in Tarrytown, October 21, 1754, dying near Livingstonville, August 2,
1831. He served under Montgomery in the expedition to Canada, and
remained actively in the service until disabled by frozen feet. Many of
the details of the capture of André that we have, are from Williams’s
sworn statement, made on the day following, when everything was
perfectly fresh in his mind. He passed the closing years of his life on
a farm in the Catskills, that had belonged to the leader of Shays’s
rebellion, and it is still in the occupancy of Williams’s descendants. A
monument has been erected to his memory, by the State of New York, near
Schoharie Court House.
Browere had great trouble in securing Williams’s mask.
[Illustration: DAVID WILLIAMS
Age 75]
Twice he went by sloop and on foot for this purpose to the latter’s home
at Schoharie, only to find the veteran absent. Finally, in 1829,
Williams visited General Delavan, at Peekskill, and sent Browere word,
whereupon the artist went thither and took the mask, the only portrait
extant of the sturdy patriot.
Therefore to Browere’s art,--or “process,” whichever one pleases,--we
owe, among other causes for congratulation, the possession of the only
authenticated likenesses of Paulding, Williams and Van Wart, the three
pure and unyielding patriots who captured the unfortunate André, and
who, “leaning only on their virtue and an honest sense of their duty,
could not be tempted by gold.” Thereby they saved Washington and his
army from capture, and possibly preserved the infant nation from a
return to servitude. Each one of them received the thanks of Congress,
and from the State of New York a two-hundred-acre farm. “Vincit amor
patriæ.”
[Illustration]
V
_Discovery of the Life Mask of Jefferson_
I had been familiar, for years, with the tragic story told by Henry S.
Randall, in his ponderous life of President Jefferson,[2] of how the
venerated sage of Monticello, within a year of his decease, was nearly
suffocated, by “an artist from New York,” by name Browere, who had
attempted to take a mask of his living features; and how, in fear of
bodily harm from the ex-President’s irate black body-servant, “the
artist shattered his cast in an instant,” and was glad to depart quickly
with the fragments which he was permitted to pick up.
This unvarnished tale, copied word for word, was put into the mouth of
Clark Mills, the sculptor, by Ben Perley Poore, and published by him,
some years later, under the caption of “Jefferson’s Danger.” With these
statements fixed in my mind, I came across, while searching for
information anent my article on the “Life Portraits of Thomas
Jefferson,”[3] a letter from James Madison to Henry D. Gilpin, written
October 25, 1827, in which Madison writes, respecting Jefferson’s
appearance, “Browere’s bust in plaster, from his mode of taking it, will
probably show a perfect likeness.”[4]
I was struck by the utter inconsistency of Randall’s circumstantial
account of the shattered cast, picked up in fragments, with Madison’s
pointed observations upon “Browere’s bust,” as being in existence
fifteen months after Jefferson’s death.
The latter directly negatived the former.
This made it both interesting and important to ascertain the exact
status of the subject, by tracing it to and from the fountain source, a
task I found comparatively easy through the calendars of Jefferson and
Madison Papers, in the State Department, at Washington. From an
examination of these manuscripts, together with the newspapers of the
time, it was clearly to be seen that Mr. Randall’s method of writing
history, was to accept and repeat irresponsible country gossip, rather
than to turn to documents at his hand, that would explain and refute the
gossip.
The existence at one time of the bust of Jefferson, from Browere’s life
mask, being thus established, the next and more difficult quest was to
discover its whereabouts, if still extant. I instituted a systematic
search, that gained for me among my friends the sobriquet of Sherlock
Holmes, and my persistency was finally rewarded not only by the
discovery of this bust of Jefferson, but also of all the other busts
that had remained in Browere’s possession at the time of his death. They
were in the custody of a granddaughter of the artist, on a farm near
Rome, New York.
