Catalogue Note: Lost to time for over two hundred years and recently rediscovered, this silver seal is one of only two surviving objects related to the famous 1st Continental or Rifle Regiment, the first American unit to be raised, equipped and paid directly by the Continental Congress. Also known as the Continental Rifle Regiment, [...] Click here to continue reading.]]> Sotheby’s Catalogue Note regarding the silver hand seal of the 1st Continental Rifle Regiment.

Sotheby’s, Important Americana, 24-25 January 2014.

Catalogue Note: Lost to time for over two hundred years and recently rediscovered, this silver seal is one of only two surviving objects related to the famous 1st Continental or Rifle Regiment, the first American unit to be raised, equipped and paid directly by the Continental Congress. Also known as the Continental Rifle Regiment, it was organized on January 1, 1776 from remnants of Thompson’s Pennsylvania Riflemen (then serving at the siege of Boston). The 1st Continental served with great distinction during the 1776 campaign, fighting valiantly against overwhelming odds during the battles of Long Island, Throg’s Neck and White Plains, and playing decisive roles in the American victories at Trenton and Princeton. In the ensuing years of the Revolution, it fought in nearly every major battle fought by Washington’s main army (Brandywine, Germantown, Monmouth, and Yorktown) and was disbanded in 1783 at the close of hostilities.

Colonel Edward Hand (1744-1802), its first commander, was one of General George Washington’s most valued and trusted subordinates. (1) Upon assuming command of the regiment, Colonel Hand, to promote in his riflemen a sense of esprit de corps, commissioned the fabrication of a regimental standard according to the specifications prescribed by General George Washington’s General Order of February 20, 1776:

As it is necessary that every Regiment should be furnished with Colours, and that those Colours should, if it can be done, bear some kind of similitude to the Uniform of the regiment to which they belong, the Colonels with their respective Brigadiers and the Qt. Mr. Genl. may fix upon such as are proper, and can be procured.–There must be to each Regiment, the Standard (or Regimental Colours)…The Number of the Regiment is to be mark’d on the Colours, and such a Motto, as the Colonel may choose, in fixing upon which, the General advises a Consultation amongst them. The Colonels are to delay no time, in getting this matter fix’d, that the Qr. Mr. Genl. may provide the Colours as soon as possible… (2)

A March 8, 1777 letter from Colonel Hand to Jasper Yeates describes the design selected for the 1st Continental’s flag:

Our standard is to be a deep green ground, the device a tiger partly enclosed by toils [a net], attempting the pass, defended by a hunter armed with a spear (in white), on crimson field the motto ‘Domari nolo.’ (3)

Through Hand’s lobbying effort, Congress authorized spending $9000 to provide uniform and other martial equipment for the Rifle Regiment. (4) The colonel subsequently wrote to James Milligan to oversee the contracting of distinctive green uniforms, a regimental standard made to the description noted above and a “regimental seal.” Milligan paid a good sum for the flag and the seal, being reimbursed 29 pounds, 13 shillings and 6 pence for the pair. (5)

Seals were of circular or oval form and crafted from either silver, gold, copper alloy or soft mineral. Those intended for heavy use were typically mounted on turned handles of hardwood, ivory or precious metal. Seals were used to ensure a document’s privacy and authenticity and their primary military use was for the authentication or notarization of important documents, such as discharges, that were frequently forged. (6)

While the maker of the 1st Continental’s seal is unknown, he was likely a leading silversmith working in the greater Philadelphia area. The stamp itself replicates the device found on the field of the regimental standard as described in Hand’s letter of March 8th. Both the standard and seal have ‘P.M. / 1st Rt.’ Superimposed above the device, for ‘Pennsylvania Militia, 1st Regiment’ (Milligan not realizing that Hand’s 1st was a regular Continental regiment, not Pennsylvania militia). Below the device is a scroll bearing the patriotic motto DOMARI NOLO or ‘I will not be subjugated’. As with the standard, the seal was entrusted to the successive regimental commanders and carried through the entire war, as evidenced by Hand’s May 12, 1777 letter to Lieutenant Colonel James Chambers, the new commanding officer of the 1st Pennsylvania Regiment (as the 1st Continental was redesignated in 1777):

