Figure 1
For almost three quarters of a century seventeen bells from the Danilov Monastery in Moscow have hung in the tower of Lowell House at Harvard. The story of the bells and how they made their way to Harvard is a tale that weaves through three continents, four national capitols, and numerous troves of documents. Following the trail is made needlessly difficult because snippets of information lacking a pedigree circulate as fact merely because of iteration. On stage are Charles Richard Crane, a man of affairs, Thomas Whittemore, archeologist and historian, and A. Lawrence Lowell, an educator, scion of an ancient Boston Brahmin family, who was blessed with determination turning at times to stubbornness, and the intellect, as well as the strength of character needed to dominate and lead Harvard University.
Only in a fable would the lives of three such different men intersect. That story would then go on to tell that they had made common cause to hang Russian monastery bells in the tower of Lowell House. In real life each was a busy professional, and the episode of the bells a mere staccato event and hardly remarked. But the bells are prominent in the history of Lowell House. They help form the image and even the character of the House, and accordingly a search into their origin seems justified. Till now, we have had only a casual chronicle which records that Charles Crane purchased the bells of the Danilov Monastery in Moscow, used Thomas Whittemore as his agent in that transaction, and then gave the bells to Harvard. That tale while true, fails in its simplicity to acknowledge a story considerably more complex and skirts the key question of how this all came to pass. A more complete story probably begins in 1916 in Boston where funds were being sought to help desperate refugees, victims of a Russian army retreating eastward across Galicia, and it ends fifteen years later on Holyoke Street in Cambridge where the masterpiece of architect Charles Allerton Coolidge is under construction. By reviewing the careers of Crane and of Whittemore we could hope to learn the reason these men sought the bells, and by searching archives we expect to find out why the bells came to Harvard.
Charles Crane, industrialist, humanitarian and diplomat, was, at the turn of the century, a respected political figure in the United States. By 1904, he had established himself as a widely traveled and knowledgeable specialist in Middle Eastern and Russian affairs. President Taft hoped to appoint him his minister to China (1909) but the Chairman of the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations disagreed. As early as 1900, Crane had become involved in urban and national politics. He was, in 1912, the largest single supporter of the Wilson campaign for the presidency. Early in his second term (April 2, 1917) Wilson had severed relations with Germany but not yet declared war, and hoped that the Russian Provisional Government under Kerensky, would maintain the Eastern front and give the United States time to arm. For that purpose he formed in May of that year the Special Diplomatic Mission to Russia headed by Elihu Root and asked Crane, who was already in Petrograd (St. Petersburg), to serve on the Committee. By August, it was clear that the mission was futile and accordingly the Committee was dissolved.
At Versailles Crane was at the side of President Wilson and following the Peace Conference, Crane served on the “Inter-Allied Commission on Mandates in Turkey,” a committee charged with deciding the fate of Palestine. Early in 1920, Wilson appointed Crane the US minister to China. With the election of Harding the following year, Crane resigned his post and in 1921 began his trek home from Peping (Beijing) across Asia to Paris. Traveling in two railroad cars he had purchased and furnished, he was accompanied by his son John and Donald M. Brodie, who later became his office manager in New York. Their route across Manchuria passed through Harbin where he chanced to meet up with his friend Thomas Whittemore who was assisting a population of Russian refugees. From Harbin, Crane headed toward Moscow. In his trip diary Crane commentated on the mysterious and compelling sounds of Russian bells that he heard as he entered the Russian city of Rostov. This memory stayed with him for the rest of his life. Crane visited Russia many times, the first when he was just 19 years of age, and he had a profound feeling for Russian culture, Russian bells, and the Russian Orthodox Church. He maintained friendships in Russia even after the fall of the Tsarist government and when possible, sent funds to friends surreptitiously, frequently through the agency of Thomas Whittemore.
