Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth (1857):
A Window into Nineteenth-Century Domestic Domains
Mary Manfredi
Citation: Manfredi, Mary. “Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth (1857) : A Window into Nineteenth Century Domestic Domains.” The Coalition of Master’s Scholars on Material Culture, June 11, 2021.
Abstract: Since the late-eighteenth century, artists have replicated and disseminated George Washington's image and likeness to preserve his memory and legacy. The popularization of history painting compelled artists to decorate a canvas with decisive moments in the country's founding years. Emanuel Leutze (1816-1868) is one such artist who won praise for his monumental Washington Crossing the Delaware in 1851. Two years later, Leutze created a companion piece, Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth (1853). This work shows an unfavorable side of Washington, a commander scrambling to catch his retreating troops. While the public and scholars often focus on Leutze’s more famous image of Washington, the companion piece offers a deviation from sacrosanct portrayals of the first president.
This article examines how David Leavitt commissioned Leutze to recreate this piece in 1857 for his daughter, Elizabeth Leavitt Howe. It argues that the shift in tonality speaks to its change in display, from a monumental canvas intended for a gallery, to the veneration of Washington's image as a form of emulation and active remembrance in a domestic domain. The gifting of the 1857 painting informs the cult of domesticity and code of household governance ever-present in American culture. The painting, therefore, becomes a material way to understand the relationship between objects and family members in nineteenth-century America. Through provenance research, visual analysis, and object networks, this piece will illuminate the divergence in Washington's iconography, while also highlighting the changes made for its placement in a nineteenth-century domestic domain.
Keywords: 19th century American history, cult of domesticity, patriarchy, memory, veneration, history painting
An animated painting of George Washington at the Battle of Monmouth hung in Elizabeth Leavitt Howe's home in the late 1800s. Washington's face graced the walls of many nineteenth-century American domestic domains. When one takes a closer look at Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth (1857), a mixture of emotions become discernible in the composition (Figure 1).[1] Soldiers cannot mask their utter fear and confusion at the sight of their commander in chief rushing towards them on a brown steed. With one swift motion, Washington uses his left hand to pull the reins of his horse to a startling halt, and thrusts his sword up to the sky with the other. The horse neighs, and lifts its front legs off the ground, which further propels this towering leader high above the crowd of men assembled before him. Amongst all this commotion, the viewer gazes upon a traditional portrayal of Washington, unmoved even in the heat of battle. What appears to be a popular history painting gains more significance when one analyzes its provenance.
Figure 1: Emanuel Gottlieb Leutze. Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth, 1857. Oil on canvas. 52 x 87 in. (132.1 x 221 cm). Monmouth County Historical Association. Gift of the Descendants of David Leavitt, 1937. Object Number 1029.
David Leavitt commissioned Emanuel Leutze to paint this work for his only daughter, Elizabeth Leavitt Howe, in 1857. Just a few years earlier, Leutze crafted a three-times larger version of the same scene for Leavitt's gallery in Great Barrington, Massachusetts (Figure 2).[2] The 1857 replica is seemingly identical to the original, but discrepancies arise in the coloring and in the portrayal of George Washington. Art critics chastised Leutze for his sacrilegious portrayal of an American icon in the 1853 piece. In the middle of battle, Washington's furrowed eyebrows and stern glare speak to the unmistakable anger depicted on his face. Exhibited publicly and on a monumental canvas, the artist did not want viewers to miss his deviation from the classic, stoic portrayal of Washington. When Leavitt commissioned the significantly smaller 1857 piece, he told Leutze that it would be a gift for his daughter in her private home. When the intended audience of the work changed, so too did the creative license of the artist. This shift in tonality in the 1857 piece models its change in display, from a visually pleasing piece of art in a gallery, to the veneration of Washington's image as a form of emulation and active remembrance in a domestic domain. The gifting of the 1857 painting informs to the cult of domesticity and code of household governance ever present in nineteenth-century American culture, exhibited by the relationship between David Leavitt and his daughter Elizabeth.
