Bethany Burkard

History of Women Artists

Professor Kelly Joslin

19 July 2020

Mary Edmonia Lewis

Edmonia Lewis stands unique in history. Her status as a part African, part Native-American

female sculptor still piques interest similar to the way it did over a hundred years ago. Lewis’s

boldness, with respect to her circumstances, was astounding. Her persistence to find training, her solo

move to Rome, her frequent travels across countries and her endless (and, at times, shameless) self-

promotion all point to a stony, immovable sense of self-worth. Later in life Lewis would tell a reporter

why she sculpted: “To do something for the race—something that will excite the admiration of the

other races of the earth” (Henderson 23). She was motivated, not only by a belief in her own capacities,

but by the awareness that she represented something much greater than herself—women, and colored

women, and African Americans—her father’s people.

Lewis, who was known to have a playful relationship with her own history, gave several

differing accounts of her birth date, but based on her passport and a Massachusetts census, we can

safely place her birth around July 4th, 1844, likely around Albany, New York (25). She was born to a

black father and a Chippewa mother and had a brother, Samuel, who was 12 years her senior.

Throughout her life, Samuel would remain her biggest supporter, her most generous benefactor, and her

closest confidante (300). Orphaned at a young age, both siblings spent several years living with their

aunts among the Indians, who were probably a Mohawk tribe that had absorbed their mother’s tribe at

an earlier date (16). It’s worth noting that the Mohawks were a matrilineal tribe. These early years spent

with powerful women may have instilled in Edmonia the self-confidence that would carry her for the
rest of her life. They certainly left a strong impression on the artist, as she would reference them

frequently in interviews and among friends (and would even be referred to as “more Indian than

African in character”, if not in appearance, by several interviewers) (28).

Around 1852, when Lewis was eight, Samuel left for the West to find his fortune in gold, but

not before paying Lewis’s way through day school for four years, and then in 1859, sending her funds

for Oberlin College. Her experiences at Oberlin would prove to be difficult; likely the worst years of

her life.

Oberlin College in Oberlin, Ohio, was founded in 1833 on the noblest principles by two

staunchly abolitionist ministers. Two years after opening it became the first white college to enroll

African American men, and two years after that, began enrolling women (Mack). Unfortunately, the

college’s progressive nature stood in sharp contrast to the town it resided in, and even to the attitudes

contained in its own student body. Regardless, it was the best option for Edmonia, and she attended for

years, earning high grades. She also received some instruction in drawing, which piqued her interest. At

17, she wrote to her brother and asked if he would be willing to fund her artistic ambitions. After he

sent confirmation, she asked everyone to stop calling her ‘Mary’ and to call her ‘Edmonia’ instead

(Henderson 30)—perhaps signaling her new sense of purpose!

In 1862, a tragic event occurred in Edmonia’s life. Edmonia and two (white) girls she boarded

with had plans one night to go sleighing with some young men. Beforehand, Edmonia served the girls

some spiced wine—and they both later fell severely ill. Edmonia was subsequently accused of

overdosing the girls with a famed aphrodisiac, Spanish fly. As Quinn astutely points out, this was a year

after the Civil War began, and racial tensions were already heightened (1152). Despite Oberlin’s

progressive reputation, barely latent racism boiled to the surface as the implied sexual nature of the

crime and Edmonia’s mixed heritage combined to arouse severe and quick condemnation of her. Four

days after the girls fell ill (they would both recover within a week), on the night of January 31st,
Edmonia was grabbed by a group of vigilantes on her way home, dragged into a nearby field, severely

beaten, and left to die. She may have been assaulted. The details of the crime were never specified. She

was found hours later, stripped of her clothes and barely conscious. One witness described her as

“shockingly mangled…” (Henderson 32). She was 18 years old, and 4 feet tall.

In court, for the supposed poisoning of the girls, Lewis was defended by the famous black

lawyer John Mercer Langston, and she was pronounced innocent of all charges (Chadwick 222). In

what can only be described as pure tenacity, Lewis continued to attend Oberlin. But after a continued

onslaught of false charges (she was next accused of stealing art supplies) she was barred from the

school (Quinn 1152). At the advice of Frederick Douglass, who would remain a friend to her for life,

she left town (Henderson 41). Aside from, we can imagine, private correspondence with her brother,

Edmonia never spoke of her experiences at Oberlin again. She probably wanted to forget them.

