British Heroism at Omoa, 1789

British Heroism at Omoa, artist unkown, in The Gentleman's and London Magazine: Or Monthly Chronologer, August, 1789, Google Books.

The latest in the images I have thus far collected of the British tar at Omoa, this print accompanied a brief description of the event published in the August 1789 edition of The Gentleman's and London Magazine: Or Monthly Chronologer.

Where Humphrey, who was the first to put the British tar at Omoa into an engraving, put the coarse words of a sailor into the mouth of the tar, the author of the Monthly Chronologer is closer to the original merciful version as related by Captain Dalrymple, though still far from accurate by that account:

One brave Castilian, resolved to conquer or die, threw himself before the brave British tar, and opposed him with all the vigour and skill he was master of, but was quickly disarmed. But the generous victor, disclaiming to take advantages, took up the sword, and presented it to the owner, "Now," cried he, "we are on equal terms; defend yourself. I scorn to attack an unarmed man" The Spaniard, struck at his generosity, received his sword, and bravely defended himself; but was soon forced to yield. "Generous Conqueror!" cried he, "I am in every way your inferior. You first overcome me by your valour, then by your generosity, and now again I am forced to submit. But where such heroism is found, resistance is vain, and opposition fruitless."

The author is so bold as to go even further with this syrupy exaggeration by claiming that the sailor was given instant preferment, something not mentioned in the original dispatches.

A sailor so supernaturally skilled at combat and mercy as to make a Spaniard decry himself as 'in every way your inferior' should look uncommonly gallant. Our unknown engraver has done his best to imbue the British tar with a manful and gallant look.

The tar wears a round hat with wide brim bound with tape. From his right shoulder to his left hip is draped a baldrick for his cutlass, which is clasped in his right hand. He wears a dark jacket that ends about the top of the thigh (though it is difficult to be certain). A single breasted jacket runs down to the plain petticoat trousers where it might be tucked in. The petticoat trousers themselves have a 'broad-fall' fly and end about the top of the calf. White stockings run to pointed toe shoes with large oval buckles. The resolution isn't high enough to be certain, but the straps of his shoes might be trained in the sailor's fashion.

A British Sailor Offering a Sword to an Unarmed Spanish Officer, 1783

A British Sailor offering a Sword to an Unarmed Spanish Officer, engraved by John Thronton, 1783, Library of Congress.

Another copy of this print can be found at the National Maritime Museum.

In the upper left, sailors bearing cutlasses mount the parapets. All of them wear short caps, probably Dutch/Monmouth knit caps, though it's difficult to be sure. Rushing up the ladder is a jack in a jacket that ends beneath the waist, it appears to have two vents and is lined in white. His trousers end above the ankle.

Standing atop a Spanish gun and proudly waving a British flag, a sailor wears a patterned bandanna around his head, a black neckcloth at his collar, a single breasted waistcoat with cloth buttons ending at the waist, and an unlined jacket. His trousers are vertically striped. 

The gallant sailor at the front, offering a sword to his enemy, wears a round hat with a very short brim. His neckcloth is striped. Our hero wears a double breasted, lined jacket with slash cuffs. The waistcoat is double breasted, ending at his white petticoat trousers with their broad fall fly. We get a peek at his breeches beneath, and see that they are fastened with laces! It's not often we see sailor's breeches, much less a good view of how they are closed. White stockings lead down to the pointed toe shoes with oval buckles.

The British Tar at Omoa, 1780

The British Tar at Omoa, William Humphrey, 1780, British Museum.

It has been 238 years since the Battle of San Fernando de Omoa. After Spain's entry into the American Revolutionary War, a British expedition was dispatched to what is today Honduras, and stormed the works with sailors and soldiers. 

The strategic effect was completely neutralized when the Spanish returned and retook the fort shortly thereafter. For this war, the numbers involved were small and the casualties light. The only real legacy of the battle is the surviving fortifications which stand as a tourist attraction to this day. 

