Shore Party Armaments: The Cutlass

'Figure of Eight' Naval Cutlass, c.1740-1750, Colonial Williamsburg.

I recently received an inquiry regarding the carrying of cutlasses. Follower Brian McNamara, a maritime archaeologist and historian, noticed that a lot of reenactors portraying naval seamen were wearing blades:

As I pour through images I find very little evidence of a sailor wearing baldric or scabbard, even if they do happen to have a cutlass in hand. In the instances where they do, it is often in a political piece where the author is clearly taking artistic licence. In what situation if any would a before-the-mast common sailor ever be granted such leeway to carry arms? 

In this post, I will approach two main questions: how were cutlasses carried, and by whom?

MacNamara is right that most images from the period show sailors with naked cutlasses. This is particularly notable in the numerous portrayals of the British Tar at Omoa. In each of these a common sailor is portrayed storming the fortifications of Omoa bearing at least one cutlass, and the image often includes background characters also armed with naked blades, but not a single scabbard or baldric among them.

Primary source artwork is of limited use here. There are many images of sailors with sword or cutlass, but most of these are cartoons and not illustrated by mariners familiar with the customs of the sea. Of the cartoons and other images collected there, it's a pretty even split between waistbelt and baldric, or no method of carrying cutlasses at all. Not exactly illuminating.

Even those pieces that are illustrated by mariners are not necessarily reliable or helpful, as is the case with this detail from East India Company mariner William Gibson. The figure on the right holds a sword, but has no visible belt or baldric for sheathing it.

Courtesy of The Mariners’ Museum and Park, Newport News, VA
Detail from Earl of Cornwallis Bound to Bengal, William Gibson, 1783

This would support the notion that sailors aboard were issued cutlasses only when necessary, and so did not need scabbards, baldrics, or waistbelts to haul them around. Certainly cutlasses and other weapons were stored aboard ship for easy access in an emergency, and not intended to be carried for long periods of time. When a press gang boarded the Boston merchantman Hawke in 1741, a young Ashley Bowen had to distract the Royal Navy midshipman who 'examined our small arms and missing some of our cutlass and pistols out of their places...began to examine our bulkheads' in search of the shipmates that presumably held those arms to resist.'[1] John Nicol, serving during the Revolutionary War, wrote: 'I was one of the boarders. We were all armed, when required, with a pike to defend our own vessel should the enemy attempt to board; a tomahawk, cutlass and brace of pistols to use in boarding them. I never had occasion to try their use on board the Proteus, as the privateers used to strike after a broadside or two.'[2] John Iver, 'mate of an East India Ship,' in a letter written to his wife and published in Jackson's Oxford Journal, resorted to an extreme measure to carry his cutlass when the ship caught fire and Lascar sailors tried to escape on the only boat available. Ordered by the captain to save the 'save him and the rest of the Europeans,' Iver 'took a cutlass in my mouth, and directly jumped overboard.'[3]

Aboard ship, sailors had little need of a scabbard. Ashore was a different story.

Sometimes this was for ceremonial occasions. James Wyatt, a privateer writing in his The Life and Surprizing Adventures of James Wyatt in 1753 mentions the carrying of swords for a midshipman's funeral ashore: 'Every one had a Pair of Pistols stuck in his Belt, a Hanger by his Side, and there were Swords cross'd on the Coffin Lid.'[4] Again, he says nothing about precisely how the blades were slung.

Gabriel Bray is perhaps the only artist to give us a reliable image of a sailor carrying a cutlass ashore. Bray, unlike most artists I examine on this website, was a naval officer and focused on daily life at sea during his 1774 voyage aboard the frigate Pallas to Africa. In one piece entitled Military Figure Leaning on a Pile of Bales (possibly created shortly before the Pallas voyage) a common seaman is in the background hauling casks.

​He wears all the paraphernalia of a boarding party: pistols tucked into a belt, at least one vambrace to protect the forearm in close combat, boarding helmet reinforced with (presumably) iron bands, and a cutlass in a scabbard.[5] There is no shoulder slung baldric so it must hang from his waistbelt. Given Bray's background, and the other pieces he has painted, I think we can reasonably conclude this is a slice of life depiction, rather than a metaphorical piece using visual shorthand as in cartoons of the day. The curators of the National Maritime Museum state 'it has been suggested he [the figure in this illustration] may be connected with anti-smuggling operations.'

My guess (and I stress it is a guess) is that the sailor was part of a shore party along with the officer who stands as the central figure of the piece, and that the party was dressed and accoutered for close combat in case something went wrong. This would make sense in an anti-smuggling mission.

