#52 Ancestors 2022 Week 42 Lost: The Entomological Art of Lillie Sullivan

 At the time of her death in 1903, my cousin Lillian (Lillie) Sullivan was regarded as perhaps the finest entomological artist (i.e. She drew bugs.) in the country.  Today, however, I had a very hard time finding examples of her work, in part because USDA publications did not credit the illustrator and in part because her name was often hidden under the name of her male supervisor at the US Department of Agriculture.

Lillie Sullivan, born in Fauquier County VA in January 1850, was the third child of Luther Own Sullivan and Eliza Ann Scrivener (my 2X-great aunt). 

She started her career as an artist doing mechanical drawings, then began working for the US Department of Agriculture in 1880 and apparently did almost all the insect-related illustrations for their publications.  She studied entomology so that she could perfect her drawings.  However, when I found copies of USDA publications between 1880 and 1900 that featured insect drawings, none of them attributed a name to the artist.  

Her obituary noted that "as an illustrator of insects, her name has become known throughout the world. She was able to draw the insect not only from the outward appearance of the model given her but from the intimate knowledge she possessed of the anatomy of almost every species of insect. She was able to reproduce the bug or beetle as it should be."  She commented that she especially liked to get hold of specimens that were difficult to draw. 

Her obituary in 1903 mentions that she had just completed a set of drawings for The Century Magazine, a very prestigious publication of the 19th and early 20th century.  But when I found the magazine, there was nary a mention of her name.  The drawings appeared in an article about mosquitos done by her boss, Leland Ossian Howard, and the only credit was USDA. 

Again, her obituary mentions that she had just completed some drawings for entomologist Frank Hurlburt Chittendon.  I suspect, however, that Chittendon got the credit for her work.  An 1898 USDA publication about tobacco pests, for example, was filled with detailed drawings of various beetles, worms and moths, but the only credit given was one reference to Chittendon.  

 I finally did find a couple of her drawings, but again, I had to read the fine print because the drawings were in an article about another of her bosses, Charles Valentine Riley. The drawings were attributed to Lillie Sullivan done under the supervision of CV Riley.  

“Principal life stages of the periodical cicada, Magicicada septendecim (L.) ( sensu Riley 1885d), illustrated by Lillie Sullivan under the supervision of C. V. Riley. Reproduced from Report of the Commissioner of Agriculture, 1885. Government Printing Office, Washington, DC. “

I did find one place where Lillie's work was acknowledged.  The Fifth Report of the United States Entomological Commission by A.S. Spring in 1890 notes that he is indebted to Miss Lillie Sullivan for several original drawings, including this handsome pine bark beetle. 

Lillie worked right up to the day of her death.  Indeed, she almost literally died at her desk.  She showed up to work on June 26, 1903, as usual, apparently in the best of health.  About 11 AM, while working on a drawing for Mr. Chittendon, she told her supervisor that she felt ill and had lost the use of her left arm. Mr. Chittendon called a cab for her and sent her home, where she became rapidly worse.  She lived with her mother and her sister Eliza. Becoming weaker and weaker, she died at about 7 that evening. She was buried in the Sullivan plot at Glenwood Cemetery. 

Even though she was apparently very well-known for her unique specialty in her lifetime, Lillie Sullivan's work seems to be largely lost today, somewhat hidden behind the work of famous male entomologists.  I'm glad I can do a little to call attention to her talent. 

A generation later, another relation of mine, Ellen Schutt Wallis, (about whom I have previously written) was also an illustrator at the USDA, who specialized in drawing fruit. Ellen seemed to get a lot more recognition for her work, perhaps because she was a more aggressive personality and less inclined to let her light be hidden under a bushel.