Why Washington Stood Up In The Boat (December 1964 | Volume: 16, Issue: 1)

Why Washington Stood Up In The Boat

AH article image

Authors: George F. Scheer

Historic Era:

Historic Theme:

Subject:

December 1964 | Volume 16, Issue 1

America got its first look at Emanuel Leutze’s Washington Crossing the Delaware in New York City in 1851, the year it was completed. A huge canvas it was—21 feet 4 inches by 12 feet 5 inches—and the most ambitious of Leut/e’s whole career. Its exhibition in late October at the Stuyvesant Institute on Broadway drew, in less than two weeks, five thousand viewers. The Evening Mirror pronounced the picture “the grandest, most majestic, and most effective painting ever exhibited in America.” In less than a month, orders were being solicited for the first of many reproductions; and shortly Washington Crossing the Delaware was a fixture in every schoolroom, a “must” illustration in history texts, and a favorite engraving across the continent.

Although the rapturous admiration of the American people for Leutze’s elaborate historical tableau has been tempered by a century of changing artistic taste and judgment, the big canvas has steadfastly remained one of the two or three most popular American paintings. In 1931, with the approach of the bicentennial of Washington’s birth, the public made the shocking discovery that Leutze’s work had been rolled up and put away in the basement of New York’s Metropolitan Museum, whose directors in that era were not much impressed with it as art. An indignant outcry ensued, and by February 22, 1932, the beloved picture was back on display. Today, on indefinite loan from the Metropolitan, it is still viewed by 100,000 pilgrims a year at Washington Crossing State Park, Pennsylvania, where a handsome auditorium lias been built to house this single canvas.

In its century of popularity, the painting has withstood many a skirmish with art critics, historians, and sundry other demurrers and debunkers. The public has often been told that it is neither art nor iiistory. Innumerable historical errors have been charged against Leutzc: he depicted the crossing in daylight when actually it was made in the dark; he showed an American (lag that in 1776 had not yet keen adopted: he cleared tip the snow and exaggerated the ice: he portrayed Washington standing when the General, no fool about boats, would have known better—and so on and on. Such cavils, of course, make no allowance for the artist’s license to forgo historical precision in favor of heightening the dramatic and symbolic effect of his picture. The fascination of Washington Crossing the Delaware has owed much to Leutze’s deliberate combination of realistic visual detail with a lofty disregard for probabilities. What mattered to him was the spirit of the historical event, not the letter—the kind of thing that evoked from a contemporary critic an ecstatic reference to his portrayal of “the countenance of Washington, who carries the American Revolution in his heart.”

Near the end of World War I, the painting excited misguided attacks directed toward the artist’s German background. Leutze, according to one