The positive statement of Randall, frequently repeated by others, the
last time unequivocally by Mr. Laurence Hutton, in his “Portraits in
Plaster,” that Browere’s mask from Jefferson’s face was _destroyed_, and
the indisputable fact that the bust from the perfect mask _exists_ and
is here reproduced, cause the incidents connected with the taking of
this original life mask, to have an importance that justifies recording
them at length, so that there may remain no possibility for further
question or doubt on the subject. My authorities are Jefferson, Madison
and Browere, as preserved in their own autographs, in the State
Department, at Washington.
Thomas Jefferson was born in 1743 and died in 1826, on the
semi-centennial of the adoption of the immortal instrument of which he
is the recognized father. Through the intercession of President Madison,
his friend, neighbor and successor in the chair of state, Jefferson
consented, in Browere’s words, “to submit to the ordeal of my new and
perfect mode of taking the human features and form.” For this purpose
Browere visited Monticello, on the fifteenth of October, 1825. At this
time Jefferson was eighty-two years of age and was suffering the
infirmities incident to his advanced years. During the operation, he was
attended by his faithful man-servant Burwell, who prepared him for “the
ordeal,” by removing all of his clothing to the waist, excepting his
undershirt, from which the sleeves were cut. He was then placed on his
back, and the material applied down to the waist, including both arms
folded across the body. The entire procedure lasted ninety minutes, with
rests every ten or fifteen minutes, during which rests Jefferson got up
and walked about. The material was on Jefferson’s face for eighteen
minutes, and the whole of the mould of his features was removed
therefrom in three minutes. This was accomplished before the alarmed
entrance of his granddaughters, the Misses Randolph, into the room. They
were brought there by their brother, who had been peeping in at the
window, and begging for admission, which was denied him. It was the
exaggerated report of what young Randolph thought he saw, that induced
the sudden entrance of his sisters, and this report found its way
subsequently into the local newspapers of Virginia, with the remarkable
result indicated.
The intrusion of the Randolphs into the room caused delay in removing
other parts of the mould, and this did cause the venerable subject to
feel a little faint and to experience some other discomforts. But
Browere remained at Monticello overnight, dining with Jefferson and the
Randolphs, and chatting with his host through the evening until
bed-time, which would scarcely have been the case had the artist nearly
suffocated and otherwise maltreated his subject, so that for his safety,
the cast had to be shattered to pieces. But we do not have to speculate
and surmise. We have direct and unimpeachable proof to the contrary.
The very day on which, according to Randall and his followers, the
“suffocation” and “shattering” took place, Jefferson wrote:
At the request of the Honorable James Madison and Mr. Browere of
the city of New York, I hereby certify that Mr. Browere has this
day made a mould in plaster composition from my person for the
purpose of making a portrait bust and statue for his contemplated
National Gallery. Given under my hand at Monticello, in Virginia,
this 15th day of October, 1825.
TH: JEFFERSON.
Four days later President Madison, who, with his wife, was Browere’s
next subject, writes: “A bust of Mr. Jefferson, taken by Mr. Browere
from the person of Mr. Jefferson, has been submitted to our inspection
and appears to be a faithful likeness.” That Jefferson did suffer some
inconvenience, from the application of the wet material, is undeniable.
Three
[Illustration: THOMAS JEFFERSON
Age 82]
days after the taking of the mould he wrote to Madison: “I was taken in
by Mr. Browere. He said his operation would be of about twenty minutes
and less unpleasant than Houdon’s method. I submitted without enquiry.
But it was a bold experiment, on his part, on the health of an
octogenary worn down by sickness as well as age. Successive coats of
thin grout plastered on the naked head and kept there an hour, would
have been a severe trial of a young and hale man.”
But the newspapers had gotten hold of the “suffocation” and “shattering”
story, and any one familiar with the newspapers of that day knows what a
scarcity of news there was. Therefore the press over the land laid the
Virginia papers tribute for this bit of sensationalism. Richmond, Boston
and New York vied with each other in keeping the ball moving. But “those
teachers of disjointed thinking,” as Dr. Rush called the public press,
were getting too rabid for Browere, so he published, in the Boston
“Daily Advertiser” of November 30, 1825, a two-column letter, in which
he calls the attack by the “Richmond Enquirer,” the most virulent of his
assailants, “a libel false in almost all its parts and which I am now
determined to prove so by laying before the public every circumstance
relating to that operation on our revered ex-president, Thomas
Jefferson.”
