“The Spirit of ’76”

 [Illustration]




 “The Spirit of ’76”

 Some Recollections of the
 Artist and the Painting

 by

 Henry Kelsey Devereux

 [Illustration]

 Cleveland
 Privately Printed for the Author
 1926




 _Copyright 1926, by
 Henry K. Devereux_




 To my father, JOHN HENRY DEVEREUX
 I would dedicate this little volume--a
 man whose loving-kindness so true;
 whose godliness, faith, and
 devotion--strengthened by firmness
 always fair--has ever been
 an inspiration




 Contents


 PREFACE                                  15

 ARCHIBALD M. WILLARD, A BRIEF SKETCH     21

 THE FIFER--HUGH MOSHER                   39

 THE DRUMMER BOY--HENRY KELSEY
 DEVEREUX                                 47

 AN EARLY ACCOUNT BY J. F. RYDER          61

 THE PRELIMINARY SKETCHES AND REPLICAS    71




 Illustrations


 THE SPIRIT OF ’76                              _Frontispiece_

 Reproduced from the original painting now
 hanging in the Town Hall at Marblehead,
 Massachusetts. This reproduction is accurate
 as to details, and reproduces the original colors
 as closely as possible. Some years ago, on account
 of the demand for reproductions of this
 painting and the danger of damage to the
 valuable original, by a vote of the town of
 Marblehead, action was taken that no further
 reproductions from the original should be permitted;
 hence, many of the reproductions now
 available are not reproductions of the original
 painting but of one or other of the later replicas.
 These replicas differ in many respects from the
 original, both as to details and coloring.

 ARCHIBALD M. WILLARD                                       23

 “YANKEE DOODLE”                                            29

 Willard’s original conception for the humorous
 painting submitted to J. F. Ryder, as reproduced
 by Willard in 1898 and presented to The Reverend
 William E. Barton, in whose possession
 it still remains.

 HUGH MOSHER                                                41

 HENRY KELSEY DEVEREUX                                      49

 THE REVEREND SAMUEL WILLARD                                63

 THE FINAL PRELIMINARY CRAYON STUDY
 SKETCH                                                     73

 Showing one of the stages in the final evolution
 of the finished painting. Believed to be the
 only study sketch now in existence. Presented
 by Willard to Doctor Barton and still in his possession.




Preface


Nearly fifty years have passed since Archibald M. Willard painted
“The Spirit of ’76.” Mr. Willard has passed, and so have all who were
intimately connected with its creation, except myself. Probably no
painting, the creation of an American artist, has received such wide
and continuous interest and attention as this patriotic painting.
Many times during the last quarter of a century, I have been urged
to record my recollections of Willard and my association with this
historical painting. Many times I have been asked for information which
did not come under my personal observation. As the years pass, this
demand for information has become more insistent and more urgent. This
little volume has been prepared partly to meet this demand, but more
especially to accede to the oft-repeated requests of my family and
friends.

These requests for information have not always been confined to my own
experiences. Therefore, the more fully to meet the wishes of my family
and friends, to my own personal recollections I have added a brief
sketch of the artist, of Hugh Mosher the fifer, and Mr. Ryder’s own
account of the conception and purpose of the artist, written many years
ago and now difficult to find. I have also added a few words regarding
the extant original sketches and the Replica of 1912.

                                                  H. K. D.

January 1926




Archibald M. Willard
a brief sketch

[Illustration: ARCHIBALD M. WILLARD

at the age of forty, when he painted the “Spirit of ’76”]




A brief sketch of Archibald M. Willard and the Spirit of ’76


“The Spirit of ’76” is the best known painting produced by an American,
and at the same time one of the most inspiring works of art ever issued
in America. It may not conform to any orthodox school of painting or
possess the fine points of technique that some critics demand, but as
an inspiration of patriotism, I doubt if any painting has had as wide
and continuous influence as “The Spirit of ’76.” It has been reproduced
in one form and another millions of times, by almost every available
process--chromo-lithography, steel-engraving, half-tone, and the
various color processes. It is perhaps available in more homes than any
other American painting, either framed or in magazines, printed books,
school histories, calendars, posters, etc. Many a patriotic parade has
included the famous trio of this painting.

