Slaves and Free Blacks in the Virginia Navy

A quick note: my name is Mike Romero, and I'm a Historic Interpreter at Colonial Williamsburg.  The postings I make on this site are my own personal opinions and research, and do not necessarily reflect the views of Colonial Williamsburg.  With that said, enjoy the read!

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Facade of Cesar Tarrant Elementary School in Hampton,
open from 1970-2015, and named for an enslaved veteran
of the Virginia Navy in the American Revolution.

It can be difficult to write with any confidence about the Virginia State Navy in service during the American Revolution, primarily because very few records (and certainly nothing in the way of individual ship logs) survive.  To help encourage my oldest daughter as she worked on a school report for Black History Month, I decided to do a little research into slaves and free blacks serving in the Virginia State Navy; records for something so specific are even more difficult to find, but with a little perseverance I was able to discover several interesting stories.

Various court records, land bounty claims, journals of the House of Delegates, and other sources give multiple names: Abram, William Boush, Chris (a mulatto), Emanuel, Jack Knight, Kingston (owned by Jenifer Marshall, sailing master of the row galley Accomac, and assigned to the same vessel as a foremast jack), Minny, and Singleton...these men are described only as "negro," though several are rated as pilots.  Pilots could be very valuable resources to military or merchant vessels coming into local waters; pilots are hired to guide ships through shallows, around sandbars, shoals, etc, to arrive at a safe mooring.

Slightly more substantial information exists for two slaves named Cuffy.  The first Cuffy, owned by Elenor Boury, is enlisted aboard the galley Norfolk Revenge in September 1777 as an able seaman...such a rating implies in most cases several years experience at sea.  The second Cuffy was assigned as a pilot aboard a row galley under the command of Hampton's Richard Barron.  This Cuffy "died from injuries received in service" in 1781.

A small entry exists for Nimrod Perkins, "a freeman of Colour" who served aboard the row galley Diligence.  According to records circa 1831, Nimrod and shipmates William White and Elkanah Andrews are the only surviving members of the crew.

A desertion notice from Dixon and Hunter's Virginia Gazette, May 16, 1777.

Joseph Ranger was a free black captured by the British aboard the schooner Patriot in early 1781. Though he remained a prisoner for the remainder of the war, Ranger had also previously served aboard the Virginia vessels Hero, Dragon, and Jefferson.

Cesar Tarrant, an enslaved pilot owned by Carter Tarrant of Hampton, would go on to distinguish himself during the American Revolution.  In 1779, Cesar was at the helm of the schooner Patriot (itself a tender of the larger vessel Tartar) in an action against the British privateer Lord Howe. Despite the enemy vessel being more heavily armed and manned than initially supposed, the Virginia vessels closed in to attack. Cesar bravely brought the Patriot alongside Lord Howe, ramming her bowspirit through the galley porthole of the larger vessel.  Tartar and Patriot's attack on Lord Howe would prove to be a rather bloody affair, with the British privateer eventually making its escape despite the best efforts of the Virginian tars.  Cesar was at Patriot's helm throughout the engagement, and was observed by Captain Richard Taylor to have behaved gallantly.  Following the end of the American Revolution, the state of Virginia would pass legislation securing Cesar's freedom: "Cesar entered very early into the service of his country and continued to pilot the armed vessels of the state during the late war; in consideration of which meritorious services during the late war it is judged expedient to purchase the freedom of the said Cesar."  Following his manumission, Cesar purchased a lot in Hampton where numerous white river pilots lived, apparently with some measure of respect, as several of these pilots petitioned the new state to grant licenses to skilled black pilots as well as whites.  In 1793, Cesar would purchase the freedom of his wife Lucy and their youngest child Nancy, though he would be unable to free their other two children, Sampson and Lydia, before his death in 1798.  Lucy would eventually be able to purchase Lydia's freedom in 1823, though Sampson's fate remains unknown.

