Untitled Print, 1762

Untitled print, Paul Sandby, 1762, British Museum.

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

The curators of the British Museum, in the catalog entry for this piece, believe this to be Sandby's reply to William Hogarth's cartoon The Times. The public debate around the peace negotiations to end the Seven Years War got hot in the press, and Hogarth's Times was copied and answered several times by other artists. Sandby's is possibly the most artistically sophisticated of these responses.

There's a lot going on here, and for more on the political message and the various figures, I do strongly recommend reading the curators' catalog entry.

As always, I'm going to focus on the tars in this cartoon. In the frame on the left and out of frame on the right sailors bookend the piece.

Clutching a broken anchor and covered in cobwebs, a sailor and a grenadier stand atop the scroll outside the left frame of the cartoon. They are juxtaposed against a Scotsman beating a legless man with his own wooden leg on the right scroll. The broken anchor is obvious enough, but the cobwebs suggest disuse, which is hard to argue for the Royal Navy in the final year of the Seven Years War. Fighting a war on multiple continents meant that even with the French Navy shattered by the numerous victories of 1759 the British fleet was stretched across the globe and constantly sailing from one ocean to the next. Perhaps Sandby intended this to be a warning of things to come?

This sailor wears a reversed cocked hat with a narrow brim over his bob wig. His handkerchief is worn over the jacket, but the style is indiscernible. The jacket itself is tucked into his wide legged trousers, and may be intended as a frock, as I can't make out any opening on the front. In any case, the jacket ends in slash cuffs. To emphasize his poverty, the sailor has a patch over his left knee. The trousers end about the bottom of the calf.

According to the curators: 'At the extreme right, Edward, Duke of York, Admiral of the Blue, wearing sailor's trousers, and followed by another naval officer, climbs over a blank inn-sign of the Patriot Arms to come to the assistance of his uncle Cumberland.'

His uniform is decidedly that of an officer, and the trousers may be intended to make his affiliation with the sea apparent. I disagree with the curators assessment of the man standing behind him. The handkerchief over his jacket and the stick in his hand are the marks of common seamen, not officers. Neither of these objects are present on the Duke of York himself. The sailor also wears a bob wig.

A Revengeful Stick

Detail from British Resentment or the French fairly Coopt at Louisbourg,
Louis Pierre Boitard, 1755, John Carter Brown Library of Early American Images.

There are a lot of things I didn't expect when I started this website back in 2014. When studying depictions of sailors' slop clothes, I was surprised by the number of open cuffs, bob wigs, cocked hats worn reversed, and the variety of handkerchief styles. Among the most prolific accouterments of the sailor in artwork of my era is the stick.

A question arose from seeing so many representations of sailors and sticks: why? What purpose does the sailor's stick serve?

Now that I have combed through court records, memoirs, and especially period newspapers, it is my belief that the primary purpose of the sailor's stick was as a weapon.

That is not to say the sailor only ever used his stick as a weapon. Mariners are often depicted dancing with sticks.

Detail from Sea Captains Carousing in Surinam, John Greenwood, c. 1752-1758, Saint Louis Art Museum.

Detail from The Sailor's Fleet Wedding Entertainment,
M. Cooper, 1747, Yale University Lewis Walpole Library.

Detail from The Wapping Landlady, engraved from the Original Painting in Vaux Hall Gardens,
published by Carrington Bowles, 1743, British Museum.

Deatil from Greenwich Hill or Holyday Gambols,
William Humphrey, 1770's, British Museum.

Just as often, sailors are depicted bearing sticks in courtship. Including the very not safe for work print that accompanied a 1770 edition of the erotic novel Fanny Hill. Tame examples of sticks present in courtship are depicted below.

Detail from Jack on a Cruise, M. Darly, 1781, British Museum.

Detail from The Modern Harlot's Progress, or Adventures of Harriet Heedless,
Carington Bowles, 15 May 1780, British Museum.

Jack got safe into Port with his Prize, Robert Sayer, 1780, British Museum.

However, I have not yet found any written evidence of sticks being used for any purpose other than violence. This may simply be because sticks were common enough to pass without mention unless there was an exceptional circumstance that required they be mentioned, though the startling lack of any other source is stark. Further, sailors are very rarely depicted carrying sticks at sea or aboard ship, and this absence may be explained by that tool being primarily a weapon, and therefore discouraged or unnecessary afloat.