Dear Sir,

No. 15 The Seal was Sent by C [aptain James]. Ross against Mr. [Frederick] Hubley in the Qr. Mastr. G[enera]ls Bill No. 4 you can pay by his Acct… (7)

Irrefutably authenticating this seal to the 1st Continental Regiment is Private Christopher Hartong’s surviving discharge paper from the regiment dated Long Island, July 1, 1776, which bears the wax impression from this seal next to Colonel Hand’s signature. (8)

Notes

(1) Hand (1744-1802) originally came to Pennsylvania in 1767 as a surgeon’s mate in the 18th (or Royal Irish) Regiment of Foot, having earlier completed his medical studies in Edinburgh, Scotland. Part of the 18th Foot, Hand included, were stationed at Fort Pitt (Pittsburgh). In 1772, Hand obtained an ensign’s commission, serving simultaneously as a company officer and regimental surgeon. When the 18th Foot returned to Philadelphia in 1774, Hand sold his commission and resigned from the army, married, and took up the practice of medicine in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Mark M Boatner III, Encyclopedia of the American Revolution, NY: David McKay Co, Inc., 1974), 484-485, 1099.

(2) The Library of Congress; George Washington Papers, Series 3g, Letterbook 1, p. 185.

(3) Latin for ‘I will not be subjugated; letter, Hand to Judge James Yeates of Lancaster, in Pennsylvania Archives. 2d series, X (1890), 12.

(4) Peter Force, American Archives, v. 5: 1178 and v. 6: 1202.

(5) National Archives, Record Group 93, M246. Muster rolls, payrolls, strength returns, and other miscellaneous personnel, pay, and supply records of American Army units, 1775-83; reel 80, folder 3, 162.

(6) Thomas Simes, The Military Guide for Young Officers. 2d ed. London: J. Millan, 1776, 172-173; Bennet Cuthbertson, Cuthbertson’s System, for the Complete Interior Management of Oeconomy of a Battalion of Infantry, Bristol: Rouths and Nelson, 1776; unauthorized, revised printing from 1st edition of 1768, 135-136, 141-142.

(7) University of Wisconsin Spec. Colls., Draper Manuscripts, ‘U’ Series, v. 1, Edward Hand Papers, Ltr, Hand to Chambers, May 12, 1777.

(8) National Archives, Record Group 15, Pension Applications of Revolutionary War Veterans; Pennsylvania; S.22810 of Private Christopher Hartong of Captain Charles Craig’s Company, discharged at Long Island on 1 July 1776 (discharge is found on page 22 of this file).

Sotheby’s offers thanks to Revolutionary War material culture expert James L. Kochan of Frederick, Maryland, who kindly granted us permission to publish a heavily abbreviated version of his forthcoming article on the subject, along with his photographs of the seal and related documents. Kochan is the author of numerous books, including Soldiers of The American Revolution, 1775-1783, 2007, and the recently published reference work, Insignia of Independence: Military Buttons, Accoutrement Plates and Gorgets of The American Revolution, 2012.

1800s Sea Captain’s Life Told Through Collection

At 6 foot, 4 inches tall and “powerfully built” Capt. Hall Jackson Tibbits would brook no foolishness.

After his “religious principles” were violated by passengers dancing on [...] Click here to continue reading.]]> Captain Hall J. Tibbits (American, 1797 to 1872)

This article about the life and career of Captain Tibbits by Eric C. Rodenberg appeared on the 4 November 2013 front page of Antique Week’s National Section. Used by permission. http://www.antiqueweek.com.

1800s Sea Captain’s Life Told Through Collection

At 6 foot, 4 inches tall and “powerfully built” Capt. Hall Jackson Tibbits would brook no foolishness.

After a trip around Cape Horn, from New York to San Francisco soured and passengers began to complain, he threatened to fire the ship’s powder magazine and “blow it all to hell.”

Characterized by his detractors as “habitually intoxicated and mentally deranged,” the Captain suffered few complaints from passengers or crew.

After sending a “disease-racked” sailor aloft to the crow’s nest during a gale, a passenger idly commented that it was a wonder the sailor ever survived. “Aye,” said Capt. Tibbits. “I never have sick crewmen for long.”

Although Tibbits was normally a China trades shipper, the gold strike in California in 1849, proved to be a boon to business. And Capt. Tibbits was all about business.

In January of that year, the owners of the 532-ton square rigger Pacific, Tibbits and Frederick Griffing, advertised for passengers to make the “trip around the Horn,” leaving New York and arriving in San Francisco. It was a perilous three-to six-month journey, with tempestuous storms and gales rounding The Horn of South America, piracy and uncertainties at every port.

However, the genial Captain assured his first-class passengers that for $300, he would provide an ample table, comfortable “staterooms” and superlative service.”

However, Tibbits could not resist the temptation of “overbooking” the passage, particularly after he sold officials from the New England Mining and Trading Co. a block of staterooms for $275 each. Supposedly the passage was limited to 50 staterooms; however, 72 first-class tickets were sold, according to an account in Forty-Niners ‘Round the Horn by Charles R. Schultz.

Once the passengers learned they had been hoodwinked, they filed a lawsuit. But, Capt. Tibbets – not to be dry-docked by any lawyer – quietly slipped the Pacific out of New York in the late afternoon “to escape any further problems with the lawsuit.”

Many of cash-paying customers were left ashore, helplessly jumping and screaming. In the end, those left on land would count themselves fortunate.

“The first disillusionment experienced by the passengers aboard the Pacific was the attitude of one Capt. Tibbets, who trod the quarterdeck,” according to an account published in the Oakland Tribune. “The jovial mariner who previously extolled the service of his craft, the bounty of its table and the conveniences of travel aboard the ship, proved a relentless tyrant as soon as land was left behind.

“Thirty days out of New York, the passengers were miserable with seasickness and cold. Snow confined them in verminous quarters. The food consisted of raw mush, preserved meats, dubbed ‘old junk,’ and beans. Some of the passengers asked why pickles and vegetables were not served with meals, and the Captain blandly explained these items as being saved against the time when the passengers developed scurvy.”

Once the ship made port in Rio de Janerio, the passengers scurried to the U.S. Consulate with their allegations of cruel and inhumane treatment. Despite protesting vigorously against what he characterized as “the abuse of authority and the outrages committed upon me individually,” Tibbits was relieved of duty by the American Consul. Another captain was appointed to commandeer the ship the remainder of the journey. Tibbits was left aground in Brazil, according to a 1958 account by maritime historian W.Z. Gardner, and had to make his own way to San Francisco to re-claim his ship.

Although the debacle of the Pacific during his latter years of command left a black mark on the Captain’s legacy, he was widely regarded among his peers as a loyal old salt with an intimate knowledge of the seas.

Despite tyrannical tendencies, Capt. Tibbits was a true “son of the sea.” He went to sea young, with his father who captained a three-masted square-rigger running the China trade route from New York to Canton.

By the time of his father’s death, the 24-year-old Tibbits was one of the youngest shipmasters in the China trade. “Young Hall was physically strong, mentally alert and keenly interested in mastering the mysteries of navigation,” Gardner wrote.

During the ensuing years, Tibbits would own and command several clipper ships, trading tea and silk on a trade route between America, China and South America. He bought the Baltimore clipper ship, Architect, and after sailing it around the Horn discovered “she was too cranky and hard to handle,” according to son, George’s account, recorded by Gardner. In 1854, he sold the ship in Hong Kong, “at a considerable financial loss.” The favorite of the Captain’s ships was the Southerner, a three-masted, 670 ton ship which initially carried ten guns to discourage piracy. Built in 1834 in the shipyards of New York, she responded to the Captain’s subtle and learned touch until retiring in 1851.

But, the Southerner did not always carry Tibbits to “fair seas.”

Trade with the Far Eastern Empire was lucrative in the era of 1830-1860, with Chinese furniture, silk and tea in high demand in the West. But the “price” was to be paid; engaging in the China trade was not for the faint-hearted. Trade and diplomatic relations between the Chinese and the West were fragile at best; at the worse, culminating in the Opium Wars (1839-1842 and 1857-1858).

In his latter years, his son George explained his father’s sea-born skill with a simple statement: “You have to have a ‘sense of the sea and of the sky.’ The Captain could tell a storm was coming three days in advance.”

After standing at the helm of the large three-masted square rigged ships of the high seas since 1821, the Captain – as many old salts – began to yearn for a more tranquil life in the country. In 1852, not quite the Ancient Mariner at 55 years old, the Captain bought a 127-acre farm on Sands Point, Long Island. Initially built by Capt. John Sands in the early 1700s, the house ultimately was expanded to 24 rooms. Nestled on the Atlantic shore, one of the Captain’s first projects was construction of a 90-foot porch fronting the ocean. During the next 20 years, Capt. Tibbits paced the porch, often posting himself behind a 3-foot-long telescope (marked Dolland, London, Day or Night) keeping vigil on his sea. When he moved into the old house, Tibbits brought with him an extensive collection of curios and paintings from his trips to China. He had a library full of sea-related literature and, as additional comfort, scattered around him the compass, chronometer, telescopes and barometer that had helped him navigate the globe for three decades. He also placed in his library a miniature folding writing desk, he used at sea, in addition to a large mahogany settee jettisoned from his quarters in the Southerner. Especially made to accommodate his large frame, the settee measured seven feet. Ship models made for him by crew members surrounded his home, in addition to several examples of exquisite Chinese craftsmanship in silk and ivory gathered during his travels. He also retained several antiques passed down through his family.

In 1872, the Captain died. His son, George, came from San Francisco to be with his mother. The home remained in the family until the spring of 1959 when it was sold. Prior to selling the home, all of Capt. Tibbit’s China Trade and nautical memorabilia were moved to a descendant’s home and large barn in Wading River, New York. There, it has remained for more than 50 years.

When Ron Pook, founder and owner of Pook and Pook Auctioneers and Appraisers come upon the China Trade trove, he was, at the least, stunned. “It was like stumbling onto a big time capsule; material piled up and virtually untouched for 150 years,” he said. “It’s unbelievable. This is the most important China Trade collection in existence. There hasn’t been one like it and, I’ll guarantee you, there won’t be another.” [It includes] the old nautical devices, Chinese art, the porcelain, ivory, sailors’ scrimshaw work, old leather-and-brass-tacked sea trunks (one with the name, Capt. Hall J. Tibbit), ship models, lacquered-veneer furniture – “it’s all there,” Pook said. Included among the items for sale are a portrait of the Captain and a painting of his favorite clipper, Southerner. Despite their age, both look as if they’re ready to sail again.

Information courtesy of Pook & Pook, Inc., January 2014.

Both were from Georgia, and soon began to see their state changing before their eyes as the New South swept away the Old. They quickly became [...] Click here to continue reading.]]> Collection of Florence P. and William W. Griffin

Bill and Florence Griffin met at an Atlanta Bird Club meeting in 1945. Bill was a published amateur ornithologist; Florence was interested in all of nature – she knew the names of all the plants as well as the birds.

Both were from Georgia, and soon began to see their state changing before their eyes as the New South swept away the Old. They quickly became active in incipient Georgia movements advocating nature conservancy as well as historic preservation. They were instrumental in preserving one of Atlanta’s first structures, the 1840′s Tullie Smith house. The relocated house was surrounded with the gardens and furnished with the daily artifacts of its era. In the process, that era was brought to life as the everyday history of those who settled the state. The artifacts brought back the artistry and ingenuity and resourcefulness of a Georgia largely disappeared.

With a scientific discipline like that of ornithology, Bill and Florence sought out and collected the furniture, silver, tools, pottery, prints, and papers of this vanished Georgia. They traveled the state tirelessly, and enjoyed becoming friends with farmers, potters, dealers, and pickers, looking for the often-neglected artifacts of early Georgia and the South. Of special interest to them both was the work of the early naturalists, such as John Abbott and Mark Catesby. Everything was carefully cataloged; the effort was to understand and preserve. They shared their finds with wonderful friends in a growing community of enthusiasts. In 1984, an exhibition was mounted at the Atlanta Historical Society called Neat Pieces: the Plain-Style Furniture of Nineteenth Century Georgia, celebrating the material culture and social history of the period. The title of the exhibit came from a phrase in an 1838-9 Georgia journal owned by Fannie Kimball, “these are very neat pieces of workmanship,” neat defined by a period dictionary as “trim, tidy, free from tawdry appendages.”

Their scholarship led to articles for The Magazine Antiques and election to Friends of Winterthur, but for Bill and Florence the reward for their work was to live with the objects and know the stories they held. There is often in these objects a sense of integrity, economy, and proportion that carries across time from those that made and used them. Bill and Florence have helped us preserve their era and their values.

As Bill wrote, “These pieces are documents. They can convey to us non-verbal impressions of the past, which we can utilize now, or in the future.”

-William Griffin, Jr., April 2009

(Son of Bill and Florence Griffin)

courtesy of Brunk Auctions, May 2009

An ancient [...] Click here to continue reading.]]> The Sarcophagus in Decorative Arts

Derived from the Greek sarx, meaning flesh, and phagein, meaning eat, a sarcophagus is, essentially, a container for a body, much like a coffin or casket. Historically, sarcophagi were typically made of stone (though sometimes of other materials, such as wood or metal), with a relief-carved or pediment top, and designed to be above ground, and have been used by many cultures since ancient times.

An ancient Egyptian miniature bronze sarcophagus

(p4A item # D9789825)

In the early modern era, the sarcophagus shape began infiltrating the decorative arts, appearing as a design element in pieces of furniture, or contributing its entire form to smaller objects. The most common places to find the sarcophagus shape are on the pediments of sophisticated case furniture, most notably clocks, and in tea caddies, which from the late eighteenth through the end of the nineteenth century, often drew their inspiration from sarcophagi, even if stylized.

Boston Queen Anne tall case clock with a pediment in the shape of a sarcophagus

(p4A item # E8909171)

Victorian tea made of sharkskin (called shagreen) and in the form of a sarcophagus

(p4A item # D9814453)

It is difficult to generalize about the shape that a sarcophagus takes when it is integrated into decorative arts objects. The variety of sarcophagi-inspired objects is as diverse as the ancient sarcophagi themselves. From subtle appearances, such as on the bases of this pair of French bronze girandoles…

A pair of French Renaissance Revival bronze girandoles
(p4A item # D9668672)

and lid of this American Victorian sewing table…

Victorian Rococo Revival rosewood sewing stand by Mitchell and Rammelsburg
(p4A item # D9837246)

to overt adaptations, such as this English cellarette…

An English Regency mahogany cellarette

(p4A item # E8929234)

and tea caddy…

English Regency mahogany tea caddy with ebonized handles

(p4A item # D9661450)

even to objects seemingly modeled after real sarcophagi, such as this Continental bronze inkstand.

Late 19th-century Continental bronze inkwell

(p4A item # E8948126)