Stratford Mail

Painting Mr. Pitt

Stratford Hall Historic Preserve, Dr. Gordon Blaine Steffey, Director of Research Season 1 Episode 6

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If you’ve visited Stratford Hall since 2016, you likely noticed the looming full-length portrait of British statesman WIlliam Pitt the elder in our parlor. Standing at 8 feet by 5 feet, it’s difficult to miss! That painting reproduces the original now hanging in the Westmoreland County Museum. From the hand of Maryland painter Charles Willson Peale, the  original shipped from London and arrived at Chantilly, the home of Richard Henry Lee, on April 7, 1769. When Americans still had confidence in the normal political process of the British empire, they commemorated the efforts of British politicos who steered that process in ways sympathetic to the colonies. A painting, a statue, a town named or renamed–-these are among the ways colonists expressed gratitude and aligned themselves politically with power and influence being exercised overseas in Parliament. The Pitt portrait is a by-product of commemorative efforts in the late 1760s before Americans began to despair of substantive change. Ironically, Charles Willson Peale and William Pitt were neither the preferred artist nor the preferred subject for commemorative efforts by Westmoreland County movers and shakers. Tune in to Stratford Mail Episode 6: Painting Mr. Pitt to learn about what might have been, what was, and to learn about an exciting event coming to Stratford Hall on September 9, 2023!

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Stratford Mail

VI. 

Welcome to Stratford Mail, a Production of Stratford Hall Historic Preserve, where the voices of American history still speak. This episode is made possible by the generous support of Chapter 23 of the Colonial Dames of America. Here now is our Director of Research, Dr. Gordon Blaine Steffey.

This month a group of Virginia patriots receive a portrait they didn’t want by an artist they hadn’t commissioned in place of a portrait they paid for by their preferred artist, which they never received.  

The British Parliament’s 1766 repeal of the odious Stamp Act on paper goods led to commemorative efforts in British North America. Some commissioned artworks, others renamed towns and hamlets, in honor of British politicos who spoke openly against the tax. Pittsylvania County, Virginia (so named in 1767) commemorated the celebrated role of William Pitt the elder in opposing the Stamp Act. In Westmoreland County, Virginia, commemorative efforts focused on Charles Pratt, recently titled the Baron Camden, whose opposition to inequitable colonial policies like the Stamp Act and the Declaratory Act rested on his extensive judicial experience and legal acumen. Commemorative efforts slowed down as Americans despaired of achieving redress of their grievances through the normal political process and the sympathetic support of British heroes like Pitt and Camden.  

Stratford-born Arthur Lee, a newly-minted physician with a taste for politics, placed himself in Parliament to hear speeches by Pitt and Camden (who were old friends and political allies) on the subject of repealing the Stamp Act, which Arthur later remembered, “would have immortalized them as orators and statesmen.” Bells rang in Philadelphia on the morning of May 19, 1766, when a ship bearing news of the repeal docked in that city. Celebrations might have been dimmer had Philadelphians paid attention to the Act passed on the same day the Stamp Act was repealed. The Declaratory Act was a blunt statement of the British government’s unlimited authority over the American colonies and it took the shine off the repeal of the Stamp Act by smoothing the way for future revenue bills. “The King's majesty … with the advice and consent of the lords … and commons of Great Britain … had, hath, and of right ought to have, full power and authority to make laws and statutes of sufficient force and validity to bind the colonies and people of America … in all cases whatsoever.” While the ‘great Commoner’ and Whig politico William Pitt see-sawed in his support for some declaratory statement of British privilege over the American colonies (despite his vigorous opposition to the “in all cases whatsoever” clause); Charles Pratt Lord Camden made the unpleasant subtext of the Declaratory Act explicit by tying it to the question of revenue and taxation: “As the affair is of the utmost importance, and in its consequences may involve the fate of kingdoms, I took the strictest review of my arguments; I re-examined all my authorities; fully determined if I found myself mistaken, publicly to own my mistake, and give up my opinion; but my searches have more and more convinced me that the British Parliament have no right to tax the Americans. I shall not therefore consider the Declaratory bill lying on your table; for to what purpose, but loss of time, to consider the particulars of a Bill, the very existence of which is illegal, absolutely illegal, contrary to the fundamental laws of nature, contrary to the fundamental laws of this constitution …. A constitution whose foundation and centre is liberty, which sends liberty to every subject that is or may happen to be within any part of its ample circumference. Nor, my Lords, is the doctrine new, ‘tis as old as the constitution; it grew up with it; indeed it is its support; taxation and representation are inseparably united.” Camden concluded even more forcefully: “The forefathers of the Americans did not leave their native country, and subject themselves to every danger and distress, to be reduced to a state of slavery; They did not give up their rights; they looked for protection, and not for chains, from their mother country; by her they expected to be defended in the possession of their property, and not to be deprived of it: for, should the present power continue, there is nothing which they can call their own.” Camden’s speech went viral; it was reprinted in The Scots Magazine in 1767, and in The London Magazine in 1768 where a header summarized the speech in these words: ‘No taxation without representation.’ And a slogan was born. In the end, Camden was one of five in the House of Lords to vote against the Declaratory Act, which passed by the considerable margin of 125 to 5.  

