By Janis Parker
Patience Lovell Wright was feisty, unpredictable and independent. She grew up on a family farm in Oyster Bay, New York, in a family of devout Quakers. When she was 4 years old, the family moved to Bordentown, New Jersey.
Patience and her sister Rachel would play with mud as children, molding figures and faces. Their mother severely scolded them because she believed only God was a creator of human likenesses.
John Lovell, Patience’s father, was prosperous. He was frugal and firmly believed in Quaker principles. He believed self-denial had hidden powers. White clothing signaled innocence. The family attended religious services at the Friends Meeting House on Farnsworth Avenue.
The Lovell girls made dyes from herbs and paints, inspired by the colors created by Native tribes. They painted skillfully. Their mother did not approve of their creations but eventually tolerated them.
Patience was determined to plot a way to freedom from such severe restrictions in Philadelphia, where the arts were flourishing. Philadelphia was easily accessible by ferry from Bordentown, so it was not surprising that Patience escaped the family home at age 16 and moved there.
In 1748, when she was 23 years old, she met and married Joseph Wright, a fellow Quaker who was many years her senior and earned his living as a self-supporting barrel maker.
Joseph Wright’s sister Elizabeth married John Imlay of Bordentown. John was a young shopkeeper and trader. At this point in his life, John was branching out to become a land broker.
It was through Imlay that the newlyweds bought a house in town on Main Street in 1748. It was located directly across the cobblestoned street from Col. Joseph Borden’s residence.
Soon they started a family. The youngest child was born after her husband had died. A Bordentown neighbor, Francis Hopkinson, had married Col. Borden’s daughter Ann and also lived across the street from the Wrights.
Hopkinson, largely known for signing the Declaration of Independence, was also a talented artist, credited with the design of the first American flag, as well as being a poet, violinist and composer. Hopkinson saw the skill of Patience’s wax sculptures and financially supported her endeavors.
The Wrights’ children included Mary, the firstborn, followed by Elizabeth. Joseph, their only son, was born in 1756; the third daughter, Phoebe, was born in 1761. The youngest child, Sarah, called Sally, was born after her husband died.
Patience began working with her sister Rachel Wells, also a widow and gifted artist and sculptor, in Philadelphia to turn their pastime into a successful business.
Patience and her sister set out on tour seeking the patronage of the elite. Their waxwork shows were on display as they toured throughout the colonies. Rachel’s home was in Philadelphia; Patience moved to New York.
Patience’s subjects became her friends. She was respected and vigorous. The New York Waxworks was at No. 100 on the upper end of Queen Street, where there were miniature wax figures of the Queen of Sheba and King Solomon among the 70 small statues.
This studio became a place for discussion of people, times, anecdotes and information. Her art was praised as she proceeded to Boston, a serious venue to display her traveling waxwork, leaving her older daughter in charge.
It was here that Patience met Ben Franklin’s sister Jane Mecom by chance. Jane was Ben’s closest confidant and was delighted to introduce Patience to her brother.
In 1770, Francis Hopkinson visited England. He was a close friend of Benjamin Franklin, as well as other Americans. He established friendly terms with the British ruling class. He was engaging and pleasant. Not a tall man, but buoyant, he brought an aura to a group.
In London, Patience continued to meet with Ben Franklin. The premise was that she wanted to create likenesses of the British nobles to show Americans what Londoners really looked like. This assumption established a welcoming environment and a comfortable workplace.
As she molded likenesses of her subjects, she chatted about her Quaker childhood, its traditions, wearing only white, wearing wooden shoes, abstaining from meat and the use of leather, and fashioning people out of mud. This conversation amused them.
It was in this way she encountered Benjamin West, an American-born artist living in London who specialized in historical paintings. He was likely the person who introduced her to King George III.
It was in 1771, while Patience was away, that a fire broke out in the New York Waxworks studio. Most of her work was destroyed. She returned to her family and leaned on them for support as the tragedy brought new energy to promoting her artwork.
Patience was known for her unconventional behavior, disregarding whether the person was male or female, prominent or an unknown bohemian, and responding to her encounters with individuals. She became a dear friend and ally of Benjamin Franklin as both were hoping for a peaceful reconciliation between England and the American colonies.
Patience always wore an apron since she tirelessly kneaded wax for sculpting and needed to keep it warm and pliable on her lap between her legs. She sculpted by touch with the pliant wax in her lap to recreate faces and features. When the sculpture pieces were complete, she removed them from between her legs.
