Historians love anniversaries. This should hardly be surprising, because the basic unit of measurement in which they work is time. But while the “cult of the commemoration” has been expanding across the United Kingdom since the late nineteenth century, reaching epidemic proportions in the present day, the idea of marking the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the American Declaration of Independence with an exhibition in Nottingham, at the heart of the English East Midlands, might appear quixotic. Nottinghamshire is a county more usually associated with the legendary character of Robin Hood and the villainous Sheriff of Nottingham. Given this enduring association, how might a pivotal moment in the origin story of the United States be made relevant to contemporary local audiences, who might otherwise regard it as one of those frequent historical quarrels “in a faraway country, between people of whom we know nothing?”Footnote ¹

This was the practical challenge that faced me as the academic curator of “We the People. America’s Fight for Freedom and Beyond,” a six-month exhibition hosted at the University of Nottingham’s Weston Gallery between April and September 2026, timed to coincide with the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of American independence. The Weston Gallery, which forms part of the University’s Lakeside Arts, is a bespoke exhibition space operated by the University’s Manuscripts and Special Collections (Figure 1).

Figure 1.

View of the Weston Gallery with some of the exhibition content from “We the People.” Photo by the author.

Lakeside Arts forms part of the University’s wider cultural offering to residents, hosting performances and installations in music, drama, dance, and the creative arts. Exhibition audiences at the Weston Gallery are diverse in age and profile, as well as in their preexisting levels of knowledge. Invited academic curators work closely with archivists and gallery designers to curate the exhibition’s contents, design visually appealing and accessible exhibits, and promote exhibition themes through a program of supporting events, including lunchtime talks and film-screenings, witness-seminars, and hands-on history workshops. The dual purposes served by the exhibitions, in terms of their reach and significance, is reflected in their subject matter, which has encompassed globally renowned Nottinghamshire writers such as D. H. Lawrence and Lord Byron; significant local employers like Raleigh Bicycles and Boots the Chemists; and Nottinghamshire’s connections with significant anniversaries, including the bicentenary of the Battle of Waterloo. Exhibitions retain a digital presence after they are deinstalled and inform subsequent academic outputs through articles and monographs. As such, they publicize the work of academic faculty at Nottingham while promoting interest in, and increased use of, its Manuscripts and Special Collections, which have been a distinctive part of its holdings since University College, Nottingham, was founded nearly 150 years ago.Footnote ²

Nottinghamshire was at the heart of Britain’s Industrial Revolution in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, with its heavy extractive industries (notably coal mining) and its global role in the production and distribution of textiles, hosiery goods, and manufactured lace. But the county was also notable for the vibrancy of its radical, intellectual, and political thought, and the high proportion of religious nonconformists among its resident population. By the time of the American Declaration of Independence, the county town of Nottingham had begun to jettison the political influence of local aristocratic patrons in favor of an unashamedly independent commitment to religious and civil liberty. As such, its interest in, and connections with, the newly declared United States of America were more extensive than might first appear. As one contemporary annalist observed, “in this feeling Nottingham shared very deeply; and a strong party of sympathizers with the colonists, in their resistance to the impositions of the government at home, existed among all ranks of the people.”Footnote ³

However, the county’s interest in North America long preceded the events of 1776. Families from north Nottinghamshire and neighboring Lincolnshire predominated among the Mayflower Pilgrims who left Plymouth in 1621 to establish a community of religious and political freedom on the eastern seaboard of North America. Notwithstanding the intervention of COVID-19, these local connections were at the heart of the four hundredth anniversary commemorations, with an exhibition at the Weston Gallery in 2021.Footnote ⁴

The imprint of Anglo-American exchange with the county can also be found in the extensive archival collections generated by Nottinghamshire’s major aristocratic families, chief among them the landowners whose estates constituted the “Dukeries.” This description was coined by that inveterate eighteenth-century commentator, Horace Walpole, but it neatly—and enduringly—described the accumulated concentration of wealth and influence to be found in the Nottinghamshire estates of Clumber (Dukes of Newcastle), Welbeck (Dukes of Portland), Thoresby (Dukes of Kingston), and Worksop (Dukes of Norfolk), which neighbored one another in the heart of Sherwood Forest. The manuscript survivals of these families became progressively available to researchers, as the collections were deposited with the University of Nottingham from the 1930s onward.Footnote ⁵

