Henry Edward Lewis was an entertainer who continuously toured the British Isles from 1850 until his death in 1857, lecturing and practising before paying audiences ‘mesmerism’ or ‘magnetism’ (both terms used for what we would call hypnotism) on local subjects. He also lectured on the subject of phrenology, the then popular art of deriving information about people from the shape of their skulls.
His visit to Hastings and St Leonards was during January to April 1857, with the Hastings and St Leonards Gazette giving detailed accounts of his performances. All my citations below are from the Gazette. For some reason that newspaper invariably called him G.H. Lewis, and variously called him an African or a ‘gentleman of color’ or ‘colored gentleman.’ Jeffrey Green has put together a great deal of information on him from many newspapers at his H.E. Lewis, “The Negro mesmerist” 1850-1857 page.
He was possibly from New Brunswick, Canada, and remains a rather mysterious figure.
Locally, he first provided a ‘mesmeric entertainment’ at the George Street Assembly Room in Hastings on the 12 January 1857. The 17 January issue reported briefly on three performances in Hastings, before the 24 January issue gave a detailed account of a St Leonards performance, with the heading ‘Magnetic seances’, as given here:
Mr G.H. Lewis, the gentleman of color, who gave, last week, in Hastings, a verbal and practical exposition of the art he professes, entertained a large company at St Leonards, on Wednesday, and again on Thursday evening; the Assembly Room, on the last occasion, being crowded in every part. The power of the magnetiser was exhibited in several instances to a remarkable degree; while the mental impressions made on some of those who submitted themselves to his operations were such as to leave no doubt in the minds of all but the willfully sceptical of the great truth of which Mr Lewis was the exponent. The case of Capt. Brisco was very conclusive on this point. Here was a person who – according to his own statement – determined to act the part of a deceiver up to a certain point, when, on the challenge of the magnetiser, to be struck by the captain, the former was to have implanted on his breast such a blow as should fell him to the ground. But instead of the captain being able to carry out his intention, he became so completely under the control of the operator as to be unable to resist the influence exerted on him, although sometimes aided by three of the strongest of his friends. This and similar facts becoming patent, Mr Lewis had no lack of “subjects” on the following night – there being as many as the platform would conveniently hold. Out of this number two persons only had been influenced when the magnetiser, in the order of rotation, commenced operations on a determined sceptic, in the person of Mr Knox – and for which purpose, it appeared to us, Mr Lewis had been reserving his energies – he having previously, at Mr Knox’s request, given a phrenological judgment on his organization, and, consequently, must have known something of his character. We have not space to describe all that took place, but never was a man of energetic volition and powerful muscle more completely subjugated by his fellow-man. His repeated attempts to resist the being thrown to the floor – to rise when laid prostrate – to remove from his seat, &c. were wholly abortive. Another of the persons brought under the magnetic influence was a son of Mr W. Beck, who was found to be so susceptible of the “mental impression” as to be capable of doing the bidding of the operator with a boldness and rapidity of execution which he never could have effected in his normal condition. When told that his foot was hot – that it was burning, he stamped on the floor vehemently and cried piteously – the tears flowing copiously from his eyes, and his body writhing with agony. We note one more feat of Mr Lewis, and then take leave of him. – He announced that he would leave the room for exactly two minutes, during which short time one or more of the audience should become magnetised; which was really the case – two persons having fallen under the influence, within the time specified.
There was another long account in the 31 January issue, where he is referred to as ‘Mr Lewis, the colored gentleman.’ Lewis had performed again in the Assembly Room on the Wednesday evening. He had previously intended to make his departure, but had yielded to the solicitations of several persons to make another appearance:
As is his custom, he spoke at considerable length in support of the magnetic influence; endeavouring to show that it has a positive existence – that it is a fact in nature – that it is a great and valuable truth, notwithstanding that some persons are still to be found ready to denounce it as humbug. As a curative agent, and in the hands of medical practitioners, he considered magnetism superior – in many cases – to all other means. Mr Lewis possesses a very good delivery, and in this address his arguments appeared to force themselves upon the attention of his audience, even to conviction.
Several volunteers then came forward. Some had been ‘partially magnetised’ before, but showed on this occasion no influence. Some were, however, powerfully influenced. A Mr Cripps attempted to throw off the influence, and perspired heavily, and tears fell from his eyes. Eventually Cripps went into convulsions, until relieved by Lewis removing the ‘original impression’.
Lewis explained his partial failures to the presence of ‘imperfectly magnetised’ persons sitting in the audience, thus dividing his influence. He tried a new tactic. The platform was cleared of all except himself, drew both men and women towards himself, who were ‘unable to resist the force of the human magnet.’ Apparently this provided considerable amusement. We are then told:
Mr Lewis concluded his séance by giving a phrenological judgment on the head of a youth, which, according to the testimony of the boy’s father, agreed in every particular with the observed habits of the said youth.
A further account is in the 21 February issue. Lewis gave a lecture on the Tuesday evening on phrenology and on mesmerism and clairvoyance on the Wednesday.
The description of the phrenology talk suggests that much was about psychology, such as his story of a broken teapot. A child confesses to being the culprit to his mother on being promised some sugar. Instead of the sugar, he or she is beaten. The next day something else is broken, and understandably the child says he or she had not broken it. This action would lead the child into a course of lying and deceit. He himself would never beat a child, and it was the purpose of phrenologists to point out fit occupations for people. He stated that he had lived much in the American south, and among negroes, and that ‘he could bear testimony to many good qualities possessed by the untutored Negro of which the white man had but little knowledge.’
The Wednesday lecture was ‘crowded’, indicating continual interest in his lectures. Besides mesmerism Lewis spoke of clairvoyance, which he believed in, but could not explain. He ‘operated’ on several females. One he attempted to make clairvoyant, causing her to state correctly where a man was, what he was doing, and how he was dressed. Correct answers were given to these questions. Exertions had to be made to ‘demagnetise’ her, and the same was the case with two other females, who had to go back to the room two or three times ‘to be relieved of the influence.’ The reporter regarded this as strong proof that all this was genuine. The men were never referred to as males, by the way.
Lewis appears to have performed on about six occasions at St Leonards, with all apparently popular. One was for the benefit of the St Leonards Mechanics’ Institution. Less popular was a talk at the George Street Assembly Room, Hastings that was reported on in the 28 March issue.
Some gentlemen had asked that he give a talk on American slavery, and he had suggested that it should be free, ‘but in this he was overruled.’ When only 25 persons turned up he declined to give his talk and said he would return the entrance money, and present them with a ticket for the next evening’s lecture. Nevertheless he asked them to draw together and said he would speak briefly on the subject, and would give the lecture on another occasion. The following is taken from a longer narration.
He stated that he was not an American, nor an escaped slave, but had dwelt in the Southern states, had been amongst slavery, and had witnessed the evil in all its harrowing details. He had read Harriet Beecher Stowe’s work [Uncle Tom’s cabin, published in 1852], which he said only depicted a tithe of the miseries entailed by slavery. He claimed to be of English, African and Indian descent, and it was his English ‘portion’ that made him angry about slavery. British cotton factories relied on the cotton picked by slave labour, and they should get the cotton from India instead. He believed that slavery would be abolished, but not peacefully, with a revolt being inevitable. Despite his claim that he was not giving the lecture he spoke for an hour.
He had a much larger audience the following night for his performance of mesmerism and phrenology.
Henry Edward Lewis was thrown from his horse at Blackheath and died at Brunswick Place, Charlton, Kent, on the 10 July 1857. He was 39 years old.

