TYPES OF VOLUNTEER & YEOMANRY (1902) #25
The last in the series of illustrations taken from the cigarette card set “Types of Volunteer and Yeomanry”, issued by W H & J Woods Ltd of Preston in 1902.
The last in the series of illustrations taken from the cigarette card set “Types of Volunteer and Yeomanry”, issued by W H & J Woods Ltd of Preston in 1902.
Just a quick post to share some photos of two of my recently purchased Henry Martens yeomanry prints, now newly framed and hanging up on the wall here at Suburban Militarism.
And I’ll be sourcing frames for the remaining two prints at some point, when circumstances at the family exchequer improve…
I’ve very recently become the proud owner of some large antique prints purchased at what was an absurdly low budget price (aka ‘my price range’). On coming through the post, they emitted that strong musty smell suggestive of great age and antiques.
The four prints depict the following yeomanry cavalry regiments from the 1840s:
They are in excellent condition considering their great age. Coming with their own generously sized mounts, they are 45cm x 55cm in dimensions, so they are really quite large for a suburban domestic property. My wife has generously agreed to their being displayed in the spare upstairs room as soon as I source some appropriate frames.
So what’s the story behind these prints?
They are from a series of prints titled “Fores’s Yeomanry Costumes“. Each print is dated to a specific day of issue, between 1844 and 1846, and state that they are published in London by “…Messrs Fores, at their sporting and fine print repository & frame manufactory, 41 Piccadilly, corner of Sackville Street.”
‘Messrs Fores’ were the sons of Samuel William Fores. He was an illustrator and publisher based in London. Fores Senior was the son of a cloth merchant and established his business as a print seller in 1783, specialising in popular satirical caricatures. Yeomanry had featured in Fores publications prior to the 1840s. the most infamous of which was by George Cruickshank who created a biting satire on the 1819 Peterloo Massacre. The sarcastically titled “Manchester Heroes” are the men of the ‘Manchester and Salford Yeomanry’ who are sabreing defenceless men, women and children, to the anguished cries of “Shame!”
After S.W. Fores’s death in 1838, his sons took over the business and moved their output from satire to sporting scenes and fine art. This series of yeomanry costumes, begun a few years after their father’s death, was probably a part of that intentional move away from the satirical publications that had made his fortune.
The prints are plates numbered 1, 3, 4 and 6 from a series of eight, so far as I can tell, in total. The drawings are by Henry Martens, a military artist whom I’ve mentioned before on Suburban Militarism after seeing copies of some of his paintings displayed at the Royal Norfolk Regiment Collection, The 2017 Anglo-Sikh Wars exhibition and also at the Staffordshire Yeomanry Museum last year. I also saw a print from this very series when I visited the Shropshire Yeomanry Museum earlier this year. The print (plate 5 in the series) featured the South Salopian Yeomanry and was reproduced on my report on the Shropshire Yeomanry earlier this year.
Martens painted a great deal of military scenes in the early 19th century, notably on the Sikh and Xhosa wars. He was, however, apparently also well known for his depiction of British army uniforms released between 1839 and 1843 under a different publisher (Ackermann). The Yeomanry Costumes drawings appears to have been a natural continuation of his successful uniforms series with Ackermann.
Martens’ works were often engraved and hand-coloured by a lithographer called John Harris, and this is indeed the case with my own prints. The ridges of carefully applied paint on the prints can still be felt on the fingertips!
I’m well used to seeing the beautiful and prodigious work by Richard Simkin in his depictions of the yeomanry during the 1880s and 1890s. Henry Martens, it seems, can be placed in a tradition of faithfully recording the exotic dress of Britain’s yeomanry regiments, a tradition which was carried on by Simkin.
As I’ve indicated, I believe, at least four more paintings were produced in this series. These depicted the West Essex Yeomanry, the Buckinghamshire Artillery Corps, another scene of the Long Melford Troop from Suffolk and, as previously mentioned, the South Salopian Yeomanry. It’s interesting that two were produced for the Long Melford Troop and two for troops from Buckinghamshire and Yorkshire. Some of the prints (notably not the Long Melford Troop) includes a dedication to a local dignitary and the ‘Gentlemen of the Corps’. It’s possible that sponsorship was received by the publisher for this series from those willing and able to pay for the privilege.