A hint of the purpose of sticks is in the memoirs of Olaudah Equiano. He faced the usual dangers that accompanied a life at sea: drowning, fire, death in battle, corporal punishment, and the like. As a black man sailing Caribbean and North American waters, Equiano was also subject to racial dangers like attempted kidnapping:

One day, while I was a little way out of the town of Savannah [Georgia], I was beset by two white men, who meant to play their usual tricks with me in the way of kidnapping. As soon as these men accosted me, one of them said to the other, 'This is the very fellow we are looking for that you lost:' and the other swore immediately that I was the identical person. On this they made up to me, and were about to handle me; but I told them to be still and keep off; for I had seen those kind of tricks played upon other free blacks, and they must not think to serve me so. At this they paused a little, and one said to the other—it will not do; and the other answered that I talked too good English. I replied, I believed I did; and I had also with me a revengeful stick equal to the occasion; and my mind was likewise good. Happily however it was not used; and, after we had talked together a little in this manner, the rogues left me.

Olaudah Equiano, The Interesting Narrative of Olaudah Equiano, London: T. Wikins,
1789, pages 72-73, University of Michigan via HathiTrust Digital Library.

Equiano's use of the stick was for self defense, and he was far from the only one. When an unnamed sailor from the Hastings was accosted by a highwayman, the blustering tar declared 'that he expected some Broadsides before he surrendered' and later struck the highwayman 'on the Head with his Stick, which so stunned the Fellow, that he fell from his Horse.'

The Derby Mercury, January 20, 1748, Page 4.

The use of the stick for personal defense is alluded to in a print depicting the murder of a midshipman from the Wager during the sailors' difficult time ashore after their vessel wrecked. As Captain Cheap shoots Midshipman Henry Cozens, a small group of sailors charges toward the sound of the pistol, sticks in hand.

Detail from A Representation of Capt Cheap, Commander of the ship Wager, Shooting Mr. Cozens his Midshipman, artist unknown, published 1745 in A voyage to the South-seas, and to many other parts of the world, from 1740 to 1744, by an officer of the fleet.

In another case, two sailors jumped a third on the road and attempted to rob him. Both attackers resorted to striking their victim 'with a bludgeon' and 'a stick.' Despite the onslaught, 'by his Knife and Walking Stick, he defended himself so bravely, that they retreated with great precipitation, without their booty.'

The Derby Mercury, November 17, 1749, page 3.

In the above anecdote we see sailors using the stick both for offensive and defensive purposes, but the sources available lean heavily toward the stick as an offensive weapon. In 1758, a sailor used his stick to beat his wife for infidelity, a shocking crime for which he was incarcerated.

Jackson's Oxford Journal, August 12, 1758, page 1.

The use of sticks in domestic violence is echoed in a possibly apocryphal tale from 1790, a sailor saves his unfaithful wife by beating her lover with 'a large oak stick.'

The Public Advertiser, July 30, 1790, Page 3.

This scene is repeated in the comic opera Thomas and Sally, and so depicted in this print that accompanied the score of that play.

Plate from 'Thomas and Sally or, the Sailor's Return. A musical entertainment in two acts and in verse,'
author Isaac Bickerstaffe, artist unknown, 1770, Internet Archive.

On a larger scale, seamen would use their sticks in riots and brawls. In a trial at the Old Bailey in 1761, a number of sailors produced sticks in a tavern.

Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 8.0, 05 June 2018),
October 1761, trial of Stephen Dane (t17611021-30).

In October of 1763, a riot broke out in Shoreditch, and the sailors in the mob struck at the soldiers called to suppress them 'with their sticks.'

"The Late Riot in Shoredtich," The Beauties of All Magazines Selected for the Year 1763,
Volume 2, London: T. Waller, 1763, page 509, via Google Books.

Sailors are also depicted as wielding sticks in the riot on the Strand in 1749.

Detail from The Mob attempting to pull down Peter Woods house, Unknown Artist, 1749, British Museum.

The sailor in Philip Dawe's Bostonians Paying the Excise-Man is also armed with a stick, and is one of the most prominent figures in the American mob depicted there.