Certainly merchantmen kept bladed weapons as well. As quoted above, Ashley Bowen served on a merchantman in which cutlasses were stored ready for the crew. Merchant captains also personally owned hand weapons for their personal protection and likely that of their crew. In examining the probate inventories of landowners in colonial London Town, Maryland, Mechelle Kerns revealed just such evidence. Captain Anthony Beck’s estate inventory lists both a pair of pistols and a cutlass among his possessions, just as Captain Richard Jones’ inventory mentions three guns, and Strachan’s lists a 'parcel of old sward blades.'[6]

So how common were cutlasses on non-naval vessels compared to men-ofwar?

Archaeology can be of some help here. Looking through archaeological reports for non-naval vessels the General Carleton (merchant), Defence (American privateer), and Philadelphia (American gunboat) made no mention of recovered swords, cutlasses, or associated leather gear.[7] Matthew Keagle, curator at Fort Ticonderoga, weighed in on the collection drawn from the sloop Boscawen. 'Somewhat to my surprise I don't believe there were any cutlass parts or belting recovered from the wreck. To a certain extent this doesn't surprise me, as it was built and manned largely by army personnel.' The Boscawen was even commanded by an infantry officer from the 77th Foot.[8] Interestingly, these vessels all have surviving artifacts of and related to flintlock small arms.

Naval vessels don't always turn up cutlasses themselves, but the associated gear does reliably appear. Perhaps the lack of swords and cutlasses had more to do with the crew taking those weapons with them than their lack aboard prior to sinking.The 1791 wreck of the Pandora turned up some leather scabbard fragments.[9] The 1798 wreck of the DeBraak, though after my period of study, provides the most complete surviving set of cutlass leather gear. Follower Andrew Lyter of the Zwaanendael Museum in Lewes, Delaware (which displays some of the artifacts recovered from the DeBraak) was kind enough to provide some photographs of the remarkably intact gear.

Delaware Division of Historical and Cultural Affairs, Department of the State, photographed by Andrew Lyter, Zwaanendael Museum, Lewes, Delaware.

Maritime material culture historian Matthew Brenckle pointed out that some of the buckles recovered from the 1770 wreck of the naval sloop Swift are remarkably similar to that on the belt of the DeBraak.[10]

Almost certainly, shore parties were equipped for what their commanders thought would be most useful and appropriate for the occasion. The thirty three officers and men of the Royal Navy dispatched on the Braddock Expedition in 1755 were armed with bright barreled sea service muskets, cartouche boxes, and bayonets, and no cutlasses (much less belts, baldrics, or scabbards).[11] Braddock's Expedition was a long term campaign and the officers in charge anticipated traditional restricted warfare of the eighteenth century style, with the occasional stand up fight brought on through ambush. Bray's men apparently anticipated close in fighting ashore.

"Figure of Eight" Naval Cutlass, c.1740-1750, Colonial Williamsburg.

All of this suggests that cutlasses were more common on naval vessels than any other sort.

Whether naval seamen carried cutlasses ashore depended very much on the particular situation. The sailors of the Braddock Expedition were on a very different mission than the sailor portrayed by Bray. How precisely they carried these implements requires more research than I've given you here. If you know of artwork I've missed, existing baldrics or waist-belts from the period, or primary source accounts that shed more light on this topic, feel free to share them and shed light on this topic.

---

[1] Bowen, Ashley, The Autobiography of Ashley Bowen (1728-1813), edited by Daniel Vickers, Ontario: Broadview Editions, 2006, page 38.
[2] Nicol, John, The Life and Adventures of John Nicol, Mariner, edited by Tim Flannery, New York: Atlantic Monthly Press, 1997, page 37.
[3] Jackson's Oxford Journal, January 6, 1759, pages 1-2.

[4] Wyatt, James, The Life and Surprizing Adventures of James Wyatt, London: W. Reave, 1753, page 12.
[5] Boarding helmets are rarely mentioned, and even more rarely researched. William Gilkerson did briefly examine them in his Boarder's Away: With Steel - Edged Weapons & Pole Arms, Lincoln, Rhode Island: Andrew Mowbray Publishing, 1991, pages 104-106.

