Mourning Prints for George Washington

On December 14, 1799, George Washington passed away at Mount Vernon and the nation went into deep mourning. Washington was a figure revered by most Americans so his death took on an almost religious aspect and citizens from all walks of life wanted to memorialize the “Father of his country.” Thus right from the start of the nineteenth century, there was a large outpouring of objects of art honoring his life and commemorating his death. These included drawings, paintings, needlework and embroidery, and—-of course-—prints.

Interestingly, one of the first memorial prints of Washington was issued in London on April 10, 1800. Entitled “George Washington Late President of the United States,” it was engraved by P. Roberts and dedicated “to the friends of the Above Gentleman.” A bust portrait, based on a painting by American artist William Birch, is set into a scene with weapons of war and flags, giving Washington a setting of military glory.

Perhaps the earliest American morning print, “Sacred to the Memory of the truly Illustrious George Washington,” was designed by John Coles, Jr., engraved by Enoch G. Gridley, and published in Boston in July 1800. A large marble monument glorifies this “Great and Good Man.” A portrait of Washington, based on Edward Savages 1792 engraving, is held by Minerva, representing Washington’s military past. Fame hovers above the portrait blowing a trumpet from which hangs a banner listing Washington’s Revolutionary War triumphs. A weeping Columbia morns the loss of her son, as does a soldier standing in front of the monument.

Shortly after that print appear, in December 1800, this a stipple engraving by David Edwin, based on a drawing by Rembrandt Peale, was issued. Entitled “Apotheosis of Washington,” the President is shown rising to heaven from Mount Vernon (shown in the bottom right of the image) with a cherubim holding above his head a wreath of Immortality. Two figures look on, welcoming Washington, representing two slain Revolutionary War generals, Richard Montgomery and Joseph Warren.

The notion of the apotheosis of Washington led to the publication, in 1802, of another print on this theme, based on another important American artist of the period, John James Barralet. The initial advertisement for the print described it thusly, “The subject—General Washington raised from the tomb, by the spiritual and temporal Genius [that is ‘Father Time’]—assisted by Immortality. At his feet America weeping over his Armour, holding the staff surmounted by the cap of Liberty, emblematical of his mild administration, on the opposite side, an Indian crouched in surly sorrow. In the third ground the mental virtues, Faith, Hope, and Charity.” Other symbols in the picture include several representations of the Washington’s country; the American Eagle and Crest, as well as rattlesnakes, which referred to America’s revolutionary spirit. This print was so popular that it went through at least four states and was copied into other forms, including transfer china.

A number of prints focused on the fact that the people of the United States continued to mourn for Washington. This print by Boston printmaker Thomas Clarke, issued in 1801, shows a man and woman weeping into handkerchiefs while being consoled by a figure of Hope, who points to heaven and has the symbol of an anchor (“Hope...as an anchor of the soul.”). A monument to Washington, with his face engraved below a cherubim is set below a weeping willow.

The publication of Washington mourning images slowed down for a number of years, but the renewed patriotism motivated by the War of 1812 inspired a new group of such prints. One of these was a calligraphic image, a popular type of print at the time. This was drawn and published by Benjamin O. Tyler, “Professor of Penmanship,” in 1817, engraved by Peter Maverick. The print is entitled “Eulogium Sacred to the Memory of the Illustrious George Washington, Columbia’s Great and Successful Son: Honored Be His Name,” and in it Tyler uses clever symbols and other images.

This sort of print remained popular, as demonstrated by a second calligraphic memorial print, “Sacred to the Memory of the Illustrious Champion of Liberty, General George Washington; First President of the United States of America, issued about two decades later by John I. Donlevy. The face of the portrait is done with straight engraving, but the rest of the bust is made up of effusive swirls, and the writing gives the title and dates in Washington’s life.

Another print from the 1830s was a third apotheosis print, a lithograph issued in London based on a painting by Samuel Moore. The image is explicated by text at the bottom, but the image is readily understood even today. At the top, Washington is being born to heaven by the seven virtues, "the inmates of his Soul in his terrestial Pilgrimmage." Beneath, just below the American crest with its eagle, stands Columbia, "who looks up to him [Washington] as the rock of her consolation." In the foreground are shown the sixteen "Orphan States, dissolving in sorrow at his Tomb, and lamenting the departure of their adored Friend, Benefactor, and Protector." This refers to the sixteen state which were part of the U.S. at the time of Washington’s death.