Virginia was able to float the largest navy (upwards of fifty vessels of varying size at its height) among the thirteen original United States during the American Revolution, with a modicum of success. The contributions of brothers James and Richard Barron, Thomas "Silverfist" Herbert, and other prominent figures (more on these later) are handily remembered, but the efforts of free blacks and slaves in the defense of Virginia cannot be ignored.  As is seen in such inspiring stories as the Rhode Island Regiment, and James Armistead Lafayette, the freedom of Virginia and the United States was secured through the bravery of patriots from all walks and stations of life.

Sources:

Stewart, Robert Armistead. The History of Virginia's Navy of the Revolution

Tormey, James. The Virginia Navy in the Revolution: Hampton's Commodore James Barron and His Fleet

AfriGeneas Slave Research Forum Archive: Tarrant, Cesar. 

http://www.afrigeneas.com/forumdarchive/index.cgi/md/read/id/3533/sbj/tarrant-virginia-1700s-repost-from-surnames/

A Revolutionary Kegger: January 5, 1778

A quick note: my name is Mike Romero, and I'm a Historic Interpreter at Colonial Williamsburg.  The postings I make on this site are my own personal opinions and research, and do not necessarily reflect the views of Colonial Williamsburg.  With that said, enjoy the read!

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In January of 1778, the city of Philadelphia, PA was under British occupation.  During this time, Francis Hopkinson, Chairman of the Navy Board, entertained multiple suggestions on how to harass British naval forces in the Delaware River.  A suggestion from David Bushnell (designer of the submarine Turtle that had been put to use in New York two years previous) was put to use: kegs of gunpowder attached to buoy casks would be floated down the Delaware towards the British ships at anchor, where they would hopefully explode as improvised river mines.  Unfortunately, the scheme did not work as planned.  The British ships had already anchored in such a way to prevent damage from chunks of ice floating down the river, which also served to protect them from the mines.  Other than two curious boys who were killed investigating the mines too closely, no damage was done.  Once the threat of the mines had been identified, however, the British poured small arms and broadside fire alike into the Delaware, not allowing even a single keg-like object to remain afloat.  The incident became known as the "Battle of the Kegs."

A comical account of the action can be found in the Philadelphia Ledger: 

"Extract of a letter from Philadelphia, Jan. 9, 1778. - The city has been lately entertained with a most astonishing instance of the activity, bravery, and military skill of the royal navy of Great Britain. The affair is somewhat particular and deserves your notice. Some time last week, two boys observed a keg of singular construction, floating in the river opposite to the city. They got into a small boat, and in attempting to obtain the keg, it burst with a great explosion, and blew up the unfortunate boys. On Monday last, several kegs of a like construction made their appearance. An alarm was immediately spread through the city. Various reports prevailed, filling the city and royal troops with consternation. Some reported that these kegs were filled with armed rebels, who were to issue forth in the dead of the night, as did the Grecians of old from their wooden horse at the siege of Troy, and take the city by surprise, asserting that they had seen the points of their bayonets through the bung-holes of the kegs. Others said they were charged with the most inveterate combustibles, to be kindled by secret machinery, and setting the whole Delaware in flames, were to consume all the shipping in the harbor; whilst others asserted they were constructed by art magic, would, of themselves, ascend the wharves in the night-time, and roll all flaming through the streets of the city, destroying every thing in their way. Be this as it may, certain it is that the shipping in the harbor, and all the wharves in the city, were fully manned. The battle began, and it was surprising to behold the incessant blaze that was kept up against the enemy, the kegs. Both officers and men exhibited the most unparalleled skill and bravery on the occasion, whilst the citizens stood gazing as solemn witnesses of their prowess. From the Roebuck, and other ships of war, whole broadsides were poured into the Delaware. In short, not a wandering chip, stick, or drift log, but felt the vigor of the British arms. The action began about sunrise, and would have been completed with great success by noon, had not an old market-woman, coming down the river with provisions, unfortunately let a small keg of butter fall overboard, which, as it was then ebb tide, floated down to the scene of action. At the sight of this unexpected reinforcement of the enemy, the battle was renewed with fresh fury, and the firing was incessant till evening closed the affair. The kegs were either totally demolished, or obliged to fly, as none of them have shown their heads since. It is said that his Excellency Lord Howe has despatched a swift-sailing packet, with an account of this victory, to the court at London. In a word, Monday, the fifth of January, seventeen hundred and seventy-eight, must ever be distinguished in history for the memorable battle of the kegs."