Figure 2: Emanuel Leutze. Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth, 1853-54, oil on canvas, 156 x 261 inches, University of California, Berkeley Art Museum and Pacific Film Archive, gift of Mrs. Mark Hopkins, 1882.1
Several material objects allow the viewer to trace the artist's creative process that eventually led to Leutze's portrayal of George Washington. In 1850, Julius Roeting painted a portrait of Leutze while he worked on Washington Crossing the Delaware (1851) (Figure 3). In the bottom right-hand corner, Roeting included a bust that Leutze used to capture the image and likeness of George Washington.[3] The bust is a copy of a 1785 life mask cast by the renowned sculptor Jean Antione Houdon in 1785 (Figure 4). Leutze purchased three copies of this life mask, and meticulously studied Washington's facial features.[4] He familiarized himself with the intricate details of the Founding Father's face and tested his mastery with George Washington, Study for Washington Crossing the Delaware (1850). In 1851, Leutze completed an early version of his greatest masterpiece, Washington Crossing the Delaware (1851) (Figure 5).[5] Delaware elevated Leutze's status in the art world while also adding another contribution to the canon of Washington images.
Figure 3 : Julius Amatus Roeting. Emanuel Leutze, 1850. Öl auf Leinwand. 119,5 x 91,5 cm Inv.: B 406.
Figure 4 : 189 George Washington Life Mask ; Life Mask, about 1835-1845. George Washington, attributed to Auguste Lenci. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Plaster. 189. The Daughters of the American Revolution Museum, Washington DC. Gift of Olivia Briggs.
The sheer size of Delaware transports the individual inside of the work. With a massive 149 x 255-inch canvas, it is hard to miss it in a gallery. Delaware commands the attention of anyone within its vicinity and Leutze's realistic portrayal of this historical moment also instills a sense of patriotism and pride.[6] The viewer transcends into the work as a passive observer, seemingly seated in an adjacent boat on the icy waters of the Delaware River. Turning to face the commander, the viewer catches a glimpse of the fearless leader, moving his troops under the cover of darkness. Leutze captures the soldiers in action, guiding their boats across the water. In a scene of commotion, Washington's positioning in the composition offers a sense of stability. His fixed gaze on their destination as well as his unfaltering stance sends a message that Americans persevere through difficult times with strength and determination. Delaware is a blockbuster painting; its immense size and heroic overtones make the piece a spectacle, perfect for an art exhibition. Many flocked to see Delaware because of its reputation which circulated around its enormous canvas. Leutze's painting of the stoic leader became hailed as a national icon, and received a plethora of positive reviews.[7]
Figure 5: Emanuel Leutze. Washington Crossing the Delaware, 1851. Oil on canvas. 149 x 255 in. (378.5 x 647.7cm). Metropolitan Museum of Art, Gift of John Stewart Kennedy, 1897. 97.34.
In 1852, Leutze submitted an application to Congress to paint a copy of Delaware with a companion piece. At the time of submission, Delaware was on display in the Rotunda of the Capitol. This second painting would portray Washington at the Battle of Monmouth. Congress chose not to award Leutze a commission to paint either of these works in the Capitol.[8] David Leavitt, an aspiring collector, missed the opportunity to purchase Delaware and did not want to lose Monmouth too. In 1853, Leavitt commissioned Leutze to execute Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth. It's plausible to claim that the political climate in Germany influenced Leutze's creative process. At the time, many German supporters of the Revolution of 1848 saw parallels between their own political upheavals and the American Revolution. George Washington in a sense became a triumphant figure for both revolutions. Leutze composed a scene that left many art critics baffled and confused by the artist's interpretation of this historical event.
Monmouth received mixed reviews when exhibited in both the United States and Europe in 1854. Art critics scrutinized virtually every aspect of the painting. The Independent applauded Leutze's technique, and claimed it showcased the artist's mastery more so than Delaware, but the reviewer ultimately grappled with the subject portrayed on the canvas. Why would an artist choose to immortalize a moment that portrays Washington in such a negative light? In the end, The Independent did not object to the creation of this work, but expressed their desire for such an unflattering painting to reside on a smaller canvas.[9] The Albion found it hard to attribute this piece to the "master" Leutze because of its poor aesthetic quality. The reviewer believed that the battlefield landscape and historical actors lacked a sense of historic realism.[10] The New York Times attacked the work for its deviation in the portrayal of Washington, away from his traditional stoic expression, "we Americans so much love."[11] The most damning review comes from The Crayon. This journal condemned Leutze's subject, because this was not a celebratory scene and failed to evoke Washington's heroic nature. An artist should imbue war scenes with dignity and should not choose a moment from a battle in which the commander in chief allegedly swore (“uttered an oath”) and chased after his retreating men.[12]
The 1857 replica of Monmouth does not portray a General who lost his temper. Instead, it illuminates the atypical image and likeness of George Washington which so many Americans recognized in the nineteenth century. The figure in the later-version is a more admirable Washington as opposed to the flustered commander in chief. The 1857 figure resembles the Washington present in Leutze's Delaware, triumphantly leading his troops into battle. In the 1857 replica, Washington does not lock eyes with any man in the clearing. Instead, he looks off into the distance, seemingly outside of the canvas. If we historicize this moment in relation to Washington's gaze, it appears as if he just triumphantly raced into the clearing, before he disciplines Major General Charles Lee in front of their troops. Thus, capturing a Washington Americans are more comfortable gazing at, a fearless leader who keeps his emotions in check and a man who his troops look to for guidance. Leutze replaced the Washington featured in Monmouth (1853) with a figure who challenges the stoic figure in Delaware. The 1857 replica contains a traditional battle scene with a few episodes that allude to the struggles of war.[13] Despite all the commotion in the clearing and in the surrounding areas, Washington maintains his composure. Monmouth (1857) offers a teaching moment, worthy of veneration. Thus, making it a suitable inclusion in a domestic domain.
