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A Singular Look At An Explorer's Double Life

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By ROGER K. MILLER

The Tampa Tribune

Published: March 22, 2009

"Passing Strange: A Gilded Age Tale of Love and Deception Across the Color Line," by Martha A. Sandweiss (Penguin Press, $27.95)

Clarence King, born in Newport, R.I., in 1842, was a western explorer, a geologist of wide renown, a tremendous wit and an accomplished writer who moved in the highest societies of his day. Secretary of State John Hay and historian Henry Adams were among his closest friends; Hay called King "the best and brightest man of his generation."

But "bachelor" King lived a double life as the husband of a black woman. His wife, Ada, was probably born into slavery, most likely in 1860, somewhere near West Point, Ga. Somehow she migrated to New York City, possibly in 1884, where she might have gotten work as a domestic.

Much about their lives remains unknown and unknowable, mostly because of King's herculean efforts at secrecy. But in part it is due to Ada's humble origins. No stories or records of her early years survive.

Martha A. Sandweiss' effort is well done and well worth it, and not simply because the story is compelling in itself. King, though no longer a high-profile historical figure, nevertheless has been the subject of several biographies and all of them have ignored or stinted on this central aspect of his life. Sandweiss, a professor of history at Amherst College and author of other histories, has brought a lot to light through diligent digging.

Why did King, a fair-haired, blue-eyed man do it - pass as a black Pullman porter named James Todd - all the while keeping his original privileged position? The simple answer is: for love. He and Ada were together 13 years, from their common-law marriage in 1888 until his death, and had five children. His remaining letters indicate deep love and devotion.

Beyond that, King did it because he "professed a lifelong fascination with dark-complected peoples." His obsession went further still, to the very issue of gender. King seems to have perceived woman as the biological original.

Moreover, King saw race as not fixed, but fluid and mutable, letting him envision a world in which race did not matter. "Miscegenation," he told a friend, "is the hope of the white race."

Suffering from tuberculosis, King died at age 59 in 1901 in Arizona, where he had gone in an attempt to salvage his health. From his deathbed he wrote Ada telling her his real name and little else other than that he had provided for her financially.

Which he had, after a fashion. The final quarter of "Passing Strange" is as fascinating as the preceding three-quarters, being both a search into the mysterious source of Ada's income and a meditation on the fluidity of racial boundaries. Ada never remarried; she died at age 103 in 1964, having outlived her husband by more than 62 years.

Roger K. Miller, author of "Invisible Hero," is a freelance writer, editor and reviewer.

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