Versailles and the American Revolution
Europe and its Colonies after 1763 Europe from 1763 to 1776 LUCIEN BÉLY
From the 1760s onwards, the British colonies in North America found the yoke of their imperial masters increasingly hard to bear: the colonists riled against taxes laid down in London, disputed the customs duties they were required to pay and that hampered their trading activities, and wanted to take part in political decisions. Gradually they organized themselves. The American rebellion against the British crown, from 1773, soon travelled beyond the bounds of the British Empire to become a new factor in international relations. This was a matter of interest to the kingdom of France, as these events were an embarrassment to a power it viewed as a rival and enduring enemy – a state of hostility that had existed between France and Britain since the 1740s, and possibly even since 1688, and that was to continue until the Napoleonic era. In November 1775, Congress set up a Committee of Secret Correspondence “for the sole purpose of corresponding with our friends in Great Britain and other parts of the world”. It soon began negotiations with the French monarchy. In March 1776, Congress appointed Silas Deane, a merchant from Connecticut, to travel to Europe to buy arms and equipment for war. Even before he arrived, the French government had decided to grant secret support to the rebel colonists. That same year, Louis XVI ordered ten ships to be kept ready to put to sea at Brest and a further eight at Toulon.
A matter of French revenge? France had felt humiliated by the Seven Years’ War (1756-63), and since the Treaty of Paris of 1863 had made great efforts to rebuild its military forces, both on land and at sea.
Cat. 3 Treaty between the King, the King of Spain and the King of Great Britain concluded in Paris on 10 February 1763 with the agreement of the King of Portugal, or Treaty of Paris Paris, Imprimerie royale, 1763 Brown calfskin binding Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France
Thanks notably to its large population, the kingdom of France was a major European power, as it had been since the seventeenth century, and defeat was therefore intolerable. Revenge seemed not only necessary but also possible, against a Great Britain that French diplomacy believed it was weakening by lending support to conflicts at the heart of the British Empire. This desire for revenge is not easy to either explain or understand. Was it merely one of the events in a skilful game played out within the cabinets that advised monarchs on how to build a rational European and world order? Or was it driven by deeper motivations, such as an upsurge of nationalist feeling in the French struggle against the British? Since the seventeenth century and the wars of Louis XIV, the collective consciousness in France had been marked by a love of country. The French government enlisted these feelings of patriotism and nationalism against the British, and was able to build on solid anglophobic foundations in order to promote its desire for revenge. As early as 1770, under Louis XV, the minister Choiseul sought to take advantage of an Anglo-Spanish quarrel over the Falkland Islands (Las Malvinas) in the South Atlantic by intervening on the Spanish side. An alliance existed between the two kings of the House of Bourbon, and it should not be forgotten that Spain controlled a large part of the Americas, from California and Louisiana to Chile. Louis XV did not support Choiseul in this affair, however, and dismissed him from the government. The king was engaged in a major reform of the justice system that signified a transformation
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Cat. 25 Letter from Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais to Charles Gravier de Vergennes 23 September 1775 Autograph letter Paris-La Courneuve, archives du ministère des Affaires étrangères
of the French state, and in his judgment these were not the right conditions for the country to support a foreign war. Louis also considered that Choiseul had neglected France’s traditional allies, whom he himself was seeking to support through his own secret service, the Secret du Roi. This covert organization working in parallel with the diplomatic service, run by the Comte de Broglie under the exclusive authority of the king and without any control by the Minister of Foreign Affairs, upheld the timehonoured principles of French foreign policy: alliances with Sweden and the Ottoman Empire, a presence in Poland, and hostility towards Russia. The French intervention in America from 1776 therefore had a strong political and ideological dimension, as an opportunity for and instrument of military and diplomatic revenge. Its clear aim was to resist constant acts of aggression by the British. It was also driven by other motives. Britain was dominant in the field of trade. French diplomacy had for many years championed the interests of French subjects in opening up new markets for its products and preserving the trade links that were vital to its 21
Portrait of George III
Cat. 2 Portrait of George III, King of England (1738-1820) Allan Ramsay (1713-1784) Oil on canvas Château de Versailles
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hen he came to the throne in 1760, George III was the first truly British monarch of the House of Hanover. Soon after his coronation on 22 September 1761, he commissioned two portraits from the Scottish artist Allan Ramsay, one depicting him in profile in court dress, and the other in his coronation robes. Ramsay produced numerous copies of the portraits, and his studio became well known for housing many versions at every stage of creation. Copies were dispatched to all the colonies – where they stood in for the royal person – and
to every ambassador, as well as being presented as diplomatic gifts to the sovereigns of Europe. It was a head-and-shoulders version of the portrait in coronation robes that was sent to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs at Versailles, where it was seized during the French Revolution.1 The portrait was subsequently displayed in the historical galleries at the Palace of Versailles under the July Monarchy. This shortened portrait preserved the slightly nonchalant pose of the full-length original, as well as the delicacy of the monarch’s features,
contrasting with the weight of the embroidered robes and ermine cloak, over which the king wore the Order of the Garter. Ramsay appears to have been influenced not so much by Jean-Marc Nattier or Louis-Michel van Loo as by Pompeo Batoni, whom he had met on his first trip to Italy, in 1736-7. V.B.