Hopkinson would go on to write a propaganda ballad/poem about the action, frequently sung to the tune of Yankee Doodle:

Gallants, attend, and hear a friend
Trill forth harmonious ditty,
Strange things I'll tell that late befell
In Philadelphia city.
 'Twas early day, as poets say,
 Just when the sun was rising,
 A soldier stood on log of wood
 And saw a sight surprising.

As, in amaze, he stood to gaze;
The truth can't be denied, sirs,
He spied a score of kegs or more,
Come floating down the tide, sirs.
 A sailor, too, in jerkin blue,
 The strange appearance viewing,
 First damned his eyes in great surprise,
 Then said, "Some mischief's brewing."

"The kegs now hold the rebel bold
Packed up like pickled herring;
And they've come down to attack the town
In this new way of ferrying."
 The soldier flew, the sailor, too,
 And, scared almost to death, sirs,
 Wore out their shoes to spread the news,
 And ran till out of breath, sirs.

Now up and down, throughout the town,
Most frantic scenes were acted;
And some ran here and some ran there,
Like men almost distracted.
 Some "Fire" cried, which some denied,
 But said the earth had quaked;
 And girls and boys, with hideous noise,
 Ran through the town half-naked.

Lord William, he, snug as a flea,
Lay all this time a-snoring
Nor dreamed of harm as he lay warm
In bed with Mrs. Loring
 Now, in a fright he starts upright
 Awakened by such a clatter;
 He rubs both eyes and boldly cries,
 "For God's sake, what's the matter?"

At his bedside he then espied
Sir Erskine at command, sirs;
Upon one foot he had a boot,
And t'other in his hand, sirs.
 "Arise!  Arise!"  Sir Erskine cries;
 "The rebels---more's the pity---
 Without a boat are all afloat,
 And ranged before the city."

"The motley crew, in vessels new
With Satan for their guide, sir,
Packed up in bags, or wooden kegs,
Come driving donwn the tide sir.
 Therefore, prepare for bloody war!
 Those kegs must all be routed,
 Or surely we despised shall be,
 And British courage doubted."

The royal band now ready stand
All ranged in dead array, sirs,
With stomach stout to see it out,
And make a bloody day, sirs.
 The cannons roar from shore to shore,
 The small arms make a rattle;
 Since wars began, I'm sure no man
 E'er saw so strange a battle.

The rebel vales, the rebel dales,
With rebel trees surrounded,
The distant woods, the hills and floods,
With rebel echoes sounded.
 The fish below swam to and fro,
 Attacked from every quarter-
 "Why sure," thought they, "the devil's to pay
 'Mongst folks above the water."

The kegs, 'tis said, tho' strongly made
Of rebel staves and hoops, sirs,
Could not oppose the powerful foes,
The conquering British troops, sirs.
  From morn to night these men of might
  Displayed amazing courage,
  And when the sun was fairly down
  Returned to sup their porridge.

A hundred men, with each a pen,
Or more---upon my words, sirs,
It is most true---would be too few
Their valor to record, sirs,
  Such feats did they perform that day
  Upon those wicked kegs, sirs,
  That years to come, if they get home
  They'll make their boasts and brags, sirs.

This sounds like too much fun not to sing in the streets.  Who will join me on the chorus?

Sources:
Tim McGrath: Give Me A Fast Ship: The Continental Navy and America's Revolution at Sea
A Traditional Music Library: Battle of the Kegs
Stories of America: Battle of the Kegs
American Revolution.org: Battle of the Kegs
YouTube: Battle of the Kegs (Recorded by Oscar Brand)

Sextant Studies

A quick note: my name is Mike Romero, and I'm a Historic Interpreter at Colonial Williamsburg.  The postings I make on this site are my own personal opinions and research, and do not necessarily reflect the views of Colonial Williamsburg.  With that said, enjoy the read!