Figure 6: Detail of Emanuel Leutze, Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth, 1853-54, oil on canvas, 156 x 261 inches, University of California, Berkeley Art Museum and Pacific Film Archive, gift of Mrs. Mark Hopkins, 1882.1
Figure 7: Detail of Emanuel Gottlieb Leutze, Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth, 1857. Oil on canvas. 52 x 87 in. (132.1 x 221 cm). Monmouth County Historical Association. Gift of the Descendants of David Leavitt, 1937. Object Number 1029.
Many private collectors purchased history paintings, because they believed it added distinction to their homes.[14] Imbued with both historical and heroic themes, portraits of George Washington became quintessential household decorations.[15] Both Delaware and Monmouth (1853) are examples of history painting. This genre helps reconstruct a collective historical memory and serve a commemorative purpose. Artists make a historical figure the subject of these works, but infuse their canvases with drama, and aim to impart a sense of heroism and patriotism.[16] Leutze's paintings in this genre came to dominate his oeuvre. His paintings, "created a veritable archive" that helped create recognizable images of American history.[17] He often chose ground-breaking moments as his subject matter. Delaware and Monmouth illustrate scenes in the American Revolutionary War, the early national era of the United States. Many Americans fawned over Delaware and likened viewing the painting to receiving a history lesson about the Battle of Trenton. Delaware memorialized a proud moment in American history in the minds of its viewers.[18]
Reproductions of Leutze's Delaware spoke to Washington's dissemination into homes and ultimately the American people's continued fixation and fascination with the President.[19] Washington's image often accrued an association of meanings. Americans decorated their homes with prints and paintings of the seemingly mythological American leader, because they wanted to emulate his exemplary qualities and traits. During the 1860s, many Americans looked to Washington's example for support when the Civil War broke out. Conveniently muting his slave-owning past, many Northerners viewed Washington as the "model man" and only, "in emulation of him as 'the model man' could America steer the proper course in perilous times."[20] Washington's image inspired men and women to live their lives with the admirable qualities of this Founding Father.[21] This statement holds true in both the privacy of the home and a public art gallery. In these settings, Washington acted as, "both the public, political father and also the private paternal father…"[22] In both of these roles, agency is attributed to the painting which enabled Washington to serve as a model citizen, and intimately transmute ideas of nationalism and citizenship.[23]
The Leavitt household is an example of a nineteenth-century household that attempted to convey this active remembrance and emulation to their children.[24] On July 4, 1815, Elizabeth Leavitt was born to David Leavitt and Maria Clarissa Lewis.[25] The Leavitts lived in Brooklyn, New York. Later additions to the family included three male sons, David, Edward, and Harry Sheldon. The Leavitts were an affluent family. David Leavitt served as President of both the Brooklyn White Lead Company and Fulton Bank.[26] Leavitt also had ties to real estate, in which he purchased lots to make a profit as well as secure homes for his children. Even with all these obligations that forced Leavitt outside of the home, he still found time to be present in his family's life. The home was a place for both the men and women of the household to reconvene at the end of a long day's work.
Technological advances in the nineteenth century shifted dynamics in the workplace and household. With new occupations pulling men into the city, and away from their families, one might assume that fathers often neglected their children. However, the patriarchal hierarchy dating back to the Revolutionary War evolved into a spousal partnership, with more child rearing responsibilities delegated to mothers.[27] Fathers now had to balance breadwinning with their emotional and social contributions to household. Paternalism's new role in the nineteenth century, "still associated manliness with being a good father and husband."[28] Men still made time to mold their children's spiritual beliefs and oversee their schooling. Fathers often assumed rituals of authority that dictated their dominance in household governance; the patriarchal figure controlled the family's decisions from what to eat to what they discussed at the dinner table.[29] Elizabeth and David Leavitt exemplify the relationship between a father and a daughter in this form of patriarchal society.