Mapping your Marriage in the 1850s by Vince Szilagyi

We see maps of all sorts in our line of work, but recently the shop acquired one that had even us shaking our heads in amusement. The map in question is a marvelous and charming 1850 lithograph by Philadelphia printmaker Augustus Kollner which examines and charts one of the most important and difficult areas of the human experience, marriage!

At the top of this map, an appropriately solemn wedding is being conducted in front of a crowd of earnestly praying guests. Beneath this scene lies “The Great Ocean of Love.” This ocean, according to the text on the map, “represents a period of life that all persons are supposed at some time or another to pass. By an examination of the chart voyagers will be enabled to avoid the dangers that beset them, and arrive safely at the haven of felicity."

The aforementioned dangers are graphically illustrated in the map by the numerous islands, bays, straits, gulfs, harbors, rivers and other geographic features which dot the Ocean of Love with names like “The Rocks of Jealousy”, “Mountains of Deceit” and “Divorce Isle”. The left and right sides of the map are filled with text detailing the various locations in the Ocean of Love, and how they are to be traversed safely in order to reach a happy and loving marriage. The dangers presented range from the serious, [“River of Abuse”, “Mountains of Hatred”], to flippant [“Silly Isles”] to memorable [“Hymen’s Light-House”]. Guiding the would-be lovers is a compass rose in the bottom left corner, on which the cardinal directions are Hope, Love, Despair and Hatred.

My personal favorite of the obstacles and descriptions is Port Desire. “Port Desire, From what cause we are unable to explain, is not visible on any of the Charts. Yet it affirmed to by many, that from time immemorial, it has been a place of great resort, by all classes. The tides about the coast are very rapid, so much so, as to rise and fall almost beyond the power of imagination. In running for the harbor, it is necessary to bear up betwixt the rocks of Philosophy and Prudence. After passing them, the traveler may be considered clear of danger, always taking care never to bring too at shallow water.” While Bachelor Fort, is a strong contender, Port Desire neatly encapsulates the unique combination of 1850’s American culture, artwork and humor that make this map so charming.

This print is exceedingly rare, with the only other extant example we could find being a copy at the Library of Congress. However, as seen above, this copy lacks the descriptive text along the left and right of the image. The Library of Congress states that this space was for recording marriages but we disagree. We feel that the blank columns indicate that this version of the map was sent to the Library of Congress before the print was finished as a copyright copy, designed to guarantee Kollner ownership of the image itself. With the copyright secure, Kollner finished the map and began to sell copies with descriptive text in the columns, like the one the shop now holds.

Although this particular map is rare, there are some other matrimonial maps in private collections and in the hands of particular dealers. Matrimonial maps originated in late 18th century in Europe, and became fairly popular in the 19th century in both Europe and the United States. Maps like this were used both as décor and as a tool to help preserve the virtue of young men and women and help guide them into happy, stable marriages. Using these maps people could avoid obstacles like the “Sands of Inconstancy” and the “Floating Isles of Flattery” and eventually reach the promised land of “Lake Affection” and “Baby Fort”. Some struggles really are timeless.

Matrimonial maps faded in popularity but some examples of 20th century maps do exist. A British collector and antiques dealer named Rod Barron has a wonderful collection of matrimonial maps on his website Thanks to the Library of Congress and to Ella Morton at www.altaobscura.com for putting us on to Mr. Barron’s collection.

America as an Indian Woman

We just acquired a late eighteenth-century, French print, “L’Amerique,” representing America as a handsome Indian woman. The image is very Europeanized, with classical features, the only exotic aspect being the feathered headdress with the sun symbol on the front.

It has long been customary to represent the continents as women, each shown as a “type” that supposedly reflected the nature of that continent. The obvious type for America, from the earliest days of discovery, was as a Native American. These figures were often shown with bows and arrows, or spears, with feathered headdresses, and surrounded by exotic animals or other items, including one with a severed head.

The classic early uses of this representation was on the title pages of atlases, where the four continents were all shown. The title pages by Ortelius (1570) and Mercator (1595) both show America as an Indian, who, along with Africa, is shown mostly naked as opposed to the fully clothed figures of Europe and Asia.