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I've been silent here for a few months, due primarily to being bogged down in research and training opportunities at Colonial Williamsburg.  A lot is happening at my end, and I've been trying to make the most of it.  Nonetheless, it's high time for a new post.  I thought I'd center my first post of the new year around one of my favorite props/instruments: the sextant.

For those not familiar with the story, early in the summer of 2016, I came across an excellent article on British Tars called "The Tools Needed for Dead Reckoning."  It described instruments like the chip log, log board, etc. and how they were used by mariners to approximate their use at sea.  As I'd recently been given a fair bit of leeway to interpret an 18th century sailor at Colonial Williamsburg, I thought this an excellent opportunity to develop an activity and demonstrate a purely nautical still at work that you wouldn't be likely to see anywhere in town.  Armed with an early 1700's map of the Caribbean, an improvised chip log, log board, and protractor, I set to work.  Setting up on a stack of crates along Duke of Gloucester, guests were quickly drawn to the map and began asking about what I was doing.  On numerous occasions throughout each day, I'd have small groups working with me to use the tools to plot an imagined course along the sea.  Very pleased to be having a positive impact with my dead reckoning demonstration, I described my successes on Facebook.  Not long after, I came home from work to find a package from Amazon from an unknown sender.  I opened it up to find the object in the picture, a nautical sextant stamped with "J. Scott, London 1753."

Obviously, I was surprised.  I'm still not sure who was kind enough to send this to me (I suspect it was a member of my family who is enthusiastic about what I had been doing), but I soon put the sextant to good use.  I was able to learn how to use the sextant fairly quickly by watching videos like this one on YouTube, and thanks to the Navigation in the Age of Sail group on Facebook, I was able to find a copy of the Nautical Almanac and Astronomical Ephemeris for the Year 1767 via Google Books.  From there, it was relatively easy to begin interpreting a noon sighting and showing guests how the sextant could be used to determine one's latitude.

Predictably, after going through the activity and seeing the sextant at work, guests frequently asked me, "Is this a real sextant from the time period?" Finding a complete answer to that one took some doing, but eventually I was successful.  Searching the maker's stamp on my sextant didn't yield me much...it doesn't seem to be based in any history I can find (yet), and searching "J. Scott London" online only takes you a page where you can purchase the sextant itself.  Multiple online sources, however, state that the first sextant was not produced until 1759 by John Bird.  Most images or descriptions of sextants I found from the period were made primarily of woods like mahogany or ebony, and numerous sources suggesting brass sextants were much heavier for their size and provided an undue amount of wind resistance when being used at sea.  Undaunted, I looked for more information on period sextants.  In reading through the 1767 Nautical Almanac to try and teach myself the lunar method for finding longitude (an uphill battle and one that frequently produces migraines, I assure you), I came across this description of an ideal instrument to be used:

"But it will be more convenient if the Instrument be made a Sextant, in which case it will measure 120o for the Sake of observing the Moon's Distance from the Sun for Two or Three Days after the first and before the last Quarter.  The Instrument will still be more fit for the Purpose, if it is be furnished with a Screw to move the Index gradually in measuring the Moon's Distance from the Sun or Star; an additional dark Glass, lighter than the mommon ones, to take off the Glare of the Moon's Light in observing her Distance from a fixed Star, and a small Telescope magnifying Three or FOur Times to render the Contact of the Star with the Moon's Limb more discernable.  A magnifying Glass of 11/2 or Two Inches Focus will assist the Observer to read off his Observation with greater Ease and Certainty."

Brass notwithstanding, this describes my own sextant fairly well.  It's tough to see in the image I posted at the top of the page, but my sextant does have a small telescope to magnify the image in the horizon mirror, a short focus magnifying glass to better read the index, and light and dark shades for the lenses.  More recently, I came across this tidbit in A Voyage Towards the North Pole, published in 1774 by Constantine Phipps of the Royal Navy as a chronicle of his expedition the previous year:

"The observations for finding the time at sea, were taken with a brass Hadley's Sextant of eighteen inches radius, made by Dollond; and sometimes by Captain Phipps, with a smaller of four inches radius, made by Ramsden, which commonly agreed with the other within a minute."
(From an appendix to the journal entitled Account of the Astronomical Observations and Time-Keepers, by Mr. Lyons.")