The dynamic between fathers and daughters in nineteenth-century America often resembled that of a surrogate wife. It was the father's responsibility to make sure their daughters blossomed into exemplary wives and mothers. This dynamic was the essence of their relationship.[30] Fathers often looked after their daughters even long after they had married and moved away from home.[31] In 1831, Mr. Fisher Howe bought a lot next to the Leavitt's home on Willow Street and started to build his own house.[32] Mrs. Howe passed away a few months before the house's completion, leaving behind two children without a mother. In 1832, Mr. Howe began conversing with David Leavitt about his intentions of marrying Elizabeth (who at the time was seventeen). With David's approval, the couple got engaged in July and married in October in the Leavitt household. Shortly after the marriage, David Leavitt gave 102 Willow Street to his daughter.[33] The two formed a bond within this patriarchal hierarchy, which is informed by material objects they left behind.
The architecture and furnishings of the domestic domain spoke to the father's presence and authority in both the family and the home itself.[34] Leavitt left two portraits of himself to his daughter, Elizabeth Howe. In 1824, David Leavitt and his wife commissioned Samuel Lovett Waldo to paint portraits of them. These artworks hung in Elizabeth Leavitt Howe's dining room even in her old age.[35] These two paintings do more than capture the resemblance of her parents on a canvas (Figures 8 and 9). Mr. and Mrs. Leavitt posed for this set of portraits around the time the family settled down in Brooklyn, and on the brink of her father's success. David Leavitt looks up from his newspaper and peers directly at the viewer with a powerful gaze. The newspaper symbolizes Mr. Leavitt's profession as a man immersed in the business world.[36] Maria Leavitt sits calmly in an armchair, and becomes an object of the viewer's gaze. This portrait also informs the viewer of her role as a mother. The window to her left reveals a serene landscape. This natural scene relates to Maria's sheltered life as a wife, raising her children in Brooklyn, and speaks to the delicate nature of being a woman that was acceptable at the time.[37] These two works conform to recognizable nineteenth-century portraiture conventions. Even after her parents passed away, Elizabeth would have a constant reminder of her family in her home. These works served as an active remembrance of her father and mother and a call to emulate the values they instilled in her.[38]
Figure 8: Samuel Lovett Waldo (American, 1783-1861). Maria Clarissa Leavitt, ca. 1820-1825. Oil on panel, 33 3/16 x 25 1/2 in. (84.3 x 64.8 cm). Brooklyn Museum, Gift of Anna S. Delafield, Fisher Howe, Lawrence Howe, and R. Warren Howe in memory of their brother, David Leavitt Howe (1915-1995), 1996.43.2
Figure 9: Samuel Lovett Waldo (American, 1783-1861). David Leavitt, ca. 1820-1825. Oil on panel, 33 1/16 x 25 9/16 in. (83.9 x 65 cm). Brooklyn Museum, Gift of Anna S. Delafield, Fisher Howe, Lawrence Howe, and R. Warren Howe in memory of their brother, David Leavitt Howe (1915-1995), 1996.43.1
Family portraits were not the only pieces of art that David Leavitt gifted to his daughter. Fathers often advised their daughters in fashioning their household's décor.[39] By choosing artwork for Elizabeth's new home, Leavitt, "transmutes the thing's objecthood: once a thing becomes familiar through the association ownership entails, it seems (more) personal, more self-expressive of the owner."[40] Thus, by giving Elizabeth a replica of one of his most prized paintings, Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth, Mr. Leavitt is further solidifying his presence in her home. These sentimental objects have the power to transmit Leavitt's personhood, and recall emotions and other memories shared with her father. In her memoir, Elizabeth mentions other items her father left to her, one of which is his ring she consistently wore on her finger.[41] These material objects further illustrate the bond between Elizabeth and David. Not only did he give her a piece of art, Leavitt chose to gift Elizabeth one of his passions, a history painting.