The 18th century was a time when allegories were popular and the use of an Indian figures to represent America was quite common, indicating that this was universally understood by those for whom the prints were intended. “The Tea-Tax Tempest” shows the four continents, including a Native American, watching a magic lantern showing an image of the American Revolution.

This other allegory, which glorifies American Independence, has Benjamin Franklin and a semi-naked (again!) Indian standing under a figure of liberty watching as Britain is overwhelmed.

The figures were now a little more Europeanized in appearance, the “exotic” nature of America represented by feathers and often keeping the figures only partially clothed. After the American Revolution, other figures, such as Columbia and Brother Jonathan, came to be used more than an Indian as the symbol of America, though there were still instances, such as the French print at the top.

The use of a Native American woman to represent America continued into the nineteenth century, always with exotic clothing and feathers, but usually with more clothes that earlier examples.

The exoticism of the symbol, together with the fact that it seemed ok to show an Indian maiden in a manner one would never do for non-natives, meant that some of these images remained a bit more risqué than one might expect for the period.

The Clements Library has an excellent on-line exhibit on Native American history and this includes a fun page specifically on this topic, “Indian Queens and Indian Princesses: Allegorical Representations of America." Well worth a visit!

Symbol of America

In the course of researching a wonderful allegory we just acquired, I reread an interesting article by E. McClung Fleming, “From Indian Princess to Greek Goddess. The American Image, 1783-1815,” which appeared in Winterthur Portfolio III in 1967. Fleming wrote:

“In the national pride and aspiration of this era [after the Treaty of Paris], there was continuous need to refer to the new nation as a living entity with a palpable spirit. Following an ancient impulse, American s personified their country for a hundred purposes and occasions—[including] a nation interested in the arts and sciences on frontispieces of national magazines, a noble, attractive nation in prints to be placed on the walls of homes… The United States was actively and continuously represented by symbolic figures giving it a needed public image during the years from 1783 to 1815.” (p. 37)

He identifies four prototype ways in which America was symbolized in the first few decades of the nation's history: as an Indian princess, a plumed Greek goddess, as Liberty, and as Columbia.


Indian Princess:
In the earliest images, America (both the North American continent and the nascent United States), was usually depicted as an Indian princess. This derived from the tradition of using an Indian for America when the four continents of the world were personified as Queens. This figure was used in medals, fabric and prints, often with the Indian princess having the attributes of the liberty cap, a rattlesnake, and the American shield and/or flag.


Plumed Greek goddess
The next version of America that appeared in prints was a goddess-like figure in Grecian robes and with a headdress plumed with ostrich plumes (instead of eagle feathers as for the Indian figure). This change was the result of the popularity of the Classical style which influenced American architecture, poetry, dress and the graphic arts beginning near the end of the eighteenth century. This Greek figure would often be accompanied by other classical figures and symbols like a pyramid, altar, or urn. A nice example of this is the print of "American Guided by Wisdom," which I discussed in an earlier blog.


Liberty
The third style for America in prints was that of the Goddess of Liberty. Symbols of Liberty (the pole and cap of Liberty) were often associated with other figures representing America, but the American Revolution and the founding principles of the new nation were so closely identified with the cause of Liberty, that the figure of this goddess soon became, in effect, Americanized. She would often be shown with the American flag, shield, or eagle, or associated with stars representing the states. The Statue of Liberty is a prime example of this, as is the print showing Liberty holding a portrait of Thomas Jefferson while looking at another of George Washington hanging on a pyramid nearby. Liberty is crushing the symbols of monarchy under her foot and the American eagle is by her side.


Columbia
The final form which Fleming discusses is America as Columbia, a figure whose name derives from Christopher Columbus. The use of Columbia as a personification of America began as early as the late seventeenth century, but became particularly popular at the time of the Revolution. As Fleming said, “The name recalled not only the fact of the discovery of America, but also the symbolic notion that America, through the voyage of Columbus, linked the Occident to the Orient in the great westward flow of civilization.” (p.59) Columbia did not have either the feathered or plumed headdress, but often either went bareheaded or had the helmet associated with Minerva. She tended to be dressed in classical white robes or sometimes the national banner. She also was usually accompanied by other symbols of America, such as the shield, flag, and eagle.

