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In the summer and autumn of 1774, the angry discussions between Great Britain and her Colonies began to assume a very serious tone. "I caught the growing enthusiasm," he says; "the characters of Brutus, of Paulus Emilius, of the Scipios, were fresh in my remembrance, and their devoted patriotism always before my eyes; besides, my father was now governor of the colony, and a patriot, of course surrounded by patriots, to whose ardent conversation I listened daily; it would have been strange if all this had failed to produce its natural effect. I sought for military information; acquired what knowledge I could, soon formed a small company from among the young men of the school and the village, taught them, or more properly we taught each other, to use the musket and to march, and military exercises and studies became the favorite occupation of the day.

"When my mother was preparing and packing up my linen and clothes for this campaign, she said to me, 'My son, when I recollect the sufferings of your infancy, with your present feebleness of constitution, and anticipate the hardships and dangers to which you are about to be exposed, I hardly dare to hope that we shall ever meet again; however, in all events, my dear son, I charge you so to conduct yourself, that if ever I do see you again, it may be with the pride and delight of a mother.'"

On the 19th of April, 1775, the blood of our fathers began to flow on the plains of Lexington. Before the first of May a regiment of troops "started into view as by magic," and were on their march for Bunker Hill. Young Trumbull was adjutant of the regiment. He was the best draughtsman in the army, and his drawings of battle-fields, forts, and fortifications, brought him to the notice of the commander-in-chief, who appointed the young painter his second aid-de-camp. He was afterward detached from Washington's staff, and made a major of brigade at Roxbury. When General Gates took command of the "Northern Department," he offered Trumbull the appointment of adjutant, and he attended him on his northern expedition, where he distinguished himself in the service of the Colonies.

On the 22d of February, 1777, terminated Trumbull's "regular military career." The cause of his resignation he explained in a letter to the President of Congress. His commission as deputy adjutant-general, was dated the 12th of December, 1776-he had served in that office since the 28th of June, by the appointment of Major-General Gates, who was authorized to make the appointment by particular instructions from Congress. Trumbull was right in principle, but the manner of his resignation offended the congress. He would not yield a point of honor, and his course has been justified by some of the most distinguished officers of the Revolution.

"Thus ended my regular military service, to my deep regret, for my mind was at this time full of lofty military aspirations."

Some time after this, he went to Boston and hired a room, in which to study painting. He occupied himself in his art by studies from some excellent paintings; copies, by Symbert, from Vandyck, Poussin, and Raphael. "The war," said he, "was a period little favorable to regular study and deliberate pursuits: mine were often desultory. A deep and settled regret of the military career from which I had been driven, and to which there appeared to be no possibility of an honorable return, preyed upon my spirits;

and the sound of a drum frequently called an involuntary tear to my eye."

In the summer of 1780, Trumbull went to Europe, with the intention of studying painting under Mr. West. He had received the assurance, through the intervention of a friend, from the British Secretary of State, that, notwithstanding his past military life, he could pursue the study of art unmolested, provided he avoided all meddling with politics. He was received kindly by Mr. West, then in the noon of his glory, who, when he saw his copy of the Madonna, said, "Mr. Trumbull, I have no hesitation to say that nature intended you for a painter. You possess the essential qualities; nothing more is necessary but careful and assiduous cultivation."

A movement was set on foot against Trumbull by some American loyalist, and he was arrested for "high treason," and taken off at eleven o'clock at night to a lock-up house in Drury Lane. Examined the next morning by three police magistrates, who seemed to desire to know something about the traitor, he thus addressed them: "You appear to have been much more habituated to the society of highwaymen and pickpockets, than to that of gentlemen. I will put an end to all this insolent folly, by telling you frankly who and what I am. I am an American-my name is Trumbull; I am a son of him whom you call the rebel Governor of Connecticut; I have served in the rebel American army; I have had the honor of being an aid-de-camp to him whom you call the rebel General Washington. These two have always in their power a greater number of your friends, prisoners, than you have of theirs. Lord George Germaine knows under what circumstances I came to London, and what has been my conduct here. I am entirely in your power; and after the hint which I have given you, treat me as you please, always remembering, that as I may be treated, so will your friends in America be treated by mine."

The painter's commitment was made out for a loathsome prison-the only one the Gordon riots had left standing in London-and the first night the son of the Governor of Connecticut slept with a highwayman.

