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White Star Line officer wearing cap with White Star Line badge and removable ribbed white cap cover. 00020869 All images Samuel J Hood Collection, ANMM
Monkey jackets and ‘farbs’
White Star Line officers’ uniforms through the lens of the Samuel Hood Collection
The uniform of an ocean liner’s officer served several functions in the early years of the 20th century, as it still does today. It designated both the wearer’s role as crew and their rank in the ship’s hierarchy of command. There was a set of protocols about what was to be worn, and also how and when. On long ocean voyages, however, sometimes rules were stretched or even broken, writes Inger Sheil.
I had orders to report; and on arriving in Liverpool, found I was appointed to the RMS Medic, the first of the five huge White Star Liners that were to open the new Australian service. I suppose I ought to have felt flattered at being picked out from among the many, but it was rather a staggerer, since all my outfit happened to be roaming somewhere round the railways, more or less lost, and certainly unobtainable. When the Marine Superintendent told me the ship was sailing within a couple of days, I blurted out, ‘Good Lord, I’ve no clothes.’ His reply was short, and to the point. ‘Get some.’ I did, and rambled off to Australia with slightly less than half an outfit. But it was the White Star Line, the summit, at that time, of my ambitions. Titanic and Other Ships, Charles Lightoller (1935) THE WHITE STAR LINE’S AUSTRALIA SERVICE had its origins in the mid-19th century, and by the turn of the 20th century had been reinvigorated by the discovery of gold in Western Australia and an increase in migration numbers to the soon-to-be federated nation. Seeing opportunities in both emigration and the transportation of produce, the White Star Line launched the Jubilee class of ships, the largest vessels yet to serve the Australia trade. Five ships were required to run a monthly passenger service from Britain to Australia, with the first, Medic, making the voyage in 1899. Medic was soon joined by the Afric, Persic, Runic and Suevic. The company that Charles Lightoller joined was one of the most prominent shipping lines in the world. While the Australia trade did not quite carry the cachet of the trans-Atlantic passenger run on the large mail ships, it still represented an impressive posting for an ambitious young officer. On paper, at least, ships’ officers were expected to dress and conduct themselves to reflect the prestige of the line. In an undated, pre-1900 publication, Regulations for the Safe and Efficient Navigation of the Company’s Steamships, these expectations were explicitly set out in respect of uniforms: The uniform prescribed by the company is to be worn on board, at all times, by the officers (the engineer on watch excepted). The crew, consisting of the seamen, firemen and stewards, excepting firemen on duty, must always wear it on Sundays, at sea or in port; also on the days of sailing from or arriving in port, each of the crew being compelled to provide himself with a uniform.
The uniforms adopted by the British mercantile marine were based on those worn in the Royal Navy. At a time when Britain’s navy was in a position of global ascendency, such an association carried status. The more prestigious merchant shipping lines, including the White Star Line, also considered it desirable for their officers to hold commissions in the Royal Naval Reserve. As the regulations stated, the onus was on the officers themselves to provide their own garb. The White Star crew, in common with those of many other lines, sourced their uniforms from Miller’s Naval Tailors and Outfitters in their London, Southampton and Tilbury branches. The basic ensemble for both deck and engineering officers was known as the standard ‘service dress’ – sometimes referred to as ‘undress’. This uniform served the purpose of workaday attire, and consisted of a double-breasted, eight-buttoned waist-length reefer jacket in navy blue wool, referred to by the crew somewhat derisively as a ‘monkey jacket.’ This was worn with a white dress shirt, black tie and a collar and cuffs that were removable for laundering. Trousers were navy blue wool.
In 1856, Royal Navy officer insignia shifted to the use of gold lace (or braid) stripes worn on both sleeves to indicate rank, and the merchant service followed suit. At the turn of the 20th century, the ship’s captain wore four rows of lace, the top having a loop known as the executive curl. The chief officer had three rows with an executive curl, the first officer had two, and the second and subsequent officers, numbering up to six on larger lines, had a single stripe with executive curl. A similar system, minus the executive curl, was in place for the engineering officers. In the post-World War I era, the colour purple was added as a base fabric for merchant navy engineers’ braids, giving rise to a legend that the colour was chosen to honour the heroism of the engineering officers who perished with the White Star liner Titanic in 1912. Purple, however, had been associated with the engineering branch of the Royal Navy since at least the 1860s. Black mohair braids could be worn instead of gold braid on service dress. These were suitable for rougher work, being cheaper to replace and less easy to damage than the gilded copper wire braid. A summer standard uniform, often worn in Australian climes during the warmer months, was also part of a full officer’s kit. This consisted of a white single-breasted jacket with a high Russian collar, worn without a shirt and tie. Shoulder boards were worn instead of cuff braid to identify rank. The outfit was completed with white trousers and sometimes white shoes. Photographs of the period, particularly formal and semi-formal photographs taken on board, often show the navy blue reefer jacket combined with the white trousers.