So while it may not be an exact replica of any particular piece, I'm able to conclude that sextants with the same features as mine may have been highly desired by readers of the 1767 Almanac, and that a sextant of similar size and material to mine (my own is only about four inches in radius) was in use in 1773.  With this information, I can show the guests a decent representation of a navigational instrument that could have been available to navigators of the late 18th century, and they boggle at how accurate these instruments could prove.  (Earlier this month, I calculated the south gate of CW's Capitol Building to within 2.4 nautical miles using my sextant and chronometer.)  As a visual curiosity, the sextant has drawn attention of guests from all ages from children interested in tools and science of the time to a World War II veteran (likely my most rewarding interpretive moment to date) who used a sextant while serving as a navigator aboard a B-17.

Keep in mind friends, I'm only at the tip of the iceberg when it comes to octants, sextants, and other navigational instruments of the 18th century.  I know full well there is a lot more to learn on the subject, and I look forward to the experience.

Sources:
British Tars, The Tools Needed for Dead Reckoning: http://britishtars.blogspot.com/2016/06/navigators-week-tools-needed-for-dead.html
Google Books: The Nautical Almanac and Astronomical Ephemeris for the Year 1767
YouTube: Getting Started in Celestial Navigation - The Marine Sextant
The History of the Sextant: http://www.mat.uc.pt/~helios/Mestre/Novemb00/H61iflan.htm
Google Books: A Voyage Towards the North Pole

"The Naval Lexington," Machias vs. The Royal Navy

A quick note: my name is Mike Romero, and I'm a Historic Interpreter at Colonial Williamsburg.  The postings I make on this site are my own personal opinions and research, and do not necessarily reflect the views of Colonial Williamsburg.  With that said, enjoy the read!

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With the outbreak of the American Revolution in April 1775, the senior British naval officer in the region of Massachusetts was Vice Admiral Samuel Graves.  Although he'd sworn support to General Gage in Boston, the American rebels had the unfortunate tendency to use whaleboats and other small craft to raid, destroy or capture possible sources of supplies or provisions Graves was seeking ashore.  The small town of Machias in Massachusetts Bay (now a part of Maine) would prove to be of common interest to both officers; Gage was in need of lumber from the small logging community to construct fortifications and barracks to support his efforts in Boston, and Graves was hoping to recover cannon and other materials from the wreck of HMS Halifax that had run aground in Machias Bay earlier that year.

Enter Ichabod Jones, a loyalist merchant with a plan.  The people of Machias were still recovering from a particularly brutal winter; Jones intended to trade provisions such as flour and pork for Machias lumber.  Both Gage and Graves approved of the scheme, with Admiral Graves dispatching HMS Margaretta (a schooner armed with 12 swivel guns) under Midshipman James Moore to escort Jones' ships Unity and Polly, and attempt to salvage the guns of the Halifax.  The people of Machias would prove to be less than receptive.  Upon receiving word of the Battles of Lexington and Concord just a few weeks earlier, the people of Machias had erected a liberty pole in the center of town to openly celebrate their loyalty to the American cause and the Sons of Liberty.

Unity and Polly arrived at Machias on June 2, 1775 while Margaretta was delayed attempting to salvage the guns of Halifax.  Almost immediately, Ichabod Jones was butting heads with the townspeople; he refused to offload his provisions unless he was also permitted to take on lumber for Boston.  The townspeople met on June 6 to discuss the issue, voting not to do business with Jones.  As a result, Jones prevailed upon Moore to bring Margaretta within firing distance of the town, prompting a second vote, which agreed to the trade...barely.  Following this, Jones announced that he would trade provisions only with those people who had voted in his favor.  The people of Machias had had enough.

Benjamin Foster, a local militia colonel, made plans with militia from other nearby towns to kidnap Ichabod Jones.  Jones, Moore, and his second-in-command where attending church in Machias on June 11 when the attempted kidnapping was to take place.  The plot was foiled when the minister's servant warned the intended victims, who were able to escape through a side window.  Ichabod Jones would escape into the neighboring woods while Moore and his second quickly returned to Margaretta.  The incensed Midshipman warned the people of Machias that if they attempted to interfere with Jones, his mission, or his vessels, Moore would destroy the town.