[6] Kerns, Mechelle, London Town: The Life of a Colonial Town, unpublished master’s thesis, UMBC: 1999., page 244, 311, 347.
[7] Litwin, Jerzy, et. al., The General Carleton Shipwreck, 1785, Gdansk: Polish Maritime Museum, 2008; Shelley Owen Smith, The Defence: Life at Sea as Reflected in an Archaeological Assemblage from an Eighteenth Century Privateer, doctorate dissertation, University of Pennsylvania, 1986; Switzer, David C., "The Excavation of the Privateer Defence," Northeast Historical Archaeology, Volume 12, 1983, pages 43-50, via Binghampton University, The Open Repository,  <https://orb.binghamton.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1297&context=neha>; Bingeman, John H., The First Invincible (1747-1758): Her Excavations (1980-1991), Oxford: Oxbow Books, 2010.
[8] ; Campbell, Janet and Peter Gesner, 'Illustrated Catalog of Artefacts from the HMS Pandora Wrecksite Excavations 1977-1995,' Memoirs of the Queensland Museum, Volume 2, Issue 1, Brisbane: Queensland Museum, 2000, page 88, accessed July 31, 2018, <https://search.informit.com.au/documentSummary;dn=888899821801914;res=IELHSS>.
[9] Personal e-mail communication with the author.
[10] Dolores Elkin, et al., “Archaeological research on HMS Swift: a British Sloop-of-War lost off Patagonia, Southern Argentina, in 1770,” The International Journal of Nautical Archaeology, Volume 36, Issue 1, March 2007.
[11] Keppel to Barrington, March 17, 1755, 'IV. The Norwich: Letters,' in The Barrington Papers, Vol. 77, ed. D Bonner-Smith, London: Navy Record Society, 1937, 115-165. British History Online, accessed July 31, 2018, <http://www.british-history.ac.uk/navy-record-soc/vol77/pt1/pp115-165>.

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.

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.

Gallant Behaviour of an English Sailor, c.1785

Gallant behaviour of an English Sailor in offering a sword to an unarmed Spaniard to defend himself, at the taking of Fort Omoa, in the Bay of Honduras, October 20th 1779, engraved by John Record after Metz, c.1785, Library of Congress.

Here is another edition of the British tar at Omoa. This print was engraved for Raymond's History of England, a work that (according to the Brighton Royal Pavilion and Museums) was first published in 1754, but continued into 1787. The Library of Congress dates this c. 1785, as the particular edition that this was published in included events through the Spring of 1784. Other copies exist in the collection of the National Maritime Museum and British Museum.

Though intended as a historical piece, rather than as a caricature or political cartoon, this engraving portrays the Spaniard in archaic clothing more reminiscent of the seventeenth century than the late eighteenth. Portrayals of Spaniards as backward or out of sync with the times were incredibly common among English cartoonists. It is interesting to note that a straight historical narrative of the time also depicted the stereotypical Spaniard in his anachronistic garb.

The sailor wears no hat, and wears his hair short and loose. Without a neckcloth, his white shirt hangs open. The blue jacket is single breasted without pockets or collar, ending right below the natural waist. His plain trousers end just above the ankle, revealing rounded toe shoes.

Three of his mates mount a ladder over the fortress walls. They too are hatless and wear blue jackets. It appears that the engraver or the colorist has given the second tar climbing the ladder a handkerchief around the neck, or perhaps a collar of different color than the body of the jacket.

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.

Selection of Scotch, English, Irish and Foreign Airs, 1782

Frontispiece to A Selection of Scotch, English, Irish and Foreign Airs, by James Aird, published by J. McFadyen, 1782, Internet Archive.

Special thanks to follower Adam Hodges-LeClaire for pointing this one out.

Published late in the American Revolutionary War, Aird's five volume work was dedicated to 'the Vounteer and Defensive Bands of Great Britain and Ireland.' It contained music to inspire the soldiers and sailors in the defense of their homeland, the suppression of the rebellious colonies, and the invasion of foreign territories.

The figures in the frontispiece represent a grenadier and highland solider, and two sailors. The grenadier tramps on the seal for Spain, and the soldiers stand on the banner of France. Recognizing the presumed motivations of sailors, an open chest of coins lays beside them.

Both sailors wear long trousers that end above the ankle and taper a bit close to the leg. Both wear jackets with drop collars, turned back cuffs, and matching lapels. One wears a double breasted waistcoat, and the other wears a single breasted waistcoat. They both sport bob wigs and round hats, though the fellow on the left has a uniformly upturned brim with tape, and the other's hat is turned up on both the left and right and bears some sort of device on the front. One sailor holds a curved cutlass still in its sheath.