There may be more than 8 prints in the series. I’ll keep my eyes peeled for any other bargains, though wall space for any more will be limited! I doubt another in a similar and affordable price range will turn up any time soon, however!
When painting 1/72 scale cavalry, I always enjoy adding white markings to my horses’ faces as this provides them with a little individuality and personality. Indeed, these markings are used in real life to identify individual horses in a herd. On the face, they are variously identified as blazes, snips, stars and stripes, depending on where on the face it appears and how extensive it is. Likewise markings on their lower legs are unique to each horses, these can be stockings, socks or boots, depending on their length up the leg.
Putting the finishing touches to the Prussian Cuirassier horses, I was looking around for a little inspiration and was drawn to my collection of Harry Payne postcards.
Born in 1858, Harry Payne was a Londoner, a son of a clerk. He went on to produce an enormous number of paintings on military subjects, many being sold as postcards produced by firms such as Gale and Polden, or Raphael Tuck and Sons.
After attending art school, he worked for a time for a firm of military contractors. By the 1880s, he had developed into a talented military artist and was enormously prolific. Furthermore, he even sold his work to members of the royal family including several commissions during Queen Victoria’s 1887 Jubilee.
Much of his work was produced with assistance from his older brother Arthur, although in exactly what capacity, I am unsure. No doubt, his assistance was invaluable in being able to produce such a high number of artworks to order. The two brothers produced a book together for the Queen’s Jubilee year with the original illustrations being presented to Queen Victoria herself.
Aside from the postcards, Harry and Arthur worked on illustrated material for The Strand Magazine, The Navy and Army Illustrated, The Graphic, and various books for, amongst others, Cassell, Virtue and Routledge. In 1903, a set of 50 images were painted for a Players set of cigarette cards, entitled “Riders of the World”.
Harry Payne was noted for his attention to detail in reproducing the military dress of the British army in his paintings. He research could be extensive and his 23 years spent in the West Kent Yeomanry further assisted his knowledge. Working in oil on canvas or watercolours, he was to prove a popular artist for decades.
Although he also painted a range of other topics (cowboys, rural scenes, etc), Payne’s speciality was in depicting the military uniforms of the British army during the late Victorian / Edwardian period. The army was in transition during this time, adopting khaki for its campaigns but still retaining their brightly coloured uniforms for other ceremonial duties. His artworks captured the full range of different orders of dress.
Aside from accurate and detailed uniforms, Harry Payne was a painter who prided himself in his depiction of horses. The cavalryman was still considered to be a highly effective force at the turn of the century. Whether armed with a rifle, sabre or lance, a cavalryman’s military equestrian skills were highly prized.
Flicking through his depictions of horses, I copied some of their markings to be reproduced on my Prussian cuirassier horses. I’m not an artist like Harry Payne; but aside from our shared enthusiasm for depicting military uniforms, I like to think we might also have in common an ability to derive a certain satisfaction from painting military horses too.
More on those Prussian Cuirassiers soon.
Being interested in artistic depictions of military history and uniforms, I occasionally come across images of female soldiers. I’m not referring to genuine servicewomen but instead to a certain genre of illustrations which show women in traditional military uniforms. There can be found examples of real women serving in genuine combat roles in western armies during the 18th and 19th century, Private Hannah Snell of the 6th Regiment of Foot and Marines being a good example (see below), but the illustrations I’m referring to are something entirely different.
Awareness of this topic first came to my attention when I bought a cheap set of trade cards many years ago called ‘Military Maids‘. When she saw them, my wife suggested they looked a bit creepy! She has a point; the ‘maids’ in question seem to be an unsettling mixture of the historically accurate and the suspiciously erotic. In these illustrations, one can see such examples as a beautifully drawn and entirely accurate depiction of a British 4th Light Dragoon in 1854; or a French Empress Dragoon of the Guard; or a splendid grenadier of a Swiss Napoleonic regiment.
