I found was often interesting but not always of specific interest to Edmonia Lewis’s life and art. I also traced a number of leads that appeared to be of minor value. 

> Google maps could take me “street level” to the neighborhoods, some of which have obviously changed a lot since 1907 -- others not so much. 

> Rev. Cox lived near Our Lady of Victories church in Kensington with two other priests, and three women: a cook, a parlourmaid, and a housemaid, according to the 1901 census.

> According to the 1891 census, 154 Blythe Road had 20 residents in five households. The 1901 census described it as a private house with 11 rooms and seven householders, many with the last name "Kennedy."  

> A flat at 156a Blythe Road, which today appears in the same row of seemingly identical houses as number 154, was for sale at the time. The agent verified it was "Victorian," built around the early 1900s. She sent a description: 544 sq. ft. with a floor plan and some photos of the one bedroom, reception room, kitchen, and patio garden. Obviously, the kitchen and bathroom were modernized after World War II, but I thought it comparable to many London flats I had seen. 

> The cause of death given by the Hammersmith Infirmary journal, “Bright thaemia,” was not rare then, but the term is archaic jargon today, according to the Wellcome Library in London. 

> Wikipedia offers a list of notable deaths credited to Bright’s disease.

> The diocesan archivist could give me some history about Rev. Charles Cox (1853-1916), a serious musician who served at historic Our Lady of Victories at the time Edmonia wrote her will, but they had nothing on the bulk of the Lewis estate, which was left to Rev. Cox. Cox was credited with clearing the church's debt, and the Lewis bequest may have helped. 

> Lewis's personal effects and a small sum went to neighbor Virginia Lucy Gerres, daughter of a German baker, who died unmarried in 1957 with an estate worth £20,000.  

By mid-December, with the aid of an earnest librarian at one of the great American Catholic universities, I obtained a copy of the official death notice published in The Tablet.

The will specified, "I wish that on my decease the usual preparations for burial may be carried out under the supervision of a Catholic Nun and that my body be enclosed in a dark walnut coloured coffin." It continued, "I desire that a funeral service be carried out over my body in the Catholic Church of Our Lady of Victories Kensington prior to its interment and that the body be carried to the Kensal Green Catholic Cemetery on a hearse that shall be draped so as to completely cover the coffin from view. I desire further that my body be followed to the grave by two Catholic Nuns in a carriage...."  

St. Mary's Roman Catholic Cemetery at Kensal Green (also known as Kensal Rise) is a 29 acre site up the hill from the much larger Kensal Green Cemetery. St. Mary's did not reply to my several inquiries. Eventually Edmonia's grave (350C) would be located, listed in the Cemetery's records as "Mary Lewis."

The death certificate, notice, and the will written in 1905 tell us that we have the correct Mary Lewis. It seems clear that she covered her tracks – but not why. Thanks to the thoroughness of English record-keeping and the emergence of online databases, we finally know essential facts.

I had intended to hold this discovery for publication of The Indomitable Sprit of Edmonia Lewis, A Narrative Biography, which at the time was under review by a traditional publisher. After seeing a press release dated Jan 9, 2011, by Marilyn Richardson (who is also preparing a biography of Edmonia Lewis), I decided she was right. I published the documents and a brief commentary the next day on www.edmonialewis.com rather than prolong the agony for others by forcing them to replicate my work.

We include much more about Edmonia Lewis’s last days in our book, of course, the various places she lived, and the institutions and people who seemingly played a role in her life.

– A.H. 

PS October, 2017: Bobbie Reno provided photos, before and after, of Edmonia Lewis's grave in London, England.  Congratulations to Bobbie and to all who contributed and cheered her onward!

 Why www.edmonialewis.com

"In an effort to counter 150 years of errors, confusion, and meanness, I made a free web site filled with facts, links, quotations, and news of auctions and museum acquisitions: “Edmonia Lewis: First Internationally Acclaimed African-American Sculptor,” at www.edmonialewis.com. I am pleased to report the number of visitors has steadily risen each year. I encourage readers of this biography* to check the site for copies of documents and other useful information as well as to register to receive notice of “Edmonia Lewis News” via email."

*(from The Indomitable Sprit of Edmonia Lewis, A Narrative Biography)

– A.H.