Although the painting is so universally known, it is surprising that
so little authentic printed material is available either on the artist
himself or the story of the creation of this, his most celebrated work.

Archibald M. Willard, the painter of “The Spirit of ’76” was born
in Bedford, Ohio, August 22, 1836. His father, the Reverend Samuel
Willard, was a Baptist minister and a Vermonter. In the home was
grandfather Willard, between whom and the young artist there grew to
be a strong bond of understanding and sympathy. The grandfather, a
relative of General Stark and a soldier of the Revolutionary War, was
one of the Green Mountain boys who was at the surrender of General
Burgoyne. Grandfather and grandson spent much time together in rambles
through the then picturesque Bedford glens. The rugged surroundings
appealed to young Willard’s artistic sense. The old man figured often
in the boy’s cartoons. Many a tree was stripped of its outer bark to
produce a smooth surface upon which with red chalk and charred embers
the young artist produced savages of hideous mien. As frequently
happens with young artists, young Willard, did not receive much
encouragement from the Willard family, perhaps because every smooth
surface of wall, barn-door, board fence, etc., bore evidence to the
budding genius.

For varying periods, the family were located at Kent, Salem, Aurora,
Mantua, and La Grange. When Willard was a lad of seventeen, the
family moved to Wellington, Lorain county, Ohio. At the outbreak of
the Civil War, Willard enlisted in the Eighty-sixth Ohio Regiment.
While with his regiment at Cumberland Gap, he painted several pictures
of the surrounding country. These were photographed and many of the
photographs were sold to his comrades.

With the close of the Civil War, Archibald M. Willard, then a sturdy
young man, returned to Wellington, together with his close companion,
Hugh Mosher. Both had served faithfully and well. Willard had become
a non-commissioned officer. He secured employment in the shop of E.
S. Tripp, a wheelwright and wagon-maker. The old shop still stands
at Wellington. Willard’s original job was to paint the wagons. From
the mere painting of the wagons he gradually passed to decorating the
wagons artistically, and finally to decorating, with woodland and
animal scenes, a number of gaudy circus chariots. He did this work
so artistically that “Tripp’s wagons” became known all over that
part of the country. There was coöperation between the two men, for
apart from the artistic painting, the wagons themselves were sturdily
and well-built. Willard’s artistic temperament carried him beyond
mere commercial painting. He began painting pictures on the wagon
boxes. These were so well executed that they created much comment.
He gradually became so elaborate in these, that his employer, Mr.
Tripp, had to restrain him. Undoubtedly the interest created by these
paintings sold many a wagon for their builder and advertised him in a
most unusual way. If any of these Willard-decorated-Tripp-wagons were
now available, they would bring a price far in excess of the cost of
the wagons themselves.

While working at his trade as wagon painter, Willard devoted all his
spare time, energy, and what little money he could save to the study
of painting on canvas. He had a very decided sense of humor and nearly
all of his earlier subjects are of a humorous character. It was early
in the seventies that he painted the first two pictures from which
he received compensation. These were the outcome of a request by his
employer’s daughter asking him to paint a picture for her. “Pluck
number One” was the result. It depicts a dog hitched to a little wagon,
a boy driving, and his baby sister in the wagon with him. The dog takes
off the road in chase of a rabbit, and the little boy desperately
trying to stop him. A wreck follows where the rabbit jumps a log, but
the youthful occupant clinging to the lines, and the little sister,
escapes unhurt.