The attention to accuracy and detail in the drawings is impressive. Tarleton and Mirliton helmets; Bell Shakos and Uhlan Czapkas; Stovepipe and Waterloo Shakos; Tricornes and Bicornes are all carefully reproduced with an expert knowledge. Furthermore, the quality of the illustrations is very high and a natural pose has been created for each soldier.
Did I say entirely accurately depicted? Not quite. Look closer and one realises that they all seem to sport exuberant perms crushed underneath their Czapkas, Shakos and helmets! They also wear high heels (a code of military dress I strongly suspect to also be inaccurate)… The neat cut of their uniforms leaves us in no doubt as to their gender, as well.
This wonderful illustration below, for example, depicts a musician from a lancer regiment holding a ‘serpent’. The serpent is one of my favourite military musical instruments, being so utterly bizarre and exotic. There’s a fine example in my local regimental museum.
However, once more I can’t quite shake the impression that it has been deliberately placed in the hands of this ‘military maid’ to ‘perform’ on entirely for its salacious connotations! I do like these cards, but the problem is that I’m not sure what the viewer is supposed to admire here. Are we admiring the fine depictions of historical military uniforms, the skilled illustrations, or the charming lasses who are wearing them? All of it?! It’s that combination of sexy pin-ups and historical military art that creates the unease that my wife quickly identified.
I also have in my military art collection a few postcards from a series called “Girl Soldier”. So far as I have discovered, the “Ellanbee Girl Soldier Series” of postcards were produced around the early 1900s (pre-WWI) and depict women in various full-dress British army uniforms of that period. Delightfully illustrated by “Ellam”, they share with the Military Maids series a dedication to historical accuracy, as can be seen in this Gordon Highlander below:
What they don’t share is quite the same lewdness in presentation. These ladies seem altogether a little more natural and military in their bearing. No peering coquettishly over the shoulder. No high heels, heaving bosoms or tumbling perms here; the only concession to femininity appears to be a possible hint of lipstick and their slender waists – suggestive of an Edwardian-era corset perhaps?! There’s a sense that these are images of ‘girls’ who not only appreciate wearing a fine uniform but are also capable of acting with confidence and bravery in them too.
The woman depicted below is of the Royal Horse Guards and wears a fabulously haughty look, entirely suitable for one in such a prestigious regiment.
And this lady is from the 12th (Prince of Wales) Lancers, holding her bamboo lance with a natural ease.
I’m always looking to add to my modest ‘Soldier Girls’ series collection, but they seem very rare and I can scarcely find anything whatsoever on the internet about the series. I’ve previously discovered two thumbnail views of a Life Guard and a Grenadier Guard, so I’m aware that there were at least those regiments also issued. The artist I believe to be a comic postcard illustrator called William Henry Ellam. Though I can find precious little about him, he seemed to also specialise in anthropomorphic humour (animals acting in a human manner).
Presumably, the idea of these being female and yet dressed like soldiers was intended to be ‘comic’ material for the Edwardian audience, in the same incongruous way that Ellam’s cats dressed in top hats might have been viewed – charming simply for being preposterous. But I find them artistically pleasing in their own right, and it must have been an unusual (if unintentionally) empowering view of womanhood at a time when even universal suffrage had yet to be achieved.
So, if Military Maids was titillating and Soldier Girls was patronising, what does that make me? I’ll dodge the question and simply call myself an incorrigible collector of all types of military artwork!
To end with; below are more images from the Military Maids series and also a card from the Army Careers Information Office circa 1992, featuring (at that time) a more up to date and realistic image of a “girl soldier” in uniform.
Finally, an appeal: any further information on the Soldier Girls series would be gratefully received!
August 2018 Update:
Mark at Man of Tin blog has been inspired to create some imagination female soldiers in blue uniforms using some old metal figures by Wellington Toy Company. You can check it out here.
Now my Russian Cuirassiers have joined their mounted colleagues in the Nappy Cavalry Project, I can now at last turn my attention to my figures intended for the BFFGMFP.