For the British public, the seizing of Omoa was welcome news, but not particularly celebrated. That is, until the dispatches came back from the minor victory. Captain William Dalrymple, who commanded the small group of Irish Volunteers fighting alongside the sailors, included this in his letter describing the battle to Lord George Germain:

The Political Magazine and Parliamentary, Naval, Military,
and Literary Journal, Volume 1, August 1780, page 42

Here's a transcription of the above clipping:

Your lordship will pardon my mentioning an instance of an elevated mind in a British tar, which amazed the Spaniards, and gave them a very high idea of English valour: not content with one cutlass, he scrambled up the walls with two; and meeting a Spanish officer without arms, who had been roused out of his sleep, had the generosity not to take any advantage; but presenting him with one of his cutlasses, told him, "You are now on a footing with me."

Dalrymple's full letter, including the above anecdote, was included in the December 18, 1779 edition of the London Gazette. The following year, modified versions of the story started circulating in British papers.

Adams Weekly Courant, April 4, 1780, page 2

Both the Adams Weekly Courant (published in Chester) of April 4, 1780, and the Edinborough Advertiser of the same day included the same, modified version of Darlymple's original tale. It was not a sailor, but an Irish volunteer soldier named Concannen who 'flung' his dead companion's sword at the feet of a 'petrified' Spaniard. This story appears to be a (perhaps deliberate) misreading of Darlrymple's original dispatch. Mr. Concannen does appear in the dispatch as one of the first up the ladder to storm the fort, but he is a naval midshipman, not an Irish volunteer.

The Political Magazine and Parliamentary, Naval, Military,
and Literary Journal, Volume 1, August 1780, page 42

The elevation of the main character from a common and nameless sailor to a relative gentleman did not take hold. Conforming to the trend of depicting Britannia as a manful, violent, and strong British sailor, artists took up the image of the British tar at Omoa, offering his sword to a powerless Spanish officer.

Over the next two weeks, I will be examining different prints depicting this scene, stretching from 1780-1790.

Today I begin with William Humphrey's print. This is the earliest print depicting the British tar at Omoa that I am aware of. Humprey's sailor strides forward to offer a sword to an embarrassingly unprepared Spaniard. In the background a phalanx of bayonets drives away Spanish grenadiers, to the sound of a ship's broadside at the left.

The cowering Spaniard declares 'Ah Misericordia Segnor Inglese! me beg to be excused,' while wiping tears from his eyes.

Our hero may be gallant in his offering defense to the Spanish officer, but he insults their flag by stepping across it in his pointed toe shoes with oval buckles. His response to the Spaniard's plea is not the egalitarian 'You are now on a footing with me,' but the coarse 'Damn my Eyes, Don, take your Choice!'

The British tar's trousers are white, and end above the ankle, cinching close at the waist. His jacket is single breasted, ending at the waist, or perhaps tucked into the loose trousers. His jacket is fitted with simple, unadorned cuffs. The sailor's neckcloth is tied almost like a neckstock. Over short and loose hair he wears a round hat with a short brim.

The True British Tar, 1785

The True British Tar, Carington Bowles, 1785, British Museum.

Beyond the window lies a ship at anchor, but clearly our sailor is a bit more focused on the sacks of Spanish dollars he's procured. His table is scattered with coins and bedecked with bottles of Madeira. Lying against the box on which he sits is a neglected pipe, spilling its flames and smoking worryingly.

Our mariner wears a round hat lined with gold tape, and decorated with a blue bow (typical of works by Carington Bowles). Flowing from beneath is a wig with a long, tightly bound queue. Sailors of the eighteenth century wore their hair short, until just about this period when long and tightly bound queues begin to appear alongside should length and shorter hair styles. This is the earliest image I'm aware of that clearly shows a common sailor with a long, tightly bound pigtail or 'rattail.' His neckcloth is a sort of burgundy color, and fringed at the edges.

The jacket itself is blue, but it is impossible to tell if it is single or double breasted. Either way, it has brass buttons on both the front and the slash cuffs. Out of the jacket pocket, or perhaps spilling out through a rear vent, a burgundy handkerchief spotted in yellow hangs loose. His red waistcoat has white metal buttons, and a colorful blue ribbon and fob extends from beneath it.

Red striped trousers lead down to clocked stockings, pointed toe shoes, and yellow metal oval shaped buckles. The straps of his shoes are trained "sailor fashion."

Virtual Representation, 1775

Virtual Representation, artist unknown, 1775, British Museum.