By June 1766 a group of Virginia subscribers (many of whom backed the Leedstown Resolves) empowered Richard Henry Lee to commission a portrait of Lord Camden “from the wish we entertain that all future Judges may be induced from a contemplation of this worthy Judges picture to recollect those virtues the possession of which procures Lord Camden the love of his Country.” To that end, the subscription paper directed the portrait to be hung conspicuously in the Westmoreland County Courthouse. Pratt had become Chief Justice of the Common Pleas in January 1762, making him one of the three most important judicial officers in the empire. In his four years of service as Chief Justice, he made several key rulings, perhaps none so popular as his decision to discharge from prison John Wilkes, a journalist and Member of Parliament for Aylesbury (1763). Wilkes pleaded parliamentary privilege when he was arrested for libeling King George III in his publication The North Briton No. 45. Parliamentary privilege protected Members of Parliament from arrest except on charges of treason, felony, or breach of peace. Government lawyers argued that since libel tended to breach the peace, Wilkes wasn’t covered by privilege; but Pratt ruled that while libel might tend toward a breach of peace, it clearly wasn’t a breach of peace as such. Wilkes was discharged to the joy of Metropolitan radicals and Pratt enjoyed a glow among radical Whigs. Parliament soon withdrew the protection provided by parliamentary privilege for seditious libel. Wilkes was tried in absentia on a charge of obscene libel for his pornographic parody titled Essay on Woman, which included a charming well-turned couplet on the male parts of then Prime Minister John Stuart, the 3rd Earl of Bute and favourite of King George III, a literary endeavor that earned Wilkes expulsion from Parliament.   

Arthur Lee of Virginia visited Wilkes at the Tower of London in late 1768 when Wilkes (just returned from self-imposed exile in France) was incarcerated on an outstanding conviction. Thus began a productive political alliance, and Wilkes later remembered Arthur as his first and best friend. 

Meantime Pratt distinguished himself in a ruling that informed the 4th and 5th amendments to the US Constitution. In English law, promiscuously broad general warrants allowed law officers to search unspecified places and persons, and to seize whatever they wished, with few exceptions. Probable cause as we understand it did not exist, and colonial law enforcement largely mirrored English practice. Wilkes and 48 others were arrested under a general warrant In the libel case prompted by The North Briton No. 45. In 1762 four agents of Lord Halifax, Secretary of State for the Northern Department, executed a general warrant at the home of London pamphleteer John Entick; they were fishing for evidence of seditious and libellous papers printed in the periodical The Monitor. Officers spent 4 hours tossing the house, and were later found to have caused some £2000 worth of damages (equivalent today to around 400,000 US dollars). Entick sued for damages in 1765, and in Entick v. Carrington, the presiding judge Lord Camden reasoned: “If it is law, it will be found in our books. If it is not to be found there, it is not law. The great end, for which men entered into society was to secure their property. That right is preserved sacred and incommunicable in all instances, where it has not been taken away or abridged by some public law for the good of the whole … By the laws of England, every invasion of private property, be it ever so minute, is a trespass. No man can set his foot upon my ground without my license, but he is liable to an action … If he admits the fact, he is bound to show by way of justification, that some positive law has empowered or excused him … if such a justification can be maintained by the text of the statute law, or by the principles of common law. If no excuse can be found … the silence of the books is an authority against the defendant, and the plaintiff must have judgment. According to this reasoning, it is now incumbent upon the defendant to show the law by which this seizure is warranted. If that cannot be done, it is a trespass.” Camden held that Halifax had no right either by statute or precedent to issue such a warrant and awarded assessed damages to Entick, whose case helped to shape future reflection on the basic tension between personal rights and the state’s need to collect evidence for use in prosecutions. To the Virginians seeking his portrait, Judge Camden was a consistent champion of civil liberties and an opponent of state overreach; his role in the Stamp Act debates and eventual repeal was simply a recent case in point. 