Lewis immediately made her way to Boston to speak to famed abolitionist William Lloyd

Garrison, to plead her case. She knew what she wanted to do—something artistic—she just needed help

getting there. On her way to his office, she made a fateful encounter with a larger-than-life bronze

Benjamin Franklin—for the first time putting sculpting in her head in a serious way (41). Garrison

introduced her to Edward Brackett, a self-taught sculptor, and her first ‘teacher’. Brackett did not really

like to teach. He more so provided for Edmonia the rudimentary tools to begin, and he offered valuable

critiques here and there.

In Boston, Edmonia made several important connections that she would maintain for years,

including the social reformer Lydia Maria Child, Anne Whitney, Helen Peabody, and Harriet Hosmer,

who would later give Lewis critical help in getting situated in Italy. Lydia Maria Child was probably

Edmonia’s most stormy, and confusing, friendship. Her first benefactor (aside from her loyal brother)

and a mother figure, Child was one of the first to see and foster the potential in Lewis. She was also the

first to dissuade the artist from acting on her ambitious impulses. For example, after Lewis completed a
plaster bust of Robert Gould Shaw, Child praised it and ordered one for herself. However, after

bringing the bust home, she promptly sawed it in half. Such behavior was likely very bizarre and

hurtful to Lewis. This kind of relationship would be repeated with several other women, including

Anne Whitney, where they would initially be more than willing to be Edmonia’s mentors, but would

then turn on her with strange resentment after she’d obtain some measure of success—perhaps because

she would not always do it on their terms. Before leaving for Italy, Lydia Child strictly warned

Edmonia not to start carving marble without a commission already secured—an admonition Edmonia

would ignore several times over.

During her time in Boston, Edmonia immortalized several heroes in the fight against slavery,

including the fallen commander Robert Gould Shaw, and John Brown, both of whom were of special

importance to her. But despite being surrounded by abolitionists, she keenly felt racism’s effects on her

career prospects. Rome, with its surplus of sculptors and ancient sculpture, lured her. In 1865, at 21

years old, Lewis sailed alone to Europe. In Rome, she met with Harriet Hosmer, who helped her open a

studio across the street. Traveling to another country alone and without any assurance you’ll find a

place to stay is frightening thing to do today, and doubly so in 1865. Perhaps what emboldened

Edmonia was the purpose she fixated on in her mind. She would write a year later of her sculpture

Forever Free, “My first thought was for my poor father’s people, how I could do them good in a very

small way” (86). She would write similar sentiments a decade later. Her purpose never wavered.

The Freed Woman and Her Child, Lewis’s first big work in Rome, “reached legendary status as

the first emancipation statue by a colored sculptor” (117). But it was effectively a failure. The statue,

featuring a former slave woman rejoicing at her broken chains (and the prospect of not having to sell

her child), received widespread criticism for the African woman’s “proportions”, one of the biggest

detractors being Child. As the statue is lost now, we can’t be certain, but it’s likely the woman had

stereotypical African features. This incident is important to note because Lewis is now criticized by
modern observers for her portrayals of Native-American and African women with European faces.

Chadwick notes that this may have been an attempt to avoid the appearance of self-portraiture (29).

While this is possible, it seems equally likely that Lewis, who was frequently a starving artist, did not

want to create pieces that were critical failures. As Henderson writes, “…It seems (Edmonia) decided

to adjust her tactics to advance her mission and swallow her ample racial pride… She never again

idealized a woman with African features” (127).

Her next piece, Forever Free, (featuring a woman with a decidedly European face) was much

more successful. Most of Lewis’s work, and especially the work she did impulsively, contained themes

of her heritage or of mistreated women. She immortalized several Native-American characters from a

Longfellow poem (as well as Longfellow himself), the Biblical character Hagar (an unjustly exiled

wife), and Moses, who led the Jews from slavery into the Promised Land. Many of these pieces can be

perceived as commentary on slavery and racial injustice, but Buick warns not to put too much of a

racialized lens on Edmonia’s work. Considering Lewis’s racial identity “helped as much as it hindered”

her career (Buick 116), I’m of the opinion that while Lewis may have utilized her ‘exotic’ identity, she

never strayed from subject matter that was close to her heart.

