Spain and the American Revolution

Most people think only of France when they think of American allies during the Revolutionary War.  Some may recall the contributions of individual military officers, such as Von Steuben or Pulaski, and think of other countries.  Often overlooked, though, was the contribution of Spain to the American cause.

In a small park in the middle of downtown Philadelphia stands a statue of Don Diego de Gardoqui, who became Spain's first ambassador to the United States.

Born in 1735, he was a Spanish businessman in a successful family business.  He served as a financial intermediary for Spain with the Americans, interacting with John Jay.  Through him, Spain supplied significant arms and munitions.  He died in 1798.

In a letter to Gardoqui after the war, dated January 20, 1786 from Mount Vernon, George Washington noted Gardoqui as one "whose good wishes were early engaged in the American cause, and who has attended to its progress thro' the various stages of the revolution."

Samuel Smith and the Call of Duty

On Federal Hill in Baltimore stands a statue of Samuel Smith.  Smith, who lived into his late eighties, served in both the American Revolution, rising to the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, and then in the War of 1812, leaving the service as a major-general.

Smith was only 24 years old when General George Washington put him in charge of Fort Mifflin on the Philadelphia side of the Delaware River in the fall of 1777.  The bombardment of Fort Mifflin was terrible, among the worst of the war, and ultimately, in November, Smith had to abandon the fort.  He had fought at New York and White Plains, and also Brandywine and Monmouth.  He served in both the Senate and the House of Representatives of the new country, as well as mayor of Baltimore, which he defended against the British during the invasion in the War of 1812.

Another View of Pulaski and Public Art

I've blogged in the past about Casimir Pulaski and commented on the way we memorialize Revolutionary War leaders.  On a recent visit to the Philadelphia Art Museum, I explored the statues of various Revolutionary War leaders who "reside" behind the museum, overlooking the Schuylkill River. Lafayette is one, about whom I recently blogged.  Here is the Pulaski statue:

It is a remarkable pose.  

The statue, along with the others here, were the result of the will of General William M. Reilly to acquire such monuments to Revolutionary War heroes.  More information may be found here.  Pulaski was one of four "foreigners" who devoted themselves to the cause and were actually specified in Reilly's will of 1890.  It was not sculpted until 1947, by Sidney Waugh.

We often take these statues for granted.  They seem to relate to another, more militaristic age.  Maybe they have simply become part of the environment.  Whatever.  It is good to stop and pause, and consider the person so memorialized.  Such were flesh and blood, not bronze and stone.  Perhaps, when we see such an expression on this one, we can get a glimpse into the mind of the person, and consider the reality, and not the image.  

Why We Honor Lafayette

The man who designed the Statue of Liberty, Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi, is responsible for the bronze statue of Marquis de Lafayette in Union Square in New York.

This statue was cast in 1873 and dedicated in 1876, according to the NYC Parks webpage on it.  A gift from the French government, by way of gratitude for aid given by New York City to the French during the Franco-Prussian War.  When the American forces arrived in Paris during the First World War, Lieutenant Colonel Charles Stanton (not General John Pershing) uttered the words "Lafayette, we are here" before the French general's grave.  There are Fayette Counties around the country named for him.

While his courage under fire was demonstrated, his lack of real military experience almost led to disaster at Barren Hill.  Nonetheless, a favorite of George Washington, he also gave significant diplomatic service in maintaining French-American relations.  Still, the fascination and respect afforded Lafayette, like that to Pulaski, Kosciusko, von Steuben and other foreign figures that were generals and officers in the American Revolution, seems to attest to the universality of the philosophical underpinnings of the Revolution.  It also speaks to another time in which people literally put their money where their mouth was, and even more literally, their lives.  These were not the "hit and run" commentators of today's digital world, striking through 140 character comments in the ether.  

We wander our cities and see these statues as part of the landscape, but it is good to remember who these people were and why they continue to be in our consciousness today.

George Washington, Cincinnatus and the Presidency

     A couple of months ago I was in DC and made time to wander through the Smithsonian American Art Museum.  I came upon Washington Resigning His Commission, the 1841 sculpture by Ferdinand Pettrich.

     Framed by a bright light in the afternoon, the statue takes on an otherwordly aspect.  More prosaically, the gallery label notes that Washington turned down the powers offered him by the Congress.  His model was Cincinnatus, the Roman political leader who held dictatorial powers to defeat outside invaders, and relinquished all such powers to return to civilian life after his success.  He resigned the commission on December 23, 1783, in the Maryland State House in Annapolis.  A portrait of the event by John Trumbull hands in the Capitol Rotunda.

     The Smithsonian gallery label says in part: "Ferdinand Pettrich created this work when political power in the United States was being consolidated around the federal government. He may have felt that this historic moment in Washington’s life would remind a new generation of the nation's founding ideals, and of the dangers of too much power given to too few."

     The statue was made in 1841, barely 60 years since the Constitution was adopted.  Today the Imperial Presidency and those who continue to push that office to satisfy ego and narcissism would do well to stand in front of this statue and think about the gallery's suppositions.