LOST AND FOUND
If tears could build a stairway,
And thoughts a memory lane,
I’d walk right up to heaven,
And bring you home again.
My heart’s still active in sadness,
And secret tears still flow,
What it meant to lose you,
No one can ever know.
Since you’ll never be forgotten,
I pledge to you today,
A hallowed place within my heart,
Is where you’ll always stay.
This is a tale of two eccentric soul mates whose time together on earth was all too brief. They longed to simply spend their lives together, but kismet would have other plans in mind. The passionate couple would only spend months as man and wife, but would spend eternity in each other’s hearts. As Alfred Lord Tennyson says, “It’s better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all.”
Elizabeth Boott was born in Boston in 1846, but everyone called her “Lizzie.” When she was just a baby, her mother and brother passed away from tuberculosis and left her father with the sole responsibility of raising her. Francis Boott and his daughter were much closer than most. He was completely devoted to his daughter and enjoyed spending all of his time with her. Francis was an artist, and little Lizzie wanted to grow up to be just like her father.
The Cincinnati Art Museum in Eden Park is home to several unrested souls. Authors’ collection.
During her youth, Lizzie was very privileged. Her father was able to send her to the best schools and give her the finest of things. The duo lived as high-class citizens of Italy. They were prominent figures in their community and were very well liked. Little Lizzie was a polite girl and was quite the charmer. She grew up with fine arts and music all around her and took an interest at an early age. Francis nurtured her talents early on.
Francis would send Lizzie to exclusive art schools, with only an elite few joining in her classes. By her mid-twenties she was starting to be taken seriously as a painter. She was exhibiting her work on a regular basis and was following in her father’s footsteps. She continuously craved new information and techniques, though never straying far from her father. They enjoyed traveling and learning together. This would eventually take them back to Boston, where they first heard of a fellow artisan by the name of Frank Duveneck. They bought a painting from his exhibit but did not actually meet the painter for years to come.
A portrait of the late Frank Duveneck, who interacts with guests in Cincinnati Art Museum. Authors’ collection.
Frank Duveneck came from less than humble beginnings. His mother was orphaned at a young age, and she and her sister were forced to walk barefoot to a neighboring town to find a place to live. She had to work as a servant girl in order to survive and lived the life of a peasant. Frank was born on October 9, 1848, as Frank Decker of Covington, Kentucky, just outside of Cincinnati. His father died during a cholera epidemic when he was only an infant. His mother remarried Joseph Duveneck later that year, and Frank was granted his last name, though Frank’s birth certificate would still read Frank Decker. A bier garten was the family’s main source of income, and they were considered to be very poor. He was of German ancestry and was known for speaking an entertaining mixture of broken English and German throughout his life.
While growing up, Frank’s mother was a servant to a leading portraitist by the name of James Beard. This sparked Duveneck’s excitement for artistry as a child. He would watch and learn from his idol and took great interest in his techniques. Frank practiced his skills in his youth and displayed a very advanced talent. He would paint signs and coaches when he was very young, and this would bring his family some much-needed income. When he was only fifteen, he began his formal training and started working at an altar-making shop, where he would decorate and paint murals for German churches. In 1869, Frank left the states at the age of twenty-one to study abroad in Munich at one of the leading art schools. Frank would call Munich his home for over ten years before meeting the love of his life.
Lizzie had heard that Mr. Duveneck would be teaching classes in Boston, and Lizzie jumped onboard with her father at her side. She fell for the professor of arts right away and often wrote to her friends of her secret love for Duveneck. Lizzie adored her teacher, who was two years her junior, and also respected his artwork. Eventually she spoke to Duveneck about him moving to Florence, where she and her father were living. This was to be a business venture, as she proposed, that would benefit them both. She would talk up this bright young painter to her rich friends and recommend that they buy his artwork, and she would get a commission for her services. She begged him to come back with her, and they could discover new art together. Florence promised him more beginnings and a prosperous future, and Duveneck didn’t have much to lose.
In 1879, Duveneck found himself leaving Munich and heading to be with his former student Lizzie in Florence. Joining him for the move were more than a dozen of his friends and colleagues. It wasn’t long after the move that Lizzie and Duveneck became romantically involved. The romance took off with a vengeance, and the couple soon discussed marriage. It appeared to be a natural decision for the new couple, as they just knew that they would only be happy in life if they were together.