The print pictured above is a wonderful example of this form for America. It is an engraving by Samuel Harris issued in 1804. In it Columbia is illustrated as a proud and independent member of the family of nations of the world. The subtitle of the print promises "Peace with all nations, Partiality to none." This refers to the American attempt at the time to remain neutral between France and Great Britain. France, of course, had been America's great ally against the British in the Revolution, and despite the hiccup of the "Quasi-War" of 1798-1800, France and the United States had remained on friendly terms. There was always a strong pro-British faction in the United States and the government did try to keep a neutral stance even when in 1803 Britain declared war against France and Napoleon. The British were none too happy with this American stance and began to stop American ships in order to impress British-born, but naturalized U.S. citizens into the British navy. The tensions between the United States and Britain eventually led to the War of 1812, but in 1804, when this print was issued, Americans still hoped to be able to remain neutral, a sentiment nicely illustrated in this allegory.

In the print, Columbia sits as a strong independent nation, holding an American flag and a laurel branch, while the proud American eagle is emblazoned on the nation's shield. This theme is further emphasized by ships on the horizon exemplifying American commerce and various symbols in the foreground representing America's arts. A ring of seventeen chain links, each filled by a star, symbolizes the states of the Union (Ohio had become the seventeenth state in 1803).

Recycled Union

Last week I described in general terms the notion of recycled prints, where a new print is made from an already existing matrix, the image being modified to some extent. By the middle of the nineteenth century, many of the larger prints were being produced from steel plates, which lasted very well even after thousands of impressions were produced. It was not particularly practical to melt down or totally wipe clean a steel plate, and with the ability of these plates to be reused many times, quite a number of steel plates were kept for years after their first use. Sometimes they were reprinted with little or no change, but other times they would be extensively modified so they could be used for what was a “new” image. One of the most famous examples of this was a print entitled “Union,” which was recycled not just once, but twice.

The first use of the “Union” plate was for an 1852 engraving by Henry S. Sadd after a painting by Tomkins Harrison Matteson. This print was issued to commemorate the Compromise of 1850. That political consensus was seen by many as the resolution of the tempest over the contentious issue of free and slave states that had been tearing the country apart. Matteson’s image was a celebration of this compromise which it was hoped would save the Union.

In Matteson’s painting the individuals involved in the compromise are shown seated in a formal setting. The two major protagonists, Daniel Webster and John C. Calhoun, along with “The Great Compromiser,” Henry Clay are most prominent, shown surrounding a bust of Washington, the former two with their hands on a copy of the United States Constitution. Arrayed around them are other important participants in the compromise, including Lewis Cass, Winfield Scott, Sam Houston and Millard Fillmore.

The symbolism of the print is extensive. Liberty blesses the group from above, while in the background the American eagle helps to part curtains to reveal the Utopia that the strengthened Union was seen as now proceeding towards. In the lower right corner Fillmore is shown holding an American shield above the ‘thrown down’ royal crown and scepter, a symbol of America’s struggles of the past. This is a wonderful print celebrating this important agreement in American history.

Alas, despite the print’s hopeful prognosis, the Compromise of 1850 was ultimately a failure, for the issue of slavery and its extension to new states continued to fester, leading within a decade to the secession of 11 states and then in April 1861, the fall of Fort Sumter and the beginning of the Civil War. This was followed by a swell of enthusiasm in the North for the Union; a popular wave that print publishers were quick to try to ride. A New York publisher, William Pate, saw the possibilities of Henry Sadd’s engraving after Matteson’s image, so he had it reworked to bring it up-to-date for an 1861 issue of “Union.”


Pate had all the pro-Southern faces rubbed out and pro-Northern visages inserted in their stead. John Bell (Tennessee Senator who ran against Lincoln for President), Howell Cobb (of Georgia), W.P. Magnum (of North Carolina), William R. King (of Alabama), and James Buchanan (the previous President who supported slaveholder rights) were replaced by John Wool (Union general), Edward Everett (the orator being an ardent Union supporter), William H. Seward (Lincoln’s Secretary of State), Benjamin Butler (Union General), and Robert Anderson (“hero” of Fort Sumter), respectively. The most important exchange was the elimination of James Calhoun (the great Southern spokesman) and the insertion of Abraham Lincoln in his place.