Thomas Whittemore, Tufts College ’94 and Harvard Graduate School,’98 was a peripatetic archeologist, and a student of Byzantine art. A friend of his had written: “Whittemore is never in a place; he was, he will be, he comes from and is going to but never will be here.” A professor of history at Tufts University, he also taught at Columbia University and at New York University. By some reports he was a man of independent though modest means and was certainly a member of that brotherhood of adventurous archeologists that peopled the first quarter of the 20th century. He seemed to acquire access wherever he moved and attracted the friendship of the wealthy as well as of statesmen, artists and writers. On the other hand his reputation as a scholar was indifferent, an assessment believed by his admirers to be in large measure a reflection of his reclusive tendency, and to those less friendly he had an air of worldliness and even superficiality in his work. During the first weeks of World War I he found himself in France apparently near the front lines and was able to bring succor to French families stranded by the war. It is reported that in the French port cities of Calais and Boulogne he came upon wounded soldiers waiting for transport across the Channel. They were cold and hungry and Whittemore managed to bring them “tea and biscuits.” In 1915 he was in Galicia, a section of Eastern Europe with indeterminate boundaries, covering parts of Poland as well as the Ukraine, Hungary and Austria. Battles had seared the countryside and a retreating Russian army commanded by Archduke Nicholas practiced a scorched earth campaign, leaving little food or shelter for the indigenous population. Whittemore was there with the hope of alleviating suffering. He cabled to America to raise money and in 1916 returned to America and solicited funds on the lecture circuit where he spoke to the desperate plight of the refugees in Galicia.
Having been successful in gaining resources, he headed back to Europe through Russia. Although the allies had placed an embargo on all goods destined for Russia, Whittemore was able to enter via Japan and then Siberia. With him he had “60 cases of provisions and thousands of dollars.” He arrived in Petrograd two days before the Russian revolution broke out on March 14, 1917, and witnessed the carnage of these first days. On March 17 he wrote to Crane with details of what he had seen.
In the fall of 1921, he was in Harbin, and then an exit city for terrified White Russian refugees, who, fearing for their lives, fled Soviet Russia. Bereft of clothing, money and food, they congregated in Harbin hoping to reach a safe harbor. As recorded in Crane’s memoirs, Whittemore was there and had found a way to help. He commandeered a railroad car, filled it with milk and chocolate, which he then proceeded to distribute to hungry children. In 1921, with support from Crane, Whittemore had founded “The Committee for the Education of Russian Youth in Exile in Europe,” a program to assist White Russian émigrés. The Committee survived until 1930. In that year (1930), he founded the Byzantine Institute with offices in Boston, Istanbul and Paris with funds from Crane, as well as from a carefully chosen group of wealthy Americans. Among this group was Seth Gano, (Harvard ’08) a Boston based businessman, who managed Whittemore’s affairs during his many trips abroad. In 1930, Gano assumed the role of intermediary between Whittemore and Harvard during the process of securing the bells and he was to be, along with Boris Ermoloff, a Russian expatriate, an executor of Whittemore’s estate. Ermolov in later years became the librarian of the Byzantine Institute in Paris.
In between his many acts of mercy, Whittemore participated in archeological digs in Egypt, the Balkans and the Near East. The year 1931 witnessed his crowning achievement. He gained permission from Mustafa Kemal Attaturk, the Turkish dictator, to close the Great Church, (Hagia Sophia) and the Chora Monastery in Constantinople and let him work in them. There he uncovered and consolidated mosaics dating from the 6th century when Justinian built the great church. They were obscured and covered with plaster and lime. A friend to Harvard, he donated his priceless assembly of Byzantine coins and medals to the Fogg Museum, a gift Harvard acknowledged by making him a non-salaried curator of the collection. Whittemore’s professional commitment was to the art of Byzantium but his emotional allegiance was to Russian culture, the Orthodox Church and Russian intellectuals trapped in the Soviet state. From their first meeting till the death of Crane in 1939, Whittemore apparently enjoyed the romantic nature of the clandestine help these two men gave to Russian nationals. Crane had the cash and Whittemore the daring do.
It is unclear from the available documents when Crane and Whittemore met for the first time. Certainly it was before March 1917, when Whittemore in Petrograd wrote a rather formal letter to Crane describing events he had witnessed at the beginning of the Russian revolution. He addressed Crane as “Mr. Crane” whereas in later letters his salutation is more informal and he uses terms of affection. It is most likely that they met in Boston at some time during 1916, when Whittemore had returned to America to raise money for refugees in Galicia.