In 1853, David Leavitt retired and moved to Great Barrington, Massachusetts. The architects at "Brookshire" (the name of his new estate) adopted an Italian villa style, to best cater to family functions as well as allot enough space to comfortably provide entertainment. While there were many pleasurable aspects of Leavitt's homes in New York, Brookshire became a manifestation of domesticity in nineteenth-century American culture. Brookshire offered an escape from Leavitt's various obligations in the city and enabled him to relax in the countryside. Here, the individual could create their own utopia furnished with comfort and blanketed in leisure.[42] The highlight of Leavitt's retirement home was a room devoted to one of his passions: art. The picture gallery at Brookshire contained about one-hundred pictures. Some other noteworthy historical paintings in the gallery were, Washington at Dorchester Heights, Sir Walter Raleigh Bidding Farewell to His Wife, The Court of Henry the Eighth, and First News from Lexington.[43] The controversial Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth (1853) by Emanuel Leutze was the prize of Leavitt's collection. The Picture Gallery's designs ensured that Monmouth would hang prominently on a wall near one of the exits.[44]
Nineteenth-century Americans saw the home as, "'a kind of monument' to human life work and experience."[45] The home reinforced morally acceptable behavior instilled in children by their upbringing that had become challenged in the outside world. Elizabeth Leavitt Howe's domestic domain originally belonged to her father, and she grew up, and even got married in this home. This domestic domain was furnished with physical objects that brought to mind fond recollections of her father and contained memories embedded in the building's architecture. Elizabeth encountered these precious moments by walking past the room where she married her husband, or gazing at her parents' portraits hanging on the dining room wall. Even in retirement, David Leavitt visited his children and grandchildren in their homes.[46] This speaks to his active role in Elizabeth's life, even as she embraced a new chapter as a wife and mother. Since Leavitt owned and commissioned the 1853 Monmouth, the 1857 replica may have had a sentimental value for Elizabeth. Not only would it recall memories of her father, but it would have added a sense of comfort and familiarity in the assumption of her new role as a maternal figure and devoted wife.[47] When her father passed away, neither Elizabeth nor her siblings were able to exhibit Leavitt's larger paintings of Washington, Monmouth (1853) and Washington at Dorchester Heights, in their homes because of their size.[48] Instead, Elizabeth held on to the 1857 replica until her death. Even with its miniature size, the painting fulfills its purpose by transmuting the memories of her father through its presence in her home.[49]
The size of Monmouth (1857) was conducive for a domestic domain, unlike the larger version of the painting. The artist executed the scene on a smaller canvas, because it was not meant to be a spectacle in a public gallery. This may also speak to the decline in public interest and outright appreciation for these massive history paintings, that many believed only gained recognition for their impressive size. Leutze's work particularly went under fire a year after his death in 1868. The Independent, which favored Monmouth over Delaware, criticized Washington's crossing for its monumental size. The reviewer claimed that the audience would engage with the work better if it took the form of a smaller print, or executed on a smaller canvas.[50] It was easier to let go of the larger work and retain the smaller replica that Elizabeth's father made for her because of its priceless sentimental value. Individuals often preferred furnishing their domestic domains with objects of this nature as opposed to items that solely had a high market value. Thus, furnishing the household with comfort and relevance over extravagance and wealth.[51] Now, Elizabeth could take a closer, intimate look at Monmouth in the privacy of her own home, surrounded by other works of art and her family.
Elizabeth Leavitt Howe grew up in a world immersed in art. A photo accompanies her journal, in which she sits at the dining room table at 102 Willow Street, filling the pages of a book with her autobiography. Five paintings hang behind her. They virtually cover the entire wall, and give the impression that Howe had more paintings than she can fit in her domestic domain.[52] These material objects speak to the cult of domesticity, a social system that sought to keep women inside the home, which engulfed nineteenth-century American society. The subject matter of the paintings informs this point. Households included various material objects, such as paintings and prints, brandished with George Washington's image, because his portrait was synonymous with ideas of nationalism and citizenship. Americans came to identify Washington as a national patriarch, a common father that informed collective memory as well as inferred a sense of unity amongst citizens.[53] This active remembrance and emulation took place in art galleries as well as the privacy of the home. The two versions of Emanuel Leutze's Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth illustrate ways in which Americans engaged with Washington's image in public and private settings.