On June 1, 1767, Richard Henry Lee asked his relation and agent in London Edmund Jenings to carry this letter to Lord Camden:

My Lord,

Wonder not, my Lord, that the people in this remote part of his Majestie’s dominions revere your Lordships character, since there is no part of the British Empire but feels the influence of Lord Camdens virtue. America in particular must ever regard your Lordship as the Patron of its liberty, the best possession of human nature. Prompted by gratitude they entreat your Lordship will condescend to accept their humble thanks, and favor them with permitting your picture to be taken, that it may remain a memorial to posterity of their veneration, and of the inestimable benefit derived to British America from your Lordships protection. I have the honor to be, with the most profound respect, my Lord, your most humble and obedient servant,

Richard Henry Lee.  

An accompanying letter to Jenings transmitted £76.8 to engage a portraitist, a fee that would include the portrait, a plain gilt frame, and shipping costs. But while the subscribers preferred famed British portraitist Joshua Reynolds, founder of the Royal Academy of Arts, Richard Henry preferred to engage an American, specifically, Benjamin West, who worked chiefly in Pennsylavnia before resettling in England in 1763, and eventually succeeding Reynolds at the Academy. Money permitting, Richard Henry requested a full length portrait of Camden attired in his judges’ robes. Curiously, it had already been done. A full-length portrait of Judge Pratt in his judicial robes by Joshua Reynolds had been hanging in London’s Guildhall since February 22, 1764. 

Richard Henry concluded his request to Jenings with apologies for tasking him, but remarks, “I thought you would not be displeased at this testimony of our esteem for the Patriot whose virtue has saved our common country.” In his return letter of 10 November 1767, Jenings replied that he was indeed “ambitious of receiving and executing” this particular directive, as he shared their esteem for Camden, and mentions not only his successful approach to Camden (now Lord High Chancellor in William Pitt’s government) but also his view that West was the “properest Person to be employed in this Business … He is ambitious that his hand should be the means of perpetuating American gratitude.” In a letter one year later (7 November 1768), Jenings reports a series of “almosts” in his efforts to bring Camden and West together for a sitting, and the undertow of the letter is that it’s unlikely to happen anytime soon if at all. In something like an apologetic gesture, Jenings ships a substitute portrait in the meantime, an 8 feet by 5 feet painting of William PItt, now Lord Chatham, done by Marylander Charles Willson Peale, relatively new to painting (certainly new to portraiture), and just then studying under Benjamin West in England. 

