She stood over seven feet tall, bent iron bars with her bare hands, and carried grown adults on her shoulders — and most people today have never heard her name. MME Abomah, known to the world as the African Giantess, was one of the most remarkable performers of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Her real name was Ella Grigsby, and her life was shaped by forces far bigger than any stage she ever stood on.
Ella was born in October 1865, just months after the 13th Amendment abolished slavery in the United States. She narrowly escaped being born into bondage by the slimmest margin of history. Growing up in the years following the Civil War, she came of age in a country still deeply divided by race. As a teenager, she went to work for a couple named Elihu and Harriet Williams. She took their surname as her own — a name she would carry for the rest of her life as Ella Williams.
Her path into show business came through a man named Frank Bostock. Bostock was a British showman who built his career around exotic displays — unusual animals, unusual people, and the spectacle that came with both. When he encountered Ella Williams, he recognized something he could market to the world. She was extraordinarily tall, powerfully built, and possessed a commanding physical presence that audiences would pay to see.
Bostock made a calculated decision: Ella would not tour the United States. Another giantess performer named Ella Ewing was already well established there, and the American market was crowded. Europe, however, was wide open. Racism was less of a professional barrier in Europe than in the United States at the time, and Bostock knew that foreign audiences would be drawn to an act centered on an imposing Black woman from America. He signed Ella up for a tour of the British Isles, gave her the stage name MME Abomah, and billed her as the African Giantess.
Her act leaned heavily into her physical power. She lifted heavy weights, bent iron bars, and hoisted people onto her shoulders as the crowd looked on in disbelief. Her African heritage was placed at the center of her billing, framing her size and strength as something exotic and foreign — a framing that reflected the racial attitudes of the era. Promotional materials listed her as over seven feet tall and more than 300 pounds, figures that were almost certainly inflated for dramatic effect, as was common in the world of Victorian-era spectacle.
Audiences across Europe were fascinated. Ella performed in France, Germany, Belgium, and numerous other countries, drawing large crowds wherever she appeared. Her fame reached the highest levels of European society. She performed before King Leopold II of Belgium and Queen Victoria of England — two of the most powerful monarchs of the age. For a Black woman born just after the end of American slavery, commanding the attention of European royalty was a remarkable achievement.
Behind the spectacle, however, Ella’s personal life was defined by loss. She had two children, and both died in infancy. She also battled serious health problems throughout her career, including rheumatism and heart disease — conditions that would have been made worse by the physical demands of her performances and years of constant travel.
Her professional relationship with Frank Bostock deteriorated over time. Bostock had a well-known reputation for taking advantage of the performers under his management, and Ella was not spared. The details of his exploitation of her are not fully documented, but the situation became serious enough that Ella took legal action. She sued Bostock for breach of contract and won her case — a striking outcome for a Black woman navigating a legal system that rarely ruled in favor of people like her. The victory, though significant, left her bitter about the years she had worked under his control.
As the early 20th century progressed, public tastes shifted and Ella’s performing career slowed. The giant spectacles of the Victorian era began to feel outdated, and the audiences that had once packed venues to see her gradually moved on to newer entertainments. Ella retired from the stage and spent her later years away from the public eye.
She surfaced briefly in 1929 when a newspaper article brought her story back into public view. By then she was in her sixties, a long way from the stages of Europe and the roaring crowds that had once greeted her. She died in 1932 at the age of 67.
MME Abomah existed at a crossroads of race, gender, and spectacle in an era that had few good options for a woman in her position. She was marketed as a curiosity, her Blackness and her size used as selling points by promoters who profited from her labor. At the same time, she traveled the world, performed before royalty, took her employer to court, and carved out a career on her own terms whenever she was able to. Her story is one that the history books largely skipped over — but it is one worth knowing.