Leutze fashioned two drastically different George Washingtons in the 1853 and 1857 paintings. Whereas the 1853 painting portrays a General who lost his temper in the heat of battle, the 1857 piece showcases the timeless portrayal of Washington that Americans had come to know and admire. In the blockbuster canvas, Washington's facial expressions allude to his anger and discontent with his soldiers, especially Major General Charles Lee. While Washington was leading his troops at the Battle of Monmouth, he saw Lee's flank retreating. Washington rallied these disheartened men and reinstituted their call to fight the British. According to American legend, this is the only battle in which George Washington uttered an oath (directed at Charles Lee). Leutze studied historical interpretations of the battle, and imagined Washington's reaction as these events unfolded before him. The 1853 piece follows the American folklore which speaks to Washington's display of anger. The red cheeks and his stern glare locked on Lee speak to the unmistakable tension inherent on the canvas. Leutze employed shadows around the Commander in Chief's face to further draw viewers into the facial features that had everyone in the clearing speechless. Ultimately, Leutze crafted a "new Washington," which did not portray the stoic leader with traditional heroic or brave overtones.[54]
The veneration of the Father of the Country image informed household governance in nineteenth-century America. Many criticized Leutze's 1853 painting, because Washington's image was much more than an account of his appearance. American symbols, such as a portrait of Washington, became, "…nationalist icons that would bind the nation together."[55] Portraying Washington in a negative light was a sign of disrespect aimed at the President and the United States as a whole. In the nineteenth century, the patriarchal hierarchy placed the father as the head of household, who deserved the upmost respect and reverence. The deviation in Emanuel Leutze's portrayal of Washington, the father, was met with harsh criticism by his reverent children.
Both versions of Emanuel Leutze's Monmouth paintings illustrate nineteenth-century household domestic domains. The 1853 piece is a symbol of excessive wealth and decadence, befitting a gallery setting. The piece found its home at Brookshire, Massachusetts in David Leavitt's picture gallery. Americans enjoyed fashioning their homes with historical paintings that depicted heroic moments from the nation's early-national era. Many found it acceptable to look back to the country's founding for inspiration and guidance when navigating through the challenges of day-to-day life. George Washington's reputation as a fearless and courageous leader influenced many Americans to display pictures and prints of him in their domestic domains. Leutze's 1853 version of Monmouth ultimately challenged the conventional portrayal and interpretation of the commander in chief. It received a plethora of negative reviews, because it was an insult to Washington, the Father of The Country. When the 1853 painting was "rediscovered" in the art collection of the University of California in the mid-1960s, it received positive remarks from around the country.[56] Thus, showcasing that style informs a given period’s culture in regards to its social structure. It was inconceivable to humanize Washington in the nineteenth century. However, this fact did not hold true in the twentieth century as the exhibition at the University of California suggests.
In addition to the 1857 Monmouth replica, Elizabeth also owned several portraits of her father. In 1835, Elizabeth and her husband, Fisher, posed for a pair of portraits with a popular artist from New York. The set of portraits hung next to the pair (depicting Howe's parents) painted by Samuel Lovett Waldo.[57] The arrangement of these works, alongside Maria and David's portraits, attests to Howe's admiration and respect for her parents. Placing herself and her husband next to her father and mother was a compassionate act of emulation, in which Elizabeth was attempting to liken herself to her parents. The 1857 replica of Monmouth also spoke to Howe's proclivity for using paintings in expressing familial ties. Elizabeth Howe's material objects informed social relationships in nineteenth-century patriarchal society. For Elizabeth, the painting of George Washington is a physical reminder of her American heritage as well as her familial ties.
Endnotes
[1] Emanuel Gottlieb Leutze, Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth, 1857, oil on canvas, 52 x 87". Freehold, Monmouth County Historical Association.
[2] UC Berkeley (@ucberkeley), 2019, “‘Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth’ (1853) by Emanuel Gottlieb Leutze graces the Heyns Reading Room in Doe Library. Our country’s first president was also the subject of Leutze’s best known work, ‘Washington Crossing the Delaware,’” Instagram photo, February 15, 2016, https://www.instagram.com/p/BB0Qof_ysuV/.
[3] Julius Amatus Roeting, Emanuel Leutze, 1850, oil on canvas, 130.5 x 102 x 5.5 cm. Dusseldorf, Stadtmuseum Landeshauptstadt, https://www.deutsche-digitale-bibliothek.de/item/MHQ LETEGYIAQ737ITHOV3PUVG3KQ3 72V.
[4] Auguste Lenci, Life Mask, 1835-1845, plaster. Washington D.C., Daughters of the American Revolution Museum, https://www.dar.org/museum/remembering-american-revolution-1776-1890.
[5] It is important to note the version of Washington Crossing the Delaware (1851) at the Metropolitan Museum of Art that I will use for this study is not the original. A studio fire in 1850 severely damaged the painting. It was restored but the piece did not survive a bombing raid in 1942. Emanuel Gottlieb Leutze, Washington Crossing the Delaware, 1851, oil on canvas, 149 x 255 in. New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art, https://www.metmu seum.org/art/collection/ search/11417.