What Crane, Whittemore and Lowell had in common were bells. Crane and Whittemore, steeped in Russian culture and religion, were anxious to preserve both, and Russian bells, religious and cultural icons, were surely appropriate candidates. Though hardly interested in preserving Tsarist artifacts, President Lowell, as reported in Time magazine in 1931, had a deep interest in bells and bell casting and was familiar with the literature on campanology, a knowledge that did not, however, include Russian bells. He is said to have had among his books the primer “De Tintinnabulis” by the 16th century Bell-Master, Hieronymus Magius.
The story of the bells of the Danilov Monastery picks up in 1927. In February, Whittemore had written to Crane, “I am secretly trying to go to Russia” and in May Whittemore, now in Paris, sends a cable to Crane in New York: “Just arrived from Athos, find waiting for me extraordinary opportunity [Stop] go Russia [Stop] advantageous denouement of our work [Stop] could Friendship Fund make it possible for me to go [Stop] please reply Bankers Trust Paris.” (Figure 1) The Friendship Fund seems to have been a resource established by Crane from which cash could be withdrawn to support a number of ventures. These frequently involved Whittemore. Crane had supported a monastery at Mt. Athos and for two years during the Great War assured that the monks had food.
Figure 1
We don’t know whether Whittemore got to Russia in the summer of 1927 but on June 26, 1928, a year later, matters seemed to have firmed up, for Whittemore sends another cable from Paris to Crane saying: “Go Russia July first to get bells.” (Figure 2) And then, two days later, he asks for “one thousand [dollars] for bells,” “credit Barings London.” (Figure 3) Which bells? Did Crane know before Whittemore set off for Russia that the bells of the Danilov Monastery were available? It is logical to speculate that the “extraordinary opportunity” referred to in the 1927 cable was the availability of the Danilov bells and furthermore a fair conjecture that Crane and Whittemore had discussed “the bells” when Whittemore was a guest in the Crane home during the winter of 1928. On February 28, 1928 Crane had written to his son, John, “Hope Whittemore can get into Russia.” He was doubtful because of Whittemore’s continued, overt as well as clandestine support for the White Russians both inside and outside of Russia.
Figure 2
Figure 3
Probably Whittemore did get to Moscow the summer of 1928. The evidence is indirect though tantalizing. In early July, on his own account at Barings Bank London he made a substantial draft to Thomas Cook, a travel agent in Paris. In late July, Barings Bank sent a cable to him in Berlin where one might guess that he was enroute to Russia. The archivist of Barings Bank recently offered the following opinion: “It was in fact unlikely that Whittemore [in 1928] would have paid [for the bells] with a check or bankers draft in Russia since it would not have been [at that time] accepted by a Russian bank . . . the transaction would have been in some other currency [neither dollars nor pounds] for example gold.” Did Whittemore or Crane have access to gold?
There is no record I can find that either Crane or Whittemore ever asked President Lowell, or anyone else, whether Harvard would accept “the bells.” It comes as a surprise, therefore, that at some time in December 1929, Harvard has knowledge of the gift, either accepted or proposed. President Lowell seeks advice about “Russian bells” through A. T. Davison, of the Harvard Department of Music. This generated several responses, for example from Serge Koussevitsky among others. (Figure 4)
Figure 4
Late in December (1929) the architect orders the contractor now building Lowell House to stop construction on the clock tower. Nevertheless the architect’s plans of early January continue to show a clock tower. On January 22, new building plans emerge and now show the steel girders to be placed in what has been reconfigured as a bell tower, “the bell deck to support a load of about 35 tons.” There is an undated slip of paper among the Lowell papers in the Harvard Archives with a cryptic message, perhaps written by Lowell’s secretary, “Mr. Whittemore’s message – 67, 727 pounds – He will be in Boston Thursday, and again the 26th and the 27th.” In Lowell’s distinctive cursive there is noted a single word at the top of the page, “Carillon.” The number on the document in pounds is 33.8 tons, obviously the aggregate weight of the bells. At the end of January 1930, Whittemore is given an architectural drawing of the space available in the proposed bell tower and he takes off to Russia in order to measure the bells and determine whether they will fit in the tower. He tells Crane by letter (January 30, 1930) that “if the bells will not fit in the tower, Harvard has agreed to provide another tower,” a promise of doubtful validity, but probably a necessary reassurance since in all probability Crane now owns the bells.
