The Painter’s Fire: A Forgotten History of the Artists Who Championed the American Revolution, by Zara Anishanslin.

Author Zara Anishanslin, a historian and professor at the University of Delaware, explores and documents these transatlantic Patriots (her capitalization). Her work of considerable scholarship digs deeply into the 18th century’s social, political, and artistic milieu, her narrative highlighting some interconnected artists well-known in their time but not so much in ours.

Adventurous Patriots

Anishanslin begins with the story of Prince Demah, a gifted enslaved painter, named by his mother Daphny as a tribute to his African heritage. Demah, also an accomplished merchant seaman (his tale reads like an adventure novel), dropped the surname of his enslaver (John Barnes) as he became known for his artistry. Working his passage across the Atlantic as a sailor, encouraged by and accompanying Barnes as his valet, Demah arrived in London to study painting. At that time (as now), the city was pulsing with creativity and diversity, and in 1773, Demah returned to Boston and began to build his artistic reputation.

As Demah begins his studies in London, the author entwines his narrative with that of his teacher, well-known London artist Robert Edge Pine, most likely also a man of African heritage. Pine’s home and very successful studio were in St. Martin’s Lane, London’s creative center at the time, and Demah made artistic progress and connections as he worked in that environment. Both men shared “an attachment to the American revolutionary cause,” something Pine made visible in the overt symbolism of his popular works.

A third artist in Anishlanslin’s historic lens is wax sculptor Patience Wright, well-established in America, who crossed the Atlantic in her mid-40s to carve out a new career abroad. Wax sculpture was a highly demanding process, one very popular in the 18th century, and “she took London by storm” when she arrived in Britain in 1773—armed with a highly sought-after letter of introduction to revered statesman, writer, and scientist Benjamin Franklin.

Champions of American liberty, here and abroad

Throughout the volume’s 14 fact-packed chapters, these three people intertwine with dozens of others (including the great poet Phyllis Wheatley) as they worked in a variety of ways for the cause of American liberty both here and abroad.

In 1777, Prince Demah “washed his identity clean” of slavery, dropping the surname of his enslaver and enlisting in the Massachusetts artillery regiment known as the Train, which prided itself on being filled with “Gentlemen Volunteers” and artisans like Paul Revere. Britons were “charmed by [Wright’s] images of Americans like Franklin and [John] Dickinson” and she “capitalized on this fascination to gather intelligence for America” and pass it on to Franklin. And around 1775, Pine began to paint portraits of writers and statesmen whose sympathies lay with the Americans, becoming ever “more strident in using art to make political statements.”

The author intertwines these narratives, undergirding their stories with detailed historicity and research. Throughout the volume, familiar names appear, but they are mostly ancillary characters, as Anishanslin brings forward a host of lesser-known but important players. To follow her narrative, it’s not necessary to consult the author’s 79 pages of footnotes, but many of them provide fascinating reading on their own.

An enlightening birthday gift

The Painter’s Fire is packed with discoveries, and though it sometimes meanders historically through the 18th century, the book always comes back to the author’s central thesis: There were many more players (artists and creatives) in our struggle for independence than have come down in popular lore. Each chapter leads the reader inexorably forward through the era, sometimes slowly but always engagingly, as Anishanslin chronicles the century’s intricate social, political, and artistic milieu to create a more vivid and rounded portrait of a time we think we know.

Anishanslin begins her convincing Epilogue by stating that “revolution destroys as much as it creates,” its narratives “often shaped by . . . whose stories were deliberately hidden.” Her three protagonists all died before they were able to produce the larger bodies of work that might have afforded them greater acclaim. But the intertwined lives of Demah, Pine, and Wright (and others) make clear that today’s popular image of a patriot is only part of our story.

The author sums it up best. “Not all Patriots were white. Not all Patriots were men. Not all Patriots wielded words or swords as their primary weapons. And not all Patriots fought the war in North America.” Especially in Philadelphia, as the 250th year of our founding looms, it’s enlightening to meet a cadre of patriots who fought using creativity, connections, and artistic flair. The Painter’s Fire is a fitting national birthday gift.