The surviving material is particularly rich in insights regarding the political disputes between Britain and its American colonies, from the end of the Seven Years’ War in 1763, through the Revolutionary Wars of 1775–83, to the achievement of independence thereafter. The “We the People” exhibition drew upon them extensively, not least because of the variety of perspectives they reveal. The Newcastle of Clumber collection includes important correspondence between Henry Clinton, commander of the British forces in North America after 1778, and his cousin the 2nd Duke of Newcastle. The Portland of Welbeck collection includes the papers of the leading Whig politician, William Cavendish Bentinck, 3rd Duke of Portland, during whose administration the peace treaty with North America was signed. Given the close connections between political and military service in eighteenth-century aristocratic families, it is unsurprising to find long runs of correspondence about the conduct of the American campaign (in both its military and political dimensions) in the papers of other local families, including the Mellish of Blyth collection. Nottinghamshire was unique in providing two successive commanders of British military forces during the Revolutionary Wars: in addition to Henry Clinton’s papers, it is possible to trace the impact of events upon the career of William Howe, whose family owned Langar Hall in Nottinghamshire.Footnote ⁶

Howe, who was born in 1729, was an experienced military officer before serving in North America. By 1776, he was also a long-serving member of Parliament for Nottingham, having first been elected in 1758. The growing prominence of American affairs in British politics was reflected at the general election of 1774, when Howe was questioned on the hustings about the likelihood of being sent to fight in North America. Howe was openly sympathetic toward the colonists and opposed Britain’s methods for reasserting control, leading his constituents to believe that he would refuse a military commission. However, his subsequent decision not only to serve but to take command of the British forces, succeeding Thomas Gage, rebounded upon him in unexpected ways. Despite having captured New York and Philadelphia for the British in 1776, for which he was rewarded with a knighthood, Howe then suffered a series of military reverses that culminated in defeat at the Battle of Saratoga in October 1777. He resigned his command to Henry Clinton the following year before returning to Britain in 1779. On arrival, Howe demanded a parliamentary inquiry into his conduct in order to vindicate his actions. That inquiry found no evidence of personal mismanagement. This outcome did not satisfy Howe’s opponents on either side of the Atlantic, including the American loyalist Joseph Galloway, who continued to publish attacks against him. Among Howe’s critics was a Nottingham constituent, Samuel Kirk, a grocer on Long Row, who attacked Howe for reneging on his declarations at the 1774 election. Howe referenced his overriding sense of duty and observed that:

Howe’s defense was insufficient to prevent defeat when he stood for reelection at Nottingham, in the general election of 1780.

Howe’s successor, Henry Clinton, fared somewhat better in terms of local public opinion. While his legacy among historians, as commander of military forces between 1778 and 1782, was forever influenced by the British surrender at Yorktown in October 1781, contemporary accounts offer an alternative perspective. In June 1780, Clinton’s capture of Charlestown was celebrated in Nottingham with prolonged ringing of church bells, illumination of houses, and the lighting of bonfires. When two large pieces of cannon were discharged in the Market Place, one of them “being overcharged, burst into pieces, fortunately without loss of life. The congregation of people was immense.” Nor did Clinton’s popularity diminish after Yorktown. The letters of the British army surgeon John MacNamara Hayes record the “widespread” regret that accompanied Clinton’s departure from New York aboard HMS Pearl in May 1782. In the same month, the British achieved a notable naval success against America’s French allies in the West Indies. When news of this reached Nottingham, “All the customary displays of popular delight were indulged in, and at night there was a very brilliant and general illumination.” Hayes concluded that if Britain had achieved this victory a year earlier, there would have been peace and Clinton feted as the “idol of the world.” As it was, his departure from North America and the change of government at home would lead to decisive measures, but “to lose this country would be beyond bearing.”Footnote ⁸

The differing approaches of Howe and Clinton, and the ways in which they were received among Nottinghamshire people, reflected the deep-seated tensions that the American cause raised across Britain. This was particularly evident in Nottingham. After the Battle of Bunker Hill in 1775, a publican in the town had “a representation of the battle painted and suspended in front of his house as a sign,” at which spectators would stop “to gaze upon the unintelligible square masses of figures of which the composition consisted [and to hear] the conduct of the person who caused the sign to be put up both condemned and praised in very strong terms.”Footnote ⁹ This unofficial local memorial had a long-term significance, as it led to the naming of “Bunkers Hill,” which still exists between Hockley and Sneinton in Nottingham.

Consequently, when news of the American Declaration of Independence reached Nottingham, it served to harden local divisions still further. As Thomas Bailey later recalled:

The resources held in Manuscripts and Special Collections at Nottingham illustrate the furious “paper war” that ensued between supporters and opponents of the American cause, with a notable increase in publications following the Declaration of Independence (Figure 2).Footnote ¹¹

Figure 2.

Mike and Charlotte Bailey, who perform with “The Madding Crowd,” listen to their recording of verses from “Anacreon in Heaven,” a popular satirical tune that was later used in the US national anthem. Photo by the author.