A copy of this published letter Browere sent to Jefferson under cover of
the following important but effusive epistle:
NEW YORK, May 20, 1826.
_Most Esteemed and venerable Sir_:
As the poet says “there are strings in the human heart which once
touched will sometimes utter dreadful discord.” Per the public
vehicles of information, the ex-President has perceived the very
illiberal manner in which my character and feelings have been
treated, and that of those of his honor have been unintentionally
wounded. Mine have been publickly assaulted, upbraided and
lacerated. And why? Because through the error of youth, I
unwittingly, in a confidential letter to M. M. Noah, Esq., editor
of the New York National Advocate, had written in a style either
too familiar or that the whole of said letter (instead of extracts
therefrom) had been made public. In my address to the Boston
public, the ex-president will perceive I set down naught but facts.
That I intended not to wound your feelings or those of the ladies
at Monticello, I acknowledged the urbanity of Mr. Jefferson and the
hospitality of his family. Possibly the ex-president is not aware
that a young gentleman, one of his family, did, previous to my
departure from Monticello, (the very afternoon of the day on which
I took the bust) go to Charlottesville, and publickly declare I had
almost killed Mr. Jefferson, first almost separating the ears,
cutting the skull and suffocating him. What were my feelings? What!
would not any man of spirit and enterprise resent such assertions
and rebut them? I was in this state of feeling when I indited the
letter to M. M. Noah, which letter I fear has forfeited me your
confidence and regard. But a letter confidential and therefore not
to be attributed as malign or censorious.
Your character I have always esteemed, and I now intend evidencing
that regard by making a full-length statue of the “Author of the
Declaration of American Independence,” which (if the president be
not in New York on the 4th of July next) I intend presenting for
that day to the Honorable the Corporation of New York, to be
publickly exhibited to all who desire to view the beloved features
of the friend of science and of liberty.
The attitude of your statue will be standing erect; the left hand
resting on the hip; the right hand extended and holding the
unfolded scroll, whereon is written the Declaration of American
Independence. If possible, History, Painting, Sculpture, Poetry and
Fame will be attendant. The portrait busts of Washington, John
Adams, Franklin, Madison, John Q. Adams, Lafayette, Clinton and
Jay, will be on shields, hung on the column of Independence,
surmounted with the figure of Victory. May you enjoy health, peace
and competence. May the God of nature continue to shower down his
choicest blessings on your head and finally receive you to himself
is the prayer of your sincere friend,
J. H. I. BROWERE.
This communication Jefferson acknowledged, within a month of his
decease, in a letter of such ruling importance in this connection, as it
_settles the question forever_, that I am glad of the opportunity to
publish it in full.
MONTICELLO, June 6, ’26.
_Sir_:
The subject of your letter of May 20, has attracted more notice
certainly than it merited. That the operé to which it refers was
painful to a certain degree I admit. But it was short lived and
there would have ended as to myself. My age and the state of my
health at that time gave an alarm to my family which I neither felt
nor expressed. What may have been said in newspapers I know not,
reading only a single one and that giving little room to things of
that kind. I thought no more of it until your letter brot. it again
to mind, but can assure you it has left not a trace of
dissatisfaction as to yourself and that with me it is placed among
the things which have never happened. Accept this assurance with my
friendly salutes.
TH: JEFFERSON.
Notwithstanding this “very kind and consolatory letter,” as Browere had
good reason to call it, the report that the venerable Jefferson had been
nearly suffocated and otherwise maltreated by the artist, was so widely
circulated that Browere’s career was seriously affected by it; and so
much easier is it to disseminate error than truth, that his hopes were
not fulfilled that the publication of Jefferson’s letter would, as he
wrote to Madison, “in some manner turn the current of popular prejudice,
which at present is great against my _modus operandi_.”