Saint George for England, 1781

Saint George for England, Carrington Bowles, 1781, British Museum.

At the base of this print is a poem, surmounted by a bowl of punch:

Behold your Saint with Glorious English Fare,
Noble Sirloin, Rich Pudding and strong Beer.
For you my Heart's of Oak, for your Regale,
Here 's good old English Stingo Mild & Stale.
This Porter is by Famous Calvert made,
Justly Renowned of all the Brewing Trade.
Such cheer as this will make you Bold & Strong,
Who'd not on such a Noble Saint, Rely on.

Lifting his foaming tankard with a smile, our jolly tar is Saint George himself, patron of England. He is the first in a series of seven "Tutelar Saints" (meaning guardian saints) produced by Bowles. Each represents a different nation, riding a different mount, and carrying a different indulgence. Patrick on a horse with wine for Ireland, Andrew on a unicorn with snuff for Scotland, and David on a goat with leeks. The remaining three are for Spain, France, and Italy, but I have not yet found the images nor the saints connected with those.

I have often pointed out on this blog that the British nation was increasingly personified in the image of a common sailor as the eighteenth century progressed. Here we see that trend at its logical conclusion. Saint George is no longer a knight on horseback lancing a dragon, but is a sailor with a comically oversized sword driven through the white flag of France and raising a good Calvert & Co. porter to his victory.

His reversed cocked hat is festooned with a large badge bearing the cross of Saint George, and topped with acorns. Beneath it he wears a bob wig. George's dotted neckcloth is draped over his checked shirt, jacket, and sword.

Bowles couldn't decide on which pattern to make George's single breasted waistcoat, so he alternates between plaid, horizontally striped, and vertically striped. His jacket is piped in a plain tape, around the cuffs, lapels, and pocket. George's trousers end above the ankle and are remarkably wide bottomed. Plain stockings run into shoes with oval buckles.

The Honest Sailor, c1746

The Honest Sailor, Sr Peter Warren Kt of the most Honourable Order of the Bath, Vice Admiral of the White Squadron, of His Majesties Fleet, And Member of Parliament of the City & Liberty of Westminster, artist unknown, c1746, National Maritime Museum.

Sir Peter Warren was an Irish officer in the Royal Navy, who met with astounding success. Warren made his career in the New World, sailing and fighting from the Caribbean to Nova Scotia. His most famous victory is portrayed in this print by an unknown artist, who shows Warren casually pointing over his shoulder to the amphibious assault on Louisbourg. Warren commanded the British squadron that blockaded and supported the siege, while New England troops (who he thought little of) manned the guns, dug the trenches, and did the fighting ashore. Seizing Louisbourg ensured British victory in North America. Interestingly, the same strategy (a naval blockade supporting ground troops who seized Lighthouse Point on Cape Breton Island to bombard the town into submission) was used with success in 1758.

Beneath the portrait of Warren is his coat of arms. To either side of it are two seamen bearing dual pistols in a belt and a cutlass shaped like a scimitar. They wear the same slop clothes: a cocked hat over bob wig, short closely tied neckcloth, close fitting single breasted jackets with flap pockets at the waist, and a darker pair of trousers that ends about the bottom of the calf.

The Antigallican Spirit, 1750's-60's

The Antigallican Spirit, Thomas Ewart, c.1750's-60's, British Museum.

"Would Statesmen but this Picture View-" begins Ewart's inscription on this engraving, "Wear Hearts as honest and as True, the Haughty Gauls with Purse proud Spain, Would be our Vassals on the Main." Ewart offered this one penny broadside, complete with strained prose, lauding the successes of the Antigallican privateer.

Antigallican, under Captain William Forster, was a privateer out of London in the Seven Years War where she met with enough success to inspire a song.

Public Advertiser, January 3, 1757, Page 4.

I have searched through newspapers of the time, and find references to privateers named Antigallican out of Liverpool and Newcastle, but I have yet to find one captained by Forster in 1781, which the British Museum claims is the possible year of publication for this piece. It is possible that I have overlooked a source. It is also possible that this broadside is a fond remembrance of recent memories. Britain's successes in the Seven Years/French and Indian War were fresh in the minds of the British people, even as the fortunes of the American War were at a low ebb.

Given that Thomas Ewart published primarily in the 1750's and 1760's, it is more likely that this piece was also published in that period, when the topic of Forster and the Antigallican would have been more relevant.

Standing ashore, a pair of sailors shake hands. The first offers a toast: "Here's to Our noble apt Forster and a safe Arrival of the Three Prizes in the River Thames." The toast is continued by his mate: "May the french Fleet be put up to Auction & the French King not have a penny of money to bid for it."