The moment West heard what had befallen his pupil, he "hurried to Buckingham House, asked an audience of the king, and was admitted." "I am sorry for the young man," said the king, "but he is in the hands of the law, and must abide the result; I cannot interpose. Do you know whether his parents are living?" "I think I have heard him say that he has very lately received news of the death of his mother; I believe his father is living."

"I pity him, from my soul!" He mused a few moments, and then added: “But, West, go to Mr. Trumbull immediately, and pledge to him my royal promise, that, in the worst possible event of the law, his life shall be safe." With this kind answer, West hurried away to the prison. "I had now," says Trumbull, "nothing more to apprehend than a tedious confinement, and that might be softened by books and my pencil. I therefore begged Mr. West to permit me to have his beautiful little Corregio and my tools; I proceeded with the copy, which was finished in prison during the winter of 1780-81, and is now deposited in the gallery at New Haven.” After an imprisonment of seven months, Trumbull was liberated on the condition of leaving the kingdom within thirty days, not to return during

the war. On the restoration of peace, he again returned to England, and studied under West. He soon began to meditate seriously of events of the Revolution, which afterward became the great objects of his professional life. The death of General Warren at the battle of Bunker Hill, and of General Montgomery at Quebec, were first painted. "Mr. West witnessed the progress of these pictures with great interest, and strongly encouraged me to persevere in the work of the history of the American Revolution, which I had thus commenced, and recommended to have the series engraved."

This suggestion Trumbull followed up all through life, at a great sacrifice of time, money, and tranquillity. With a view to accomplish his object he visited Paris in 1785, at the invitation of Mr. Jefferson, who was a liberal and enlightened friend of art. The great statesman received Trumbull "most kindly at his house," where he made it his home.

"My two paintings, the first fruits of my national enterprise, met his warm approbation, and during my visit, I began the composition of the Declaration of Independence, with the assistance of his information and ad

vice."

He also made various studies for the Surrender of Lord Cornwallis, and the Battle of Trenton, and Princeton. He also painted, at this period, his celebrated picture of the Sortie from Gibraltar, which Horace Walpole said was "the finest picture he had seen painted north of the Alps."

Trumbull returned the second time to the United States in November, 1789. Congress met in New York early in December. "All the world was assembled there, and I obtained many portraits for the Declaration of Independence, Surrender of Cornwallis, and also that of General Washington in the battles of Trenton and Princeton." He now spent a considerable time in journeying to distant parts of the country, painting portraits of the illustrious men he introduced into his historical pieces-a work which no other man of his time seemed inclined to do.

In 1792, he painted the best portrait extant of Washington as a general, in his heroic military character. It is a full length of Washington at Trenton; and is now in the Trumbull Gallery at New Haven. He was at this time in the prime of life, about forty-five years of age. The portrait most familiar to his countrymen is that of Stuart, which represents Washington as the president, when he was an old man, and the expression of his mouth injured by a set of false teeth. "I told the president my object," says Trumbull; "he entered into it warmly, and, as the work advanced, we talked of the scene, its dangers, its almost desperation. He looked the scene again, and I happily transferred to the canvas the lofty expression of his animated countenance, the high resolve to conquer or to perish."

In the year 1815, Congress authorized the president to employ Trumbull to compose and execute four paintings, commemorative of the most important events of the American Revolution, to be placed in the Capitol of the United States.

The choice of the subjects and the size of each picture, was left to the president, Mr. Madison. In the interview between the artist and the president, it was concluded to make the pictures of dimensions to admit the figures to be the size of life. The four subjects decided upon, were the Surrender of Burgoyne-the Surrender of Cornwallis-the Declaration of

Independence-Resignation of General Washington of his Commission as Commander-in-Chief of the American Army, to Congress. He was employed upon these about eight years, the last being finished in 1824, about which time he had the misfortune to lose his wife. He received thirty-two thousand dollars for these works, from government; but some of his mercantile speculations had turned out badly, obliging him to sacrifice everything to meet his obligations. He says:

"My contract with the government was honorably fulfilled. My debts were paid, but I had the world before me to begin anew. I had passed the term of three-score years and ten, the allotted period of human life. My best friend was removed from me and I had no child. A sense of loneliness began to creep over my mind, yet my hand was steady and my sight good, and I felt the vis vita strong within me. Why then sink down into premature imbecility?