Virtual Representation, artist unknown, 1775, Digital Commmonwealth.

Threatened by a Scot, a Jesuit, and others, an American wielding a cudgel is backed by a sailor who declares, 'I will be wounded with you.' Beside them, a blindfolded Britannia wanders dangerously close to 'The Pit Prepared for Others.'

Our tar wears a reversed cocked hat under which is a bob wig. His neckcloth is checkered or plaid, but the color has faded to where I can't be sure what color it was meant to be. There is little detail on his jacket and much of it is hidden from our view. His trousers are blue (though perhaps originally intended to be white, ending at about the middle of the calf, showing off white stockings, pointed toe shoes, and oval buckles.

Carte detaillée des possessions angloises dans l'Amerique Septentrionale, 1777

Carte detaillée des possessions angloises dans l'Amerique Septentrionale, engraved by Etienne Claude Voysard, 1777, Library of Congress.

Published the year before France joined America in a war against Britain, Voysard's map was intended to give a wide view of the seat of war. In the cartouche to the upper left are implements of artillery, including grape shot, solid shot, and chain shot. Leaning on the wheel of an old fashioned cannon is a sailor. In this context, before France is involved in the war, the sailor is almost certainly intended to be English or American, but his dress is rather like a French sailor.

Atop his head and over a bob wig is a battered round hat with a tapering conical crown. His jacket ends at about the natural waist and he wears a sash around his mid-section (an accessory distinctly French). His petticoat trousers run down to below the knee, where baggy stockings run to his pointed toe shoes with their oval buckles.

Bostonians Paying the Excise-Man, or Tarring and Feathering, 1774

The Bostonian's Paying the Excise-Man, or Tarring & Feathering, attributed to Philip Dawe, published by Sayer and Bennett, 1774, John Carter Brown Library.

The Bostonian's Paying the Excise-Man, or Tarring & Feathering, attributed to Philip Dawe, published by Sayer and Bennett, 1774, Gilder Lehrman Institute of American History.

The Bostonian's Paying the Excise-Man, or Tarring & Feathering, attributed to Philip Dawe, published by Sayer and Bennett, 1774, Library of Congress via Lapham's Quarterly.

Philip Dawe's image, as printed by Sayer and Bennett, is a popular one. Original copies exist in many museum and private collections. The image of an American mob attacking a government official with a noose around his neck, a club by his side, tarred and feathered, with tea poured into his mouth is a shocking one.

While this image has endured, it is only half of the story. Sayer and Bennett published it as 'Plate I.' An accompanying piece, The Bostonians in Distress, was meant to accompany it. Plate I depicts Americans behaving badly, Plate II shows the consequences of their actions.

In March of 1774, the Boston Port Act was passed in Parliament. Created as a punitive measure in response to the Boston Tea Party, Parliament decalred with the Port Act that Britain would 'discontinue, in such manner, and for such time as are therein mentioned, the landing and discharging, shipping of goods, wares, and merchandise, at the town, and within the harbour, of Boston.'

Dawe was answering critics of the Port Act by demonstrating that the mobs of America had this coming. For his central subject he chose to portray John Malcolm. A known informant, he was targeted in 1773 by a large mob of sailors for a tar and feathering.

Newport Mercury, November 29, 1774, page 2

Undeterred, Malcolm became a customs commissioner. After an altercation with a shoemaker, Malcolm was tarred and feathered again in January of 1774, mere weeks after the Boston Tea Party. Obstinate, he refused to give into the mob's wish that he renounce his position, even after they strapped a noose around his neck (as Dawe depicts).

Malcolm's posture, pleading while being restrained with a kettle of tea poured into his throat, is a direct answer to the unidentified English artist of The Able Doctor, or America Swallowing the Bitter Draught. Published in October, Dawe's Bostonians Paying the Excise-Man came fully six months after The Able Doctor.

The able Doctor; or America Swallowing the Bitter Draught, artist unknown,
1774, American Antiquarian Society.

Given that sailors gave Malcolm his first drubbing, and that (in the words of John Adams) 'outlandish jack tarrs' formed the center of America's 'motley rabble,' it was natural for Dawe to put a sailor in the foreground. The inclusion of a sailor, standing prominently on the right edge of the frame and wielding a weapon, also appears to be an answer to The Able Doctor. 'Sure,' he says 'our sailors shut down the port, but your sailors made us do it.'