[Illustration: “YANKEE DOODLE”

Willard’s original conception for the humorous painting submitted to
J. F. Ryder. From this, the “Spirit of ’76,” with its far-reaching
inspiration, was finally evolved]

In Cleveland at this time was a photographer and art dealer named J. F.
Ryder. This painting came to his attention with other early productions
by Willard. The astute Ryder quickly recognized the quaint humor
and natural ability displayed in these early pictures. Willard
thereupon painted a sequel to “Pluck” which he entitled “Pluck
number Two.” Mr. Ryder had these two paintings reproduced in color
by chromo-lithography. They became two of the most popular pictures
of their day. They sold at ten dollars the pair. Many thousands were
sold. This proved to be the beginning of a long and profitable business
acquaintance and lasting friendship between Willard and Ryder. The
proceeds from the sale of these pictures permitted Willard to take an
art course in the studio of J. D. Eaton, of New York. This was in 1873.

Following this, Willard painted among other things a picture which he
called “Yankee Doodle.” It was an ordinary sized canvas and delineated
a Fourth of July celebration in a country village. An old man in the
center beating a drum, with a younger man on each side, the one with
a drum, the other with a fife. The surroundings and background were
rural. This painting was finished a few months prior to the opening of
the Centennial Exposition of 1876 at Philadelphia. When Mr. Ryder saw
the picture, he immediately conceived the idea of changing the subject
from humorous to patriotic, and Willard concurred in the idea.

Contrary to a rather general belief, “The Spirit of ’76” was not
painted for exhibition at the Centennial. At that period there was
a general and widespread spirit of patriotism and the days of the
Revolutionary War were especially before the people of this country.
Mr. Ryder had this prominently in mind and for this reason he
suggested to Willard the painting of this picture that reproductions
therefrom might be made and a large number of these reproductions sold
generally throughout the country and particularly at the Centennial.
It was not sent to the Centennial until many of these colored
reproductions had been distributed, and a large popular interest in the
painting had arisen. It was then, on special request made by those in
charge of the Centennial that the original painting itself was sent to
the Exposition.

Mr. Ryder suggested that the title be “Yankee Doodle” and under this
title “The Spirit of ’76” was at first known. He left the conception
and development of the painting to Willard’s imagination.

At that early period after the Civil War, when the training days of the
militia system had practically gone to pieces, the various companies
were expected to go into camp for three days each year. These days
had become a neighborhood picnic. Uniforms were seldom in evidence.
There were few guns or swords. There were, however, always the flag,
the fife, and the drum. Willard had this idea prominently before him.
He slashed into outline various charcoal attempts, but the lines would
not fall or respond as he wanted them to. The real idea as to what
Yankee Doodle and the men who fifed it and drummed it, stood for,
eventually began to thrust itself persistently into the pencil points.
Willard daily became more enthused over the patriotic features to be
delineated. His early days of marching and fighting under the stars
and stripes helped greatly in stirring his patriotic enthusiasm, which
later was put upon and filled the completed canvas.

While Willard was engaged in painting this picture, his father, who
was posing as his central figure, became critically ill. He did not
live to see the finished painting. When Willard was told that his
father was soon to pass away, all thoughts of a humorous picture faded
from his mind. He decided to paint his father as he really was.

After Willard became acquainted with Mr. Ryder, at Ryder’s suggestion,
Willard moved to Cleveland. He used as a studio, a small room on the
fourth floor of what used to be the Union National Bank Building
located at Euclid Avenue and what was then Hickox Alley, Cleveland,
Ohio. From this time on Willard spent almost his entire life in
Cleveland.

This little studio had a northern exposure, and he was artist enough,
even then, to realize the value of the northern light. His canvas when
stretched was taller than himself. His idea had become a big one and
nothing but life-size would do for the figures to be used. He followed
the general idea of his first picture, “Yankee Doodle or a Fourth of
July Celebration” but the spirit of the whole was changed. The old man
in the center was Willard’s own father, a tall, straight, powerful man,
with flowing white locks yet the figure of a man of thirty, without
coat, bare-headed, his white hair blowing in the breeze, his shirt
sleeves loose, marching forward with a step as firm and unhesitating
as the grim and determined look on his face. The face of the old man
shows features which could be kind, but now set like flint in the face
of the enemy--filled with the courage of a man who has put character,
and thought, and prayer into the music through which he utters his
patriotic purpose. Perhaps there is a bit of humor in the figure of the
fifer--it could not be otherwise--for it is a portrait of the fifer
of Wellington, Hugh Mosher. While depicting his humorous face with its
puckered mouth, there is the same air of determination in the figure,
the eyes, and the forward step, that so mark the picture of the old
man. In these characters one sees the spirit of men who will stand and
play until they die, or by their contagious heroism will turn the tide
of battle.