In acknowledging Jefferson’s letter of the 6th, Browere writes
concerning the statue: “On the very day of the receipt of yours, the
13th inst., I had completed your full length statue (nudity) and
to-morrow I intend, if spared, to commence dressing it in the costume
you wore at the time of your delivery of the Declaration of American
Independence. Understanding that your dress corresponded with that of
Mr. Laurens, President of Congress in 1778, I have commenced the suit.
But if Mr. Jefferson would condescend to give a full and explicit
account of the form and colour of his dress, at that very interesting
period, he will be conferring a particular favor on me and on the whole
American Nation. Dispatch in forwarding the same will be pleasing to the
Honorable the Common Council of New York, for whom I am preparing your
statue for the 4th of July, 1826.”
An examination of such of the New York newspapers of the period as could
be found, fails to reveal any mention of this remarkable, colored and
habited, statue of Jefferson, our whole knowledge of which is derived
from the letters of the artist. It would seem to have belonged to the
Eden Musée variety of freaks, from Browere’s own description of it. Here
is what he writes to Madison from New York, July 17, 1826: “You are
aware that two months ago I tendered to the Common Council of New York,
my services and those of my son to complete a full length figure or
statue of Jefferson. The memorial was unanimously accepted and referred
to the Committee on Arts and Sciences, who would superintend its being
placed in the Banqueting Room of the Common Council, on the approaching
anniversary or jubilee. Without money and without power I was enabled in
five weeks of unremitting exertions, to finish and place it in the Hall,
exactly at the hour of the dissolution of Mr. Jefferson.” It may not be
unamusing to read a description of his statue in the City Hall
banqueting-room.
“His lofty and majestic figure standing erect; his mild blue and
expressive eyes beaming with intelligence and good will to his fellow
men. The scroll of the Declaration, which gave freedom to millions,
clutched in his extended right hand, strongly contrasted with the
decrepitude of his elder associate, the venerable John Adams, gave an
effect to the whole which will not ever be forgotten here. His left hand
resting on the hip, gave a carelessness yet dignified ease that pleased
thousands. On his right hand was the portrait bust of the venerable
Charles Carroll of Carrollton, like that of Adams, clothed with white
drapery. Beside and behind these figures were placed various flowers and
shrubbery. Immediately over the head of the author of the Declaration of
American Independence hovered the American Eagle; a civic crown
suspending from his beak was ready to drop on the temples and crown with
immortal honors the wisest and best of men. His likeness is perfect. If
the congratulations of Governor De Witt Clinton, His Honor the Mayor,
the City authorities of New York and the general mass of reputable
lives, can affix the seal of truth in likeness, rest assured the beloved
features will not soon be forgotten.
“Now should the University of Virginia desire to erect in marble or
bronze a statue to the memory of its founder be pleased, Sir, to note
that I will be ready at all times to complete such a work. Moreover
that, should appropriate funds at this period be lacking, it matters
not: I will furnish one and await the pleasure of the institution for
pecuniary emolument. All that would be required at first, would be a
sufficiency to defray actual expenditures for materials and the
indispensable requisites to the support of my young family. Should this
proposition meet the approval of the visitors of the Virginia University
and the citizens at large, a satisfactory answer will meet with my
cordial thanks.”
Evidently the University of Virginia did not accept Browere’s
proposition, as the only statue of its founder and architect, now to be
seen there is an extremely bad one by a sculptor named Galt; and no
trace of Browere’s curious work has up to the present time been found.
Save for the truth of history, silence concerning it would seem to have
been most expedient for Browere’s reputation as a serious artist.
Surely this story is as interesting as a romance, and but for fiction it
might never have been told. How dare any man assume to write history and
set down on his pages such statements, as did Randall about Browere’s
mask of the living Jefferson, without first exhausting every channel of
inquiry and every means of search and research to ascertain the truth?
