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Lot Essay
Originally titled Yankee Doodle, the present painting is one of the most identifiable and most frequently copied images in the chronicles of American art. "This painting, with its three heroic Revolutionary War figures marching into battle, has probably reached into more homes and hearts in this country than any American painting ever produced. It is a kind of 'Battle Hymn of the Republic' on canvas. The painting crops up repeatedly in hundreds of books, in large tableaux, in pageants, and in fireworks displays." (W.F. Gordon, The Spirit of '76: An American Portrait, Fallbrook, California, 1976, p. 8) Willard's masterpiece is infused with originality, sincerity and emotional appeal, and has become one of the most recognizable pictures in the country even to this day.
Archibald Willard was born in 1836 in Wellington, Ohio. His upbringing in the Western Reserve region of Ohio, along with his personal history of military nationalism, undoubtedly served to develop the artist's interest in patriotic subjects. Willard's first ancestor in America, Major Simon Willard, was one of the founders of Concord, Massachusetts. His grandfather, a relative of General Stark, served with Willard in the Revolutionary War. Most importantly, Willard's four years of service with the 86th Ohio Volunteer Infantry in the Civil War planted the seed for the artist's fervent patriotism.
At the suggestion of photographer and entrepreneur, J.F. Ryder, Willard employed his father and several locals to pose for The Spirit of '76, which was to be exhibited for the 1876 Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Henry Kelsley Devereux, a student at the Brooks Military Academy, posed for the young drummer boy. Previously, Willard had noticed the boy at a special drill competition in honor of the Cleveland Grays, a group of old Civil War heroes. Willard was so impressed with the boy's poise, he sought out and received permission from his father to use Devereux as the Yankee Doodle model. Willard asked Hugh Mosher, a close boyhood friend, to pose for the fifer. Both men had fought in the Civil War, where Mosher sustained considerable injuries while serving with the 43rd Infantry regiment. Willard's father, the Reverend Samuel Willard, posed for the drummer in the final composition.
"I saw my models, Harry Devereux, a fine manly boy, Hugh Mosher and my father in a new light. I saw them in the imagination on the battlefield. I had seen such men there. I looked into my father's face and the lines of the commonplace faded out, and instead I saw the grand old man, then nearing death, a fine, old man whose soldier spirit had been with him in the years of his privation and self-denial. I saw Hugh Mosher as I had seen such men in battle. The whole idea took on new significance. I tied a bandage around the head of Hugh Mosher. I put his fine, manly boyhood into Harry Devereux. And into the old drummer I put, as I saw it, the dignity and fortitude of my father...I finished the painting under the inspiration of his character." (as quoted in The Spirit of '76: An American Portrait, pp. 18-19)
The result was a monumental 10 by 8 feet painting that was completed several months prior to the Exposition. During that time Ryder displayed the work in the front window of his studio, where it was warmly received. Ryder tells of the public reaction to the painting: "The crowds which gathered about it blockaded the entrance to the gallery and obstructed the sidewalk to such an extent that it was necessary to remove it from the window to the rear of the store, where it was on exhibition for several days, during which time all business in the store was discontinued on account of the crowds which filled the place. The interest and enthusiasm which it created was remarkable." (as quoted in The Spirit of '76: An American Portrait, p. 13)
The March 29, 1876, edition of the Cleveland Leader featured a press release for The Spirit of '76: "Were the Centennial Exposition to be entirely unsupplied with music, the lack would almost be filled by placing Willard's Yankee Doodle where it could meet the glance of every American visitor, for but a glance at it is needed to set all the fires of patriotism in one's veins, and to compel his footsteps to keep time to the music which he feels if he does not hear--for every line in the picture equals a drum tap, and every color thrills like the shrill martial note of the fife. The artist has seized a moment when all artificialities fall from a man's soul, as the cumbersome baggage falls from his shoulders, in that supreme moment when he leads or is led into battle. It is a picture worth seeing--in itself an embodiment of the hardships of the Revolution. Its conception is wonderful, and its execution a crown of honor to the painter...to have wrought so great a work proclaims Willard as one on whom genius has placed her hand...'Yankee Doodle' has been glorified in art as it never was before." (as quoted in The Spirit of '76: An American Portrait, pp. 13-15)
The painting was given its current title in Boston, Massachusetts, where it was exhibited after the Exposition. The desire of the public to see the painting led to a tour which lasted several years, traveling to San Francisco, Chicago, and Washington D.C. Subsequently Willard produced five versions of the present work. Two of these paintings are currently unlocated, including the original 'Centennial Canvas.' The most renowned version known in existence, referred to as the 'Marblehead Canvas' now hangs in the Selectman's Room, Abbott Hall, Marblehead, Massachusetts. The present version, known as the 'Thomas Gift' was a wedding gift to Willard's nephew, John J. Thomas, Jr.