As already stated, for the first few years the painting was known under
the title of “Yankee Doodle.” While the picture was on exhibition in
Boston, Mr. Brainerd, who had charge of the exhibition, suggested
changing the title to “Yankee Doodle, or the Spirit of ’76.” This
suggestion was made because at that time in Boston there was a public
character, a half-wit, who was commonly known about the city as “Yankee
Doodle.” In some curious way, the painting and this half-wit were
being confused in the public mind. This change of title was adopted.
Finally “Yankee Doodle” was dropped entirely and the painting has since
been known under the title of “The Spirit of ’76.”




The Fifer

[Illustration: HUGH MOSHER

who posed as the fifer. From an original photograph made by William F.
Sawtelle of Wellington, Ohio]




The Fifer--Hugh Mosher


When Archibald M. Willard returned home from service in the Civil War,
there came back with him to Wellington his comrade, Hugh Mosher. Mr.
Willard first became acquainted with Mosher after the family moved to
Wellington. They soon became close and lifelong friends. Their service
in the Civil War, in which they were comrades, more closely cemented
this friendship.

Hugh Mosher was born at Perry, Lake county, Ohio, January twenty-ninth,
1819, and died at Brighton, Ohio, August fifteenth, 1892. His father
served in the War of 1812, and his grandfather had served in the
Revolutionary War. He himself enlisted for the Civil War, and became a
fifer in Company H, Forty-third Infantry Regiment, Ohio Volunteers. He
never fully recovered from the effects of his army hardships.

He was a tall and well built man, over six feet in height. In
appearance he suggested a typical frontiersman of the Daniel Boone or
Simon Girty type.

Hugh Mosher (or Mosier as it is sometimes wrongly spelled) who posed
as the fifer, spent most of his life in Wellington, Ohio. Returning
from the Civil War, he again took up his farmwork. He was a celebrated
performer on the fife, and his fame had spread throughout the
surrounding country. He was probably the best fifer in northern Ohio.
It is said of him that he would rather fife than eat. He carried this
little instrument with him wherever he went and delighted to play
whenever chance offered. No patriotic gathering in or near Wellington
was considered complete without Mosher and his fife. He was intensely
patriotic, and even in his last illness deeply regretted being unable
to attend the celebration of the Fourth of July in his home town of
Wellington.

He spent considerable time posing for Mr. Willard, and many photographs
of him were taken by Mr. William F. Sawtelle, a photographer of
Wellington, for use in Willard’s painting. Willard, however, could not
get satisfactory photographs of Hugh Mosher. This was before the day of
the quick-acting shutter. The cap of the camera could not be operated
quickly enough to get satisfactory expression. For this reason, poor
Hugh Mosher had to go to Willard’s studio and pose. In order to get the
proper expression, Mosher not only had to pose, but had to continue
fifing all the time he was posing. Willard had a habit of calling
attention to the peculiar way in which Mosher held his fife--with the
thumb out.

The rumor is that after Willard had made his many and individual
studies of Mosher, that Mosher was unable to get to Cleveland to see
the finished canvas of “The Spirit of ’76.” He did not see it until he
visited the Centennial.

At the Centennial there was always a crowd around the painting. Mosher
joined the crowd. While he thus stood before the picture, someone in
the crowd recognized him, and he was immediately given an ovation.

One of the original sketches for the fifer, I believe, still exists.
It was in existence and exhibited in Cleveland, November, 1912. At the
same time also was exhibited a marble figure of the old drummer,
Willard’s father.




The Drummer Boy

[Illustration: HENRY KELSEY DEVEREUX

who posed for the drummer boy. From an original portrait taken about
1878]




The Drummer Boy--H. K. D.