This would not go over well with Lizzie’s father, Francis. Francis did not trust the penniless Duveneck with his very well-to-do daughter. He feared that Duveneck was only after his daughter’s money and had ill intentions for her. Francis’s jealousy caused rage toward the new love interest, for he had always had Lizzie all to himself, and now this man was coming between the duo. Francis respected Duveneck as a painter but would still pressure Lizzie that he was no good for her. He made it very clear that Lizzie was not to have anything to do with this pauper. Francis managed to convince some of Lizzie’s friends that her relationship was toxic, and they, too, would often advise of their disapprovals. This decision would weigh heavily on Lizzie’s soft heart. She found it unimaginable to choose between the man with whom she had spent her entire life and the man with whom she wanted to spend her future.
Lizzie continued to struggle with the decision, with much pressure from both sides. She decided to get away from it all and head to Spain with some of her former classmates. This would give her some much needed time away from her father, whom she’d never been away from for any substantial amount of time. The vacation seasoned Lizzie’s spirits and gave her a second breath of inspiration for her work. She came back determined to be successful and to make her own decisions in life.
Her escape when she returned was to devote herself to her paintings. She would take all of her frustrations out with her paintbrush. Every emotion burst out with a color on the canvas. Lizzie would spend her days slinging the paint, creating masterpiece after masterpiece. Quickly she would rise to the top, and she would become enthralled with her paintings. Many would start to talk about this beautiful and talented painter named Lizzie Boott.
In 1885, Lizzie and Duveneck announced their engagement. This came as devastating news to Mr. Boott, who felt that he needed to protect his daughter. Francis was frantic to guard his daughter’s fortune. He had his lawyers prepare several documents before the marriage was allowed to take place. The first was an agreement that Duveneck would have no claim to Lizzie’s fortune. The other transferred Lizzie’s entire estate to Francis as sole trustee.
On March 25, 1886, Lizzie and Duveneck finally became husband and wife. They were married at the Bootts’ apartment, and Lizzie wore a beautiful dark brown dress, which was the fashion at the time. The couple was so excited to finally have a chance to be together. They took off for a month-long honeymoon, where they could finally spend time enjoying each other’s company, with no one else around.
Upon returning, the Duvenecks would spend all of their time together with big smiles that wouldn’t wipe away from their cheeks. They were such passionate people, as many artists often are. They would use their time together painting and basking in each other’s love. They would spend their days sharing their infatuation with each brush stroke, often painting the same things. No words needed to be spoken, for their love required no words.
They soon welcomed a baby boy into the world, named none other than Francis Boott Jr., and many things would change for the couple. The baby brought them even closer together and strengthened their bond. The joys of parenthood were felt by both Mr. and Mrs. Duveneck. Lizzie relished in motherhood and would divide her time with her artistry. One day Frank asked the mother of his child if he could paint her, so that he could remember his lovely wife just as she was at that moment in time, and Lizzie adoringly agreed. She wore her brown wedding dress, and he painted her in all of her glorious beauty. This was the happiest that the couple would ever be and the last time that he would ever paint his beautiful wife.
The baby was only a few months old in the winter of March 1888, exactly two years after the couple had finally celebrated their union, when Lizzie came down with a chill. Sadly, the lack of medical advancements at the time meant that the chill turned into pneumonia, and after just a few days Lizzie slipped into a cold and dark death. This came as sudden and unexpected news to everyone, especially to Duveneck. He couldn’t grasp what had happened and quickly fell into a depression from which he would never recover.
Duveneck allowed Lizzie’s father to have control over the baby’s future. Francis decreed that his grandson would stay with his family in Massachusetts. Duveneck took jobs close to his son so that he could watch him grow. Francis had complete control over his grandson, much as he had with Lizzie. Duveneck was so distraught and depressed that he cared little about anything in his life. He spent his days after Lizzie’s death creating a bronzed sculpture of her likeness, which has long been his most admired piece. The cryptlike sculpture depicts Lizzie lying peacefully with her hair pulled in curls on the side of her head, wearing a dress, arms folded across her chest and with a slight smile as she rests in peace. The memorial sits at her grave in the cemetery of the Laurels in Florence, Italy.