By late February 1930 President Lowell knows that the zvon (the Russian term for an aggregate of church bells) will entail 18 bells. But only in June 1930, five months later, Whittemore, now in Moscow, sends a letter to Gano in Boston for forwarding to President Lowell, saying, “I have bought the bells.” Are these the same bells he identified in his cable to Crane in June 1928? Did Lowell redesign the tower before the bells had been bought? Did Crane buy the bells before he had a place to hang them?
In June or July 1930, Whittemore now in Moscow hires a Russian architect to design machinery for lowering the bells from the campanile. At the request of Crane, Whittemore engages Konstantin Konstantinovitch Saradjev, a well known campanologist (not a monk as several histories of the bells incorrectly maintain) who is to certify that the bells are intact after their descent to the ground, and if they are, to accompany the bells to America. Saradjev gets an exit permit from Russia, which is contingent upon obtaining an entry visa from the United States. This presents a significant stumbling block since in 1930 there is no American Embassy in Russia. This restriction frustrates Whittemore as well as Lowell. Whittemore (August 6) suggests that in order to obtain a visa for Saradjev he be admitted to Harvard as a “music student” but Francis Hunnewell, Secretary to the Harvard Corporation, being privy to this correspondence, advises against such action. He points out “it might get us into difficulties with the immigration authorities and imperil the admission of other foreign students.” He is particularly concerned because Saradjev would be entering the United States as a Russian national.
Lowell seeks intervention by the Assistant Secretary of State, William Castle, at one time Lowell’s Dean of Students at Harvard, and whom Lowell addresses as merely “Dear Castle.” By letter, Lowell asks Castle to help get Saradjev into the United States and to request that the German embassy in Moscow issue a transit visa. Lowell, obviously wishing to let Gano know that he (Lowell) is on top of matters, sends to him a copy of the letter to Castle with an attached memorandum. Castle is indignant, scolds Lowell, and says that the Department of State never instructs foreign embassies. Although Lowell has initialed the memorandum forwarding the letter to Gano he nevertheless assures Castle that the letter was sent from his office without his knowledge, as he was out of town. Crane now learning of the problem with visas intervenes and dispatches his office manager, Brodie, to press this cause at the State Department in Washington. Brodie returns to New York empty handed. Having failed to generate any action by Castle, Lowell in the meanwhile is forced to deal with Whittemore in Moscow through Seth Gano. Finally, three weeks into August, and the bells presumably in transit, Lowell, impatient, cables directly to the German Embassy in Moscow and the American Consulate in Hamburg (Figure 5), and thereby Saradjev obtains a transit visa through Germany and an entry visa to America but too late for him to accompany the bells on their voyage to the United States.
Figure 5
Figure 6
Whittemore has also engaged the services of “Epstein,” an antiquarian at 26 Tevestia St., Moscow, to ship the bells, which leave Moscow overland to Leningrad and then Hamburg for an ocean trip at some time after the 20th of July 1930. (Figure 6) The port of entry is uncertain, either New York or Boston. Meanwhile, Crane writes to Harvard that he will pay any duty at the port. Notwithstanding, as early as February 1930, six months earlier, Lowell begins to seek duty free entry into the United States. He variously claims that there are 33 bells in the zvon, the number required to escape duty, or antique bells since “all Russian bells are antique” (antiques also escape duty). In addition, he has also been busy trying to arrange intervention through his senator (Frederick H. Gillett) and congressman (Frederick W. Dallinger) to permit the bells to enter the United States duty-free. Dallinger promises to help by inserting an appropriate clause in pending tariff legislation. This he proves unable to accomplish. Although only some of the bells qualify as “antique,” Harvard certainly paid no duty, but whether or not duty was exacted I have been unable to determine.