In the original sketches for “Yankee Doodle,” Willard depicted three
grown men. When the humorous aspect faded from his conception, and
he decided to depict his father seriously, he conceived the idea of
including for his third figure a young lad instead of a grown man. In
this way, the picture would present three generations of patriots,
the grandfather in the center, the father at his side, and on his
right, the grandson looking up into grandpa’s face with confidence and
admiration.

In 1875, there was organized in Cleveland, Brooks School, a preparatory
school for boys from ten years upward. It was so named after its
inceptor, the Reverend John Brooks, who lost his life in a most
tragic manner while in Boston to secure a principal for the school. It
was a military school. In 1876, it was domiciled in its building on
Carnegie Avenue (then Sibley Street) near the present East Thirty-sixth
street. The spirit of the boys in the school was very military. They
had for instructor the late Captain F. A. Kendall, who served with
distinction during the Civil War. Three companies composed the Brooks
School Battalion. The first company composed of the older boys; the
second, of the intermediate; and the third, of the smaller boys in both
age and stature. For some reason the third company, in competitive
drills, always won over the other two. This was due undoubtedly to
the natural sympathy older people always have for the younger and
smaller when in competition. I was captain of the Third Company and it
was my observation that the little fellows usually got most of any
sympathy being given, yet, too, it was a noticeable fact that they
tried harder, paid closer attention, and usually drilled more perfectly
than the older boys. On the sixth of March, 1876, the Brooks School
Battalion gave a competitive drill at their armory, in compliment to
the Cleveland Grays, and as may be guessed every boy was on his toes
to show the hero soldiers in gray what could be done. Mr. Willard,
desiring a subject to use in his picture as a drummer boy, attended
this drill. Why he selected me never has been explained to me. Maybe
an incident in the drill of the Third Company had its effect. Anyway,
to this day, although nearly fifty years have passed, recalling the
happenings of that day brings to me a thrill for the earnest effort
and perfection of drill of those little fellows. The two companies
of larger boys had passed through their drill in a way to please
everybody. When it came time for the little fellows to march out,
every boy was keyed to the limit. They went through the set maneuvers
perfectly and when about finished, it popped into my head to try
something very difficult that the others had not tried. Marching down
the side of the hall in column of fours, and wheeling to the left, at
the end I gave the order “fours left into line and forward guide right
double-quick march.” So perfect was the spacing between the fours that
they wheeled into line in perfect alignment, broke into double quick as
one, and went charging down the hall toward the spectators amid a burst
of applause. That settled the day and the Third Company retained the
honor of being the color company.

One thing that likely intensified this military spirit among us was the
fact that just at this time there was on exhibition at Cleveland, a
panorama of the Battle of Lookout Mountain. It was a splendid picture,
aroused much enthusiasm, and the proceeds--in part at least--went to
pay for the completion of the soldier’s monument at Dayton. A select
squad from the Brooks School Battalion gave an exhibition drill in
front of the picture to help the entertainment.

Shortly after this competitive drill, my father told me he had given
permission to Mr. Willard to use me as a model for the drummer boy in
his picture. I recall a feeling of resentment on my part for that meant
giving up afternoon play, a thing not to be contemplated with a feeling
of joy by any boy. However, paternal edicts generally prevail, and a
beginning was made by going down to Mr. Ryder’s gallery and posing
for a number of photos. This was followed by a number of visits to
Willard’s studio where hours were passed in rather a trying way for
a boy. Willard was very kind and thoughtful. He entertained me with
stories of the war, told me what was in his mind for the creation of
this picture, and often would let me rest and walk in front of the
picture to see what he had done. I can recall the enthusiasm of the
man. He worked as if possessed of an idea that pleased him, but which
he might lose. With watching him work and the picture develop, I too
soon became enthusiastic. I forgot that it was tiresome to stand on
one leg, and that bent, the other advanced, and the foot resting on an
inverted box, with the head twisted to one side and the eyes raised and
arms outstretched, although it was really very exacting of one’s temper
and strength. However, things progressed rapidly, and by the thirtieth
of March the picture was about finished, and I took my mother, at
Willard’s request to see it. I am sure she experienced the feeling
that thousands of our mothers have when they have seen their beloved
son marching off to war. And then the momentous day came when it was
rolled up and sent to the Centennial.