[6] Leutze employed literalism for the content of the painting (the size of Washington and his men in the boat). The men are seemingly life-size, with an unknown scale at work in the painting. Jennifer Roberts, “Audubon’s Burden: Materiality and Transmission in The Birds of America,” in Transporting Visions: The Movement of Images in Early America (Berkeley, Los Angeles and London: University of California Press, 2014), 80.
[7] Jochen Wierich, Grand Themes: Emanuel Leutze, Washington Crossing the Delaware and American History Painting (University Park: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2012), 37.
[8] Cong. Globe, 32nd Cong., 1st Sess. 1004-1005 (1852), Library of Congress, https://memory.loc.gov/ammem/amlaw/lwcglink.html#anchor32.
[9] Clarence Cook, “Leutze’s Washington at Monmouth,” The Independent 7 (November 1854), 1.
[10] “Washington at Monmouth. By E. Leutze,” The Albion: British Colonial and Weekly Gazette, (New York, New York), November 1854, 537.
[11] B., "Leutze's New Painting of Washington at the Battle of Monmouth," The New York Times, (New York, New York), May 18, 1854.
[12] “"Leutze's Washington at the Battle of Monmouth," The Crayon 1, no. 2 (1855): 22, accessed May 1, 2021, http://www.jstor.org/stable/25526780.
[13] Specifically, the three men in the corner who are trying to get water from a puddle for their fallen comrade.
[14] Wierich 2012, 39.
[15] Washington's image also made its way onto other household objects during the nineteenth-century. The first President had a common presence in the home in a myriad of mediums. Barbara J. Mitnick, ed., George Washington American Symbol (New York: Hudson Hills Press, 1999), 92.
[16] William Ayers, ed, Picturing History: American Painting 1770-1930 (New York: Rizzoli International Publications, 1993), 43.
[17] Ayers 1993, 17.
[18] Ayers 1993, 17.
[19] Wierich 2012, 41-42.
[20] Mitnick 1999, 103.
[21] Ayers 1993, 50.
[22] Francois Furstenberg, In the Name of the Father: Washington's Legacy, Slavery, and the Making of a Nation (New York: The Penguin Press, 2006), 42.
[23] Furstenberg 2006, 42.
[24] Furstenberg 2006, 35.
[25] Elizabeth Leavitt Howe, My Early and Later Days: Their Story for My Children and Grandchildren (Auburn: Press of Knapp, Peck & Thompson, 1898), 7.
[26] Howe 1898, 81.
[27] Stephen M. Frank, Life with Father: Parenthood & Masculinity in the Nineteenth-Century American North (Baltimore: The John Hopkins University Press, 1998), 3.
[28] Frank 1998, 22.
[29] Frank 1998, 68.
[30] Frank 1998, 161.
[31] Frank 1998, 165.
[32] Howe 1898, 34.
[33] Howe 1898, 24-27.
[34] Frank 1998, 69.
[35] Howe 1898, 33.
[36] Samuel Lovett Waldo, David Leavitt, ca. 1820-1825, oil on panel, 33 1/16 x 25 9/16 in. Brooklyn, Brooklyn Museum, https://www.brooklynmuseum.org/opencollection/objects/2355.
[37] Samuel Lovett Waldo, Maria Clarissa Leavitt, ca. 1820-1825, oil on panel, 33 3/16 x 25 1/2 in. Brooklyn, Brooklyn Museum, https://www.brooklynmuseum.org/opencollection/objects/2356.
[38] Howe 1898, 85.
[39] Frank 1989, 165.
[40] Gillian Brown, Domestic Individualism: Imaging Self in Nineteenth Century America (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990), 42.
[41] Howe 1898, 43.
[42] Brown 1990, 101.
[43] Howe 1898, 41.
[44] Howe 1898, 41.
[45] Brown 1990, 71.
[46] Howe 1898, 43.
[47] Brown 1990. 46.
[48] Howe 1898, 43.
[49] Susan Stewart, On Longing: Narratives of the Miniature, the Gigantic, the Souvenir, the Collection (Durham: Duke University Press, 2007), 46.
[50] Wierich 2012, 39.
[51] Brown 1990, 45-46.
[52] Howe 1898, 2.
[53] Furstenberg 2006, 20-23.
[54] "Washington at the Battle of Monmouth: A National Historical Painting." New York: University of California Berkeley, 1854, 3. https://hdl.handle.net/2027/uc1.a0011548252.
[55] Furstenberg 2006, 55.
[56] Herschel Browning Chipp papers, 1964-1974, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution, https://www.aaa.si.edu/collections/herschel-browning-chipp-papers-5688#overview.
[57] Howe 1898, 33.
