#james sharples

I found an interesting - yet questionable - miniature of Alexander Hamilton. According to The Walter Art Museum, it was painted by Ellen Sharples, the wife of James Sharples, in 1796. Although the miniature lacks any date or signature.

Ellen Wallace Sharples was an English painter who specialized in pastel portraiture and watercolor miniatures on ivory. She met artist James Sharples in Bath when she became his student. They married in 1787, and she became his third wife. The couple emigrated with their children to the US around 1794, where they would follow in the footsteps of English artists who capitalized on the burgeoning demand for portraiture in the New World. Ellen began drawing portraits professionally around 1797, while they were residing in Philadelphia, to supplement the financial well-being of the family. Ellen's career flourished as a result of her husband's original portraits being copied on request, and her miniature reproductions were sold for the same as her husband's. Miniature portraits, such as the Sharples', were affordable and interesting, and made good gifts to significant others—alternative to Gilbert Stuart's and John Trumbull's larger scale and more formal portraits.

Evidently Ellen's artstyle is almost completely identical to her husband's, as you can see when you compare Ellen's to Sharples's version of Hamilton that was also painted in 1796. Which makes me think Ellen's above was one of the copies she made, considering the similarities and same date. Ellen also made portraits of other notable figures like Washington, Theodosia Burr Alston, and even Elizabeth Hamilton (Also in 1796).

What caught my interest the most though was the braided hair in the back. The contrasting colors indicate that they belonged to separate people, an auburn brown with ginger highlights, and a dark brown. It is my best guess that these were Hamilton's and Eliza's hairs, as they seem to match roughly with them. Eliza kept many clippings of Hamilton's hair, as it was tradition for the time. To quote Susan Holloway Scott; “But hair from from a famous head became more than a mourning memento. It was history, a surviving reminder of a notable man or woman. Famous hair was collected and treasured as a tangible reminder of a more glorious past.” [x] Besides her sons inheriting the treasured strands of hair, she also had a mourning ring with Hamilton's hair locked inside. [x]

And the hairs on Ellen's miniature seem to decently match Hamilton's surviving ones;

@megpeggs​ @historysalt​

Valley Memorialize Summary: Eliza gazed into the mirror, taking stock of her appearance.

Eliza gazed into the mirror, taking stock of her appearance. Her hair had been primped and allowed to fly free, to the point where she hardly recognized herself. It had been so long since she’d done something like this, and it felt strange to see herself in such a state. Reaching up, she tucked the strand of black pearls more securely amid her hair, and made sure that the matching bow was fixed as well.

“Eliza?”

Her eyes left her own image in the mirror and turned to gaze upon Alexander’s reflection. He stood in the doorway, dressed in a simple black coat with a white cravat. Unlike her, he had chosen to powder his hair, giving him that dignified air that he so often sought when sitting for his portraits. Eliza herself had decided against powder, recalling that she had worn powder in her hair the last time she had sat for a portrait – goodness, had it really been eight years?

Elizabeth Hamilton by James Sharples, 1795. Happy birthday Eliza!

“Hers was a strong character with its depth and warmth, whether of feeling or temper controlled, but glowing underneath, bursting through at times in some emphatic expression.”

“I was prepossessed in fav’ of this young Lady the moment I saw her. A Brunette with the most good natured lively dark eyes that I ever saw, which threw a beam of good temper and benevolence over her whole Countenance. [...] I fancy Miss Schuyler had been used to ramble over and climb grounds of this sort for she distained all assistance and made herself merry at the distress of the other Ladies.“

- Tench Tilghman

“She had not the beauty of her splendid mother [...] but the high resolute nature was all there when the young widow found in her own sorrow and her own orphaned children the motive for a life which should lift neglect and sorrow from thousands of children. Her ‘talents’ were many; illustrious names and a powerful family, the tenderest sympathy of a whole nation, and her own pitying loving nature blended with a rare sense of justice - all these she dedicated to the care of orphan children.”

- Jessie Benton Frémont

“Eliza was often the sole defender of her husband's legacy, but she was not a perfect historian. Too close to her subject, she sought to create a perfect image of her husband, which resulted in erasing her husband's history of enslavement from the historical record. Yet Eliza left behind enough information on Hamilton so that current historians can now fill in these gaps in the narrative - especially in relationship to her husband's history as an enslaver. By doing this, we are able to create a fuller, more truthful depiction of Hamilton.

Without Eliza's efforts, we would not have any of the biographies, historical fiction books, the Hamilton musical, or even our own Hamilton Focus Tour. By continuing to tell Hamilton's story honestly, we further not only his legacy, but Eliza's, because it is as much hers as his. Eliza outlived her husband by 50 years, dying in Washington D.C. at the age of 97. Her children decided there was no better place to bury her than next to their father in Trinity Church Churchyard in Manhattan. After fifty long years, she was finally reunited with her Hamilton.”

(After) 1797 James Sharples - Louis Charles d'Orléans, Count of Beaujolais

According to Elizabeth and Hamilton's grandson, Allan McLane, the most accurate in Hamilton's likeness was James Sharples's and John Trumbull's;

"Most of the portraits of Alexander Hamilton, of which there seem to be many, are inartistic and disagreeable, because of their crudity and ugliness, a large number being the work of the peripatetic painters who flourished during the early part of the century, and up to the discovery of Daguerre. Exceptions, however, are the portraits of Trumbull and Sharples. The work of the former is characterized by its dash and spirit, and an artistic excellence which is generally conceded. The merit of the work of the latter lies chiefly in the fidelity of the likeness. The Trumbull portraits of Hamilton are well known, that belonging to the New York Chamber of Commerce having been often copied and engraved. The Sharples portrait, which is here presented, has never been reproduced.”

“James Sharples (or Sharpless), an Englishman, came to the United States in 1796, and won im- mediate popularity through the novelty and cleverness of his profile pastel portraits. That of Washington was followed by many others of persons identified with the Revolution. This picture of Hamilton is from one of his few portraits in oil, a small cabinet picture measuring eight by ten inches, which was owned by my grandmother, Mrs. Alexander Hamilton, who survived her husband fifty-two years, and died in the city of New York in 1856, at the age of ninety-seven years. She bequeathed it to my father, the late Philip Hamilton, who was their youngest son. She always maintained that the Sharples portrait was the only satisfactory likeness she had known. So far as I can learn, it was painted when Hamilton was about thirty-nine years old, and after he had retired from the treasury and had resumed the practice of law in New York.”

(source — The Century)

Alexander Hamilton by James Sharples, c. 1796

Alexander Hamilton by John Trumbull, c. 1806

There is actually a matching portrait by Sharples of Elizabeth too, although Trumbull's is arguably the most beloved and is usually the iconic one you will see whenever searching around Hamilton on the internet.

But of course, there is also the unforgettable marbel bust of Hamilton. By Ceracchi, who was a sculptor from Rome who had proposed to Congress a memorial to the American Revolution, however Congress would decide against his proposal. But that was after he would sculp several prominent figures like; Washington, Jefferson, and as we all know, Hamilton. In July 1792, Ceracchi wrote Hamilton that he was “impatient to receive the clay that I had the satisfaction of forming from your witty and significant physiognomy”. When Ceracchi heard the memorial proposal was rejected, he sent the completed busts to each of his models in 1794. But also hilariously sent them each a bill for the work they didn't ask for. And while Washington tried to return the bust rather than pay that outrageously for a marbel copy of his face, Hamilton shamelessly paid $620 “for this sum through delicacy paid upon cherachi’s draft for making my bust on his own importunity & as a favour to him.” because he wanted that bust for himself if he could.