This two-inch portrait miniature of George Washington is one of the smallest and most significant decorative art items in the BHS collection. Washington is depicted as a military leader, the blue coat and cream waistcoat of his Continental Army uniform topped with the blue silk sash that denoted his status as commander-in-chief. Family legend has it that this miniature was painted by Charles Willson Peale, a prolific portraitist, naturalist, scientist, museum proprietor, and fellow soldier. The soft curves and highlights of Washington’s face, typical of Peale’s style, support this claim.

Between 1772 and 1795, Washington sat down with Peale for no fewer than seven portraits. In 1779, Peale completed a full-length portrait of Washington that celebrated his January 1779 victory at the Battle of Princeton. Even before the painting’s completion, Peale was inundated with requests for copies. The painting also became the source for portrait miniatures of Washington like the one in the BHS collection.

This portrait miniature was given to the Long Island Historical Society (today the Brooklyn Historical Society) in 1883 by Brooklynite Robert Benson (1812–1883). According to Benson, the original local owner was his maternal great-grandfather, Nicholas Couwenhoven from the village of New Utrecht, today the southern section of Brooklyn across the Narrows from Staten Island. 

Following the Revolutionary War, Washington became a patriotic symbol for the new nation and it was common for Americans to display portraits of their first president in their homes. Newly discovered information about Couwenhoven and his journey through the Revolutionary War makes his ownership of this portrait miniature an intriguing mystery.

Although the battles of Lexington and Concord are traditionally highlighted as the unofficial start of aggression during the Revolutionary War, the Battle of Long Island, on August 27, 1776, was the war’s first major military engagement following the adoption of the Declaration of Independence. 

New York City, then colonial America’s second-largest city after Philadelphia, was a strategic target for the British. The American army was desperate to defend the wealthy commercial center with its thriving port from capture. Rural and sparsely populated Brooklyn, just across the East River from Manhattan on the western tip of Long Island, became the opening site of the British army’s New York offensive.

Having anchored hundreds of ships in New York Bay earlier that summer, on August 22, a British force of approximately 15,000 soldiers began moving onto Long Island. Five days later, the British attacked. Washington’s American forces, half the size of the British, were out maneuvered and ambushed near the Vechte-Cortelyou House (today known as the Old Stone House). Hundreds of Americans were killed, more were captured, and Washington was forced to retreat into Manhattan.

The American loss at the Battle of Long Island put Washington on the defensive. Within two months, New York fell to the British, who occupied the region until 1783, when the war ended. The Battle of Long Island may have been a defeat for the Americans, but locals were heartened that Washington’s army escaped to fight another day. Beginning in the 1800s, Brooklynites began considering the battle as an important milestone in the history of colonial America and preserving relics—cannonballs and musket balls—unearthed from the ground as construction reshaped the city.

The original Brooklyn owner of this portrait miniature was Nicholas Couwenhoven. Neither a devoted patriot nor traitorous loyalist, Couwenhoven was a pragmatist who played both sides to protect his own interests. This was in fact common in the Revolutionary Era as many people living in New York or Long Island considered themselves neutral in the fight. 

As was the case with many prominent Kings County landowners, any loyalty Couwenhoven felt to the Revolutionary cause early on cooled following the British victory at the Battle of Long Island and the subsequent occupation of Manhattan and Long Island. In contrast to the droves of Long Islanders who fled to Connecticut following the battle, Couwenhoven elected to stay at his home in New Utrecht and cooperate with British authorities.

Couwenhoven’s wartime network was not limited to the British cause and its supporters. Occupied New York was not a fortress. Instead, it was a melting pot where patriots, loyalists, pragmatists, soldiers, civilians, enslaved people, and prisoners coexisted, at times uneasily. Individuals like Deborah Covenhoven (no known relation to Nicholas Couwenhoven) were routinely granted permission to travel throughout the city to conduct business or to visit with or assist relatives. Travelers needed official orders of permission to go on their way.

Couwenhoven frequently encountered potential enemies on Long Island during the war, all of whom he attempted to appease to protect his own interests. The Couwenhoven family heirlooms in the BHS collection provide evidence of this balancing act. Family history claims that Couwenhoven received this portrait miniature from a grateful American soldier, while a European-made snuffbox, also at BHS, attests to Couwenhoven’s good standing with the British. A British soldier who stayed with the Couwenhovens during the war supposedly gifted them with the snuffbox as a token of gratitude for their hospitality.

Following the American victory, Couwenhoven’s cooperation with the British during the war forced him to act quickly and strategically to defend himself from legal prosecution as a traitor. His portrait miniature played a key role in his defense, becoming proof of his “loyalty” to America.

Couwenhoven family legend claims that Nicholas received this portrait miniature from Colonel Nathaniel Ramsay, a Continental Army lieutenant colonel from Maryland and brother-in-law of the miniature’s creator, Charles Willson Peale. How Couwenhoven and Ramsay became acquainted and the role their relationship, represented by the exchange of this miniature, played in Couwenhoven’s postwar legal battles reveal the little-known history of American prisoners of war during the Revolution.

On June 28, 1778, Ramsay was wounded and captured by the British at the Battle of Monmouth in New Jersey. Like most American prisoners, Ramsay served out his sentence in New York City. Although estimates vary, between 1776 and 1783 as many as 30,000 American soldiers may have been held prisoner throughout the city. Ramsay was lucky. As a high-value officer-captive, he was held in a private home on western Long Island in Flatbush. His captivity was spent in much better conditions than American foot soldiers confined in overcrowded makeshift cells or British prisoner ships like the HMS Jersey, docked in Brooklyn’s Wallabout Bay. As many as 18,000 Americans died while imprisoned, more Americans than perished on the battlefield.

Ramsay’s release took two years to negotiate. During that time, he got to know the locals, including Couwenhoven, who had taken a great interest in American prisoners. Couwenhoven’s wartime account book (in the BHS collection) documents hundreds of dollars of his own money loaned to American prisoners to pay their wartime expenses, including lodging and clothing.

In June 1780, Couwenhoven lent “30 Spanish milled dollars,” or silver coins, to Ramsay and a fellow officer-prisoner, Colonel Oliver Towles, to fund the cost of their travel into Manhattan for a meeting with the British that ultimately ensured their release. While speculative, the role Couwenhoven played in this meeting may have been the reason that Ramsay gifted the miniature of Washington to him.

Nineteenth-century Brooklyn historian Henry Stiles wrote that Couwenhoven’s efforts on behalf of American POWs were “merely a polite concession to the rising fortunes of America,” and indeed, they may have been. In 1783, New York State authorities summoned Couwenhoven to stand trial as a suspected loyalist. For suspected traitors on trial, testimonials and support from family and friends were critical to prove their innocence. Couwenhoven’s most important defense likely came from George Washington himself, who wrote in a letter that he had “frequently heard from the American officers who have been prisoners on Long Island that on all occasions you [were] their friend.” Couwenhoven was cleared of all charges, thanks in no small part to prisoners of war like Ramsay; Ramsay’s brother-in-law Charles Willson Peale; and, of course, Washington. This portrait miniature was most likely Couwenhoven’s ticket to freedom.