Duveneck maintained a primary residence in the Cincinnati area. He began teaching at the Cincinnati Art Museum and helped make it into what it is today. He was the dean at the Art Academy for some time. He found life to be very unfulfilling in the days without Lizzie. He seldom painted, and when he did it was with little emotion. He mourned for his wife every day. He began building a replica of Lizzie’s original bronze monument to place on display in the Cincinnati Art Museum for his son to someday see. He sculpted Lizzie with every memory he had of touching her skin. The amazingly lifelike replica was placed in the art museum and is still there today. The museum has the largest collection of Duveneck’s art and displays it on a rotating basis.
Duveneck passed away in 1919 at age seventy. Much of his artwork can be seen in the Cincinnati Wing of the Cincinnati Art Museum in Eden Park, along with his bronzed memorial of Lizzie. A portrait of her in her brown wedding dress is displayed on a rotating basis beside her bronzed memorial. It is said that the long-lost lovers have chosen this museum to meet in death. There have been many reports of a woman in a brown dress rising out of the monument and floating toward her lover’s paintings and portraits, as if she was admiring his work. The ghost of Frank Duveneck has also been seen in the same room that they share. They have occasionally been seen darting through other galleries, admiring the art. Perhaps this is their secret meeting place now? Many guests and employees have admitted to seeing the woman in the brown wedding dress amongst the exhibits. Lizzie and Duveneck are forever surrounded by their passion for art and long to share it with us. One thing is for certain: they are finally in peace and will be together forever.
The art museum is filled with unique art and colors that brighten up the silent halls. The art speaks to you so powerfully that it feels like you have an obligation to only speak in soft whispers here. That is probably why Lizzie and Duveneck have been spotted hanging around so often. They aren’t the only apparitions to be seen darting among the art. This museum has a few more unexpected guests that you may encounter.
If you follow the staircase up to the second floor of the art museum, it will take you to another room, filled with exquisite murals and unearthly occurrences. The walls of exhibit 204 are filled with twelfth- to sixteenth-century religious and Gothic art. The grand white pillars that encompass the white room lead you through a section of European art that celebrates religion. One of the paintings depicts angels and demons—a fitting omen for the gallery. In the center of the humbling room is a handcrafted Gothic-style bench, where patrons can rest and enjoy the most beautiful murals. The most capturing piece on display here is a massive altarpiece from the 1550s. With its wood frame and oversized opening doors, the former cathedral piece is hard to ignore. Thirteen panels are painted with eccentric colors, and each picture illustrates a scene from the Bible. This is the spot where people have reported seeing a levitating monk. The figure is dark and seems to be found near this altarpiece. Since the piece is about 460 years old, the monk could be from any time period. He probably would date back to about the same time period that the altarpiece would have been used in the church, making the monk roughly the same age. He has been seen around the altarpiece and can be seen encompassing the room. His presence is always abrupt and vanishes quickly.
Before leaving the art museum, make sure that you stop and see the 2,300-year-old mummy. There have been numerous reports of a seven-foot-tall black specter that rises out of the mummy sarcophagus and bellows up through the ceiling. This is a rather rare specter that has no defined features, such as a face or hands, and is described more as a blur. People have reported uncontrollable nightmares after encountering the mummy. Guards have also reported a green glowing face staring at them and chasing them throughout the storage room, which is directly above the sarcophagus. The assumption is that the sarcophagus is the source of the storage room havoc, since it lies above the body.
The art museum’s mummy is said to be cursed. Authors’ collection.
Not much is known about this mummy, only that he was an adult male about thirty-five. He comes from Egypt, which has long been associated with mummies’ curses, and disturbing them from their eternal resting spot seems to bring on a streak of bad luck. Often, after the bodies are disrupted, there are reports of large and eerie specters. With history on its side, these accounts could have some veracity. Some believe that the curses will not end until the mummies are laid to rest properly. Being on permanent display was probably not a person’s ideal resting place. The constant tapping on glass and staring of visitors make for a pretty disturbing afterlife. The cycle of this curse may continue, and the mummy could become more aggressive as his patience wears thin. This mummy can be viewed just before the main exit on the first floor.
Visiting the Cincinnati Art Museum is like traveling through time. As you browse through the galleries you find yourself engulfed in creativity and excellence. These walls speak to you and tell you of tales from centuries past. This elegance of the art mixed with the ghostly accounts give a whole new meaning to the saying “bringing art to life.”
HAUNTING ACTIVITY SCALE
Frequency*
Intensity**
Type: residual imprint, shadow people, apparitions