Gilder Lehrman Copy

John Carter Brown Library Copy

Library of Congress Copy

The colorists for these prints are fairly consistent. All portray him as wearing a blue jacket (white metal buttons, except the John Carter Brown copy with cloth covered buttons), white petticoat trousers, and white stockings. His cap is a shade of brown, except for the John Carter Brown copy where it is a sort of purple, matching the breeches that peak from beneath his petticoat trousers. The sailor in the Library of Congress copy wears white breeches that match the shade of his petticoat trousers, which might be the same as the Gilder Lehrman copy. The neckcloth is different between all three versions, vacillating between striped and patterned, spotted or perhaps floral, orange and yellow or blue and red.

The Raree Show, 1762

The Raree Show! a Political Contrast to the Print of the Times, by Wm Hogarth, engraved by Edward Sumpter after Jefferys O'Neale, 1762, British Museum.

O'Neale offers an answer to William Hogarth's The Times in this densely cluttered political cartoon. Where Hogarth had a fire engine fighting to extinguish the global blaze of the war, O'Neale's engine is surrounded by slumbering firemen. A Tudor king on stilts fanned the flames with a bellows in Hogarth's piece, but O'Neale features a Jacobite on stilts shrilling on bagpipes to draw away attention from the inferno. As if there could be any doubt as to O'Neale's opinion of Hogarth, he took the time to add a dog urinating on his rival's print.

Hogarth featured a sailor carrying buckets to feed the fire engine. O'Neale's sailor is carrying books to burn.

He wears a reversed cocked hat over a bob wig. Around his neck is a striped neckcloth, which is partially tucked into his single breasted jacket with its very short slit cuffs. His trousers are wide and end about the middle or top of the calf. Pointed shoes with rectangular buckles complete his slop clothes.

Political Sparring, 1790

Political Sparring, Isaac Cruikshank, 1790, British Museum.

Cruikshank's political cartoon deals with a diplomatic spat in 1790 following the arrest of Captain Colnett by the Spanish. As described by the British Museum:

A satire on the affair of Nootka Sound...England had appealed to her ally the United Provinces, who (with Prussia) had admitted that Spain was the aggressor and had promised support. Spain had retaliated with an appeal to France under the Family Compact.

Cruikshank continues the political cartoon tradition of depicting Britain as a sailor: manful, strong, and violent. In this case, the sailor is referred to as "Mr. Bowling." After the success of Tobias Smollet's 1748 novel The Adventures of Roderick Random, the name Jack Tar was joined by Tom Bowling as a shorthand for British sailors.

Bowling clutches his forehead from where the Spaniard gave him a smack, but given the prostrate position of Spain, it looks as though Britain gave far more than he got.

D-n your paper Sconce who taught you to bow to a Gemmen you lubber you I'll tip you the Prince's bow at Elliots Ball

The curators at the British Museum state ''Elliot's Ball' is probably an allusion to the siege of Gibraltar,' from the American Revolutionary War, 'and possibly also to Hugh Elliot's mission to Paris to dissuade the French democrats from adhering to the Family Compact.'

Bowling wears a round hat with upturned narrow brim and tall cylindrical crown. Around his neck he wears a plain neckcloth, tucked into a single breasted waistcoat. His jacket ends just below the waist, with slit pockets. Bowling's mariners cuffs are buttoned closed and loose plain trousers run down to the ankle, where he wears pointed toe shoes with round buckles. In his left hand is a stick.

His shipmate looks on with approval, saying:

D-n my Eyes Jack, you've carried away his Top Gallant & made him mis stays & the Patter him for a Swab.

The sentence is a mishmash of nautical terms being used in a way that doesn't make a lot of sense, but is mean to mimic the common speech of sailors that, to the average Briton, was just as nonsensical as this.

Our sailors wears a round hat with a tall rounded crown and short upturned brim over what may be a bob wig. His plain neckcloth is wrapped around his neck like a scarf, draped over the collar of his single breasted jacket with its buttoned mariners cuffs. A single breasted waistcoat is short with a very narrow cutaway at the bottom, hanging over his petticoat trousers. As with Jack Bowling, this sailor carries a stick.