Holding a punch bowl, this sailor is dressed in a single breasted jacket with open slit cuffs over a checked shirt. Crossing his body is a baldrick for his sword, a fine piece with an animal head pommel. His hair is short and loose. Our sailor's neckcloth is plain and tied close to his neck. Petticoat trousers hand to just below the knee, and the ties of his breeches are peaking out beneath. At his feet is a round hat with a short, conical crown and a ribbon hanging off.

His mate wear a plain neckcloth tied close to the neck and a plain white shirt beneath a jacket that ends above the top of the thigh and open slit cuffs. Above his head he waves a round hat, and a sword hangs from his left hip. His plain trousers end just below the middle of the calf.

Jack on a Cruise, 1780

"Jack on a Cruise" M. Darly, 1780, Library of Congress.

"Jack on a Cruise," M. Darly, 1780, British Museum.

features a sailor giving chase to a young lady, calling out "Avast there - back your Main-top-sail!

The sailor in this piece is damnably well dressed! His round hat with short brim has a dashing bow that might be silk. His hair is shoulder length, but not quite so loose as many other sailors we've seen. The neckcloth is very neatly tied like a mid-nineteenth century cravat, and appears to be black as well.

Jack's hat is a wide brimmed black piece with a remarkably large cockade or bow, also of black. Jack's hair is long, hanging down of the back of his neck. A white collar peaks up from under the black cravat tied at his neck. His jacket resembles a military regimental coat, rather than a sailor's jacket: the lapels (white in the Library of Congress piece, as well as on the half of the jacket the colorist didn't get to on the British Museum's copy) are held back by brass buttons to the blue body. Beneath it is a double breasted waistcoat with matching buttons and narrow vertical stripes. Jacke's trousers are also striped, though it appears in the British Museum copy that they are blue trousers with narrow white stripes running vertically. The Library of Congress version shows stripes that are roughly equal in size both light and dark.

In both versions he wears white stockings with pointed toe shoes and rectangular buckles. In his left hand is a walking stick, and a sword or cutlass hangs from his waist.

Proclamation of Peace, 1783

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

Mocking the alliance of America, France, Spain, and the Dutch during the American War of Independence, this political cartoon nevertheless welcomes the end of the war. An angel flies over the party, heralding the peace. At the head of the small group is an America, holding aloft a tomahawk and gleefully exclaiming their lack of loyalty to both Britain and the alliance. France is nonplussed (though happy for the steady supply of tobacco), while both Spain and Holland are intimidated by Britain, in the person of Jack Tar.

Our Jack wears no hat, and sports short curly hair. His neckcloth is striped and tucked into the single breasted waistcoat. His dark jacket is without collar or cuffs, and ends about the top of the thigh. Wide legged petticoat trousers run down to his calves, allowing us to see his white stockings and round toed shoes with rectangular buckles. In his right hand, Between he and Holland is a short sword with an eagle headed pommel.

S (Sailor), 1781

"S (Sailor)," Thomas Bewick, 1781, British Museum.

Taken from the book Reading Made Very Easy and Diverting, this illustration of a sailor represents the letter "s." Given that this book is intended to get the concept across as quickly and easily as possible to the reader, we can take this image as an effort to capture the stereotypical appearance of sailors.

He wears a cocked hat witht he point forward, a double breasted jacket without cuffs that ends at the waist, long and close fitting trousers made with a broad fall fly, and a sword at his waist. And what sailor would be complete without a rather large tankard or a glass in his hand?

To the right of the sailor is what appears (at first glance) to be a keg or barrel. According to the curators of the British Museum that is intended to be the rear of a cannon.

The able Doctor; or America Swallowing the Bitter Draught, 1774

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

The peaceful petitions of the Bostonians lay ragged on the ground, while Ministers hold down the personification of America and force her to drink their tea. Britannia looks away in shame, but France and Spain smile at the work of the English government. The atrocity is watched over by a naval guard, who stands with sword bared. His blade reads "Military Law."

The evil Jack wears a round hat with a short crown, and short curled hair. His neckcloth is more of a cravat, and tied tightly around the neck. Its ends must be tucked into his plain white shirt, the collars of which are folded up and over his single breasted jacket. The jacket is tucked into his slops, and is made with cuffs. His slops are short, ending above the knee and giving us a very good look at the hem of his breeches. The stockings are plain, running to pointed toe shoes with oval buckles.