In the fall of 1930, students are now living in Lowell House, and the tower is incomplete, awaiting the arrival of the bells. The first shipment of 12 bells arrives at Lowell House on October 12, with the remaining six arriving shortly thereafter. To mark the occasion, a news release from Harvard Information Office reads as follows: “A carillon of twenty three bells purchased, for Harvard College, and intended to hang in the tower of Lowell House, reached Cambridge this morning. They are a set of Russian bells of bronze, 25 tons in weight. It is hoped that they may be put in place about February 20th.” What happened to five bells? Were they lost in transit? Probably, simply an error made by the Information Office. Saradjev now in residence, is supposed to instruct the contractor on the method of hanging Russian bells, which are stationary; and are tolled, by swinging the clapper. Who pays for Saradjev’s travel?
The architect appears to have obtained his first comprehensive information on the dimensions and weight of each bell only after the bells arrived at Lowell House. The first architectural drawing is dated October 22, 1930. On this plan there are two lists. One labeled, “Our List” comprising 18 bells and a second list labeled “Bellringer’s List” comprising 34 bells (the number could also be 32 or 33 depending on how the notation is interpreted), 18 of which are also on “Our List.” Only 18 bells arrived, 17 placed in the Lowell House tower and the 18th sent to the business school. The fact that the drawing contains two lists invites speculation. The “Bellringer” is of course Saradjev. He arrived later than the bells, perhaps around October 22. His list represents the number of bells in the bell tower at the Monastery, 18 of which were “sold” to Whittemore, and are on “Our List.” In January 1930, when Whittemore received the revised architectural plan for the bell tower, he wrote to Crane saying he was taking it to Russia to measure the bells and determine whether they would fit in the space allotted by the architects. There probably were 34 bells in the Monastery tower and Whittemore chose a selection of 18 that would fit in the Lowell House bell tower. And that is the number shipped to Cambridge. This would also explain why President Lowell in early February thought his zvon would consist of 32 bells.. Four months after arrival at Cambridge and $250,000 later the bells are hung and tolled for the first time on February 22, 1931.
I can find no record that Harvard was ever formally or informally offered a gift of the bells or accepted the bells. Yet President Lowell certainly expected to get the zvon as early as December 1929 even if at that time he knew neither how many bells were coming or the foundering dates. There seems to be no record at Harvard or in the Crane archives of the transaction by which Whittemore acquired the bells. Did money change hands? If so, who got it? Was the transaction a proper government arrangement or was there someone with dirty hands? There seems no reason to hide the transaction since certainly by 1929 and perhaps a year or two earlier, the Soviet government formally “approved that the most reasonable resolution for liquidation of unique bells is to export them abroad and sell them.” Obviously it would have been impossible to take down the bells without government consent. In a recent interview Blochin Alexander Nikolaevich, currently Executive Manager of the Monastery said that the Monastery has no record of a transaction involving the bells. Considering the circumstances in Russia at the time, it would have been surprising if the Monastery had been involved in what we can assume was a government approved transaction. It has not been possible to learn whether Whittemore ever got $1000 from Crane. It is reasonable to assume, however, that Whittemore bought the bells from the government. How much he paid and in what currency remains unknown.
Harvard maintains an inventory of all property, and although the list is considered to be both extensive and comprehensive, it makes no mention of Russian bells. Since the bells don’t “exist” the Office of the General Counsel can have no document attesting to ownership. A memorandum from the General Counsel of Harvard dated July 29, 1985 states “It was practice during this time [1929] for the Corporation to accept gifts and provide commentary when there were unusual conditions or uses attached.” The minutes of the Corporation 1927-1931 list innumerable gifts both large and small, and though a gift of 18 Russian bells would certainly qualify as unusual, there is no mention of such a gift. The Annual Report of the President often listed gifts. There is no record of a gift of Russian bells in the reports of 1928-31 nor is there such a record in the minutes of the meetings of the Overseers.