That fall I went to the Centennial with my parents. We spent about two
weeks there. Almost every day I went into the Art Gallery to stand
before “The Spirit of ’76.” Each time I felt something aroused in me
that did not diminish by the frequent visits. It also was curious to
mark the effect on others. Always there was a crowd in front of the
picture and many if not most of the people had perceptible tears rise
to their eyes as they stood and gazed. Many actually cried, yet came
again and again to look with reverence on that canvas that pulsed so
much of American spirit.

Later in life I stood before the picture again, where it now hangs in
Abbot Hall, Marblehead, Mass., for which town my father, Colonel John
Henry Devereux, bought the picture and presented it thereto. 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 in one’s throat.

It may be that enthusiasm borne of an intimate knowledge of the
creation of this picture makes me over-enthusiastic, 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, though it might be judged crude in execution by
artistic standards. 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. The determination and fight depicted by the
old man in face and figure, without uniform, in shirt sleeves, coat
off, sleeves loose, vest open and shirt open at throat without collar
or stock is symbolical of the patriot ready to fight without purchase
or thought of anything but the cause at heart. The fifer, a touch of
humor for his, a humorous face, his fringe of whiskers, but a bandage
about his head on which blood shows, a twinkle in his eye, but a set
look on the face and a decided poise in the figure marching to his own
fife music. The boy fresh from a loving mother’s care and carefully
uniformed, his eyes fixed upon his adored grandsire that he may do all
that this loved, brave, and loyal man is determined to do. The wounded
soldier in the foreground, his head pillowed on the shell-shattered
wheel of a cannon, with heart and strength enough left to raise his cap
in salute to “Old Glory.” Over them all the flag of freedom, the stars
and stripes, back of which come the first line of cheering patriotic
troops entering action. It tells the story of the old way, and of the
spirit and determination when men fought face to face, each individual
a fighting machine to fight for love of country and freedom.

The flag is really an anachronism, as although it depicts the thirteen
stripes and the thirteen stars on a blue field, it was not until June,
1777, that the United State Congress really accepted this design, and
Betsy Ross made the first flag with these emblems.

The painting created little or no stir among the art critics and
connoisseurs. It was not painted for such. The painting was a patriotic
human document that reached the hearts of millions and will for
centuries to come be an inspiration to further millions yet unborn.

Archibald M. Willard has passed. He may not be classed as a great
artist but in the “Spirit of ’76” he painted himself into everlasting
fame.




An Early Account

[Illustration: THE REVEREND SAMUEL WILLARD

who posed for the central figure in the painting]




An Early Account by J. F. Ryder


The conception and purpose of the artist and his adviser cannot be
better interpreted than in Mr. Ryder’s own words, written many years
ago.

“The idea of the artist in painting the picture was to concentrate all
the determination and enthusiasm possible in a few figures. No field
afforded a better subject than the Revolution, with its determined old
heroes and the air of ‘Yankee Doodle’ to rouse them to the highest
pitch of enthusiasm.

“The three chief figures meet all the requirements of the situation and
are in true keeping with the surroundings. Over them lower the clouds
of smoke from a battle-field toward which they are marching. Behind
them a few brave Continentals struggle up the hill, while by the side
of a dismantled cannon lies a wounded soldier who raised himself on his
elbow to give a last cheer to the stirring strains of ‘Yankee Doodle.’
The lines have evidently been forced back. The dying soldier and the
broken cannon show where the line has stood. The other soldiers have
been retreating. But the three musicians advance, and the sound of
their music thrills the retreating troops with new courage. Hats are in
the air; the flag has turned; the threatened defeat is about to become
a victory. The dying man raised himself to cheer. The trio of homespun
musicians are discoursing with all their might that music whose
shrill melody is so surcharged with patriotism. The old drummer in
the centre, bare-headed, grand in his fearlessness, without coat, one
sleeve rolled up as though he had turned from the plough to grasp the
drumsticks, his white hair blown in the air, his eyes set close and
defiant as though he saw the danger and feared it not, the sharp lines
about his mouth showing a fixed determination--all combine to make up
that wonderful figure in our history which no rags could degrade nor
splendor ennoble--the Continental soldier.