1. The portrait is mentioned in a manuscript document from year 2, preserved in the Bibliothèque historique de la Ville de Paris (B 17 VP Ms 796, fo 189). 27
French Royal Portraits Cat. 1 Portrait of Louis XV, King of France (1710-1774) François-Hubert Drouais (1727-1775) 1773 Oil on canvas Château de Versailles
pleased God to raise us, we hope that his goodness will sustain our youth and guide us.”1 His youth emerges very clearly from his earliest likenesses. Joseph-Siffred Duplessis painted his portrait in 1775, two years after his accession. He has concentrated on his subject’s features, which he renders smoothly while at the same time suggesting his myopic gaze. The young king wears the insignia of the orders of the Saint-Esprit and the Toison d’Or, and the way he holds his head and shoulders suggests a natural authority that he may not actually have had. His character remains impossible to read: a reserved figure at court, he would annotate his ministers’ reports with apposite comments delivered with serene confidence. His goodness and integrity did not go unnoticed by the American envoys, including Benjamin Franklin: “The King, a young and
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reating portraits of kings and queens is never without problems. A royal portrait must not merely tread the delicate line between faithfulness and flattery, but also has to project the image of the royal person and of the monarchy. One of the rare portraits of Louis XV in old age, painted without a specific commission by François Hubert Drouais, sidesteps this requirement. The king wears simple court dress with the orders of the Saint-Esprit (Holy Spirit) and the Toison d’Or (Holy Fleece), his bicorn hat under his arm. The artist has depicted his
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features heavy with age and his eyes shrunken in their sockets, with a proximity that makes the image more human, almost intimate. The painting was exhibited at the Salon of 1773 before being put on display in the Cabinet du Roi at the Château de Choisy; it entered the collections at Versailles under Louis-Philippe. Louis XVI was just nineteen years old when he came to the throne on the death of his grandfather. The new king made reference to his youth in his first edict: “seated on the throne to which it has
Cat. 5 Portrait of Marie-Antoinette of Austria, Queen of France (1755-1793) Louis-Joseph Duplessis (1725-1802) c.1771 Oil on canvas Château de Versailles
From the Battle of Brandywine to the Battle of Saratoga
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ropaganda – one instrument in the war for public opinion – was to play a major role in the origins and conduct of the American Revolutionary War. Paul Revere’s engraving depicting The Bloody Massacre in King-Street, March 5, 1770, done in that year, is a fanciful but nonetheless effective depiction of an event – the bloody quelling of a riot by British soldiers – that helped to galvanize American hostility towards Great Britain. Over the following five years, resistance to British taxation of the colonies and other punitive measures gained focus through visual depictions of King George III’s servants and soldiers as robotic and brutal oppressors. European engravers and artists, meanwhile, struggled to make sense of events from a distance. After the war began, British, French and German engravers produced mass quantities of poor-quality engravings of George Washington, which bore little resemblance to the man himself but nevertheless earned them substantial profits. Demand for images of the war remained high among Europeans fascinated – or appalled – by the course of events in America. French engraver Nicolas Ponce’s Battle of Lexington (1783) attempted to fix the war’s dramatic first moments several years after they took place, while LouisFrançois Sebastien Fauvel’s Surrender of General Burgoyne at the Battle of Saratoga (1784) sought meaning in the event widely regarded as having brought France into the war. The TeaTax-Tempest, or the Anglo-American Revolution (1778), attributed to Carl Guttenberg, viewed the same events through the lens of satire.
Geography was of course vitally important to the war’s conduct. For many Europeans, however, North America remained literally uncharted territory; most Americans, meanwhile, only understood events in their immediate vicinity. Robert Sayer’s map of The Seat of War in New England (1775) charted the region that gave birth to and sustained revolutionary feeling. As the war expanded beyond New England in 1776, maps such as William Faden’s The Map of the Colonies (1777); The Map of the Action at Gloucester (1777) and Carte réduite des côtes orientales de l’Amérique septentrionales (“Reduced-scale map of the eastern coasts of North America”, 1778) conveyed a continental view of a conflict that would soon become global. Even as global powers such as France, the Netherlands and Spain entered the conflict, the course of events was often determined by human relationships. French volunteers were a common sight in North America in 1777, and George Washington had little use for many of them. The Marquis de Lafayette, however, earned the general’s regard through a small act of sacrifice. During the Battle of Brandywine of 11 September 1777, Lafayette – then serving without rank – sought the front lines during the American defeat and was wounded in the calf by a British musket ball. His subsequent friendship with Washington, depicted in John Vanderlyn’s Washington and La Fayette at the Battle of Brandywine, formed the linchpin of Franco-American comity, and ultimately of victory. E.L.
