Washington crossing the Delaware

German-American artist Emanuel Leutze's 1851 oil painting on canvas, Washington Crossing the Delaware, depicts George Washington's tactical surprise strike during the American Revolutionary War in 1776. Washington, standing erect and statuesque against the sky rather than reclining like his men, is the obvious focal point of the picture, which revolves around a small, dangerously packed rowboat straining through jagged river ice. Leutze modeled Washington's face after Jean-Antoine Houdon's late eighteenth-century bust. Additionally, he placed General Nathanael Greene in the center with a blue coat and tri-corner hat, and Colonel James Monroe waving the American flag beside Washington. A uniformed soldier from Haslet's Delaware Regiment, farmers from Pennsylvania and New Jersey wearing blanket coats, a New England seaman later identified as being of African descent, a recent Scottish immigrant still wearing his Balmoral bonnet, and an enigmatic thirteenth figure whose weapon alone is visible, purposefully obscured, are among the thirteen men on board the boat, each of whose clothing represents a different region and facet of American life. Even while the surrounding setting deviates from reality, a Native American person at the stern, dressed in Northeastern Woodlands attire and quillwork, reflects Leutze's intentional ethnographic research. The blues of the sky and ice contrast with the warm reds, ochres, and olive greens of the humans to create a deliberate warm/cool tension that separates the human drama from the dangerous surroundings. Light serves symbolic rather than natural reasons, even though the actual crossing occurred at night in a snowstorm: a glittering "morning star" in the upper-left sky encourages hope and providence, while a breaking dawn silhouettes Washington's profile. The old flag, undersized boat, ice depicted as chunks rather than sheets, and Washington's improbable standing position are just a few examples of the work's deviations from reality that scholars frequently point out. They contend that these liberties serve the painting's true purpose, which is not documentary accuracy but rather a monumental, unifying image of resolve.