Machias townsfolk with the aid of local militiamen promptly boarded Unity and proceeded to forcibly remove the remaining provisions and stripping the vessel's sails to boot.  Others boarded the Polly, manned her guns, and opened fire on Margaretta.  Moore sailed his vessel out of immediate range, only to be approached by a flotilla of rowboats and small craft at dusk.  As the rebels moved to within hailing distance, Moore demanded to know their intentions, refusing to deliver Ichabod Jones at the rebels insistent request.  The townsfolk raised their muskets and pistols, accepting Moore's invitation to "Fire and be damn'd!"  Rebel small arms fire was quickly drowned by Margaretta's swivel guns, forcing them to row furiously out of range.

"Sloop Unity and the Schooner Margaretta" painted by Robert L. Lambdin

As the sun rose on June 12, Midshipman Moore observed Unity (freshly re-rigged) and Polly stuffed with armed men from Machias hunkered down behind breastworks improvised by the very lumber General Gage was in such need of.  Moore ordered Margaretta to make sail for the mouth of the harbor, but the schooner's boom and gaff carried away as she turned, severely hampering the vessel's progress.  Undaunted, Moore sent several of his crew to board a nearby sloop that had been neutrally observing the action thus far, and commandeered two spars so the Margaretta could make repairs.

Meanwhile, as the Machias men bore down on the schooner, they elected a man named Jeremiah O'Brien to serve as their captain through the remainder of the action.  As the two rebel vessels approached, O'Brien called out for Margaretta to "strike to the Sons of Liberty."  Moore resolutely turned into the wind, and ordered his men to open fire with as punishing a broadside as his swivels, muskets, and pistols could provide.  Despite this, Unity and Polly moved to attack Margaretta from either side.  Furious small arms and swivel gun fire continued, with Midshipman Moore personally throwing several hand grenades across to Unity before taking musket balls to the chest and belly.  As Moore fell mortally wounded to the deck, the rebels boarded the schooner, quickly forcing the British crew to strike their colors.

Margaretta was taken back to Machias, with the wounded Moore, unrepentant of his decision to stand and fight, being carried to the home of Stephen Jones (Ichabod's nephew). The next morning, he was said to gasp that he "preferred Death before yielding to such a sett of Villains" shortly before dying of his wounds.  Including Moore, the British lost five men dead and three wounded, compared to the rebels losing two men dead and five wounded.  O'Brien, hailed as a hero by the exultant people of Machias, was awarded with command of Unity, soon to be outfitted with Margaretta's swivels and renamed Machias Liberty.  As the summer continued, the people of Machias would take numerous other British vessels and form a small fleet which would soon be incorporated into the Massachusetts State Navy with Jeremiah O'Brien as its commander.

Although this would be the second naval action of the American Revolution, it involved the first surrender of a British warship to rebel colonial forces.  Nathan Miller would refer to the engagement as "the naval Lexington," as have others in the intervening years.  The British would return to Machias in 1777, but that is a story for another day...

Sources:
1. "Give Me a Fast Ship: The Continental Navy and America's Revolution at Sea" by Tim McGrath
2. "The Meaning of the Machias 1775 Naval Victory Lives on Today" by Harvey Spears, http://www.harveyspears.com/assets_d/18632/download_media/machias1775naval-victoryhs_107.pdf
3. "The Battle of Machias" Wikipedia, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Machias

STEAM and Nautical Interpretation

A quick note: my name is Mike Romero, and I'm a Historic Interpreter at Colonial Williamsburg.  The postings I make on this site are my own personal opinions and research, and do not necessarily reflect the views of Colonial Williamsburg.  With that said, enjoy the read!

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It's no secret that I'm fairly new to nautical interpretations and all the research it entails, but given some recent developments at work, I'm inclined to do some hard thinking on what I'm doing.  What am I hoping to impart to guests at Colonial Williamsburg in representing a sailor?  How can I enhance the guest's immersive experience of the 18th century?  What can I do to contribute more directly to CW's mission and goals regarding education.