Cat. 14 The Seat of War in New England Robert Sayer (1725-1794) London, Robert Sayer and John Bennett, 1775 1775 Printed and coloured card edged in blue silk Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France
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The Declaration of Independence EDMOND DZIEMBOWSKI
In 1768, while planning a war to strike back at Britain, the Duc de Choiseul, the French Minister for Foreign Affairs, sent Baron de Kalb to America to sound out the colonists on their attitudes to the mother country. But the reports that the minister received back from his agent were disappointing, to say the least. Despite detecting some stirrings of revolt here and there, Kalb judged that “the firebrands [will not] prevail”1 since London would always appease tensions through concessions. That was precisely the strategy pursued by Lord North, George III’s prime minister, as soon as he took office. In March 1770, North abolished all customs duties for goods entering the colonies, with the exception of the commodity that brought in the most revenue, namely tea. North viewed this as a gift to the Americans, but he had unwittingly provided the fuel that would set the New World ablaze. For beneath the ashes, the embers were smouldering. Kalb may have been sceptical about the possibility of an imminent revolt, but he emphasized the “great spirit of independence and liberty [possessed by] all individuals in this country”, which would lead, sooner or later, to “an independent state”.2 On 16 December 1773, the inhabitants of the major port of Boston attacked the ships of the East India Company and threw their cargoes of tea overboard. This event, which would go down in history as the Boston Tea Party, triggered a crisis that would overthrow British America in less than three years. In spring 1774, the British Parliament passed a series of measures, the severity of which was disproportionate to the crime committed. By virtue of these “Intolerable Acts”, as they were referred to in Britain, the port of Boston was closed until compensation for the damages was paid; the charter establishing the Massachusetts Bay Colony was revoked; the governor’s powers were increased; and the colonists’ legal guarantees were curtailed. On 5 September 1774, the First Continental Congress, attended by delegates from twelve of the thirteen colonies, met in Philadelphia to agree on a response to what they considered were despotic measures taken by Britain. This congress was undoubtedly the first act of the American Revolution. It considered itself a supra-colonial body and immediately began to challenge London’s authority. Revolution was also stirring in each of the thirteen colonies, as, one after another, they established provincial congresses and began to defy the governor’s authority. In Massachusetts, the situation was particularly muddled. Entrenched in the town of Concord, not far from Boston, the members of the provincial congress continued to sit in session, in defiance of the orders of the governor, General Gage. On 19 April 1775, Gage sent his troops to drive the congressmen out of Concord. The redcoats encountered a band of militiamen in Lexington, before falling into an ambush on the way in to Concord. Upon learning of the humiliation at Lexington and Concord, followed by the Battle of Bunker Hill (17 June 1775), George III sent reinforcements to America. The Congress reconvened in spring 1775 and prepared for war, handing command of its troops to George Washington. The sword was drawn. This would be a fight to the bitter end. As the Virginian patriot Patrick Henry declared: “Give me liberty or give me death!” Was it a war of independence? The overriding feeling, both in London and Philadelphia, was that it was a fratricidal war. Up until winter 1775-6, there was nothing to suggest that the thirteen colonies were going to break free. Indeed, the flag adopted by George Washington’s Continental Army comprised the Union Flag in the top-left corner in addition to the thirteen red and white stripes (one for each of the 46
AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE AT VERSAILLES (1776-1778) 57
Independence at the heart of diplomacy British Ministries EDMOND DZIEMBOWSKI
On 16 August 1776, a news gazette entitled Affaires de l’Angleterre et de l’Amérique1 broke the news of the Declaration of Independence to its French readership. The editor, Edme Jacques Genet, laid stress on the exceptional nature of this development: “I am in receipt, Monsieur, of a translation of the proceedings of the American General Congress of 4 July. It is without question the most important event of the campaign, of the war even, and perhaps of the century. I shall transcribe it here in its entirety, as none of it should be omitted. Such texts and subversions of Empire are happily the rarest of events.”2 It was thus through a pamphlet published through official channels at Versailles that this founding text was made known to the French public, for Genet was working to the command of the Comte de Vergennes, Secretary of State for Foreign Affaires. A fierce champion of absolute monarchy, Vergennes had never shown the remotest interest in new ideas. The fact that he gave his imprimatur to the Declaration of Independence might therefore seem surprising. But strange as it may seem at first sight, this decision was in fact part of a policy that led to France entering America’s war. A war of revenge had been envisaged by the Duc de Choiseul as early as the immediate aftermath of the peace treaty of 1763. But the accession to the throne of Louis XVI, who had been educated in the principles of Fénelon, seemed to make the prospect less likely. The reforms undertaken by the Controller-General of Finance let it be understood that Louis’s reign would be one of peace, moreover: as Turgot would observe, “the first cannonball fired would force the State into bankruptcy”.3 Haunted by Britain’s ambition to rule over the “empire of the seas”, Vergennes took a different view. As the months went by, he watched with satisfaction as the obstacles to French intervention crumbled. Turgot, champion of the proponents of peace, fell from grace in May 1776. This coincided with the publication of the first issue of Affaires de l’Angleterre et de l’Amérique. The press campaign aimed at preparing the French people for a war of revenge had been launched. Louis XVI was beginning to falter in his Fénelon-inspired convictions, moreover. On 18 October 1776, he confided to Vergennes, “I believe that we will not have war, at least not in our time”.4 The possibility of war was thus admitted. But where, and against whom? “If we are forced to wage war on Britain, it must be to defend our possessions and to bring down British power, not with any idea of territorial expansion on our own part, but solely as an attempt to destroy their commerce and to undermine their strength by supporting the rebellion and separation of the colonies.”5 Louis XVI was clearly prepared to lend his support to the rebellious subjects of a ruling sovereign. Yet when he wrote these lines he had already read the Declaration of Independence, whose Locke-inspired tone might well have given him pause. Not once did he make reference in his correspondence to the political ideas of the rebels. It was as though they were quite anodyne, as far as France was concerned at least. In Britain, meanwhile, internal events encouraged Vergennes and Louis XVI to view the future with confidence. The columns of Affaires de l’Angleterre et de l’Amérique, 58
Portraits of Ministers
Cat. 23 Portrait of Charles-Eugène Lacroix, Marquis de Castries (1727-1801), Secretary of State for the Navy Unknown artist, eighteenth century After 1783 Oil on canvas Paris, musée national de la Marine