Her technique was indelicate, prompting more curiosity but also candid interactions. Being brazen, Patience spoke her mind to everyone she encountered, including the king of England, about the cruelty inflicted by the British military on the citizens of Concord, Massachusetts. In return, English citizens viewed her as an uneducated, primitive American with a penchant for complaining.
It could be significant to note that Patience’s mother was a Townsend by birth. This is possibly relevant, as her cousins, the Townsends, were instrumental in Gen. George Washington’s circle, the Culper Spy Ring. Patience was not officially part of that group. However, her correspondence with Ben Franklin and indirect connection with George Washington are noteworthy.
Patience would meticulously model a bust, complete with authentic fabric costume and human hair. She would box these carefully and mail them to Franklin.
These scrupulously detailed sculptures literally provided inside information. Patience collected plans from conversations with diplomats, who were her subjects, while molding their likenesses. Her handwritten notes in tiny print were carefully rolled, sliced and resealed into the heads of the sculptures. Franklin had to smash the art to uncover the secrets.
But Patience depended on her trusting relationship with Benjamin Franklin and his sister. Though these plans were not always accurate, they played a vital role in the information provided about the conflict. Franklin was in close touch with France, an ally of the colonies. He knew the band of Patriots was struggling and could benefit from assistance the French could provide.
As she molded the faces of British politicians and lords, Patience began casually sharing false information deliberately given by Franklin. The British were concerned about her loudly whispered rumors of nonexistent French naval fleets and secret alliances.
By 1778, British intelligence realized its military plans were leaking. King George discerned that the arrogant American woman was actually someone his inner circle needed to watch and listen to carefully. The king’s advisers indicated that Patience was the only American citizen with unmonitored access to the royal living quarters.
At this point, Patience was no longer welcomed and lost her best source of income. Even more concerning was the realization that she was now under scrutiny by the British secret police. Men in casual garb were watching her door constantly and followed her everywhere, even to the grocery store. Her mail had been secretly opened and resealed.
The penalty for high treason was public hanging. But Patience was determined to provide the last scraps of information regarding a massive British invasion to end the American rebellion.
She began frantically working on her last masterpiece in the night. She wrote the fragments of information she had gathered in microscopic print. These included troop numbers, shipping manifests and whispered rumors.
Now banned from the king’s inner circles, Patience gleaned information from sympathetic merchants, clerks and drunken officers in the tavern. Patience learned about the British strategy to attack the South, into Virginia. This was crucial information she needed to share with Ben Franklin and the French commanders. This could end the war.
Patience needed to find a sculpture of a respected British aristocrat she had constructed with realistic detail. She then held her iron sculpting knife, slicing open the crown of the head, pulled back the human hair and dropped in the destiny of the British Empire, pouring molten wax to seal the seam and carefully restyling the hair.
She hired a cart driver to carry the heavy wooden crate to the dock to be shipped. Patience waited back in her studio so that when the secret police stopped the cartman, she was not with him.
The customs officer crowbarred open the box and inspected it for hidden compartments. Instead, they found a flawless wax face, with realistic glass eyes, completely innocent and fragile-looking. The authorities could not find any hidden plans from a loud American widow who furtively had outsmarted the British intelligence network.
The crate was nailed shut and sent to a Paris hotel. Franklin shattered the wax sculpture and opened the tiny notes. This information was communicated to George Washington, who moved his troops from the North to the South, and the French fleet sailed into the Chesapeake Bay.
Gen. Cornwallis, at Yorktown, was trapped. The French held the sea; Washington held the land. In October 1781, after a brutal siege, the Redcoats surrendered, thus ending the American Revolution.
Patience remained in London. The British remained oblivious to her orchestration of their military defeat. The wealthy elite were once again eager to have their faces sculpted by the eccentric woman from the colonies.
Patience did continue to correspond with Franklin and Washington, with requests to help her return to her American country. Her pleas were politely declined, as they were aware of the possible risks.
Patience apparently died after a fall in London on March 23, 1786. Her death is still regarded by some as being under questionable circumstances. Her gravesite is unknown to this day.
Although she created 55 sculptures and wax figures during her lifetime, her only surviving full-scale sculpture, William Pitt, is displayed at Westminster Abbey in London.
She remained a true patriot to the end.
Janis Parker is a resident of Bordentown.