Henry K. Devereux, the model for the drummer boy, best expresses the significance of The Spirit of '76, "Later in life I stood before the picture again...Then, as before, not only to me but to all in the room, arose a feeling of sentiment, a feeling of reverence, a feeling almost of awe that made one instinctively bare one's head and swallow the lump that will sometimes come to one's throat. It may be that enthusiasm borne of an intimate knowledge of the creation of this picture makes me overenthusiastic, but then and afterwards, even to this day, when I learn how it holds the interest of all that look at it, the belief is strengthened that the picture was an inspiration...I know little or nothing of art, nor does the ordinary individual looking at a picture, but any one picture that can so universally move the onlooker must convey something deeper than the pigments on the canvas." (as quoted in The Spirit of '76: An American Portrait, p. 21)
Archibald Willard was born in 1836 in Wellington, Ohio. His upbringing in the Western Reserve region of Ohio, along with his personal history of military nationalism, undoubtedly served to develop the artist's interest in patriotic subjects. Willard's first ancestor in America, Major Simon Willard, was one of the founders of Concord, Massachusetts. His grandfather, a relative of General Stark, served with Willard in the Revolutionary War. Most importantly, Willard's four years of service with the 86th Ohio Volunteer Infantry in the Civil War planted the seed for the artist's fervent patriotism.
At the suggestion of photographer and entrepreneur, J.F. Ryder, Willard employed his father and several locals to pose for The Spirit of '76, which was to be exhibited for the 1876 Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Henry Kelsley Devereux, a student at the Brooks Military Academy, posed for the young drummer boy. Previously, Willard had noticed the boy at a special drill competition in honor of the Cleveland Grays, a group of old Civil War heroes. Willard was so impressed with the boy's poise, he sought out and received permission from his father to use Devereux as the Yankee Doodle model. Willard asked Hugh Mosher, a close boyhood friend, to pose for the fifer. Both men had fought in the Civil War, where Mosher sustained considerable injuries while serving with the 43rd Infantry regiment. Willard's father, the Reverend Samuel Willard, posed for the drummer in the final composition.
"I saw my models, Harry Devereux, a fine manly boy, Hugh Mosher and my father in a new light. I saw them in the imagination on the battlefield. I had seen such men there. I looked into my father's face and the lines of the commonplace faded out, and instead I saw the grand old man, then nearing death, a fine, old man whose soldier spirit had been with him in the years of his privation and self-denial. I saw Hugh Mosher as I had seen such men in battle. The whole idea took on new significance. I tied a bandage around the head of Hugh Mosher. I put his fine, manly boyhood into Harry Devereux. And into the old drummer I put, as I saw it, the dignity and fortitude of my father...I finished the painting under the inspiration of his character." (as quoted in The Spirit of '76: An American Portrait, pp. 18-19)
The result was a monumental 10 by 8 feet painting that was completed several months prior to the Exposition. During that time Ryder displayed the work in the front window of his studio, where it was warmly received. Ryder tells of the public reaction to the painting: "The crowds which gathered about it blockaded the entrance to the gallery and obstructed the sidewalk to such an extent that it was necessary to remove it from the window to the rear of the store, where it was on exhibition for several days, during which time all business in the store was discontinued on account of the crowds which filled the place. The interest and enthusiasm which it created was remarkable." (as quoted in The Spirit of '76: An American Portrait, p. 13)
The March 29, 1876, edition of the Cleveland Leader featured a press release for The Spirit of '76: "Were the Centennial Exposition to be entirely unsupplied with music, the lack would almost be filled by placing Willard's Yankee Doodle where it could meet the glance of every American visitor, for but a glance at it is needed to set all the fires of patriotism in one's veins, and to compel his footsteps to keep time to the music which he feels if he does not hear--for every line in the picture equals a drum tap, and every color thrills like the shrill martial note of the fife. The artist has seized a moment when all artificialities fall from a man's soul, as the cumbersome baggage falls from his shoulders, in that supreme moment when he leads or is led into battle. It is a picture worth seeing--in itself an embodiment of the hardships of the Revolution. Its conception is wonderful, and its execution a crown of honor to the painter...to have wrought so great a work proclaims Willard as one on whom genius has placed her hand...'Yankee Doodle' has been glorified in art as it never was before." (as quoted in The Spirit of '76: An American Portrait, pp. 13-15)
The painting was given its current title in Boston, Massachusetts, where it was exhibited after the Exposition. The desire of the public to see the painting led to a tour which lasted several years, traveling to San Francisco, Chicago, and Washington D.C. Subsequently Willard produced five versions of the present work. Two of these paintings are currently unlocated, including the original 'Centennial Canvas.' The most renowned version known in existence, referred to as the 'Marblehead Canvas' now hangs in the Selectman's Room, Abbott Hall, Marblehead, Massachusetts. The present version, known as the 'Thomas Gift' was a wedding gift to Willard's nephew, John J. Thomas, Jr.
Henry K. Devereux, the model for the drummer boy, best expresses the significance of The Spirit of '76, "Later in life I stood before the picture again...Then, as before, not only to me but to all in the room, arose a feeling of sentiment, a feeling of reverence, a feeling almost of awe that made one instinctively bare one's head and swallow the lump that will sometimes come to one's throat. It may be that enthusiasm borne of an intimate knowledge of the creation of this picture makes me overenthusiastic, but then and afterwards, even to this day, when I learn how it holds the interest of all that look at it, the belief is strengthened that the picture was an inspiration...I know little or nothing of art, nor does the ordinary individual looking at a picture, but any one picture that can so universally move the onlooker must convey something deeper than the pigments on the canvas." (as quoted in The Spirit of '76: An American Portrait, p. 21)