Were there two sets of bells, one bought in 1928 and one in 1930? This seems highly unlikely for among the Crane typescript papers is a handwritten note to the effect that “Crane gave Russian bells to Harvard in 1931” and there is no reference in his papers to any other gift of bells. This note appears to have been written by an executor of the estate since Crane had all of his memories typed before he died. There is no record in the archives of Barings Bank, London of an account in Crane’s name or that of the Committee for the Education of Russian Youth in Exile. Nor is there a record in the bank of any transaction by which Whittemore got $1000 in June-July, 1928. Notwithstanding, is it possible that Whittemore somehow acquired the bells in June 1928 at the time he asked Crane for the $1000, and then allowed them to remain in the campanile until July 1930. This would have been a risky decision in 1928 because of the precarious state of church and monastery property. If Crane owned the bells in July 1928, and being a prudent man, he would probably have tried to get the bells out of Russia promptly.
Figure 7
A note on Russian bells. By the decree of June 30, 1918 ringing of bells was prohibited and considered counterrevolutionary probably because of their religious symbolism, and “revolutionary tribunals” tried guilty parties. Four years later removal of bells from isolated churches and monasteries had begun and some were melted for “industrial purposes.” In 1929 the Soviet encouraged selling church bells to foreigners to raise cash. At that time it was estimated that the weight of all the bells in the USSR was 2 million tons. Only in 1929 did bell melting begin on a large scale, and in the year 1934 a total of 190,000 tons was melted. One can assume that the bells of the Danilov Monastery were at risk, but there is no reason to believe that they were immediately threatened. What Whittemore learned in 1927 was in all probability the knowledge that Russian bells from churches and monasteries could be bought. Being a man of taste and discretion, he chose to acquire an important zvon, bells belonging to a monastery with tremendous cultural importance and religious significance. It has been asserted, incorrectly, that Crane was in Russia in 1928, saw the Danilov bells on the ground and took steps to rescue them. That legend has no basis in fact.
Another note, this one on the mosaics of Hagia Sophia. How did Whittemore know where in the church to look for the lost mosaics? It appears that he learned of the work of the Fossati brothers, architects and engineers, from Bellinzona in the Swiss Ticine. Hired in 1847 by Sultan Abdul Medjid to clean and restore Hagia Sophia, they came upon the first mosaic by chance while cleaning plaster from a wall. The Sultan, dazzled by the golden cubes in the mosaic, ordered removal of plaster from all the ancient mosaics. When cleaning was complete, the Sultan realized that the human figures in all the mosaics conflicted with Muslim customs, and ordered that the mosaics again be covered with plaster. Before complying, Fossati made drawings and watercolors of the mosaics. Some of these paintings were published as lithographs in London in 1852 and the originals remained in the Fossati archives in the Bellinzona archives. Whittemore probably visited the Ballinzana archives and obtained enough information to formulate a successful work plan. What he found in Istanbul was mosaics covered with plaster and lime, and what he left was the Justinian mosaics largely in their original splendor.
Why did Crane give the bells to Harvard? He was not a Harvard graduate. (Crane did get an honorary degree from Harvard in 1921). Among the Lowell letters, there is no correspondence with Crane until after the bells were in Cambridge. Four months before Whittemore writes, “I have bought the bells” and on April 30, 1930, while Lowell House was being built, Crane, in the company of President Lowell, looked approvingly at the site where the bells would be hung. In the Crane archives there is no correspondence relating to the bells of the Danilov Monastery until April 1930.
On January 15, 1929 Julian Lowell Coolidge was appointed Master of a House later called Lowell House. Between that day and the date when students first occupied the House, Coolidge participated in all aspects of building the House and there are innumerable items of correspondence between him and President Lowell and between him and the architect, yet among all those documents I have been unable to find any referring to the bells with Coolidge’s name on it. Why was Lowell so secretive?
In favor of the purchase in June 1928 rather than June 1930, is the fact that in January 1930, Harvard altered the plans for the Lowell house tower to accommodate the bells. This is five months before the Whittemore letter to Gano in June 1930 saying, “I have bought the bells.” The text of that letter could be misleading for it did not say, “I have ‘just’ bought the bells.” If bought in June 1928, Crane could not have obtained the bells with the intention of placing them in Lowell House since the money for the Houses came only five months later, after the first meeting between President Lowell and Harkness on October 24, 1928. There were neither Houses nor plans for houses in June 1928. Which meant that Crane had to peddle the bells after he bought them. Under these circumstances, why is there no correspondence about the bells as he sought a place to hang them outside Russia? He was not the sort of man to get on the phone and call friends. He wrote letters.