Jenings’ half-brother, Judge Beale Bordley of Annapolis, helped to finance Peale’s study abroad and equipped him with a letter of introduction to Jenings.  As to the substitution of Pitt for Camden, Jenings explained to Richard Henry: “But as the honest Cause of America hath been supported by the true Liberallity of that great man, Lord Chatham, I could wish that his merits were not forgot and therefore take the Liberty of sending you by Capt Johnstoun his portrait, which if you think is worthy of the acceptance of the Gentlemen of Westmoreland, I beg you would offer them in my name.” Now the expression Gentlemen of Westmoreland is something of a misnomer for the portrait subscribers, three of whom were, according to the subscription paper, women subscribed in their own names. These women were Hannah Corbin (mistress of Peckatone Hall about 20 miles downriver from Stratford and sister to Richard Henry Lee), Elizabeth Steptoe (mistress of Stratford Hall, married to Richard Henry’s brother Philip Ludwell Lee), and Anne Steptoe Washington (future mistress of Harewood plantation, sister to Elizabeth Steptoe, and wife of Samuel Washington, George’s younger brother). In a letter dated August 15, 1769, Jenings explained what happened with Camden: “I should have been happy, if I could have sent that of Lord Camden … but the last time I made an application … He expressed himself nearly in these words ‘You cannot but imagine, that the compliment, which hath been paid to me by the Gentlemen in Virginia is highly flattering to me, and that I should be proud in complying with their Request, but Consider the present situation of affairs, and my station–I think the colonies cannot doubt of my disposition towards them–I am in greatest Hopes, that Things will take such a turn next winter, that I may without Impropriety, comply with the Promise.’ While his appreciativeness may have been sincere, Camden had a knack for keeping his place while the political terrain shifted around him, and sitting for the Americans was too impolitic for his ambition. Though Jenings wasn’t ready to concede on Camden, Arthur Lee proposed shifting the sitter from Camden to Whig leader Lord Shelburne, a friend and ally of PItt and Camden, and cultivated by Arthur Lee for his conciliatory stance toward the American colonies. That shift did not happen, but in 1784 Arthur named his Lansdowne estate in Urbanna, Virginia for Lord Shelburne, who was by then the Marquess of Lansdowne.   

On April 21st, 1769, William Rind’s Virginia Gazette published notice of the arrival in Westmoreland of Charles Willson Peale’s “masterly performance” of William Pitt. The portrait, ripe with warnings and portents of revolution, arrived at Chantilly on April 7, 1769, and it hung in Richard Henry Lee’s home until his death in 1794, when it shifted to Stratford Hall and hung there until 1821. Stratford’s owner the ill-reputed Henry Lee IV (the last Lee to own Stratford) would soon be compelled to sell Stratford to cover his debts, but in advance of that sale he made good on the intent behind Jenings’ gift of the Pitt portrait, namely, that it belong to the folks of Westmoreland County. Lee had the portrait and relevant papers delivered to its new residence, the old Courthouse in Montross, where its new adventures began, a story for a different day.

An American historian and biographer of painter Charles Willson Peale (Charles Coleman Sellers) had this to say about the Pitt painting: “It is hard for us today to appreciate the Pitt portrait–this young man’s effort to present a hero in heroic terms. To present-day eyes it is not good portraiture, not even fine art. It is an inflated political cartoon.” This grand canvas, which stands at the headwaters of the Revolutionary struggle, expressive of all the anxiety, defiance, confidence, and hope of those early fractures and strains must be experienced in person. And you should do just that this September at a special one-day event!

[Join us at Stratford Hall on September 9th, 2023 for an exciting symposium, "Pitt, Peale, and the Patriots," a collaborative event put on by Stratford Hall, Preservation Northern Neck and Middle Peninsula, and the Westmoreland County Museum. This daylong symposium features several engaging talks from diverse experts on the history of Peale’s portrait of legendary British politico William Pitt, analysis of its political and artistic significance, and close study of the art and value of reproducing the portrait for Stratford Hall. The symposium opens with a keynote address at 1 p.m. and concludes with a reception and viewing of the original portrait from 6:15 to 7:30 p.m. Distinguished speakers include historians, artists, and conservation professionals!

Seating is limited, so be absolutely sure to reserve your tickets today! Ticketing information and a link to purchase your tickets are available at stratfordhall.org/events-programs. Are you traveling from distance to attend? Stratford Hall offers elegant, affordable lodging; reserve your room at stratfordhall.org/lodging.]

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Sound effects courtesy of Pixabay
Music is William Ross Chernoff's "In Shadows"
AI voices courtesy of Play.ht and Murf.ai (except Dr. Steffey)

© Dr. Gordon Blaine Steffey, 2023



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