Those that decide to follow this blog regularly will often see me cite the blog British Tars: 1740-1790, mainly because it's proven an excellent link to various sources of information.  Back in June, the Esteem'd Blogger posted a fine article on Effective Nautical Interpretation that resonated with me almost immediately.  The article suggested that if you really want to interpret an 18th century mariner, simply looking the part is not enough...you have to find a way of demonstrating those skills unique to sailors of the time.  Right around the same time, I came across another article describing The Tools Needed For Dead Reckoning, and I found a nautical skill I was able to learn and interpret fairly quickly and easily.

My own tools for dead reckoning.

My funds are sadly limited at this time, but I was able to improvise some tools: playing cards were cut and trimmed to rig a protractor and measuring scale, a dowel with string and another cut playing card became my chip log, a slate easily became my log board, and my supervisor was kind enough to issue me a 1715 chart of the Caribbean.  With these tools, during the early summer, guests and their families got a kick out of learning how mariners could roughly estimate their position based on course, speed, and leeway tracked throughout the day...groups of guests gathered together to determine an initial course, work the log, record the data, and plot their way across the chart.  It was really interesting to see where the kids ended up putting us throughout the day.  As the summer continued and I posted about my ongoing success with the activity on Facebook, I found a mysterious package on my doorstep one day:

Reproduction 1753 sextant, apparently from J. Scott in London.

I still haven't found out who was kind enough to send me the sextant, but that got me into learning the basics of celestial navigation.  An informative series of videos on YouTube showed me how to use the sextant and take a sighting of the sun at noon, and a search of Google Books turned up a copy of a nautical almanac from 1767...complete with information on the declination of the sun, notes on other celestial bodies, tables of proportional logarithms, information on how to take lunar observations to determine longitude, etc.  Several more rewarding weeks of interpretation followed as I taught guests how to use the sextant and almanac to calculate latitude...incidentally, this was just in time for Home Educator's Week at work, leading to a number of discussions about Nathaniel Bowditch and John Harrison with some really sharp kids and their families.

At about this time, one of the newer VP's at Colonial Williamsburg was making his usual rounds through the Historic Area, and he comes across me interpreting and teaching a family to use the sextant.  He was ecstatic; apparently, he's a major proponent of STEM (Science-Technology-Engineering-Mathematics) in education, and he's been wanting CW to represent topics and activities along these lines from the 18th century perspective.  He put me in touch with several members of our Teacher's Institute and educational outreach departments, and they were in turn impressed with how I was applying STEM principles; it's one thing to teach the basics of the math and what tools were used throughout history, but how to apply this information?  Interpreting celestial navigation gave the guests and I a problem to solve (navigating safely across the ocean) and the tools to solve it.  Everything is very much in the pre-planning stages at the moment, but there's a possibility that I might be called upon to demonstrate these activities to groups of teachers and school kids that come to town several times a year.

There's been a lot of talk recently about STEM focused programs in schools, and in general, I find myself supporting it.  With two young girls of my own in early grade school, I want them to have as an enriched and varied education is possible...fortunately they're in a phenomenal local school and are off to a great start.  However, STEM by itself is not enough.  I've got a Theatre Arts degree and draw on it almost daily at work.  Not too long ago, Keith Flippen, owner and manager of an acting school I've taken several classes from in recent years, posted on how he thinks the arts are an integral part of education and shouldn't be tossed aside.  I agree completely.  In talking with a colleague at work, she brought up the growing concept of STEAM (Science-Technology-Engineering-Arts/Music-Mathematics), and that seems like a much more rounded focus in education to me.  To that end, I've decided that as much of my work as possible will relate in some way to at least one aspect of STEAM (I'm rapidly filling a three ring binder with interpretive ideas and activities along these lines) and encourage my coworkers to do the same.  Quite a few of my future posts should flesh this goal out a bit further.

All right, so this post has been more of a mission statement than anything, and I thank you all for sticking with me.  I promise the next one will dive a little deeper into nautical interpretation itself.