Detail from 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 rioting mess of shipmates who rescue the woman of ill repute from the law in John Collet's A Rescue, or Tars Triumphant also bear sticks.

A Rescue, or the Tars Triumphant, John Collet, 1767, Open Art Collection.

At times the violence that sailors wrought with their sticks was celebrated. Increasingly during the Seven Years War and especially during the American Revolutionary War, sailors were used as personifications of Britain. And so their sticks came to have political meaning as well. When sailors forced their way onto the field in their enthusiasm to engage the French during the Battle on the Plains of Abraham, the story was repeated in several newspapers. These Georgian journalists were particularly impressed that the sailors were so eager despite 'some having cutlasses in their hands, others sticks, and some nothing at all.'

"Behaviour of the brave Tars at Quebec." The Edinburgh Magazine, Vol. VI,
March 1762, page 135, via Google Books.

In 1781, a Mr. Churchill penned a metaphorical ballad in which the sailor's 'trusty oak stick' was used to beat down the French and those that would shelter them.

"Song 421. Written by Mr. Churchill." The Vocal Magazine; or, Compleat British Songster, London: Harrison and Co., 1781,  page 112, New York Public Library via HathiTrust Digital Library.

The theme of the sailor striking at personifications of Britain's enemies is quite present in cartoons of the latter half of the eighteenth century. A pair of sailors bearing sticks have struck a hard blow against a stereotypical Spaniard in Cruikshank's 1790 Political Sparring.

Detail from Political Sparring, Isaac Cruikshank, 1790, British Museum.

William Wells drew a sailor strangling a personification of the Dutch in 1783.

Detail from Proclamation of Peace, William Wells, 1783, British Museum.

And in a poorly engraved cartoon by Thomas Colley, a British sailor watches over his French prisoners while brandishing his stick.

Detail from The Ville de Paris, sailing for Jamaica, or Rodney triumphant,
Thomas Colley, 1782, British Museum.

For attack and defense, the sailor carried a stick with him ashore. As a symbol of violence borne by the personification of Britain, it became an extension of Britain's might. In reality, it was used for the sort of nasty brawling that sailors were (rightly or wrongly) notorious for.

British Resentment or the French fairly Coopt at Louisbourg, 1755

British Resentment or the French fairly Coopt at Louisbourg, Louis Pierre Boitard, 1755, Colonial Williamsburg.

British Resentment or the French fairly Coopt at Louisbourg, Louis Pierre Boitard, 1755, John Carter Brown Library of Early American Images.

Copies of this cartoon can be found at Williamsburg, the Walpole Library, the John Carter Brown Early American Images collection, the Library of Congress, the William L. Clements Library at the University of Michigan, and other major institutions.

Louisbourg had long been a target of the British in their wars against French Canada. This political cartoon by Boitard was counting chickens before they hatched. It would be another three years of war between the American and French colonies of North America.

There are a good number of sailors in this print, so we'll get right into it!

Starting from the left, there is a sailor at the base of the pyramid brandishing his curved cutlass and, in the words of Boitard, "pointing to the eclipse, & leering at a French Politician trapt by his own Schemes." This sailor wears a reversed cocked hat with narrow brim, held up by a skinny loop. His blue single breasted jacket has mariners cuffs with matching buttons. The waistcoat beneath is white with narrow vertical red stripes over a white shirt. A pair of white petticoat trousers and white stockings leading to pointed toe shoes with rectangular buckles complete his appearance. Peeking from beneath the petticoat trousers on his right leg is the tie that binds the breeches beneath.

In the foreground on the far right, conversing with a soldier, another tar sits by a cannon where he "Squeezes the Gallic Cock by the throat, & makes him disgorge the French usurpations in America." He also wears a blue jacket, with its mariners' cuff open so we can see the white shirt beneath. Trousers or petticoat trousers run down to the top of his calf when he site. He wears a yellow neckcloth which is spotted, and may have red spots in the Williamsburg version, but the resolution is too low to be certain. It appears that this sailor, too, wears his cocked hat reversed.

