Author: Christine King, Sir Bevill Grenvile’s Regiment

Orders of the day, Volume 32, Issue 5, 2000

A recent letter to “Orders of the Daye” suggested that while we can be as painstakingly accurate as we like in regard to our costume and dress, this will not necessarily improve our presentation in terms of public enjoyment, unless it is coupled with a willingness to adopt an interesting and, dare I say it, entertaining persona. While authenticity is important, we should never lose sight of the fact that we are there to entertain as well as to educate. In the light of this, I thought members may be interested in my experiences aboard the Grand Turk.

As many people will know, the Grand Turk is a reconstruction of an 18th century frigate, probably best known as HMS Indefatigable in the ITV series of “Hornblower” adaptations. She has been visiting ports all over Britain as part of the National Trust’s “Neptune” campaign, to boost awareness of coastal conservation. A non-re-enactor friend and I went to see her in Plymouth.

Much of what I am about to say may appear somewhat critical at first, so I should begin by emphasising that I was, overall, extremely impressed. My companion, whom I had ruthlessly press-ganged, came aboard with only the scantiest knowledge of maritime history, and even less of what to expect from historical re-enactment. She thought it was great.

I do not want this article to be seen as a ‘knocking the opposition’ job. I may be mistaken, but I do not think any of the re-enactors aboard the Turk were members of a society. Some were locally-recruited National Trust volunteers, others members of the crew. In other words, they were themselves the ‘sponsors’ of the event. Since we are sometimes told it is the sponsors who are insisting on rigorous authenticity, this shows an interesting difference in approach between The National Trust and, for example, English Heritage. We have to be aware that not all sponsors have the same approach, or want the public to get the same things out of an event.

As a re-enactor myself, I saw much that would have brought tears to the eyes of anyone organising a Sealed Knot Living History event. There may well be legal requirements which prevent modern safety equipment being obscured, even when the ship is tied up alongside, but I doubt these apply to canvas-duty treadle sewing machines left in plain view only yards from where a crew-member is demonstrating traditional sail-making skills. I also found the necessary mixture of history and wildlife conservation somewhat grating, and would have preferred the two kinds of display to be separated in some way, perhaps at different ends of the deck, rather than placed at alternating mess-tables along the length of the deck.

Costume-wise, standards varied. Some of the people speaking to the public wore modern clothes, others were in authentic period dress - at any rate, dress which was not obviously wrong to a person with a fair knowledge of the period but who did not have a detailed expertise in the clothes. I know what Napoleonic-era naval uniforms and Empire-line dresses looked like, but I wouldn’t have a clue about the shoes, the buttons, the design of the lace, and all the other details by which we judge our own authenticity performance, and I think most of the rest of the paying public would have been in the same position. As is our public. Between these two extremes was a whole range of re-enactment anathemas: a lady on deck in I8th century shift, bodice and skirt, no cap, modern watch made particularly obvious by pushed-back sleeves, modern handbag, and sunglasses; sailors wearing the same paper pirate hats which were being dished out to the kids; a gentleman in modern kit giving a first-person delivery as a sailor and interacting in a cameo situation with a boy in full Midshipman’s uniform... And of course, confined aboard ship these people were extremely close to their public, standing talking to them face-to-face. Anyone trying to apply a ‘ten yard rule’ would have had to climb over the side...

The event coincided with a music festival being held in Plymouth, and at one point a modern folk group came aboard and began giving an impromptu performance of sea shanties on the quarter-deck. They contributed enormously to the atmosphere, but can you imagine that being encouraged at other re-enactment events? Even allowing the obvious fact of their modern clothing, people would be saying, “You can’t have what was a common sailor’s activity like singing low songs taking place on the quarter-deck.”

And this is the point: The sponsors were evidently not trying for detailed authenticity, they were trying for entertainment. The advance publicity for the event had already identified specific characters, telling visitors to seek out Lieutenant Codlin for information about ship’s discipline (lots of emphasis on “Horrible History” here!), or to see if they could spot ‘Jo’, a woman disguised as a man, who had run away to sea, lured by tales of romance and exotic lands like the heroine of a swashbuckling adventure, or to ask a seaman named Sullivan about the hinted-at ‘shady past’ which had forced him to take King George’s shilling. The people doing these first-person portrayals were without exception superb. They were all carefully researched, fully developed characters who could and did convey relevant historical information - but they were also fun characters. In fact, it was all fun: the cross-period music, the excellent cameos, the pirate hats ... And although, as a re-enactor myself, I was probably more aware of the quibbles I’ve mentioned here, I found that they did not detract from my more academic delight in the ship - which was what I had mainly come to see - while my friend, who as I’ve said did not have a specialist interest, thought I was being ridiculously picky and that the costumes and the swashbuckling was what ‘made’ the day. We came wanting different things from the visit, and we both went away pleased.

So, because I have been nit-picking, let me say it again: This event was great. The public were queuing up, the crew were enjoying themselves, and if the overall presentation lacked something by the perhaps self-critical standards of the re-enactment ‘industry’, it was like that because that was how these particular sponsors - not the local Lions Club or Carnival Committee but a highly respected body within the heritage industry - chose to have it.

Some sponsors don’t want to know you if you’re wearing desert boots. That’s fine; they’re the boss and we have to be able to give them what they want. Other equally desirable sponsors will allow almost any anachronism if you can spin a good yarn. Somewhere between them is the perfect balance, but that balance is composed of as many varying proportions of education to entertainment as there are different sponsors and events.

Please, don’t let’s limit our potential customer base by assuming accuracy of fine detail in the clothes we wear is what defines a successful re-enactment event.

And incidentally, the ship is a babe...