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n Britain, the period of the American Revolution was dominated by the figure of Lord Frederick North, Earl of Guilford. Prime minister from 1770 to March 1782, he was strongly supported by George III. Contemporary historiography recognizes his good intentions during the early years of the war.1 But the degree of mobilization among the American colonists was hard to evaluate from London, and neither North nor the king – nor anyone among their circles – had been to North America. The governors who were sent out there, meanwhile, were too preoccupied with making their own fortunes and transposing their British way of life to the colonies to concern themselves with the realities of life in the New World. Nathaniel Dance painted North’s portrait in 1773-4, after a trip to Italy during which he worked in the studio of Pompeo Batoni. The prime minister is depicted wearing his robes as Chancellor of Oxford University with the Order of the Garter. The highly successful composition makes effective use of his personal presence; a drapery confers an element of decorum, but the ease with which the artist suggests the vitality of his subject recalls the fact that Dance, after
Cat. 21 Portrait of Charles Gravier, Comte de Vergennes (1719-1787), Ministry of Foreign Affairs Antoine-François Callet (1741-1823) c.1781 Oil on canvas Château de Versailles
William Hogarth, was a specialist in conversation pieces, informal group portraits portraying their subjects involved in genteel social activities. The ministers whom Louis XVI relied upon as North’s opposite numbers included notably Charles Gravier, Comte de Vergennes, Minister of Foreign Affairs from 1774 until his death in 1787. Vergennes, according to the historian JeanChristian Petitfils, was “slow, dull, stingy, irritable, disobliging to his subordinates, obsessive [and] soporific”2, although he did at least have the merit of being “passionately devoted to the public good, and capable of going against his legendary indecisiveness, anxiety and failure to act with a few forceful and well-framed measures. This timid and fretful man, who was nonetheless far more tenacious than Maurepas, proved to be an excellent and prudent negotiator.” Vergennes was chosen by Louis XVI not only for his experience as a diplomat in Constantinople and Stockholm, but also for his common sense and shrewdness. Although Callet does not portray him with the aristocratic ease of the British prime minister, he presents himself with the confidence of a dogged and methodical worker who ran his ministry with a firm hand while also relying on the support of
networks at court. In late 1777, Vergennes was won over by the pro-war faction and persuaded Louis XVI to ally himself with the American colonists, even without Spanish support. Louis XVI also enjoyed good relations with Antoine Gabriel de Sartine, appointed Secretary of State for the Navy in 1774. Sartine had led the navy’s recovery and the preparations for war, and his work was appreciated, even if the Abbé de Véri, a commentator on life at court, noted that “those who refuse to acknowledge his brilliance by attributing everything to his subordinates do not deny his industry and application. He is accused of wanting war at sea in order to become the most important figure in the ministry.”3 In 1780 he was replaced by Charles Eugène Lacroix, Duc de Castries, an accomplished military man who had led several campaigns during the reign of Louis XV. Described by the Duc de Croÿ, Marshal of France, as “very simple and not at all minister material”,4 Castries was to lead the French military for the final three years of the war of Independence. V.B. 1. Trevelyan, in Whiteley, 1996, p. 129. 2. Petitfils, 2005, vol. 1, p. 416. 3. Véri, 1928-1930, vol. 2, p. 62. roÿ-Sorle, 1906-1907, vol. 4, on the Duc de Castries, 4. C p. 229.
Cat. 22 Portrait bust of Antoine Gabriel de Sartine, Minister for the Navy Jean-Baptiste Defernex (1729-1783) 1767 Marble Château de Versailles
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The American Representatives at Versailles VALÉRIE BAJOU
On 26 September 1776, Congress sent the merchant Silas Deane to France to buy weapons, ammunition and uniforms. In addition, it also appointed Benjamin Franklin, a self-taught physicist, and Arthur Lee, a doctor of medicine who had studied law in London, as representatives to the court at Versailles. Lee was the only one of the three to speak fluent French, hence the important part played by Conrad Alexandre Gérard, chief clerk to Vergennes, who spoke fluent English. The differences between the representatives were so marked that disagreements rapidly made themselves felt, but continuity was assured by Benjamin Franklin, who was to remain in Paris for eight years. His first secret interview with Vergennes took place as early as 28 December 1776.
Cat. 32 “Portrait of Silas Deane” in Portraits of Generals, Ministers and Magistrates Benoit Louis Prevost (1747-1804) after Pierre Eugène Du Simitière (1736 or 1737-84) Paris, 1781 Print Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France
Cat. 139 Constitution of the Thirteen United States of America Louis Alexandre de La Rochefoucault d’Enville (1743-1792) Philadelphia, Paris, Ph.-D. Pierres, Pissot, père & fils, 1783 Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France
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Vergennes was wary of what he viewed as the insatiable nature of American diplomacy, which was led by amateurs who were at best indifferent to French interests and at worst hostile to them. Louis XVI also kept them at arm’s length, writing to his minister: “I do not wish to see them.” The lack of trust between the two parties was considerable, especially as both sides were also engaged in direct negotiations with London. News of the American victory at Saratoga was to alter this relationship. On 11 December 1777, Vergennes wrote: “His Majesty desires it to be made known to the American representatives residing in France that whereas considerations pertaining to his own situation, as also to the position of public matters, have not hitherto allowed him to accede to the requests that they have claimed the authority to make, or to offer to them, and to their nation the public marks of the interest that His Majesty has always been advised to lend their cause, circumstances now appear more favourable to the establishment of close intelligence between the crown and the United Provinces of Northern America.”1 This remarkable meeting took place on 20 March 1778. Lee was expecting more pomp and circumstance, but the Duc de Croÿ was fully aware of the significance of the event that unfolded: “At the royal lever I found the famous Franklin in the Salon de Œilde-Bœuf [the antechamber to the king’s bedchamber at Versailles], with the other two American representatives, surrounded by a crush of people who were impressed by the importance of this spectacle. […] Entering the Bedchamber at noon, led by M. de Vergennes, we ushered in the American representatives. […] M. de Vergennes presented Mr Franklin, Mr Deane and Mr Lee, and two other Americans. The King spoke first, and with greater care and grace than I had ever heard before. He said: ‘Assure Congress of my friendship. I hope that this will be for the good of both our nations!’” With great dignity, Mr Franklin thanked him in the name of America, and said; “Your Majesty may count upon the gratitude and loyalty of Congress in the engagements that he undertakes!”2 The Duc de Croÿ went on to add: “Thus they treated with each other, nation to nation, and France was the first to accord full recognition to Congress, and to Independence. What reflections this great event prompted! First of all, if it were successful it would be a cruel blow to Britain, and a great boon to our economy. Then, implacable war, and perhaps the creation of land larger than our own that might one day subjugate Europe.”3 The American cause was also played out in Paris, in the Hôtel de Valentinois in Passy, where Franklin and the delegation were guests of the merchant Le Ray de Chaumont. Arthur Lee, never an easy character, stayed only from 1776 to 1779. John Adams, meticulously precise jurist, joined the delegation briefly in 1778 and again in 1783, when he met up again with John Jay, who had been there since 1782. Finally, Thomas Jefferson was appointed ambassador in 1784.