His sword is highly unusual, with a thick triple guard and wide blade. Certainly not the standard cutlass of the Royal Navy! At his waist is a belt with a pair of pistols, each turned with the butt forward.

The Times, 1762

The Times, artist unknown, 1762, Lewis Walpole Library.

This print is an imitation of Hogarth's much more well known "The Times." One particular piece of the print confirms this:

The wagon, under guard, is marked "Galleons." It represents the prizes taken by the Royal Navy during the Seven Years/French and Indian War. A nearly identical scene is in the background of Hogarth's "The Times," and in almost the same place: the mid-left background. Hogarth's version was more specific in labeling the wagon as bearing loot from the Spanish ship Hermione. 

In the foreground of the wagon a rowdy sailor is starting some mischief, perhaps egged on by the trumpet blaring "Britons Strike!" Given the length of the rod that his target bears, I would guess him to be part of the Watch. He wears either a round hat turned up both front and back, or a reversed cocked hat. His jacket is without cuffs that we can see, and is open to reveal a plain shirt and neckcloth.

To the right of the brawling tar is another pair. One raises his sword to dash the sleeping Dutchman, but his arm is held by a shipmate. Behind them is a map of Minorca, an island in the West Indies taken by the French after they defeated the Royal Navy. This was the same battle that Admiral Byng shied away from, leading to his humiliation and execution.

The tar with the raised sword wears a reversed cocked hat, a remarkably short neckcloth, and a jacket with open mariner's cuffs. It ends about the top of the thigh. He also wears a single breasted waistcoat that is open to about halfway down, and bears flap pockets at the waist. Beneath is a checked shirt. His slops end just below the knees.

Steadying the arm of aggression, the other tarpawlin wears a darker hat, though I'm not positive as to its type. His jacket matches that of his mate, as does his single breasted waistcoat and slops. His right arm pokes out from under the mariner's cuff of his jacket, revealing another checked shirt. He too wears a very short neckcloth.

A dead fiddler lays propped up against the far left of the frame, and beside him a pair of ragged jacks who may have done the deed. The first kneels beside the dead man, wearing a round hat with an upturned brim, and waving his cudgel toward the figure at center. His slops are pulled back just enough to let us see his breeches, but not enough to give us any detail on them. He wears no waistcoat nor neckcloth. As with the others, his jacket's cuffs are opened.

The same is true of the tar behind him. Likewise wielding a cudgel, he wears a reversed cocked hat, and a suit of slop clothes that perfectly match the sailors to the far right of the frame, down to the checked shirt!

Earl of Cornwallis Bound to Bengal, 1783

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

Earl of Cornwallis Bound to Bengal, William Gibson, 1783, Mariners Museum.

Here's a fun piece! It depicts the ship Earl of Cornwallis, which was launched the same year this image was made. She was a 774 ton merchantman that made several voyages for the East India Company, before conveying convict servants to Australia beginning in 1800. Aside from the Earl, there are a series of small vignettes along the bottom of the image, mostly depicting the disastrous fate of other vessels, like the Amity and General Barker.

A well dressed sailor dabs his eyes, holding a scroll that I (unfortunately) cannot read. This sailors is the artist: William Gibson, third mate of the Earl. This is indicated by his fine dress and the instruments surrounding him. By his feet is a compass bearing his name, speaking trumpet, octant, quill, parallel ruler, and other items associated with navigation and command. Gibson wears a round hat bound in white tape, a white shirt without waistcoat, a blue coat with sky blue facings, and white metal buttons. His trousers are broad fall with narrow stripes (which appear to be blue, but I can't be sure) and a black neckcloth. Normally I wouldn't detail the uniform of an officer, but the dress of merchant officers is little represented in the art of the time, so this offers us a wonderful glimpse!

These heavily armed merchant sailors, standing over the red ensign flown by merchant vessels of the time, show how dangerous times were for British commercial vessels. On the right is a tar with a cocked hat bound in white tape, a yellow neckcloth dotted in red, a blue jacket, red waistcoat, and slops. White stockings are just barely visible between his slops and the ensign. Wrapped about his waist is a brace of two pistols, and slung over his back is a musket.

His mate at the left is in a round hat with a cylindrical crown and edged in white tape. A black neckcloth hands down over his double breasted blue jacket with mariner's cuffs and double breasted red waistcoat, both of which have cloth buttons. Just like his mate, he wears slops and white stockings. This tar's armament is a bit different from the other, in that he carries a musket and cutlass.