James Wyatt: Rennaissance Sailor

A quick note: my name is Mike Romero, and I'm a Historic Interpreter at Colonial Williamsburg.  The postings I make on this site are my own personal opinions and research, and do not necessarily reflect the views of Colonial Williamsburg.  With that said, enjoy the read!

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Greetings, everyone!

Allow me a brief introduction: my name is Mike Romero, an Orientation Interpreter at Colonial Williamsburg in Virginia.  Since the start of this year, I have slowly been issued bits of clothing (petticoat breeches, checked shirt, double-breasted waistcoat, etc) to present the image of an eighteenth century sailor to our guests.  I hope to eventually portray a named character along these lines, but it will take some time to get there.  In the meantime, I am trying to research the history, traditions, clothing, skills, ANYTHING having to do with sailors of the period to more fully develop my persona and interpretations.  I'm not often able to grab research time on the clock due to guest service needs, I usually snatch time during breaks or days off, so I may not update fairly regularly. I'm also fairly new to the Blogger system, so please bear with me if the page goes through a number of design changes in the near future.

At any rate, on to my inaugural post!

A few weeks back, I was visiting the British Tars blog and discovered the memoirs of James Wyatt, a British Privateersman during the mid-1740's. (His memoirs are available as a free download from Google Books.) Despite being over 200 years old, Wyatt's memoirs read like something out of Forester or O'Brian, and were great fun to read.  Through various vicissitudes of fortune, Wyatt begins as a trumpeter on the privateer vessel Revenge, is captured by the Spanish, escapes with several other men, driven by contrary winds onto the Barbary Coast, is captured and enslaved by Moors, eventually ordered released by the King of the Gum Coast, travels three hundred miles across the desert to Senegal and Gambia, and eventually makes his way back to England.

What fascinates me most about Wyatt's story is the sheer number of occupations he has during his life. At various points in the story, Wyatt is:

-A farm laborer.
-Apprentice dyer/woolcomber.
-Servant to various warrant officers of a British man-of-war.
-Musician to a travelling puppet show, learning the drum and trumpet.
-Trumpeter aboard the privateer Revenge.
-Drum instructor while captive on the Canary Islands.
-Carpenter and gardener while captive on the Canary Islands.
-Dyer and hat dresser while captive on the Canary Islands.
-Operator/demonstrator of an 'Electrical Machine' upon his return to England, soon to travel to Jamaica to pursue this career further.

Oddly enough, I'm pretty sure I can use this at work!  In my position, I'm assigned to work the door of a different historic site at CW every day: you might find me at the entrance to the Capitol, the wigmaker, printing office, tailor, Governor's Palace, etc, orienting the guests to what's happening inside and generally being helpful.  This year, the upper management has been wanting to show more life on the streets by having my fellow OI's and I do various activities at our sites, related to the site itself whenever possible.  Earlier this summer, I began demonstrating dead reckoning skills with a chart and improvised chip log, before being generously gifted a sextant and moving on to the basics of celestial navigation.  One or two of the sites have specifically mandated activities, like washing and combing wigs.  The point is, using Wyatt as an example, it could well be feasible for a sailor between commissions/cruises to be performing these or other odd jobs in town to keep in coin.  I can continue to show the sailor specific clothing and still give guests a more tangible interaction with the various sites in town.

As an OI, I'm not assigned a specific persona, nor expected to be purely 'in character;' first and foremost, I'm there to help the guests.  Naturally, we get quite a few people who want to believe everyone is a person right out of history, and want to play along: "So who are you?" I give them my usual line about being Michael, a sailor in the service of Virginia. "But why is a sailor working at the wigmaker/printer/coffeehouse?"  Basically, because I have to. :) Whether I'm doing some form of nautical activity or one put out by the trade itself, Wyatt's story gives me a means of remaining a sailor while doing these things while turning our guests on to a true 'Hornblower' type story.  I've already shared Wyatt's information with several interested guests who are thrilled that they can get such a unique 18th century story so easily.

Moving on, I wonder if my supervisor will let me have an Electrical Machine...