Arthur Lee, Diplomat
Cat. 41 Portrait of Arthur Lee, Diplomat (1740-1792) Charles Willson Peale (1741-1827) c.1785 Oil on canvas Philadelphia, National Park Service, Courtesy of Independence National Historical Park Collection
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nspired by eighteenth-century Enlightenment ideals that celebrated humankind’s capacity to learn and use new information, artist Charles Willson Peale created his Philadelphia Museum in the years following the American Revolution. In his museum, Peale intended the works of man and nature to co-exist for the education of all. To that end, it included painted portraits of contemporaries whom Peale dubbed “worthy personages”, selected from among contemporary soldiers, scientists, artists, and statesmen. Peale’s earliest portrait subjects for the museum’s collections included many of the Revolution’s leading figures. 66
America’s first major battlefield victory at Saratoga, New York, in October 1777 brought several European governments into the conflict against their old enemy, Britain. Although American diplomats had previously petitioned both France and Spain for support, no formal acknowledgment of the American was given until Saratoga proved the viability of the American military. In February 1778, America and France pledged their mutual support against Britain with the Treaty of Alliance and the Treaty of Amity and Commerce. Among those who brokered the treaties, Arthur Lee had represented American interests in various European
capitals since the outbreak of the Revolution. Educated abroad, Lee studied law and wrote political tracts supporting colonial concerns. A lover of intrigue, he held several foreign diplomatic posts during the Revolution’s early years. Lee returned to America a year after the Alliance to take appointed office. Peale probably painted his portrait when Lee visited Philadelphia after concluding several treaties with Native American tribes in the Northwest Territory. He depicted him wearing his brown coat with braided closures, blue embroidered waistcoat, white stock and lace jabot, with his powdered hair tied in a K.D. queue with black ribbon.
Franklin by Carmontelle
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either his origins nor his education seemed to destine Benjamin Franklin for fame and glory, yet this universal man – polymath, physicist, printer, journalist, author and diplomat – had the unique distinction of putting his signature to all four of the founding documents of the United States: the Declaration of Independence in 1776; the Treaty of Alliance with France in 1778; the Treaty of Paris of 1783; and the Constitution of 1787. At seventy years old, he made a highly favourable impression on the Parisian elite. The Duc de Croÿ described him as “an extremely fine-looking man, with long white hair, […] and something of the Quaker in his appearance”.1 Everyone stressed the simplicity of his appearance, and the effective use he made of it. He was the most depicted of the representatives, dressed in his customary dark brown suit and with his hair falling unpowdered to his shoulders, eschewing all the trappings of luxury and faithful to the reputation for simplicity that surrounded the new republic. This was how the Duc de Chartres’s drawing master, Carmontelle, chose to draw him. Carmontelle entertained the guests at the Palais-Royal by sketching their portraits from life. He drew Franklin seated and in profile, in a setting of a grandeur that contrasts with the modesty of his appearance. The composition reinforces his presence, the profile accentuating the strength of his convictions. He is not depicted here as a scholar, but rather as a statesman, with his tricorn hat resting on the laws of Pennsylvania. The engraving that was taken from the drawing was moreover given the title We have seen him disarm Tyrants and Gods. Rather than aspiring to the emblematic quality of formal portraits, this watercolour sketch insists on realism and authenticity in its depiction of Franklin. It conveys an impression of the goodness and optimism remarked upon by his contemporaries, who noted that he “loved and sought simplicity in all things, and in his possessions as in his life valued only authentic pleasures. He valued things only for their usefulness or their convenience.”2 V.B. 1. Journal du duc de Croÿ, vol. 3, p. 295. 2. Notes de l’abbé de La Roche, Paris, bibliothèque de l’Institut, mss 2222, f° 77, quoted by Fohlen, 2000, p. 305.
Cat. 37 Portrait of Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790) Louis Carrogis, called “Carmontelle” (1717-1806) 1780-1 Ink, pencil and watercolour Washington, National Portrait Gallery, Smithsonian Institution
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The Portrait of Marquis de Lafayette by Casanova
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his portrait of Marie Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, commemorates his service in the Virginia campaign of the American Revolutionary War. He is depicted as a major general in the United States Continental Army and holds a scroll of a map of Virginia. The Marquis de Lafayette played a decisive role in the victory of the combined American and French forces over British General Charles Cornwallis’s army at the critical Battle of Yorktown on 17 October 1781. This gouache may be the study for a very similar portrait in oils of Lafayette by Francesco Giuseppe Casanova at the New York Historical Society, dated c.1781-5.1 Both portraits share Casanova’s compositional style, spatial structure, and imagery. Francesco Giuseppe Casanova (brother of the famed adventurer and writer Giacomo Casanova, and – like Lafayette – a Freemason) was a cosmopolitan artist, well known for his grand, historic battle scenes and portraits, who held the title “Peintre du Roi” and was admitted to the Paris Royal Academy in 1763. P.S.