Bibliography
Primary Sources:
Art:
Lenci, Auguste. Life Mask, 1835-1845. Plaster. Washington D.C., Daughters of the American Revolution Museum. https://www.dar.org/museum/remembering-american-revolution-1776-1890.
Leutze, Emanuel Gottlieb. Washington Crossing the Delaware, 1851. Oil on canvas, 149 x 255 in. New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art. https://www.metmu seum.org/art/collection/ search/11417.
____________________. Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth, 1857. Oil on canvas, 52 x 87". Freehold, Monmouth County Historical Association.
Roeting, Julius Amatus. Emanuel Leutze, 1850. Oil on canvas, 130.5 x 102 x 5.5 cm. Dusseldorf, Stadtmuseum Landeshauptstadt. https://www.deutsche-digitale-bibliothek.de/item/MHQLETEGYIAQ737ITHOV3PUVG3KQ372V.
UC Berkeley (@ucberkeley), 2019. “‘Washington Rallying the Troops at Monmouth’ (1853) by Emanual Gottlieb Leutze graces the Heyns Reading Room in Doe Library. Our country’s first president was also the subject of Leutze’s best known work, ‘Washington Crossing the Delaware,’” Instagram photo. February 15, 2016. https://www.instagram.com/p/BB0Qof_ysuV/.
Waldo, Samuel Lovett. David Leavitt, ca. 1820-1825. Oil on panel, 33 1/16 x 25 9/16 in. Brooklyn, Brooklyn Museum, https://www.brooklynmuseum.org/opencollection/objects/2355.
__________________. Maria Clarissa Leavitt, ca. 1820-1825. Oil on panel, 33 3/16 x 25 1/2 in. Brooklyn, Brooklyn Museum, https://www.brooklynmuseum.org/opencollection/objects/2356.
Reviews:
B. "Leutze's New Painting of Washington at the Battle of Monmouth," The New York Times (New York, New York), May 18, 1854.
Cook, Clarence. “Leutze’s Washington at Monmouth,” The Independent 7, November 1854.
"Leutze's Washington at the Battle of Monmouth." The Crayon 1, no. 2 (1855): 22. Accessed May 1, 2021. http://www.jstor.org/stable/25526780.
“Washington at the Battle of Monmouth: A National Historical Painting." New York: University of California Berkeley, 1854. https://hdl.handle.net/2027/uc1.a0011548252.
“Washington at Monmouth. By E. Leutze,” The Albion: British Colonial and Weekly Gazette, (New York, New York), November 1854.
Other:
Cong. Globe, 32nd Cong., 1st Sess. 1004-1005 (1852). Library of Congress. https://memory.loc.gov/ammem/amlaw/lwcglink.html#anchor32.
Herschel Browning Chipp papers, 1964-1974. Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution, https://www.aaa.si.edu/collections/herschel-browning-chipp-papers-5688#overview.
Howe, Elizabeth Leavitt. My Early and Later Days: Their Story for My Children and Grandchildren. Auburn: Press of Knapp, Peck & Thompson, 1898.
“Washington at the Battle of Monmouth” in curatorial file. March 22, 1995. Freehold, Monmouth County Historical Association.
Secondary Sources:
Ayers, William, ed. Picturing History: American Painting 1770-1930. New York: Rizzoli International Publications, 1993.
Brown, Gillian. Domestic Individualism: Imaging Self in Nineteenth Century America. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990.
Frank, Stephen M. Life with Father: Parenthood & Masculinity in the Nineteenth-Century American North. Baltimore: The John Hopkins University Press, 1998.
Furstenberg, Francois. In the Name of the Father: Washington's Legacy, Slavery, and the Making of a Nation. New York: The Penguin Press, 2006.
Mayer, Lance and Gay Myers. "Emanuel Leutze's Washington Crossing the Delaware through Conservator's Eyes." In Washington Crossing the Delaware: Restoring an American Masterpiece, 21-28. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2001.
Mitnick, Barbara J. ed. George Washington American Symbol. New York: Hudson Hills Press, 1999.
Roberts, Jennifer. "Audubon’s Burden: Materiality and Transmission in The Birds of America.” In Transporting Visions: The Movement of Images in Early America, 69- 116. Berkeley, Los Angeles and London: University of California Press, 2014.
Stewart, Susan. On Longing: Narratives of the Miniature, the Gigantic, the Souvenir, the Collection. Durham: Duke University Press, 2007.
Wierich, Jochen. Grand Themes: Emanuel Leutze, Washington Crossing the Delaware and American History Painting. University Park: The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2012.