Drawing, c1745

Drawing, Paul Sandby, c1745, British Museum.

Thanks to Adam Hodges-LeClaire for pointing out this piece to me.

This drawing is one of a series done by Sandby in and around Edinburgh in the immediate wake of the Jacobite rising of 1745. Sandby's study shows a few people walking bout two, and a woman with what appears to be a broom. The British Museum's catalog states that she is a beggar woman, but I confess I'm not entirely sure why.

In the foreground, a man with a bob wig and cocked hat with short brim (possibly a sea captain) converses with a common sailor who walks beside.

Our sailor wears a hat or cap with a broad brim. At first I thought this must be a wide brimmed round hat, but Adam argues that it may be a Peter the Great cap, or a high crowned knit cap that was mean to appear like a felt hat. Obviously, a sketch is not enough to tell us whether this is a knit or felt. Atop his head and beneath the cap or hat is a bob wig.  a jacket with scalloped mariners' cuffs buttoned closed, and a pair of flap pockets at the waist. His petticoat trousers run down to just below the knee, so we can see his white stockings and pointed toe shoes.

Jemmy's Farewell and Jemmy's Return, 1781-1785

Jemmy's Farewell, John Hodges Benwell, 1781-1785, British Museum.

Jemmy's Return, John Hodges Benwell, 1781-85, British Museum.

These illustrations were meant to accompany the ballad 'Auld Robin Gray,' which was originally published in 1772. The artist, John Hodges Benwell, died in 1785 at the age of 21. Benwell was first recognized as an unusually gifted artist at 16, so that restricts the dates during which these drawings could have been made to 1781-1785.

Scots are rarely addressed on this blog. This is largely because a glance at a common sailor will tell you little or nothing about their regional identity. Sailor's slop clothes served to merge them into a transatlantic (and, indeed, worldwide) clique. Clothing blurred the boundaries within the British Empire, and made all of its wearers Jack Tar.

This is also true of commanders. Even when it is Scottishness itself that an artist objects to, a sea captain like James Lowry will still look more like a sea captain than a highlander.

The Scotch Triumvirate, artist unknown, 1752, British Museum

Figures of less renown (or notoriety) are also portrayed as indistinguishable from their fellow seafarers.

Etched from the Life on Board a Scotch Ship: Cook, Captain, and Mait, 
artist unknown (John Kay?), c.1750, National Maritime Museum.

I can think of only one other case in which a Scotsman was portrayed wearing regional dress in a primary source image. John Paul Jones, being an American rebel and Scotsman to boot, is portrayed wearing a tam.

Paul Jones shooting a Sailor who had attempted to strike his Colours in an
Engagement, Carington Bowles from John Collet, 1779, British Museum.

Mara Riley, of The Appin Regiment reenactment organization, pointed me to this runaway advertisement found by Dan Rosenburg. Three runaway highland sailors are mentioned as running away 'from on Board the Ship Donald...in their own Country Garb.'

Virginia Gazette (Purdie & Dixon), April 15, 1773, page 3
Colonial Williamsburg

Over at the blog Fishy Fashion and Maritime Modes, Adam Hodges-LeClaire mentions the occasional appearance of Scotch bonnets, a finding echoed by Matthew Brenckle. Adam dug up this piece from the early nineteenth century, in which a sailor's dress is a more subtle mix of highland style and sailor's slops.

Detail from Makeing a Compass at Sea or the Use of a Scotch Louse,
Thomas Tegg, date unknown, National Maritime Museum

Benwell is not the first to portray Jemmy in the Sailor's Farewell and Sailor's Return from Auld Robin Gray. The printer Robert Sayer twice portrayed Jemmy, but in neither did he include even a hint to Jemmy's Scottish heritage.

In the Farewell, Jemmy is portrayed wearing a floppy cocked hat with a blue bow. His jacket is a double breasted pale blue with white metal buttons. A black neckcloth is bound tightly, draping over his white shirt and an oddly placed brown leather belt is buckled around his waist. Jemmy sports sideburns and a queue bound in a black bow.