1. New York Historical Society curatorial record, no. 1939.9.
Cat. 70 Lafayette in American Uniform Attributed to Francesco Giuseppe Casanova (1727-1803) c.1784 Gouache Paris, fondation Josée et René de Chambrun
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Lafayette and Washington: a Masonic Bridge between Two Continents? STÉPHANE CECCALDI
The eighteenth century was an age of new ideas and reflections on how to better the human condition, and of intellectual movements, many of them pondering the means by which the progress that was envisaged might be effectively applied. Freemasonry found its place quite naturally at the heart of the Enlightenment: after a history in Scotland going back to over a century earlier, the first Grand Lodge was set up in London in 1717, and in only a few years it spread to Europe – including France around 1728-35 – and America, then still a British colony. The exact date when the Marquis de Lafayette became a Freemason is unknown, but on 25 December 1775 he was mentioned as a “visitor” – hence already a Freemason – at the opening of the La Candeur lodge. The young soldier was probably initiated into masonry in his regiment at Metz in the summer of 1775, following the example of many of his friends and relations, including notably the Comte de Ségur, the Prince de Poix, the Comte de Lameth, the Duc de Chartres, later Grand Master of the Grand Orient of France, and the widow and friends of the philosopher Helvétius. Before his initial departure for America in 1777, Lafayette met another mason, Benjamin Franklin.1 Spending three days in secret at the Chaillot residence of Baron Kalb, before leaving for Bordeaux and the expedition on the Victoire, he spent the evening of 7 December 1776 with his host and Silas Deane and Benjamin Franklin, and it was probably during this dinner that he received a recommendation from Franklin for a meeting with George Washington.2 It is reasonable to ask, therefore, whether Freemasonry was one of the vectors for the promotion of the cause of American independence, both in America and in Europe, albeit without always acting solely to the benefit of the rebels.3
Cat. 52 French Masonic apron belonging to the Marquis de Lafayette Late eighteenth century Embroidered silk and canetille work Paris, fondation Josée et René de Chambrun
The masonic ideals of freedom and social progress coincided with the aims of the leading figures in the Revolutionary War: Lafayette and Washington were both shaped by them, and both devoted themselves wholeheartedly to their application in lodges. The speed with which the two men met, within a month of Lafayette’s arrival in America, when Washington’s presence was in very high demand, speaks of a genuine meeting of minds on the intellectual, not to say the philosophical, level. In Paris, Benjamin Franklin attained the rank of Venerable, presiding over the famous Neuf Sœurs lodge between 1779 and 1781, while eagerly frequenting masonic circles in France in order to spread the ideas of the American rebels. The members of this lodge also frequented court circles, so it was not surprising that some of the ideas and views discussed at masonic meetings should also be familiar to the most influential figures at Versailles. Lafayette, Washington and Franklin would champion their cause wholeheartedly at masonic meetings, and it became widely known among Freemasons in both America and France. In the summer of 1776 a lodge in Paris was even reprimanded by the Grand Orient of France for drinking a toast to celebrate the declaration of Independence. So close were the two men intellectually that Washington remarked that Lafayette was like his son, while the younger man considered him as his father. The closeness of their relationship was only to strengthen over the years. Lafayette stayed with his friend at Mount Vernon during his trip of 1784-5, and on his last journey to America in 1824-5 he was welcomed by numerous masonic lodges.
Cat. 51 American Masonic apron belonging to the Marquis de Lafayette United States, first quarter of the nineteenth century Printed silk and silk braid Paris, fondation Josée et René de Chambrun
NOTES 1. Benjamin Franklin was initiated in Febuary 1731 at the age of twenty-five in Philadelphia where he was a printer. In 1733, he published the first american version of Anderson’s Constitutions, founding text of the modern freemasonry from 1723. 2. George Washington was initiated on Novembre, 4, 1752 at the age of twenty-one. He became Venerable of the Lodge Alexandria, south of Washington 3. Cornwallis, who got defeated at Yorktown, and the general Philipps, were also freemasons. 87
Cat. 114 Map of the part of Virginia where the combined armies of France and the Unites States made prisoners of the British army Paris, Esnault et Rapilly, 1781 Printed and coloured card Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, département des Cartes et Plans
A new war effort on a larger scale on the part of the French navy had to be agreed in order to establish North American superiority over the might of the Royal Navy, while accepting that the French fleet would be only an auxiliary to the Spanish navy, just as Rochambeau was an auxiliary to the Americans. This was the significance of the instructions issued in March 1781 to the Comte de Grasse, who had scarcely returned from the Caribbean before he received the unexpected order to assume command of the French fleet under preparation at Brest. On 22 March 1781, the French fleet mounted one of the most magnificent spectacles in the whole of French naval history, as twenty ships commanded by Admiral de Grasse and five by M. de Suffren sailed out of Brest, providing a show of naval strength that was to be pivotal to the French war effort in America and the West Indies. It also offered an opportunity to take stock of its limitations, as lack of time and funds had made it impossible to sheathe more than half the hulls in copper, whereas the whole of the British fleet already boasted this advantage that helped to keep their hulls cleaner and therefore meant they could go faster. But a French naval force on this scale crossing the Atlantic was unprecedented. Since the year before, five thousand men under the command of Rochambeau had been waiting in Newport for the moment when they could go into battle alongside Washington’s men.