One of the interesting aspects of this print is that Lincoln is shown clean shaven. (cf. blog on Lincoln and the growing of his beard) The print was obviously issued after the fall of Fort Sumter, as evidenced by the inclusion of the Major Anderson, and by that time Lincoln had already grown his beard. It is likely that the engraver of the first recycled print had begun work shortly after Lincoln’s election and that he didn’t have access to a new image of Lincoln with a beard to base his portrait on. So he would have had to use a pre-bearded print as his source. (As an aside, Sadd is listed as the engraver on all versions of this print, though it was unlikely he made the changes to the recycled versions). At some point after the second version of “Union” was published, a third version was made, with a beard added to Lincoln’s face, creating a double-recycled print.

America Guided by Wisdom

The actions of the United States government have a huge impact not just on its own citizens, but of all people. The decisions facing the President, in particular, are difficult yet of crucial importance for the entire world. We can hope the government is guided by wisdom and this is a hope that citizens have had since the founding of the country. Today many are sceptical or pessimistic on this score, but in the early days of the republic there was more belief and optimism. This positive attitude is nicely expressed in a wonderful allegory "America Guided by Wisdom," based on a design by John Janes Barralet.

John J. Barralet (ca. 1747-1815) was an Irish artist who came to Philadelphia about 1795. He had established a reputation as a landscape and historical artist in Dublin and London. When Barralet first arrived in Philadelphia he was hired as an engraver by Alexander Lawson and soon took up painting landscapes in and around Philadelphia. Among American engravers, Barralet is credited with inventing a ruling machine for work on bank notes. Barralet is the artist of this print and the engraving was done by Benjamin Tanner, one of the leading Philadelphia engravers of the early Federal period.

The print was issued just after the War of 1812, which was often called the “Second War of Independence” at the time. Following a series of naval victories and battles at Baltimore and New Orleans, Americans were infused with a new optimism based on a peace treaty that arranged for them to be left alone to develop their new country. This print uses symbols of republican virtues to express pride in the new country, paying tribute to the nation's growing industry and trade.


In the eighteenth and early nineteenth century, educated viewers understood far more than we do about classical iconography, able to read and understand allegories such as this. However, the publisher felt descriptive text was needed and it helps provide us with information on the print. This text explains that the focus of the image is Minerva, Goddess of Wisdom, who points to an escutcheon of the United States with the motto “Union and Independence,” emblazoned on a shield held by female figure with a feathered headdress, representing America. As the description says, it is by "Union and Independence" that "the country enjoys the prosperity signaled by the horn of plenty, at the feet of America." Just besides America is a spear and shield with the visage of Medusa.

To the right of this vignette is an equestrian statue of Washington at the entrance of a "Triumphal Arch." I am not sure how this works, but according to the descripion, this is "indicating the progress of the liberal arts." On the base of the statue is a plaque with Washington's birth and death dates, as well as the year he was inaugurated President.



To the left of Minerva and America is a tableau that is best explained by the printed descriptive text:

Commerce is represented by the figure of Mercury, with one foot resting on bales of American manufactures, pointing out the advantages of encouraging and protecting Navigation...to Ceres....

Ceres is the goddess of agriculture and she is surrounded by symbols of America's rich agricultural prosperity, including a plow and wheat sheaves and a barrel and bundles of other goods.

The navigation Mercury points to is represented by a number of ships, including an armed U.S. Naval vessel.

Finally, again as explained in the descriptive text,

The Bee Hive is emblematic of industry; and the femlae spinning at the cottage door, shews the first and most useful of domestic manufactures.

Allegories of Washington & Lincoln

Another wonderful, thoughtful blog from Kelli Lucas:

A couple of weeks ago, Victoria wrote a great post about traditions of allegory in Western art. As I’ve been researching an image in our inventory of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, I’ve been thinking a lot about the particularly American set of symbols and icons that appear in popular prints. Puzzling out how those symbols have been portrayed in the past and how they came to be is a great way to unravel a little bit of American history.