Behind the cannon "A Gang of brave Saylors [are] exulting at the Starving French coopt up." All of them wear petticoat trousers and carry or wear cocked hats, many of them bare bob wigs as they raise their hats in rejoicing. Most of them brandish long sticks. The mariner up front wears a striped waistcoat just like that of the sailor by the pyramid. Among them, the least uniform is only differentiated from his mates by the brown jacket he wears. Interestingly, most have flap pockets on their waistcoats and jackets, and at least one on his jacket.

The Convention, 1790

The Convention, Isaac Cruikshank, published by S.W. Forbes, 1790, British Museum.

This political cartoon references the Nootka Sound Convention of 1790. It was one of three agreements between Spain and Britain to prevent disagreements and incidents in the Pacific Northwest from escalating to war.

Cruikshank does not appear to happy with this first convention. The Don prances away at a dancing step while taunting Jack Tar (who stands in place of Britannia) with the French farewell: 'Adieu.' Jack, meanwhile, can do little more but stare angrily at his opponent and mutter 'You be D--n'd.'

The sailor wear a round hat with a rounded crown and loose brim. His jacket has large buttons, and appears to be single breasted, though I couldn't swear to it. One hand is thrust in the waist pocket of his single breasted waistcoat, which hangs over the petticoat trousers that end just below the knee. In his left hand he holds a stick.

The Frenchman in Distress, 1786

The Frenchman in Distress, Robert Dighton, printed by Bowles & Carver, 1786, British Museum.

Beating well dressed and effeminate Frenchmen is a running theme in British cartoons of the late eighteenth century. In this case, a coachman gets his licks in, raising a fist while the Frenchman empties his pockets, spilling his fripperies onto the sidewalk. Numerous onlookers watch the scene, including a sailor and what might be his family.

The large woman stands by the oysters she has for sale, an oyster knife hanging from her waist. to the right stands a well dressed tar.

His round hat is black with an upturned brim, a "buck hat." His shirt is bared between the open lapels of a red waistcoat, over which a short black neckcloth hangs down, tied beneath his collar. A blue jacket with white buttons and a closed mariners cuff hands down to the top of his thighs. White trousers striped with narrow red vertical stripes ends above the ankle. Rectangular buckles keep his shoes fit tight, and he holds a stick in his right hand.

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.

Britain's Rights Maintained, 1755

Britain's Rights Maintained, or French Ambition Dismantled, Louis Philippe Boitard. 1755, Boston Rare Maps.

If you haven't visited Boston Rare Maps, you really should. There is an amazing collection of original printed images and maps that you can purchase. Definitely worth checking out.

Britain's Rights Maintained, a political cartoon by Boitard, was printed in the early days of the French and Indian War/Seven Years War. Another copy is held at the Library of Congress. His is an overly optimistic piece boasting about British victory well before it was assured. Indeed, 1755 left little for the British to celebrate.

Neptune himself points to a map of British North America, his finger resting on the border between New York and Quebec. Posturing with his trident as if to spear the French cock at his feet, Neptune declares "This for the Honour of the British Flag, Conducted by the Nobly-Spirited Anson." At this time, George Anson, hero of the previous war, was First Lord of the Admiralty.

Behind the British lion on the far left, a group of sailors circle around a pillar to the triumphs of George II. They are uniformly dressed in petticoat trousers, and beneath two of them are visible long ribbons. These ribbons are either to fasten the breeches at their knees, or serve as garters for their stockings. The men wave round hats over their heads, and a couple appear to be wearing bob wigs. Their jackets end about the middle of the thigh, and a few carry sticks.

On the far right, a single sailor, named Jack Tar, rests his hand on the shoulder of Monsieur Le Politiciene. The monsieur is despondent over the loss of America (again, a far cry from certain). Jack does not comfort the poor fellow, but mocks him:

Hark ye Mounseer! was that your Map of North America? what a vast tract of Land you had! pity the Right Owner shou'd take it from you.

Jack wears a reversed cocked hat over a bob wig, and a plain cloth at his neck. His jacket is loose fitting and ends below the top of the thigh, draping over his petticoat trousers. As with the other sailors, he wears long ribbons at his knee. A checked shirt is visible beneath a waistcoat with narrow vertical stripes. His shoes are pointed toe, and the tongue hangs out from his buckle, perhaps in "sailor's fashion."

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.