“On the left of the brave old drummer is the fifer who seems to have
come to blow his fife, and he will do it as well here among the flying
bullets as in the porch of his cottage. His eyes are fixed toward the
sky as though reading the notes of his music on the clouds. Around his
brow is a blood-stained handkerchief, which tells of the bullet which
grazed yet spared him. His whole energy is poured into the reed at his
lips, and one can almost hear the shrill notes of ‘Yankee Doodle’ above
the noise of battle.

“On the right of the old man marches a boy, hardly in his teens,
whose drum keeps time to the beat of the other. His face is upturned
to the old man, as though he were his grandfather, as if to question
perhaps the route or the danger ahead, but still with a look of rapt
inspiration. No shade of fear lurks in his calm eyes, while the
‘rub-a-dub’ of his little drum sounds as clear and distinct as the
heavier roll of the aged drummer.

“The entire group is conceived with a fervid sympathy which makes
the observer concede sure victory to the combatants; victory also to
the artist. The man who had carried the stars and stripes, marching
under the same thrilling tune, put his heart into the picture. The
work was an inspiration. Mr. Willard had no thought of depicting three
generations of one family, but the inference is so natural that he has
cheerfully adopted it.

“The canvas is large and figures are heroic in size. When finished, the
picture was placed in the show window of my art store in Cleveland. 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 were remarkable. The late
Right Reverend Bishop Bedell was a daily visitor and frequently spent
an entire half day, so deeply was he impressed.

“The painting was finally sent to the Centennial Exposition at
Philadelphia and prominently placed in Memorial Hall, where it created
a notable interest throughout the Exposition. After which by earnest
request it was taken to Boston and exhibited for several weeks in the
Old South Meetinghouse. Thence it was taken to the Corcoran Gallery at
Washington, thence to Chicago, San Francisco, and other cities, always
by request--so great was the desire of the public to see the painting
which had aroused such enthusiasm in the hearts of a patriotic people.
At last it found a permanent home in Abbot Hall at Marblehead, Mass.,
the gift to that old town of the late General J. H. Devereux, who
purchased it from Willard to present it to the town of his birth. It
stands in the old hall which breathes of historic patriotism. It is the
pride of the people of Marblehead and of all Americans who visit it.

“Pictures have been painted by artists of great skill, possessing
qualities of technique of method, valuable beyond the works of other
artists; pictures which give pleasure to experts and connoisseurs. In
the midst of such works ‘The Spirit of ’76’ stands. The eye wanders
from these works of great technique, and is awed by the grandeur of the
old man, by the force of the fervid and devoted group, by the spirit
which invades the whole. Mr. Willard with his powerful but, perhaps,
less finished touch did more than please the eye of experts; he stirred
the heart of a nation.”




Preliminary Sketches
and Replicas

[Illustration: THE FINAL PRELIMINARY CRAYON STUDY SKETCH

Showing one of the stages in the evolution of the finished painting.
Believed to be the only study sketch now in existence]




The Preliminary Sketches and Replicas


A number of preliminary sketches were made. Of these, I believe,
only one is now in existence. It is owned by the Reverend William E.
Barton of Oak Park, Illinois, who was formerly pastor of the First
Congregational Church at Wellington, Ohio. It came into Doctor Barton’s
possession in the following manner. In the preparation of his early
sketches for the preliminary groupings, Mr. Willard was assisted by
Mr. William F. Sawtelle, a photographer of Wellington. Willard gave
this original crayon sketch to Mr. Sawtelle. Mr. Sawtelle preserved
it, expecting to pass it on to his son. His son died. Mr. Sawtelle was
a member of Doctor Barton’s church. Upon the death of his son, Mr.
Sawtelle gave this crayon sketch to Doctor Barton. This original rough
sketch embodies essentially the ideas wrought out in the oil painting,
but naturally it is rough and unfinished. The drummer boy is a head
shorter. His face is in the shadow. The dying man is much too prominent
in the foreground, a mistake which Willard later corrected. Apart from
these points, it lacks altogether the spirit and inspiration which
Willard worked into his finished painting.