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Once his fleet reached the West Indies, de Grasse led the first combined operations, first at Saint Lucia and then at Tobago, while the Spanish – with the aid of French ships already in the area – completed the business of expelling the British from Florida. It was too close to hurricane season to consider a joint attack on Jamaica, and the fleet was forced to sail out of the Antilles in order to shelter from the late summer storms. Admiral de Grasse secured the permission and financial support of the Spanish to sail to the North American coast, which enabled him to fulfill the other part of his mission: to establish the superiority of Washington’s Continental Army and to cooperate with it. In response to a request from Rochambeau, who was himself repeating a suggestion made by Louis XVI’s representative to the rebels, the Chevalier de La Luzerne, he chose to sail to Chesapeake Bay in Virginia, a state where British troops were fighting the Americans under Lafayette. By sailing northwards with virtually his full strength, leaving the French islands under the protection of the Spanish and embarking 3300 men at Santo Domingo, de Grasse was able to take the British by surprise. Admiral Hood, who had also sailed from the West Indies, arrived first off the headlands of Virginia, and as he could see no ships assumed that the French fleet had sailed to mount an attack on New York. Sailing on northwards, he left the immense gulf of Chesapeake Bay, the confluence of a number of major rivers, wide open to the French.
Cat. 115 Plan of Cornwallis’s army Georges-Louis Le Rouge (1712-1790) 1781 Printed and coloured card Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France
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INDEPENDENCE IN FRANCE AND THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY 169
The Pursuit of Happiness John Trumbull and Battle Paintings TANYA POHRT
John Trumbull first discussed documenting the American Revolution while stu dying painting in Benjamin West’s London studio in 1784. Three years had passed since the conclusion of the war, and once his artistic skills were honed Trumbull saw an opportunity to create meaningful history paintings for the new nation. He had fought in the Revolution, serving as a second aide-de-camp to George Washington and attaining the rank of colonel. Trumbull came from a prominent Connecticut family (his father had been governor of Connecticut from 1769 to1784), and he was well aquainted with the principal participants in the Revolution. This combi nation of experience, connections, and training made Trumbull uniquely qualified to create a pictorial document of the American Revolution. The artist began by painting The Death of General Warren at the Battle of Bunker’s Hill and The Death of General Montgomery in the Attack on Quebec, two theatrical battle scenes from early in the war, each centred on a heroic death. Both reveal the influence of contemporary British history painting, specifically the work of Benjamin West and John Singleton Copley. During his studies in London, Trumbull also absorbed British entrepreneurial strategies related to exhibitions and print production. Benjamin West had earned three times as much from the print of the Battle of La Hogue as he did from selling the painting. Following this model, Trumbull reasoned that “The Battle of Bunker’s Hill –Trenton– the 7th of October –Saratoga– Yorktown would certainly tempt many of our Countrymen as well as Europeans.”1 Trumbull’s Revolutionary War project was speculative, begun without a commission, but the artist hoped that prints of the first few compositions would finance subsequent paintings. Quality engravings were expensive and slow to produce, however, and Trumbull struggled with logistical hurdles and the challenge of finding subscribers to finance the project.
Cat. 150 Letter to George Washington John Trumbull (1756-1843) Lebanon, 18 March 1776 Autograph letter New York, Fordham University Library
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Trumbull’s Revolutionary project languished for a number of years amid political dis cord, during which time he focused on portraiture and diplomatic work, participating in the John Jay Treaty Commission in London in the late 1790s and several business ventures. Following an outpouring of nationalist enthusiasm after the War of 1812, Trumbull spotted an opportunity to resurrect his stalled Revolutionary War series. In late 1816 and early 1817, he called on his political allies in Congress to commis sion him to decorate government buildings with his scenes from the Revolution. One supporter was John S. Cogdell, who wrote, “I believe I hope the Col. contemplates interesting Congress on this subject[.] What subject should more promptly animate them to the Encouragement of Native Genious [sic] thro” national subjects – what more interesting to the nation than the Declaration of Independence. What crisis in our History so pregnant with importance – admiration – wonder – doubt – exultation and zeal. I would feel more proud in giving my voice for the Execution of this design upon a proper scale for Washington than had I voted for the declaration of War in 1812, and there was no act of any Congress hitherto I more approved than I did the Declaration of War.”2 Cogdell conveys a sense of pride in America’s victory over Great Britain in this second war for independence, which provided Americans with a renewed sense of patri otism.3 The election of James Monroe in the spring of 1817 brought a feeling of consen sus to the country, with Monroe’s inaugural tour ushering in an “era of good feelings”.