Her arguably greatest work, The Death of Cleopatra, came later in Lewis’s career. Begun in

1872, it took four years to complete. At this point, Lewis had experienced enormous highs and lows in

her career. Though her fame had never diminished, she had experienced severe debt not too many years

previously, and taking another loan when she had so recently become debt-free was risky. (It seems

Child’s warning to wait for commissions had its merits!) However, Lewis had her heart set on the

Philadelphia Centennial Exhibition in 1876, and she took out a loan to buy her biggest piece of marble

yet (Henderson 235). She worked on it silently for four years. It must have kept her busy, as she

suddenly started hiring assistants, something she had avoided for years. In 1872, she had nine

assistants. In 1873, she had twenty (235).

 Lewis’s choice of Cleopatra for the Exposition was an interesting one. She likely meant for it to

put herself into direct competition with William Wetmore Story, one of the most popular sculptors of

the day and known for, among other things, his rendition of Cleopatra (Smithsonian). If that was her

intention, it worked: the exposition was a smashing success for Edmonia. Portraying Cleopatra in her

final moments before death, clutching the fatal asp, she both drew in and repulsed viewers. One

reporter wrote that “except The Forced Prayer by Guarnerio, The Death of Cleopatra excites more

admiration and gathers larger crowds around it than any other work of art in the vast collection of

memorial hall” (Henderson 251). The Albany (NY) Sunday Press said Story’s Cleopatra lacked “that

exquisite faultless genius (Lewis) has exhibited.” Yet another journal said more “breadth of handling

and delicacy of treatment” was shown in Edmonia’s (251). It was a historic moment. A colored, mixed-

race woman was put in direct comparison with an older, white man who had years in his profession

over her, and she was unanimously winning. Oberlin, the city that abused and rejected Lewis, bragged

in their newspaper, “the renowned sculptor… took her first lessons in art at Oberlin about 16 years

ago” (254).

After the exhibition, Lewis continued to tour the US and collect commissions. She traveled

through the West, in part to visit her brother, and promoted her work as she went. Eventually, she

retired back to Rome, where she spent many years in financial security working on the occasional

commission. Slowly, she began fading from mention. At some point she moved to London, settling

near a girls’ orphanage. She retired so fully from the public, that many wondered about her death years

before it had even occurred. On September 17th, 1907, she died of Bright’s disease, a painful

deterioration of the kidneys. At 63, she had outlived everyone who loved her. Her profession in her will

was given as ‘Sculptor’, and her name, ‘Mary Lewis’; the name she had let go of 35 years previously.

In 1876, Lewis said during an interview, “Sometimes the times were dark and the outlook was

lonesome, but where there is a will, there is way. I pitched in and dug at my work until now I am where
I am. It was hard work though, but with color and sex against me, I have achieved success. That is what

I tell my people whenever I meet them, that they must not be discouraged, but work ahead until the

world is bound to respect them for what they have accomplished” (265). Edmonia’s purpose, to “excite

admiration of the other races”, became her legacy to the world. She was a trailblazer. A colored San

Francisco newspaper wrote once that her work was “strong evidence of the capacity of our race for the

higher branches of art, and a refutation of the slanders of our natural inferiority” (143). Edmonia

Lewis’s life remains a testament to human potential, strength of will, and her father’s people.
 Works Cited

1. Henderson, Harry, and Albert Henderson. The Indomitable Spirit of Edmonia Lewis : A

Narrative Biography. Esquiline Hill Press, 2012. EBSCOhost, search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?

direct=true&db=nlebk&AN=637489&site=ehost-live.

2. Buick, Kirsten Pai. Child of the Fire: Mary Edmonia Lewis and the Problem of Art History's

Black and Indian Subject. Duke University Press, 2010.

3. Chadwick, Whitney. Women, Art, And Society. Thames & Hudson, 2020.

4. Quinn, Bridget, and Lisa Congdon. Broad Strokes: 15 Women Who Made Art and Made History

(in That Order). Kindle, Chronicle Books, 2017.

5. Mack, Dwayne. “Oberlin College (1833- ) •.” •, 11 Jan. 2020, www.blackpast.org/african-

american-history/oberlin-college-1833/.

6. “William Wetmore Story.” Smithsonian American Art Museum,

americanart.si.edu/artist/william-wetmore-story-4670.