These marching figures are from RedBox’s British Infantry of the 1745 Culloden campaign. The box information suggests that these figures are suitable for campaigns stretching from the 1745 Jacobite Rebellion right through to the 7 Years War (1756-63). A fellow figure painter on Benno’s Figures Forum indicated he was interested in the battle of Minden in particular and it got me thinking of the Kipling poem at the top of this post. (No chart hits for me going through my mind of a morning as I take the bus to work – it’s Rudyard Kipling!)
But this post isn’t about Minden, or even Rudyard Kipling either. It’s not even about Richard Simkin, late-19th century military artist and painter of the Battle of Minden depicted at the top of this post. Instead it’s about David Morier, an Anglo-Swiss painter of the 18th century. My painting guide below for the BFFGMFP comes from Morier’s own illustration of the 17th Regiment of Foot, circa 1750:
The regiment that I’m painting will be based on this contemporary image of the 17th Regiment of Foot. In 1751, the British army regiments became numbered in order of seniority. Prior to that date, it was the custom for regiments to be simply named after its colonel. At the time of the 1751 change, the 17th was known as ‘Wynyard’s Regiment of Foot’. The 17th Foot later became known as The Leicestershire Regiment (after my home county).
Morier’s paintings were made under the patronage of the then Commander-in-Chief of the British army; The Duke of Cumberland (aka ‘Butcher’ to his opponents). David Morier carefully depicted many regiments in Cumberland’s army at the time, as well as some landscape paintings including perhaps his most well-known work; “An Incident in the Rebellion of 1745” (presumably catchy titles weren’t his strong point). This painting happens to be the box art used on the cover of the RedBox figures I’m painting for BFFGMFP!
The Duke of Cumberland was the son of King George II. Despite his victory at Culloden, he rarely showed any great skill at generalship and his general incompetence in the 7 Years War led to his removal from command, notwithstanding his regal position. With Cumberland’s demise, David Morier had lost his patron. He nonetheless exhibited equestrian portraits throughout the 1760s. Like myself, it seems that Morier was a prolific painter of cavalry! Here are some examples of his regimental cavalry paintings:
Tragically, he later fared rather badly – possibly as a consequence of the decline in royal patronage, ending up in London’s notoriously foul Fleet prison for debtors where he died in 1770, aged 65.
By 1760, the year of the Battle of Minden, the Duke of Cumberland had already been removed from command and David Morier was embarking on his (presumably unprofitable) equestrian exhibitions for the Society of Artists. However, ‘the men that fought at Minden’ would have still looked much as Morier had carefully depicted them some years before.
Hopefully, I can do his paintings some justice with my own figures. With all that scary detail on the figures though, I’m feeling none too confident at the moment!
Even as a boy, I’ve always had a keen interest in military art. In pre-internet days (remember those?) often the only way to see such art was in books borrowed from the library. Many favourites I can still recall today; Philippoteaux’s depiction of Waterloo or Fontenoy; Lady Butler’s “Steady the Drums and Fifes”, “The Roll Call” or the charge of the Scots Greys in “Scotland Forever”; Charles Fripp’s “The Battle of Isandlwana” was on my bedroom wall, whilst Terence Cuneo’s painting of Lance Sergeant Smith winning the Leicestershire regiment’s first VC in the Crimea could be seen in my local museum.
I’ve received through the post today a copy of the 1982 book “Uniforms of the British Army: The Cavalry Regiments”, which features many of the watercolour paintings by Richard Simkin. Simkin was a military artist from the late Victorian period whose output was truly prodigious. Whilst in no way perfect, he was far ahead of most of his peers both in terms of quality and historical accuracy. Though not averse to painting action scenes, his speciality was in uniform depictions. He would fulfil commissions for individual regiments or complete a series (as he did in a huge project lasting over a decade for the Army and Navy Gazette).
Aside from the many fabulous full colour plates of Simkin’s beautiful work, the book is packed with information on the history of uniform development covering all the British cavalry regiments (4 Guards, 7 Dragoon Guards and 21 numbered line regiments).
Perhaps it’s come a little late for the Nappy Cavalry Project as I don’t think I’ll be painting any more British cavalry this year. Nevertheless, I’ll be spending many a happy hour browsing through its pages. This is his depiction of the Royal Horse Guards in 1815. I’ll be presenting my own painted 1/72 scale model versions hopefully a little later this week…