At first, I thought Jemmy was wearing a small kilt (called a fèileadh beag), which hangs down to just above the knee. Bill Johnson, more knowledgeable than I in highland dress, offered this observation:

A closer examination of the backside of the garment suggests Jemmy is in fact wearing slop or petticoat trousers, possibly made of tartan.  There does not appear to be any pleats (hand-thrown or stitched in).  Early small kilts were usually made from 3-4 yards of single-width fabric, with the pleats roughly hand-thrown as it was put on; with a light stitching to hold them in place (usually in a box pleat); or with a drawstring to bring them together.  It is not a garment easily donned in the crowded confines of a ship.

This different cut and lack of fabric suggests that these are plaid petticoat trousers. Bill continues:

Two early 18th century portraits of the Laird of Grant's piper (1714) and Champion (1715) show a colored tape being worn around the border of their respective kilts.  A tapestry on the Isle of Mull show the same type of trim, again being worn by the chief's retainers.  My question on the Benwell paintings is whether this was meant to be trimming, or an easy way for the artist to finish off the hem.

Beneath this puzzling garment is revealed brown breeches held by a knee buckle over white stockings, pointed toe shoes, and large rectangular white metal buckles.

The presence of breeches is exceptional. In the eighteenth century, kilts were never worn over breeches. What were worn over breeches, as we've seen time and time again in this blog, were petticoat trousers. This is where we run into a problem with these drawings. As follower Phil Hosea points out: petticoat trousers are intended to be cheap, easily replaced, and protect the breeches beneath. None of these apply to kilts.

My best guess is that this is a nod to the combination of highland dress and slop clothes. The breeches are worn underneath the kilt-like-petticoat-trousers, and the two garments share a passing similarity in the way they are worn.

Was Benwell basing Jemmy on Scottish sailors he had actually seen or met? Or was this a fanciful imagination of the two worlds colliding? While I'm inclined toward the latter, it's impossible to say for certain without further research on Benwell himself.

On his return, Jemmy wears the same clothes as when he bid adieu to Robin. His jacket is town and tattered, and he now has the sailor's trusty stick, but otherwise his dress is the same. We do get a better look at his ragged queue.

In this image, he still wears breeches beneath his kilt, proving that their inclusion was no fluke on the part of Benwell.

European Race for a Distance, 1740

European Race for a Distance, Charles Mosley, 1740, British Museum.

As I pointed out in my last post, 1740 was a busy time in Europe. War was spreading across the continent and across the world. Charles Mosley chose to depict the nations and leaders of Europe as jockeys vying for the prize of a bit more wealth and power.

A British sailor lights the cannon he sits astride with a linstock, holding his tankard in a free hand. He wears a work cap or round hat with short brim, a smock with neckcloth tucked into the front, and trousers that end about mid-calf. Over his head flutters a banner reading Pro patria mori, meaning "it is sweet to die for one's country." This may be a commentary on the impending death of the foolish sailor who lights the cannon between his legs, a metaphor for pointless death in the growing conflict.

A New Sea Quadrant, 1748

A New Sea Quadrant, George Adams, 1748, Houghton Library, Harvard University via Capitu Tumblr.

George Adams entered the navigational instrument business at an early age, apprenticing under James Parker before opening his own shop in 1738. Ten years later he had developed a new instrument for taking latitudinal readings. Intended to be more versatile than the backstaff and less expensive than the octant, Adams' quadrant did not eclipse the recently invented octant, nor did it survive the growth of the soon to be invented sextant. There is only one surviving example of his invention, which now resides in the collection of the Mariners' Museum and Park in Newport News, Virginia.

Courtesy of The Mariners’ Museum and Park, Newport News, VA

In advertising his creation, Adams depicts a common sailor lifting the device to his eye and sighting the horizon. The choice of a common sailor may have been to emphasize ease of use.

He wears a simple cocked hat with a button loop on the left side and no binding. Under his short hair is a plaid neckcloth stuffed into the uppermost buttonhole of his jacket.

The cuffs of his single breasted jacket are open, with only one of the three buttons in place. At his waist is a flap pocket turned vertically. This is the first time I've seen such an arrangement on a sailor's jacket. His waistcoat is plain and single breasted.

Ending just above the bottom of his calf, our sailor's trousers are held at the waist with a simple two button closure. He wears white stockings and pointed toe shoes with roughly rectangular buckles.