Description
Dress up as Neptune and Amphitrite on a Victorian Antarctic whale-ship. At noon on 25th October 1892 the Balaena from Dundee crossed the equator, and her crew began a full-costume classical masquerade.
“At twelve o’clock Neptune climbed over our bows and stood on the focsle-head, just as if he had come up from the bottom of the sea. He was followed by her Majesty; as she had a delicate tendency to embonpoint, it took some hauling… to get her on deck.” Neptune was played by a cockney Londoner, Able Seaman Charles Campbell, with a wig of ship’s rope strands “like the stiff ringlets of an Assyrian king. His crown was made of new tin, and glittered splendidly in the blazing sunlight; and his trident. Mrs Neptune was also a very imposing figure, and with a slight alteration of dress would have done well in the part of Mrs Gamp. Her towsy locks escaped from beneath a tin crown in beautiful confusion… she modestly tried to conceal a stubbly chin and ferocious moustache.”
The ancient gods processed around the main-deck to bagpipe accompaniment, before sitting in state on a special throne to dispense mock sentences to the crew. All in turn were summoned, interrogated, and sentenced to lathering, ducking and shaving in a great pool, where other members of the crew disported themselves at the Sea-God’s attendants, clad in seal-skins. Even Geordie, the second mate, “a great, good natured, fair-haired Hercules, well liked by the crew.” came forward blindfolded for sentencing. “All hands being initiated into the rights and privileges of the subjects of King Neptune, the ceremony was over.” But rather than stop the fun, the seamen began to “sacrifice” each other in jest for the remainder of the day.
The witness who records the amazing floating theatre was the middle-class artist and graduate of Edinburgh University, W.G. Burn Murdoch, who was on board to draw wildlife. His tone is patronizing. He dislikes the Dundee nouveau riches, but sneers that “the working classes have, perhaps, as little cultivation as their employers; but want of means prevents them showing an unlimited amount of bad taste”. Yet we have, at least, to be grateful to Burn Murdoch for his sketch of Neptune and Amphitrite in full regalia, which otherwise the world would never have seen. The music in the short clip below is a shanty that really was sung on the Balaena.