From the beginning, Thomas Jefferson and other framers of our early federal documents aligned the new nation with classic republics, borrowing even classical architectural styles to express ideas of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness (visit Jefferson’s University of Virginia for the most famous examples). Early purveyors of national iconography did the same, piling classical references one upon the other. One Philadelphia artist, John James Barralet, used classically draped goddesses in Greek klismos-style chairs to symbolize the bounty and freedom of the new republic, where Hermes (Mercury) leads merchants and immigrants to the throne of Liberty. Advised by Athena (Minerva), goddess of wisdom, she sits in welcome at a pristine, colonnaded temple of justice and self-determination and receives the new arrivals with a cornucopia of produce, displaying the judicial scales which would ensure their free and equal pursuit of happiness. Greek and Roman characters, elements, and symbols were adopted to communicate new American ideals and characteristics.

As the nineteenth century progressed, Protestant Christianity became the dominant framework for American narrative of origin, replacing characters of Greek mythology with characters of the Old Testament. Bible passages were applied liberally to public speeches, and public schools were well-supplied with copies of Protestant Scripture. Popular culture and religious culture mingled in the celebrity of people like author Harriet Beecher Stowe, who wrote the wildly popular Uncle Tom’s Cabin and whose family tree was famously populated with Christian ministers and moralists. As historians like Nathan Hatch and Mark Noll have documented (more eloquently than I can in the scope of this post), popular and political culture became infused with Protestant statements of morality.

To make matters more complex for those interested in the progression of American visual culture (including print enthusiasts like us), popular Protestantism did not simply replace the Early Republic’s allegorical vocabulary of Classical imagery; rather, it layered atop the Classical stratum a drape of Protestant canonry. These layers are perhaps most evident in the nearly sacred iconography of George Washington. In a nation whose dominant, sometimes virulently anti-Catholic religion brooked no saints and no idols, Washington became like a federal deity. Cast as the father of his nation, he took on a nearly Abrahamic role in young nation’s mythology. To Protestant patriots, Washington was the one with whom God established the nation-building covenant: that his descendants would be greater in number than the stars. Scenes of allegory took on biblical casts: in a print published at his passing, George Washington, crowned with a Classical laurel wreath, journeys to heaven carried by angels, familiar symbols from Christian imagery. As though he were a chosen one borne to his eternal reward, Washington lifts his eyes toward heaven, spreading his hands to receive blessing.

Fast forward a few generations, and up comes came Abraham Lincoln: the mingled embodiment of both the Protestant work ethic and the classic American promise of opportunity. Republican campaigners literally sang his praises, lauding his adolescent wood-chopping abilities and humility of character. Following his assassination, Lincoln was elevated to a Messianic role: if Washington was the nation’s father, Lincoln was seen as its savior, and was termed exactly that by Currier and Ives in the subtitle of a print they published of the two presidents (Conningham: 6510).

After Lincoln passed, enterprising print pirates used the same image as was used to memorialize Washington decades earlier. Engraving Lincoln’s head where Washington’s had been, they ascribed to the martyred president the same divine approval as had been ascribed to the first president. Lincoln was the bearer of a sort of new covenant – the one whose Union-focused perseverance would redeem the wayward nation. He was the martyr, a Messiah-like figure whose death proved his virtue.

In 1865, Stephen J. Ferris participated in this trend, producing an image that was published by Philadelphian J.A. Arthur. Educated at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts and Paris, Ferris was a highly-trained and influential Philadelphia artist whose paintings and prints were exhibited throughout the and Europe. His image demonstrates that even fine artists took part in the elevation of Lincoln to American icon through the pairing of the sixteenth president with the first. In a shaft of heavenly light, Washington lifts Lincoln through the clouds to his eternal rest, where a crown of laurels awaits him and confirms his achievements as the Preserver of the Union. Like many images pairing the two, this was so popular as to be reproduced in cartes-de-visite form and copied by at least one amateur artist working in charcoal (see images below).



Harold Holzer is the historian who has most fully developed these ideas in his excellent article, “ ‘Columbia’s Noblest Sons’: Washington and Lincoln in Popular Prints (Journal of the Abraham Lincoln Association 15.1 (1994): 47 pars. 19 Aug. 2009 ),

In that work, he discusses the development of the pairing of the two presidents and examines how Lincoln came to achieve equal status with Washington in the heart and memory of the American Public. He examines the progression from campaign poster to memorial print, explaining how artists and print publishers responded to public demand to create an iconography of American heroes. Layering images from the early republic’s classical symbolism and Messianic, Protestant themes, they produced a group of pictures that encapsulates the complex layers of nineteenth-century American ideology.