I resolved, therefore, to begin a new series of my paintings of revolutionary subjects, of a smaller size than those in the Capitol, and to solace my heavy hours by working on them. I chose the size of six feet by nine, and began. Funds, however, began to diminish, and I sold scraps of furniture, fragments of plate, etc. My pictures remained on my hands unsold, and to all appearances unsaleable. At length the thought occurred to me, that although the hope of a sale to a nation or to a State became more and more desperate from day to day, yet in an age of speculation, it might be possible. that some society might be willing to possess these paintings, on condition of paying me a life annuity. I first thought of Harvard College, my alma mater, but she was rich, and amply endowed. I then thought of Yalealthough not my alma, yet she was within my native State and poor. I hinted this idea to a friend (Mr. Alfred Smith, of Hartford)-it took-was followed up, and resulted in a contract.”

A gallery, fire-proof, was erected by the college-his pictures arranged under the direction of the artist, and an annuity of one thousand dollars settled upon him for the remainder of his life. Trumbull also made one noble condition in this final disposition of his works, which should alone give immortality to his name. After his death, the entire proceeds of the exhibition of the Gallery, were to be "perpetually appropriated toward defraying the expense of educating poor scholars in Yale College." He says in the close of his autobiography:

"Thus I derive present subsistence principally from this source, and have besides the happy reflection, that when I shall have gone to my rest, these works will remain a source of good to many a poor, perhaps meritorious and excellent man.”

The Trumbull Gallery at New Haven, contains about forty large paintings by the artist, beside nearly two hundred and fifty portraits of persons distinguished during the Revolutionary period, painted by him from life. Among them is that noble, full length of Washington at Trenton. There too are those inimitable battle-pieces-the Death of Warren, at Bunker Hill, and of Montgomery, at Quebec. In these two compositions, "the accuracy of drawing, the admirable coloring, the variety of figures introduced, the force of expression displayed in their attitudes and countenances, with their striking effect as a whole, stamp these productions as

master-pieces of the art." As battle-pieces, they are probably unequaled by those of any artist, living or dead.

These pictures are familiar to most readers, from the engraved copies in the early histories of the United States.

The painting of the Battle of Bunker Hill, "represents the moment (the Americans having expended their ammunition) the British troops became completely successful and masters of the field. At this last moment of the action, General Warren was killed by a musket ball through the head. The principal group represents him expiring; a soldier on his knees supports him, and with one hand wards off the bayonet of a British grenadier, who, in the heat and fury natural at such a moment, aims to revenge the death of a favorite officer, Colonel Abercombie, who had just fallen at his feet. Colonel Small (whose conduct in America was always equally distinguished by acts of humanity and kindness to his enemies, as by bravery and fidelity to the cause he served), had been intimately connected with General Warren-saw him fall, and flew to save him. He is represented seizing the musket of the grenadier, to prevent the fatal blow, and speaking to his friend; it was too late; the general had barely life remaining to recognize the voice of friendship; he had lost the power of speech, and expired with a smile of mingled gratitude and triumph. Near him, several Americans, whose ammunition is expended, although destitute of bayonets, are seen to persist in a resistance obstinate and desperate, but fruitless. Near this side of the painting is seen General Putnam, reluctantly ordering the retreat of these brave men; while beyond him a party of American troops oppose their last fire to the victorious column of the enemy.

Behind Colonel Small is seen Colonel Pitcairn, of the British marines, mortally wounded, and falling in the arms of his son, to whom he was speaking at the fatal moment. Under the feet of Colonel Small lies the dead body of Colonel Abercombie.

General Howe, who commanded the British troops, and General Clinton, who, toward the close of the action, offered his services as a volunteer, are seen behind the principal group.

On the right of the painting a young American, wounded in the sword hand, and in the breast, has begun to retire, attended by a faithful negro; but seeing his general fall, hesitates whether to save himself, or, wounded as he is, to return and assist in saving a life more precious to his country than his own.

Behind this group are seen the British column ascending the hill—grenadiers, headed by an officer bearing the British colors, mounting the feeble intrenchments; and more distant, the Somerset ship-of-war (which lay during the action between Boston and Charlestown), the north end of Boston, with the battery on Copp's Hill; and the harbor, shipping, etc.

No part of the town of Charlestown is seen; but the dark smoke indicates the conflagration."

In the painting of the attack on Quebec, "that part of the scene is chosen where General Montgomery commanded in person; and that moment, when by his unfortunate death, the plan of attack was entirely disconcerted, and the consequent retreat of his column decided at once the fate of the place, and of such of the assailants as had already entered at another point,

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