One of the more significant contributions came from the pen of Major John Cartwright, who was afterwards remembered in Britain as the “Father of Reform.” Although Cartwright’s family had strong aristocratic connections and lived at Marnham Hall in Nottinghamshire, the range of their political and intellectual interests is reflected in the fact that John’s older brother Edmund was subsequently immortalized as the inventor of the power loom. John Cartwright, who became a major in the Nottinghamshire militia in 1765, published his first pamphlet on behalf of the American colonists in 1774. However, his most enduring long-term contribution came with the publication of Take Your Choice! two years later. This outlined a program of domestic political reform, encompassing universal manhood suffrage, annual parliaments, and the secret ballot, which was to influence British radicals for the next two generations, providing the blueprint for the Six Points of the People’s Charter in the Chartist campaigns of the 1830s and 1840s. Moreover, unlike William Howe, John Cartwright refused to take up arms against the American colonists, refusing a promising naval commission in conformity with his principles.Footnote ¹²

However, Cartwright continued to serve in the Nottinghamshire militia until his enforced dismissal in 1782. This reflected the need to augment the militia for defensive purposes in Britain while releasing regular troops to fight in North America. The impact of recruiting parties is demonstrated by the fact that many apprentice framework knitters were seduced by the inducements held out to them. One recruiting poster promised:

Notwithstanding its growing reputation as a radical town, Nottingham residents proved susceptible to these types of promises. For example, in February 1778, a recruiting party of the Royal Manchester Volunteers, “accompanied by a number of butchers, who rang melodious peals on their cleavers,” succeeded in enlisting fifty local recruits. However, during the same period—and without any apparent contradiction—the town’s citizens contributed toward a financial relief fund on behalf of American prisoners of war confined in English prisons, the “destitute condition in which the captives were kept rendering the exercise of benevolence necessary.”Footnote ¹⁴

The prolonged economic impact of the American campaign was also felt in Nottingham, and by 1780, the town was petitioning Parliament because of “a very large addition to the national debt, a decline of trade, a rapid and distressful decrease in the value of landed property, and a grievous accumulation of taxes” arising from the conflict. The polarizing effect of the war was also reflected in Nottingham’s reaction to the loss of Yorktown in October 1781:

Over the long term, the American Declaration of Independence undoubtedly contributed to a growing partisanship in Nottingham politics, which the French Revolution of 1789 was afterwards to raise to new levels of animosity. As John Blackner, a contemporary resident and historian of the town, observed:

In these volatile circumstances, local feeling could be inflamed by anything that gave one side a perceived advantage over the other. A good example of the consequences of unconfirmed intelligence occurred in November 1777, when several Nottingham residents received letters containing accounts of George Washington’s “total defeat” by troops under Sir William Howe’s command:

The same source does not record the local reaction when extensive British losses at the Battle of Saratoga were subsequently confirmed.

The American Declaration of Independence was recognized by contemporaries as a defining moment in the pursuit of political freedom, on both sides of the Atlantic, and “We the People” used it as the centrepiece for a wider exploration of Anglo-American relations over the long term.Footnote ¹⁸ Nor did the connections between Nottinghamshire and the United States highlighted in the exhibition end with the achievement of independence in 1783. As the collections at Nottingham testify, local families engaged with the United States as travellers, explorers, politicians, missionaries, and diplomats in succeeding generations. For example, in 1893, Julian Pauncefote, a descendant of the Smith banking family of Nottingham, became Britain’s first ambassador to the United States and dean of the Diplomatic Corps. He died in office in 1902 and received a state funeral in Washington D.C. before his body was returned for burial in the churchyard at East Stoke in Nottinghamshire. Today an imposing memorial at Pauncefote’s grave commemorates his diplomatic career, with an angel offering the laurel of peace above the text “Blessed are the Peacemakers” (Figure 3).Footnote ¹⁹

Figure 3.

The imposing memorial to Julian Pauncefote in East Stoke, Nottinghamshire. Photo by the author.

Enid Hilton was six years old when Pauncefote died. Growing up in Eastwood, she knew D. H. Lawrence, but after emigrating to the United States following the Second World War, dedicated her life as a case worker to improving the aspirations, educational achievements, and living conditions of Indigenous communities in California. Her letters home, preserved at Nottingham, demonstrate an acute awareness of the impact of American history upon people who had been deliberately excluded from the Declaration of Independence. As she wrote in the bicentennial year: “America’s early history was not very lovely. Yes, the early settlers, the ‘covered wagon’ emigrants, had courage and initiative, drive and determination, but many of their actions proved that courage is often cruel.”Footnote ²⁰

In drawing together the accounts of contemporaries who lived through the events of 1776, like William Howe and Henry Clinton, with Nottingham residents who reacted to them in increasingly polarized ways, augmented by the perspectives of subsequent transatlantic travellers such as Julian Pauncefote and Enid Hilton, “We the People” provided an invaluable opportunity for engaging a contemporary local audience with events that might otherwise seem distant and irrelevant to them in terms of place and time. Although the “cult of the commemoration” remains a popular output for public history, the evidence suggests that it can be most effectively mobilized by locating transformative historical moments like “1776 and All That” within the familiar frame of reference provided by local geography.Footnote ²¹