Though we learn much about the bells, in the end we are defeated. The secret of the bells remains intact. We know neither the transaction by which the bells were acquired or how they came to reside in a bell tower in Cambridge.
When Whittemore died in 1950, by his will, he left correspondence to the Byzantine Institute in Paris, the organization he had established in 1930. His letters apparently were moved several times and ended up in the Byzantine Bibliothèque (part of the Bibliothèque Nationale) in Paris, where Ermolov, the surviving executor of the will, worked until his death in 1985. Scrutiny of these letters should have helped unscramble this riddle. A recent search for them has proven futile. They have simply disappeared. His diaries went to Dumbarton Oaks in Washington, now a part of Harvard University by virtue of a gift, but they contain only professional materials, no letters.
An Internet search identified a grandson of Seth Gano living in the Gano summer home in Maine. He informed me that he had an extensive correspondence between Gano and Whittemore, which he would share. For reasons as yet unexplained, further correspondence was not possible.
P.S. A manuscript in Russian without a date or author begins in translation as follows: “In 1930, two Americans turned up at the door step of Konstantin Solomonovich with an offer for his son, Mr. Saradjev, to travel to the United States. They promised to purchase bells in the Soviet Union and then transport them to America where a bell tower was being constructed at Harvard.” Could the two men have been Crane and Whittemore? Attractive as that idea seems, it is manifestly untrue since we know during the period 1927-1930 Whittemore was communicating with Crane in New York by cable. In this same document, the American visa for Saradjev is reported to have read as follows: “Citizen of a country which is not recognized by the United States of America is hereby permitted to temporarily enter the country for a period of 12 months in the capacity of a bell expert.” The remainder of the text makes little sense to me, but seems to be an excerpt from a biography of Saradjev. This manuscript was mailed to me as an attachment to e-mail by my correspondent in Moscow. I have been unable to reestablish contact with him.
Cambridge, MA
January 8, 2004
Charles U. Lowe ’42
CharlesULowe@aol.com
Sources
Harvard University Archives
Harvard University Information Office
Fogg Museum
Harvard Office of Planning and Real Estate
Lowell House Scrap Books and “Bell Ringers’” archives
Office of General Counsel, Harvard University
Charles Richard Crane Papers, Bakhmeteff Archive of Russian and East European History and Culture, Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Columbia University, New York
Shepley, Bullfinch, Architects, Boston
Boston Public Library
Harvard Crimson Archives
Margaret Picher, Biographer of Charles Crane, Boulder CO
Vladimir Korzh, Member “Eurocarilon,” Moscow
Moira Lovegrove, Archivist staff, INGBarings, London
Catherine Piganiol, Conservateur-en-Chef, Bibliothèque Byzantine (Fond Thomas Whittemore), Paris
Tufts University Archives
National Archives, Washington DC, Boston Harbor & New York Harbor
John Burnett, Executive Manager, Blagovest Russian Church Bells
Rockefeller Archives Center, Pocantino Hills, NY, Thomas Rosenbaum
Georgetown University
Dumbarton Oaks, Washington DC
Time Magazine, March 9, 1931
The Lowell House Belles of Charles Crane, Wm. J. Carter, Yankeetown, FL
Naissance d’une vocation: aux sources de la carrière byzantine de Thomas Whittemore; Remi Labrusse & Nadia Podzemskaia, Dumbarton Oaks Papers. Number fifty-four, 2000.
William L. MacDonald, Historian, Byzantine art; Biographer of Thomas Whittemore
Mosaics of Hagia Sophia, Istanbul, Natalia B. Terteriatnikov
Dumbarton Oaks Research Library Collection,1998
Illustrations:
Figures 1, 2, 3, & 6
From the Charles Richard Crane Papers, Bakhmeteff Archive of Russian and East European History and Culture, Rare Book & Manuscript Library, Columbia University, New York, NY.
Figures 4, 5, & 7
From the Harvard University Archives, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA.