The Romantic Strings, the Children Edition

 

Parents recognize that face.
That wonderful moment when a child
discovers that their talent is its own reward.  

Their enthusiasm builds on itself.
An amusement becomes an obsession
as each new skill inspires
a determination to learn more.  

It starts in that innocent time of childhood
when everything is a wonder.

And as parents and grandparents know
it begins with questions.
Many, many questions
about the world,
about how things work,

and about the infinite possibilities of life.

Today I present four examples 
of antique picture postcards
that have a romantic musical theme
of string instruments
and children.
 

My first postcard is a drawing in sepia tone of a youth in his nightshirt sitting on the edge of his bed and playing a violin. His expression is one of bright fixation on his music making. In the background is a woman, perhaps his mother, watching with clasped hands. Scattered on the floor are some pages of music. A picture of an organist at a keyboard, perhaps Johann Sebastian Bach, hands on the boy's bedroom wall.    

The title of the picture is Genesung~Recovery. The artist is identified in the lower right corner, both in the etching and printed on the sidebar, as Toby E. Rosenthal. His full name was Tobias Edward Rosenthal (1848–1917), a German artist born in Strasburg in Westpreußen, a place once part of Prussia which later became part of Germany. It is now called Brodnica and is a town in northern Poland. At a young age Rosenthal's parents emigrated to America, settling in San Francisco where Rosenthal received his first art training from a French-born sculptor and an expatriate Mexican artist.  

Rosenthal's postcard of a young violinist abed has a brief greeting on the back but was never posted. The publisher was Hermann A. Wiechmann of München~Munich, Germany. The style of the printing suggestions a date of 1915-1925.

Rosenthal's tutors in California recognized his natural talent for drawing and recommended to his parents that he travel back to Germany for further art study. In 1865 he enrolled in Munich's Academy of Fine Arts. By age 22 he won a prize medal for an imaginative painting of Bach's family at morning prayers. It was considered worthy enough to be acquired by the State Museum in Leipzig. 

Morning prayers in the Bach family
by Toby Edward Rosenthal, 1870
Source: Wikimedia

I found two versions of this painting on the internet. Above is an image from Wikimedia which I presume is Rosenthal's original painting in color. It shows the great composer Johann Sebastian Bach (1685–1750) at home seated at a harpsichord with his lively family gathered around. Johann was married twice, first to Maria Barbara Bach (1684–1720) with whom he had seven children including three who died in infancy, and then Anna Magdalena Bach, née Wilcke (1701–1760) who gave him thirteen children including seven who died before reaching adulthood. 

There are eleven figures in the scene which includes a baby's cradle. I count six who are clearly not adults. According to the Wikipedia entry for Anna Magdalena Bach, "Only during the ten weeks from June to August 1732 were five of the couple’s children younger than 10 years of age living in the household."  It seems very likely that Rosenthal is depicting this Bach family of 1732.

Morning prayers in the Bach family
by Toby Edward Rosenthal, 1870
Source: Wikimedia

The second version of Rosenthal's painting is an engraving(?) made for an American book published in 1914. The engraver has reproduced Rosenthal's work very accurately, preserving all the animation of the original family scene. But their faces have more fine detail and I think the sepia tone picture is much more convincing as a work of art. 

Though he made a few return visits to America, Rosenthal made his career in Munich, Germany producing many paintings inspired by great writers of his time. His style followed the German Romantic movement which depicted historic events and nostalgic folk characters. 

This next drawing by Rosenthal was made in 1907. It is similar to the young violinist because this sketch shows another youth enthralled by his craft. Here an older boy concentrates on carving a small wooden figurine of Christ's Crucifixion. It's a sculpting skill which Rosenthal as an artist was likely very familiar with. 

Study of a Boy Carving a Crucifix
drawing by Toby E. Rosenthal, 1907
Source: Wikimedia 

* * *

My next postcard is a portrait of another young violinist engrossed in the sound of his instrument. This boy has wavy red hair not unlike the color of his violin and wears a blue-green jacket with a wide white collar. It's a thoughtful pose that invites us to admire the boy's focus on his music.  

This artist's name is signed in the lower right corner and printed on the back. He is Albert Louis Aublet (1851–1938) a French painter born in Paris. Aublet's first Paris exhibition was in 1873. He traveled to the Middle East in the 1880s where his experience in Istanbul inspired him to develop an "Orientalist" style by painting exotic subjects and themes. He also produced a number of genre paintings and female nudes.     

This postcard was sent from Bern, Switzerland on 9 May 1918. The painting's title is printed on the back: le jeune vilon~The young violinist. It was printed in Paris.

Bathing Time at Le Tréport
painting by Albert Aublet, 1885
Source: Wikimedia

Wikimedia offered a several examples of Albert Aublet's work. This summer scene shows a crowd enjoying a stony beach at Le Tréport, a port town in Normandy, France. The swirl of women's umbrellas adds more movement than we would see on a modern beach.

French artist, Albert Aublet (1851–1938)
in his studio, photograph, date unknown
Source: Wikimedia

Another image from Wikimedia is a photo of Albert Aublet working at his studio in Paris. The date is unknown but judging from his appearance it likely late 1890s or 1900s. Notice that the painting Aublet has on his easel is a portrait of three young girls, likely three sisters. Remember to click any image to enlarge it. 

* * *

 

This next postcard shows a lovely father/daughter moment when a cellist plays for his little girl. She wears a golden gown and pulls her dress out as she marvels at this grown-up costume. Music is scattered on the floor by the man's chair. His concentration is, of course, focused not on his cello but on his child. 

The title of this painting is Chaconne, a Spanish dance form from the Baroque era involving variations over a repeated bass line. The artist's name, written in the lower corner of the painting and printed on the sidebar, is John Quincy Adams. 

Despite his American-sounding name, John Quincy Adams (1873–1933) was actually Austrian. He was the son of American tenor Charles Runey Adams (1834-1900) and Hungarian singer Nina Bleyer (1835-1899) who both sang in the company of the the Vienna Court Opera. Their son was named after the 6th President of the United States, John Quincy Adams (1767–1848), but there was no direct family connection. In 1879 the family moved back to Boston but when his parents separated in 1887 Adams returned to Vienna with his mother. He studied art at the Wien Academy of Fine Arts from 1892-1896, followed by a year of artistic training at the Munich Academy and another year in Paris at the Académie Julian.

This postcard was never used but I present the back for its beautiful floral border. The publisher was B.K.W.I. or Brüder Kohn Wien I, one of the most successful postcard companies in Vienna and Europe. This is the same publisher that produced the postcards of my favorite artist Fritz Schönpflug (1873 – 1951). Since he and Adams were contemporaries I expect they must have known each other. 

Kitty Baronin Rothschild
painting by John Quincy Adams, 1916
Source: Wikimedia

According to a biography of Adams, he produced around 500 paintings in a large variety of genres with different subjects and styles. Nonetheless his main work earned Adams a cliché as "painter of the beautiful, elegant Viennese lady". One example is this portrait of Kitty Rothschild (1885–1946), an American socialite who was considered by noted Parisian dress designers as one of the world's ten best-dressed women. Born in Philadelphia, as a young woman she studied music in Munich, where she met and then eloped with Dandridge Spotswood, a industrial and mining engineer from New York with a Virginian ancestry. For a time the young couple resided in New York but the marriage did not last and they divorced.

In 1911 Kitty married an Austrian nobleman, Count Erwin Schoenborn, from an ancient noble family of the Holy Roman Empire. This painting was made in 1916 when they were still together as in 1924 they divorced. I don't know who got the dog. That same year Kitty married Baron Eugène Daniel von Rothschild (1884–1976), a member of the notable Rothschild family. The Rothschild's made their home in Paris and became prominent in continental European society until the start of World War Two. 

 

Kaiser Franz Joseph I
painting by John Quincy Adams, 1914
Source: Wikimedia

It is this portrait of Austria's Kaiser Franz Joseph I by John Quincy Adams that I find most interesting. It was completed in 1914 when Franz Joseph was 84 and shows a man bowed down by the weight of 66 years as monarch. What I don't know is if this portrait was finished before or after 28 June 1914 when his nephew and heir to the throne, Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated in Sarajevo by Serbian terrorists. This terrible murder of the Archduke and his wife, Sophie, Duchess of Hohenberg, triggered the start of World War One. Franz Joseph would die two years later on 21 November 1916. 

* * *

My last picture postcard is another drawing that shows a small boy crouched behind an elderly cello player, presumably the boy's grandfather, who sits on a rustic stool. He grins with delight as he watches the bow race over the instrument's strings. Grandfather is bearded, barefoot, and dressed in shabby clothing. He smokes a long pipe as he looks directly at us. A violin hangs on the wall. He resembles characters in antique illustrations of Gypsy fiddlers that I have featured on another post, A Fiddler on the Street. 

There is a long message on the front around the drawing (more about that in a minute) and on the back is Kaiser Franz Joseph's picture in profile on a green 5 heller postage stamp. The stamp dates from 1908 in celebration of the Kaiser's 60th year as king and emperor. It was sent from Zadar, a city in Croatia on the Adriatic Sea, to an Oberleutnant~First Lieutenant Peteani in Dalmatia. The postmark date is illegible, but 1908-1910 seems reasonable.   

The artist of this little drawing signed his name in the lower corner: Valentini, 1882 but there is no other identification. After a hunt, I believe this was Valentino Valentini, (1858–?) an Italian artist who was born in Florence, Italy. Nothing much about his life is recorded on the internet but I did succeed in finding enough examples of his work to show that he understood musicians and musical instruments. 

Monk Musician
painting by Valentino Valentini, 1882
Source: MutualArt.com 

This painting by Valentini recently sold at auction. It shows a bearded monk playing a double bass. The monk stands in front of a heavy wooden music stand suitable for two players or even four. Scattered on the floor are more pages of music which seems to be a popular cliché to use when depicting earnest musicians. This painting is dated 1882 like the drawing so maybe the bearded man modeled for the cellist too.  

The Accordion Player
painting by Valentino Valentini
Source: MutualArt.com

This painting by Valentino Valentini shows a humble accordion player scanning the room or street in order to catch the eye of someone who will drop a few coins at his feet. It's a nice portrait of a folk musician as typical of Italy today as it was in the 19th century.   

* * *

Today in the 21st century we look at countless photographs and videos of people doing all sorts of things while expressing every kind of emotion. They are now so common that we forget how incredibly difficult it once was to capture a special moment on film. Just as they do today, people in the past smiled, laughed, cried, and hollered. But early photographers had to be very skilled, and lucky, too, to record those fleeting memories on film. 

Artists, on the other hand, have always relied on just a good eye and a deft hand to draw those human moments. With a good imagination and a familiar understanding of facial features, an artist can recreate an experience like love, joy, sadness, or anger that is instantly understood by any person, regardless of their language or point in time. It's that mastery of art which I think enhances our appreciation of this era when a picture postcard of a musician was more than just a pretty image. Sure, they were sentimental and designed to charm, but they also validate how prevalent it once was to have the wonder of music in people's lives. 

  Coda  

The German handwriting on this last postcard's message was made with a fountain pen and was consistent enough for me to recognize most of the letters if not the full words. For an experiment I removed the picture, increased the contrast, and rearranged the second part of the message into just a clear image of the script. I then uploaded it to three different AI services: ChatGpt, Perplexity, and Claude, giving each the same instruction: "Transcribe this handwritten German message from a 1910 Austrian postcard and translate it into English."

All three came up with pretty good equivalents for the German handwriting catching most umlauts, often written as just a dash over a vowel instead of '', and noting the funny German character ß for ss. Of the three, Claude was the most accurate. It produced this transcription:

Original: 

                    Lieber Harry! Nachdem mein Gagenzettel größer ausgefallen 

                als ich gedacht habe und etwas so noch hatte, habe ich mich
                entschlossen nach Hause zu fahren. Fahre am 3/9 um 8h früh weg.
                Werde niemandem sagen, dass du kommst, auch ich 
                werde momentan erscheinen. Almuier (?) wird 
                wahrscheinlich mit dir hinauffahren. Habe mich bezüglich deines
                Urlaubs erkundigt, da wurde mir gesagt vom...

                * 1–4 habt ihr Trainübungen und dann 
                    kannst du fahren, wenn es dir unten vom Kader 
                    bewilligt wird. Auf Wiedersehen recht 
                    bald. Mit Gruß und Kuss Karl.

Translation:

                         Dear Harry! Since my pay slip turned out larger 

                    than I had expected and I still had something left over, I have 

                    decided to travel home. I am leaving on the 3rd of September
                                at 8 o'clock in the morning. 

                    I will not tell anyone that you are coming, and I myself
                    will appear for the time being. Almuier (?) will probably travel up 
                    with you. I inquired regarding your vacation, and I was told by...

                    * From the 1st to the 4th you have training exercises, and then 

                        you can travel if it is approved for you 

                        down at headquarters. See you again quite soon. 

                        With greetings and a kiss, Karl.

All three AI websites offer a free service and were very quick, producing a neat transcription and translation in 15-25 seconds. The key for using this tool is to prepare the image carefully so that there is nothing except the script for the AI engine to analyze. I'm very impressed that it correctly found letters that I would not have guessed because it recognized the context and the typical syntax of a message written in German. I'm eager to try it with other languages.  

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where feather bolsters are on sale all weekend.

The Hospital Band of Clarinda, Iowa

It's a serious bunch,
almost solemn,
with a direct gaze
most conductors
would like to see
in a band.

 

Yet their sober faces
seem a bit humorless
as if they might be easily offended.

And some stare with inky coal-black eyes.
It's a cheerless grave expression

which must have chilled the photographer
who looked at them through the camera lens.

Today I feature a group portrait of musicians in
the Hospital Band of Clarinda, Iowa.

But it was no ordinary medical facility.

It's a large band of nearly two dozen men, mostly brass players with four clarinetists, a flutist doubling on piccolo, and two drummers. They wear neat suits with formal wingtip collar shirts, a gentleman's style from the late 19th or early 20th century.    

Seated on the left is a horn player with a piston valve horn, an instrument once commonly used in France and Britain. In this era German horns with rotary valves were more prevalent in the United States. Next to him is a man with a similar instrument called a mellophone, but it is actually very different since it is played with the right hand and uncoiled it would be less than half the length of the other horn. Standing in the back row are four different types of tuba including a double-bell euphonium, a novelty instrument usually   given to a talented soloist. 

Closer inspection of their attire shows a light-color stripe on their trousers and decorative trim on their coat cuffs not unlike a uniform, but more like a military rather than a civilian bandsman's garb. A few men have badges on their coat collars with the initials — I. H. I.  and one man, seated center, has a pair of 5-pointed stars, too. He also has a cornet and a baton, so he must be the band director. 

The initials, I. H. I., stood for Iowa Hospital for Insane. 

These bandsmen were employed at this institution,
once known as the Clarinda Lunatic Asylum.

Hospital for Insane,
Clarinda, Iowa.
will send a letter soon.  Sarah E.

This photo postcard was sent on 9 August 1907 to Miss Lulu Q. Noute of Denver, Colorado. The image shows a sprawling institution set behind a huge grassy field interspersed with a few ornamental trees. The building is made of brick with a succession of three-story wings around a taller central building that features a clock tower. 

Clarinda is a small town and the county seat of Page County, Iowa, situated in the southwest corner of the state near the border of Missouri. In 1884 Iowa's two state asylums in Independence and Mt. Pleasant were deemed insufficient to care for the growing number of Iowans who suffered from mental health problems. A state commission selected Clarinda, whose population was then around 2,000, as the site for a third hospital in the western part of the state.

The commission chose architects from Des Moines to design the Clarinda facility based on ideals promoted by Dr. Thomas Story Kirkbride (1809 – 1883), a physician, alienist (an old term for a psychiatrist), and hospital superintendent for the Institute of the Pennsylvania Hospital. Kirkbride is remembered as one of the fathers of modern American psychiatry.

In 1840, Kirkbride was appointed the first superintendent of the Pennsylvania Hospital for the Insane located in South Philadelphia. Over the next few decades in Philadelphia, Kirkbride also helped found the Association of Medical Superintendents of American Institutions for the Insane (AMSAII), holding several officer positions in the organization including secretary and president. Through his experience caring for people suffering from severe mental disorders and his background as a Quaker, Dr. Kirkbride rejected the old system of imprisoning people afflicted with psychiatric issues in isolated prisons and poorhouses. Instead he worked at developing new methods that would improve medical treatment and care for the insane.  

Kirkbride envisioned new asylum hospitals that focused on healing the mentally ill by creating places that offered activities to patients, seclusion from suspected causes of illness, and access to medical therapy. His intention was to seek cures for mental disorders that would benefit patients' lives. He advocated for larger institutions which would have abundant exposure to natural light and air circulation, separate wings for men and women, divided floors according to level of mental condition, and access to outdoor activities like gardening and farming. 

His progressive ideas were adopted in the 19th century by many asylums built in America, following institutional building designs that became known as the Kirkbride Plan. Most would have different architectural details but still use a master plan conforming to the Kirkbride "bat wing" scheme which arranged numerous wings attached to a center administration building. The first asylum built to the Kirkbride Plan was the Trenton State Hospital in Trenton, New Jersey, constructed in 1848.

1848 lithograph of the Kirkbride design
of Trenton State Hospital in Trenton, New Jersey
Source: Wikipedia

Most of the construction of the Clarinda Hospital for the Insane was completed in 1886 when it first began accepting patients and transfers from Iowa's other two overcrowded asylums. The causes and treatments for mental illnesses, like most diseases and disorders, was still poorly understood by medical science in this time. Doctors at insane asylums like the Clarinda Hospital also treated alcoholics, drug addicts, people with genetic conditions or geriatric dementia, and people with physical disabilities, as well as the mentally ill, and criminally insane. 

Clarinda IA State Hospital for the Insane
Source: Library of Congress
[click to enlarge]

As was the custom of the time, the physicians and staff of Clarinda Hospital lived on the grounds of the asylum. In the 1900 U. S. census for Page County, Iowa, there were 23 pages devoted to the people employed, committed, and living on the 513 acre site. Roughly 150 people were on staff at the hospital. Five were physicians, which included the superintendent, and there were 62 nurses, both male and female. The rest were housekeepers, cooks, laundresses, seamstresses, gardeners, engineers, and farm laborers. The remaining 17 pages of the 1900 census for the Clarinda hospital records 856 names without occupations or comments.

Newspapers in Iowa regularly reported on state institutions like prisons, schools, and hospitals, covering annual expenditures and accounts from superintendents. Often the papers printed dense articles written by special correspondents who had visited a hospital. In December 1895 one writer toured  the Clarinda Hospital for Insane.  One paragraph described the variety of activities and amusements at the hospital, including the hospital band.  

Sioux City IA Journal
16 December 1895

Plenty of Amusement. 

    Amusement is an important feature of hospital life and every effort is made to relieve the tedium of long winter days and evenings by divers entertainments.  The beautiful amusement hall, which Is fitted with a stage and properties, serves as a great pleasure to the patients.  The hospital band, which has a well earned reputation in that section of the state, is an Important factor in the entertainments, and plays for the dances which are given in the large hall every Saturday night.  In the summer open air concerts are given on the lawn three times a week, and the men play ball and engage in numerous other athletic sports on pleasant days.  The women are regularly trained in calisthenics and the men are drilled in military deportment, which seems to have an excellent affect.  The patients are given regular medical treatment and each one Is considered individually.  His physical and mental requirements receive skillful and studious attention, and no means are spared to relieve the suffering of the unfortunate people.  Religious services are conducted regularly by Rev. D. 0. Stuart, the hospital chaplain.  The management holds that under the present methods of caring for the insane it is not enough that medical treatment, trained nurses, and amusements are furnished for patients, but it is also necessary to provide employment for the idle hands and brains in equal abundance. 

In the previous year, 1894, a new superintendent, Dr. Franck C. Hoyt, was appointed to the Clarinda asylum. Dr. Hoyt was a part of a national movement of young physicians who were changing the way hospitals managed the care and treatment of mental disorders. The hospital band was one of his innovations, as was a standard uniform for the hospital's physicians, orderlies, and nurses. It was reported to be made of blue cloth and gold trim.  

According to another report published in April 1897 in the Sioux City Journal:

"Dr. Hoyt is himself a lover of music and has a musical family, and under his patronage a hospital band has grown up which is one of the best organizations in the west.  The members of the band are hospital employees, and they give concerts two or three times a week in the auditorium or general assembly room to the patients, by whom the music is much enjoyed.  The evening spent by the Union County party at the hospital was a concert evening, not only at the hospital, but at St. Joe, Kansas City, and Omaha, whence the music was conducted by long distance telephone. Some idea of the excellence of the hospital band may be gained from the fact that such numbers were rendered as Verdi's "Macbeth," "Il Trovatore" and passages from Wagner and from other authors of equal merit."

I believe that my photo of the Clarinda Hospital Band was taken around this time, 1895–1897, and possibly on the stage of the hospital's auditorium. 

Council Bluffs, IA Nonpareil
4 March 1898

In March 1898 Dr. Hoyt reported that in the previous month the Clarinda Hospital for Insane had admitted 17 new patients; discharged 12 as either recovered, improved, or died; leaving 684 people in care, 413 male and 271 female.   

Later that year Dr. Hoyt left Clarinda to take up the superintendent position of the State Lunatic Asylum in  Mount Pleasant. Iowa. 

    

The Clarinda hospital band continued for at least a year after Dr. Hoyt's departure. In November 1899 the band was one of a dozen bands participating in a welcome home parade in Council Bluffs for U. S. Army troops who were returning from the Philippines after service in the Spanish–American War. But beyond that year the band did not merit any more attention in newspapers, so I presume it faded into memory.

On 21 May 1901 Dr. Frank C. Hoyt died in Kansas City, Missouri while on leave from his position at the Mt. Pleasant Hospital for the Insane. He was not yet 40. The cause of death was tuberculosis complicated by a rheumatic heart, an unfortunate occupational risk for a hospital physician. 

Clarinda Treatment Complex, August 2025
Source: Wikipedia

In 1902 there were almost 1,100 "inmates" at the Clarinda hospital for insane, just a couple dozen more than the patient populations at the other Iowa state asylums in Independence and Mt. Pleasant. Over the next century the facility gradually reduced its patient numbers as medical treatments for mental health changed and improved. More recently it was known as the Clarinda Treatment Complex and in 2015 it was closed. The buildings and grounds are still maintained but no other development for the site is planned.  Below is a Google Street View which gives a better perspective of this historic example of Dr. Kirkbride's ideal hospital.  

* * *

* * *

Clarinda is not a very big place, its population was roughly 3,300 in 1890 and only 5,350 in 2020. The surrounding terrain is very flat and the seasons can be pretty harsh with summer temperatures above 100° and winter often in negative double numbers. 

A hospital band of doctors and nurses seems unusual for our time but not for the men in the photo. Once upon a time music could only be enjoyed in a live experience of musical performance. For all that medical science did not know about mental health in the late 19th century, they did understand the calming and healing power of music. That special capacity of harmonious sound, either in vocal or instrumental music, to relieve physical stress, emotional discomfort, or restore memory is now recognized as a proper accredited medical discipline called music therapy. I think that the serious expressions on these bandsmen conceals a pride that they were making music for their patients to enjoy. For a short time, however brief, a brass band could soothe a troubled mind. That's the story concealed in this photo.  

For reasons I can only explain as coincidental, I have written several stories for my blog about photos of bands or orchestras from Iowa intuitions. The first was the The Fort Madison Prison Orchestra; then A Birdseye View of a Girls Orchestra about the Iowa State Industrial School in Mitchellville; Don't This Dazzle Your Eyes! is about the girls' band at the Iowa State Normal School in Cedar Falls; and there are two from Mason City: The Orphans Home Band and the Iowa I.O.O.F. Orphans Home Orchestra. Iowa seems to have a strong musical heritage and lots of clever photographers to record it. 

So I shouldn't have been surprised at the following strange serendipitous report I found this week in my research on the Clarinda Hospital Band. But I was just a little spooked.

Council Bluffs, IA Nonpareil
29 August 1966

60-Year-Old Clarinda Band Photo Turns Up 

A photograph of the Clarinda Hospital band, believed at least 60 years old, has been found in Missouri.  Mrs. Ona Gideon of rural Jasper, Mo., has asked B. N. Bench, Clarinda postmaster, to help her find some area family interested in having it.  The old picture shows 23 men, 10 of them with mustaches.  Mrs. Gideon said she found the 10 by 17-inch photo in an old frame, behind another picture. 

My photograph is mounted on
heavy maroon-color cardstock with gold edges.
There are 23 men in the photo. Ten have mustaches.   

Is it the same photo?

Who knows?

Only they could tell us,
and they're not talking.  

{After printing the photograph, the photographer discovered that
the eye pupils of several men were bleached out.
So he carefully dabbed a dot of black ink into their eyes.
This is my effort at an improvement.
I guess I went a bit crazy.} 

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where it is strongly advised
to always keep a-hold of Nurse

for fear of finding something worse.

The Orchestra of H.M.S. Royal Arthur

 

I don't know his name
but I do know where he was sitting.
He is poised on the deck of a warship
in Great Britain's Royal Navy,
the H.M.S. Royal Arthur.

His affable face was easy to spot
when he turned up in several photos
taken onboard this ship.

Here he is again
with two of his shipmates,
all dressed as seamen
of the Royal Navy.

But what set him apart
from an ordinary sailor
is that he played a violin
in the ship's orchestra.
That's generally not
a standard rating in any navy. 
 

Today I present a small collection
of photo postcards
taken at a time when
Britannia ruled the waves. 

The H.M.S. Royal Arthur was a first class protected cruiser built at the Portsmouth Dockyard in south England and launched on 26 February 1891. It was 387.5 ft (118.1 m) long with a beam of 60.75 ft (18.52 m) and it displaced 7,700 tons. It was the fourth of nine ships built to the same Edgar-class design for a "protected cruiser", so-called because of an internal protective deck that shielded the magazines and machinery spaces within the ship's structure with a layer of 5 in (130 mm) thick steel armor. 

British Edgar class protected cruiser.
Brassey's Naval Annual, 1897. Plate 13.
Source: Wikipedia

The main armament for the Royal Arthur consisted of one 9.2-inch gun mounted aft and twelve 6-inch guns, with one pair replacing another 9.2-inch gun usually mounted at the bow in other ships of this class. The ship was also armed with a dozen smaller guns and four 18-inch torpedo tubes. Power for its twin propellers came from steam expansion engines fueled by coal and producing 12,000 ihp. And for extra insurance there were two masts for rigging sails. 

Engines of the First-Class Protected Cruisers
Theseus and Royal Arthur
Source: The Engineer, 23 March 1894

A cruiser ship in the Edgar class typically carried a complement of 544 officers and seamen. After being fitted out and passing its sea trials, in 1893 the Royal Arthur was first assigned to the Pacific Station in the British fleet which then operated on the eastern side of Pacific Ocean. In this era a voyage to the west coast of South America might take anywhere between 4 to 6 weeks depending on weather. 

My trio of sailors stand on an upper deck of the ship in front of a cowl ventilator which channeled air to the lower decks. Their dark blue uniforms and caps are a classic style that distinguishes sailors of the Royal Navy. The navy's tradition of putting a ship's name on its sailors' caps makes it much easier to identify them compared to soldiers in army uniforms. They have the look of three comrades pleased to pose for a photo that they could send home to their families.  

HMS Royal Arthur, stern view
Source: Wikimedia

In 1897 the Royal Arthur transferred to the Australian Station where it served as a flagship for that fleet from 1897 to 1904. Steamships of this era might make an Atlantic crossing from England to America in about 7 to 10 days. But a voyage to Australia covered a distance of roughly 24,000 km or 15,000 miles and took between 40 to 70 days depending on whether the route went via the Cape of Good Hope at the bottom of Africa or took a manmade shortcut through the Suez Canal. 

What first caught my attention was finding this postcard of a small orchestra of sailors who posed in front of an outdoor stage backdrop. There are 13 musicians with eight violins, cello, clarinet, trombone, and two drums, and all wear caps branded with the badge of HMS ROYAL ARTHUR. The sailor who I've focused on stands second from right in the backrow. Historically the Royal Navy has always used bands of the Royal Marines, but these men are clearly in navy uniforms and, with the exception of the clarinetist, trombonist, and drummers, they are not bandsmen. 

Sydney NSW Morning Herald
16 February 1901

It was during its time in Australia that the HMS Royal Arthur received the most attention in newspaper reports. As flagship of a fleet the Royal Arthur was the resident vessel of the fleet's commanding officer, a vice admiral, who had numerous social and diplomatic duties while the ship was in port. Having a small orchestra onboard offered a useful cultural asset to promote the navy when in port as well as provide a diversion to officers and crew during long voyages. In February 1901 a Sydney newspaper carried a short report of an entertainment at the Seamen's Institute performed by singers, instrumentalists, and orchestra from H.M.S. Royal Arthur. "A selection of patriotic, descriptive, and humorous songs and recitations was rendered by Messrs. Smeaton, Baker, Judge, Parnell, Heald, and Thompson Mr. Cornfoot (violin), Mr. J. Doust and Mr. Howe (mandolin duet), with the orchestra, viz., Miss Evans, Messrs. Collins, Cornfoot, Doust, and Prangley, provided the instrumental items.  The 251 seamen present appreciated the entertainment, and responded heartily to the call for three cheers, made by the chaplain, Rev. T. H. Distan Morgan."

A month earlier the sailors put on a minstrel show at the Temperance Hall in Hobart, Tasmania. A review of this event reported that "the most interesting feature of the evening was the sword bayonet display by the Royal Marine Artillery, the wrist play and movements of the six performers engaged being exceptionally clean and active.  The cutlass display by the blue-jackets was also creditable, and the performance concluded with a farce entitled "Touched".

In February 1902 the Royal Arthur was in Adelaide, South Australia where a group of its sailors gave a concert at the Institute Hall. A short review gave tactful praise: "The String Band Orchestra delighted the audience by the way in which it rendered the selections and accompaniments." Even wrong notes and gimpy rhythms can be entertaining. 

Admiral Pearson's flagship H.M.S. Royal Arthur, 1898
Source: University of Melbourne Archives

The HMS Royal Arthur returned to Britain via the Mediterranean in May 1904 for another refitment at Portsmouth's Dockyards. In 1905 was assigned to the North America and West Indies Station for a short service before returning to England in 1906.

In this photo the Royal Arthur's string ensemble is a bit larger with 16 musicians posed onboard the ship. Seated on the deck in the center is my guy holding a round life saver with the name HMS ROYAL ARTHUR stenciled on it. Seated right behind him is an officer, perhaps the ship's captain. Standing  in the back row, far right, is an older man with a violin who wears a different uniform and cap. He was also in the previous photo. I'm not certain, but he may be dressed in a marine uniform. It's possible he is the leader of this little orchestra. 

In 1906 the Royal Navy added a new battleship to its fleet, the H.M.S. Dreadnought. This huge ship started a revolution in naval power with its size, increased armor, and firepower. It was 527 ft (160.6 m) in length and 82 ft (25 m) across the beam. There was thick steel armor along the belt of the hull, on the decks, around the guns, and between the bulkheads. It was also powered by new steam turbine engines which made it very fast for its size.  But it was its powerful armament which made it a new threat to battleships of other navies. The Dreadnought carried 5 x twin 12-in guns, 27 × single 12-pdr guns, and 5 × 18-in torpedo tubes. Its heavy-caliber guns were capable of a very long fire, a range much longer than other battleships of the time. Soon all the first-order nations began building bigger battleship fleets with more big guns. It was an expensive and jingoistic rivalry that started a naval armament race which in a few years would set up political conditions that led to the First World War. 

This musical group from the Royal Arthur is reduced to 9 musicians with all strings except a clarinetist and a keyboardist on the right. That man sit by a small harmonium that uses foot pedals to inflate its organ bellows. Seated center is an older gentleman not dressed as a sailor but instead a black suit coat with clerical collar. I believe he is the ship's chaplain and that this ensemble was performing a worship service on the ship's deck. Could he be the Rev. T. H. Distan Morgan mentioned in the Sydney Morning Herald?

The photographer must have thought the sailors' caps were too much for the occasion and took this second photo with their hats off. Even the padre has removed his hat. For me it's a rare treat to get a variation on a group photo. 

After returning to Britain, the HMS Royal Arthur was placed in reserve for three years. By 1909 advances in naval design had made cruisers of this type practically obsolete so it was reassigned to the Home Fleet just for training purposes. I don't believe it was ever used again as a flagship, so it seems unlikely that the Royal Arthur orchestra continued after 1906.  

All the postcards were never posted and only one has an imprint: W. Charles. 29 Rhodes St., Holloway, London which might be the name of a photographer or a collector. So it is difficult to date or place a location on my little collection of the Royal Arthur's orchestra. The postcards do have a divided back for message and address, so that means the photo paper is later than 1902 when Britain first allowed postcards to have messages. But beyond that, time and place are just a guess. I think they likely were taken around 1903 to 1904 when the ship was stationed in Australia. 

On board H.M.S. Royal Arthur, 1898
Source: University of Melbourne Archives

This photo of the Royal Arthur's aft 9 inch gun with a seaman and officer standing on deck came from the archives of the University of Melbourne. It and the previous photo of ship at anchor came from a private album of photographs taken in 1898. I like how it gives a better perspective of how compact this warship was when every element had to serve several functions to keep the ship safe and still maintain its military purpose. 

My last postcard of from the HMS Royal Arthur is a grainy photo of twenty men posed formally on a small stage. Several men are dressed as clowns. One man in the back row is showing off his muscular arms. A string band of mandolins, violin, and guitar wear young boys' school uniforms and caps. Behind them is a painted backdrop of a fantasy courtyard with a sign at the top: North Sea College.  Seated second right of center is the officer seen in the photo with the life ring. And seated left of center is the same chaplain seen in the other photos. It's obviously a variety show troupe, most dressed in silly costume for an entertainment. On either side is a navy seaman and a Royal marine standing at attention with rifles fixed with bayonets. It's the only photo where I can't spot the sailor who appears in all the other photos. 

During its time of service the HMS Royal Arthur never participated in any great naval battle but it is an example of how Britain's Royal Navy embraced a formidable sea power to defend the British Empire. That empire, and several others too, would be challenged in 1914 with the start of World War One. 

During the war the Royal Arthur served as a guardship at Scapa Flow and later as a submarine depot ship. It was decommissioned after the war and sold for scrap in August 1921.

The era of HMS Royal Arthur bridges a time between a modern navy powered by steam engines and an older tradition of warships under sail. Close quarter action between ships was still considered possible so sailors trained with hand weapons. Here is a postcard captioned: Life in the Navy, Cutlass Drill showing two long lines of Royal Navy sailors practicing their swordsmanship. The ship is not identified but the postcard was printed in Great Britain, probably around 1902-03.   

A life at sea required diligent work for every seaman in the Queen's/King's Navy. Their ship was their home and it protected them only so long as they obeyed orders and followed countless rules and regulations. I believe most men inevitably formed strong bonds of comradery through their navy service. But it's fascinating to think that some sailors got to enjoy another level of friendship through making music. I would have loved to see one of their shows.    

Now I will close with a rendition of
"When I Was a Lad" a song from HMS PINAFORE,
an operetta composed by Arthur Sullivan
from a libretto by W. S. Gilbert.
 This is a 2017 preview from the Stratford Festival.

I bet the orchestra from HMS Royal Arthur
did a passable version of this song.

This is my contribution to Sepia Saturday

where saucy sailors sing only on high Cs.