Apart from the preliminary sketch referred to in the preceding
paragraph, Doctor Barton possesses an original painting of “The Spirit
of ’76” made by Mr. Willard. This Willard executed in oils and in size
thirty-four by twenty-eight inches. This painting was made in 1916 and
really constitutes the third and last original painting of “The Spirit
of ’76” made by Mr. Willard. The original and the Cleveland replica
are full size. This third painting is really executed in miniature.
Willard did not attempt to make an exact copy; hence, in this small
painting there are many variations from the two larger paintings.
It was presented to Doctor Barton. It was painted by Mr. Willard to
replace a large photograph of “The Spirit of ’76” which was hanging
in Doctor Barton’s home during one of Mr. Willard’s visits. Doctor
Barton’s home then being in Oak Park, Illinois. The Reverend William
E. Barton was for many years a close personal friend of Mr. Willard,
and conducted his funeral services. Mr. Willard died at 4933 Holyoke
Avenue, Cleveland, October 11, 1918. The funeral services were held in
Cleveland, but the burial was in the Willard lot, among his old friends
at Wellington, Ohio.

Doctor Barton also possesses probably the only original sketch made
to convey Willard’s original conception of what he intended to call
“Yankee Doodle,” the idea of which was entirely changed after he met
and talked with Ryder, and a patriotic instead of a humorous conception
was decided on. Doctor Barton had asked Willard if he had any of
his first sketches that were humorous, to which Willard had replied
that he had not preserved any of these. Doctor Barton then asked him
whether he had the original idea of the Fourth of July celebration
which he had intended to call “Yankee Doodle” sufficiently in mind to
make for Doctor Barton a sketch which would embody Willard’s original
conception for the painting. Willard replied that he had this original
idea well in mind and would be glad to make for Doctor Barton a crayon
sketch thereof. A little later Willard made this and in sending this
to Doctor Barton, with characteristic humor entitled it “The First
Sketch that was made Last.” This sketch does not typify “The Spirit of
’76.” It is merely the forerunner out of which “The Spirit of ’76” was
evolved. It is strictly a humorous sketch of Fourth of July musicians
marching. The wonderful inspiration developed in “The Spirit of ’76” is
entirely lacking. This Willard made for Doctor Barton in 1898.

In 1912 a replica of “The Spirit of ’76” was made by Willard himself.
Willard was then 76 years of age. This replica was executed for the
City of Cleveland as a special Commission. This is located in a
prominent place in the new City Hall at Cleveland. It is fitting that
this replica should be available in Cleveland where “The Spirit of
’76” was conceived and executed by a Cleveland artist and painted
from Cleveland and northern Ohio subjects. This replica naturally is
not as well executed as the original. This would be almost impossible
at Willard’s then advanced age. In this replica Willard incorporated
a number of changes. The coloring is different. He changed the
arrangement of the stars from a circle of thirteen stars to a circle
of nine with four stars in the center. He moderated the stride of the
men. He changed the wounded soldier in the foreground to a more upright
position. He changed the drummer boy. The drummer boy who posed in
the Cleveland replica was Willard’s grandson, Williard Connelly, a
Cleveland Central High School boy.

In 1917, another artist, James M. Flagg, painted a picture which
he entitled “The Spirit of 1917” for which he took Willard’s idea,
painting the men to look younger and putting them into modern
uniforms, making a few other changes and then taking credit for having
originated the picture.




 Five hundred copies of this volume were privately
 printed, on Alexandra handmade paper, by The
 Arthur H. Clark Company at Cleveland
 in the month of April, 1926

 *       *       *       *       *




 Transcriber’s note

 Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. All other
 inconsistencies are as in the original.