The material that I have drawn from was as accessible to Mr. Randall as
it has been to me; in fact, he claims to have used the Jefferson papers
in his compilation. It is true we have acquired more exact and
scientific methods of writing history than were in vogue when Randall
wrote, a generation or more ago. Yet this will not excuse his positive
misstatements and false assumptions. The existence of an opportunity for
such severe criticism only serves to emphasize the great necessity of
observing the inflexible rule: take nothing for granted and nothing at
second hand, without the most careful investigation and scrutiny. If the
standard of life’s ordinary action should be the precept “Whatever is
worth doing is worth doing well,” with what intensified force does it
apply to the writing of history! Pains, infinite pains, are the
requisites for good work. Nothing meritorious is ever accomplished
without hard labor. Toil conquers everything; without it, the result is
at best uncertain. While it is some gratification to have set wrong
right and done tardy justice to Browere’s reputation, it is a far
greater satisfaction to have rescued from oblivion and presented to the
world his magnificent facsimile of the face and form of Thomas
Jefferson.
[Illustration]
VI
_Three Generations of Adamses_
The allied families of Adams and Quincy are the only instances in this
country, that present themselves to my mind, of hereditary ability
manifesting itself and being recognized in the public service, for three
and more generations. The Quincy family has done its work in local and
more narrow spheres than the Adamses; yet Josiah Quincy, Jr., of Boston
Port Bill fame, and his son, bearing the same name, who for so many
years was at the head of Harvard University, have had a wide field for
the spread of their influence. But the Adams family is the only one that
has given father and son to the Presidential chair, and father, son and
grandson to the English mission. The series of double coincidences in
the Adams family connected with missions to England and treaties with
that power, is most curious. John Adams, just
[Illustration: JOHN ADAMS
Age 90]
after having served as a commissioner to arrange the treaty of peace
that concluded the Revolutionary War, was made minister to the court of
St. James; his son John Quincy Adams, immediately after signing the
treaty of Ghent, that concluded the war of 1812-15, was appointed
minister to the same court; and his grandson, Charles Francis Adams,
minister to England during the entire Civil War, took part in the treaty
that disposed of the Alabama question.
John Adams was born in 1735 and died in 1826. The coincidences in his
career, parallel with events in the career of Jefferson, are very
remarkable. They were both on the committee of five to draft the
Declaration of Independence; they both signed that American _Magna
Charta_; they both represented this country in France; they both became
successively Vice-President and then President of these United States,
being the only signers of the Declaration of Independence thus elevated
to the chair of state; and they both died, within a few hours of each
other, on the fiftieth anniversary of the adoption of the Declaration of
Independence. Is it possible that more curious historical parallels can
be found in the lives of any two men?
From Monticello, the home of Jefferson, Browere journeyed to Quincy, the
home of Adams, in order to secure a mask of the face of the
distinguished nonagenarian. But the Virginian story of the maltreatment
of Jefferson had gotten there before him, and it was with difficulty
that Browere could persuade Mr. Adams to submit. However, the old
Spartan finally yielded, and submitted not only once but twice, as
appears by his certificate:
QUINCY, MASS., Nov. 23, 1825.
This certifies that John H. I. Browere of the city of New York, has
yesterday and to-day made two Portrait bust moulds on my person and
made a cast of the first which has been approved of by friends.
JOHN ADAMS.
To this certificate, his son, Judge Thomas B. Adams, added a postscript:
“I am authorized by the ex-President to say that the moulds were
made on his person without injury, pain or inconvenience.”
The bust from the mask of old John Adams is, next to that of Jefferson,
the most interesting of Browere’s works. I do not mean for the subject,
but for its truthful realism. There is an unhesitating feeling of real
presence conveyed by Browere’s busts that is given by no other likeness.
They present living qualities and characteristics wanting in the painted
and sculptured portraits of the same persons. Such a comparison is
easily made in the instance of John Adams, for the same
[Illustration: JOHN QUINCY ADAMS
Age 58]