Different Versions of the Battles TANYA POHRT
In 1785, the American artist John Trumbull initiated his life’s great work, a series of paintings depicting key events in the American Revolution. In the late 1780s and 1790s he painted small versions, sized to facilitate transport and engraving, creating larger paintings later, when Congress commissioned four scenes for the US Capitol Rotunda in Washington DC in 1817.1 Trumbull began in 1785 with the Death of General Warren at the Battle of Bunker’s Hill, which he considered the first important battle of the war and had witnessed at first hand, albiet from a distance. It was not an American military victory, but the painting commemorated the brave participants and conveyed a message of chivalry on the battlefield that transcended national alli ances. In the finished composition, a grenadier moves to stab the dying American General Warren, but British Major John Small pushes the bayonet away, honouring the dignity of his fallen enemy. Trumbull composed this scene while studying under Benjamin West in London, and it was probably West who first suggested the idea of a Revolutionary series to him.2 In an early sketch for Bunker’s Hill (cat. 151), Trumbull initially placed the Warren group on the right side and a pair of soldiers fleeing on the left. He later reversed the composition and shifted the focus in order to emphasize Small’s chivalry. In Trumbull’s view it was essential that the portraits in these historical scenes be as accurate as possible. In late 1787 the artist returned to Paris to paint Jefferson from life in the small Declaration and to portray the French officers in the Surrender of Lord Cornwallis at Yorktown, the final battle of the war. Trumbull struggled with the composition for Yorktown, and an early painted study for the scene depicts a rear view of Cornwallis’s assistant, General Charles O’Hara. French forces stand to the left, with General Rochambeau partially sketched on his horse, while American troops gather on the right, with Washington standing close to the centre background. In the finished composition, Trumbull rectified the awkward placing of O’Hara, so that the British officer faced forwards, leading the defeated British forces between the lines of victors. Interrupting his work on the Revolutionary War series, Trumbull painted The Sortie Made by the Garrison of Gibraltar for public exhibition in London in the spring
Cat. 151 Study for The Death of General Warren at the Battle of Bunker’s Hill John Trumbull (1756-1843) September 1785 Brush and black wash, pen and brown ink New Haven, Yale University Art Gallery
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of 1789. Knowing that the American war would not appeal to British audiences, Trumbull depicted a British victory over Spain after the Spanish attempt to seize control of Gibraltar in 1782. Trumbull viewed the exhibition as a test, and as the culmination of his artistic studies in London.3 His paintings were well received, and he returned to America soon afterwards, writing to Thomas Jefferson on 11 June 1789: “The greatest motive I had or have for […] continuing my pursuit of painting, has been the wish of commemorating the great events of our country’s revolution.”4 The American artist John Trumbull was in Paris in 1789, witnessing the storming of the Bastille and the beginning of the French Revolution. Shortly thereafter, the Marquis de Lafayette entrusted Trumbull with important information, asking him to transmit plans and ideas to George Washington, so that the President of the United States could be “accurately informed of the state and the prospects of affairs in France”.1 Several years later, Trumbull had progressed with his series of paintings docu menting the American Revolution, and asked Washington to champion his project on an international level. Given the shared ideals and close kinship between France and the United States, Trumbull hoped that Lafayette and others in France would subscribe to purchase his prints. Washington’s letter, written on 21 November 1792, shifts between praise and support for his old friend Trumbull and optimism about the latest events occuring in the French Revolution. Peace was years away, however, and Lafayette’s exile and imprisonment left him temporarily unable to assist with Trumbull’s artistic ventures.
Cat. 154 The Death of General Warren at the Battle of Bunker’s Hill, 17 June 1775 John Trumbull (1756-1843) Between 1815 and 1831 Oil on canvas Boston, Museum of Fine Arts
NOTES 1. See New Haven, 2008, pp. 80-106. 2. The loss of the American colonies was too politically sensitive for West, history painter to King George III, to execute himself. See Prown, 1982, pp. 28-9. 3. See Prown, 1982, pp. 35-7. 4. L etter form John Trumbull to Thomas Jefferson, London, 11 June 1789, in Trumbull, 1841, pp. 158-62. 5. Trumbull, 1841, p. 151. 175
Cat. 167 Rochambeau, Lafayette and their Headquarters at Yorktown Auguste Couder (1790-1873) c.1837 Oil on cardboard Blérancourt, musée franco-américain du château de Blérancourt Cat. 168 Study for The Siege of Yorktown Auguste Couder (1790-1873) c.1837 Oil on cardboard Blérancourt, musée franco-américain du château de Blérancourt
wholehearted support of the French. A sketch preserved at Blérancourt shows a composition that has been reversed, with the figures distri buted more equally. Like most of the artists featured in the Galerie des Batailles, Auguste Couder was the pupil of a pupil of David. This generation of artists worked quickly, with a technical mastery chara cterized by brushwork that was at once smooth and dynamic. The many commissions for paintings at this period gave artists an unprece dented breadth of experience: whereas under the Restoration the nation’s history had mostly been depicted in the minor context of Troubadour painting, here the transition from the anecdo
tal to a historicist approach was complete. The message was expressed through clear composi tions, often comprising a central major action flanked by two symmetrically arranged groups. But while the overall effect was sumptuous, as here, it was nonetheless rigid, subject as it was to the strictly laid-down uniformity required of both formats and frames. V.B.
1. Gaehtgens, 1984, p. 214. 189
Versailles and the American Revolution
It was at Versailles that American independence was decided… It was at Versailles that Louis XVI declared to the representatives of the Second Continental Congress that he recognized their independence. It was from Versailles that orders were sent committing France to the side of the rebels against Great Britain, so transforming a colonial uprising into a world war. It was at Versailles, finally, that the treaty putting an end to the war was signed in 1783. This is the great adventure – human, political and diplomatic – that this work invites us to follow. Alive with the distant echoes of events that were to prove decisive for the entire world, it reveals the extent to which France helped to promote the new ideas on which the United States was building a new world. In relating the story of the American Revolutionary War, these studies – by British, American, Spanish and French curators, researchers and historians – go beyond national views and the Franco-American dialogue to paint a picture of a remarkably cosmopolitan century, as well as investigating the legacy of the American Revolution, which was to prove a fertile source of inspiration for artists.
978-2-35340-246-5
39,00 €