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01 Deck officer of the White Star Line in summer uniform. Two bars on his shoulder boards indicate that he holds the rank of First Officer. 0002058
02 Engineering officer in full dress, including a somewhat rumpled frock coat and white cap cover. 00020801
01 Deck officer in full dress with dark gloves as worn on watch. The uniform indicates this photo may have been taken soon after arrival, while embarking or disembarking passengers, or shortly prior to departure. 00021370

02 The White Star liner RMS Medic was one of the premier passenger liners on the Australian service in the early years of the 20th century. 00023693 01

02 On paper, at least, ships’ officers were expected to dress and conduct themselves to reflect the prestige of the line
Full company dress constituted the most formal uniform worn by White Star Line officers. It was marked by the adoption of the double-breasted navy blue knee-length frock coat worn with trousers of navy blue Melton wool. A waistcoat, also of navy blue, was worn over a white cotton or linen bib-front shirt with turn-down collar and with a black silk necktie. Photographs also show the frock coat worn with dark gloves when an officer was on watch. For mess dress, worn by senior crew entitled to dine with passengers, a bow tie instead of necktie was worn with full company dress, and ceremonial white cloth gloves were appropriate. The uniforms included a cap with a black patent leather visor and a cap badge with the line’s insignia (a swallowtail flag with a white star on a red field), surrounded by laurel leaves and surmounted by a crown. A removable white cap cover was worn over the top of the cap as part of the summer uniform or as part of full company dress. Brass buttons, supplied by manufacturers such as Waterburys or Rayner and Sons of Liverpool, were worn on the uniform jackets. These featured an embossed White Star Line house flag.
The Samuel Hood collection
The Australian National Maritime Museum’s Samuel Hood collection is a rich visual documentation of the crews of ships that called at Sydney in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. In photographs ranging from candid shots to more formally posed images, Hood documented the officers on the decks of their vessels, taking a moment from their working life in port to be captured on film. While unfortunately most of these men have not yet been identified by name, the resulting images provide a record of what they wore in their daily working life. The White Star Line’s General Regulations booklet of 1900 made it known that the commander, officers and engineers were expected to wear mess dress ‘while entering or leaving port, when embarking or disembarking passengers, and when attending Sunday Service’. On other occasions the company’s undress might be worn. Many of the Hood photographs reflect these protocols, with excellent examples of the types of uniforms described above. However, work at sea – and in port – was conducted in a corrosive environment, and the wear and tear on uniforms during the long passage out meant that keeping an officer’s kit in good order required considerable attention. While the primary role of the deck officers was to oversee the safe navigation of the ship, they might also find themselves called up for other duties on the voyage, such as supervising crew as they ventured into the cargo areas to retrieve luggage that had been labelled as ‘not wanted on the voyage’ but which a capricious passenger had decided they wanted after all. In foul weather they might find themselves working exposed on deck, and in tropical climes conditions could be stifling in spite of a summer uniform. In port, they oversaw the stowage of cargo and the resupply of the ship. In the days of coal-burning steamers, dockyards were gritty, grimy working areas. Engineers also faced challenging conditions, working deep in the hull and overseeing operations in engines, boiler rooms and coal bunkers.

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Laundry facilities aboard were fairly basic, and on some ships might consist of little more than a deeper wash basin to hand-wash garments. Some liners carried a steward charged with looking after the officers, but much of the uniform upkeep fell to the officers themselves. Having started their careers as apprentices, they would have learned early in their seafaring days the value of carrying essentials for maintaining their clothing. Frank Bullen, writing in Men of the Merchant Service (1900), suggested that all apprentices should be fitted out with blacking, ‘a pair of very small shoe-brushes’, ‘a small clothes-brush’, three bars of ‘good yellow soap’ and ‘a housewife [mending kit], well supplied with needles and thread (not cotton), and mending wool, scissors and tweezers’. While White Star liners may have been able to provide some of these, officers also brought their own necessary items. A shoe brush and spare White Star Line buttons were among the objects found in a bag salvaged from the wreck of the Titanic that has been identified as belonging to First Officer William Murdoch. In light of the wear and tear an officer could expect to their kit, it is not surprising that standards of dress sometimes slipped.
Farbs and ‘authentic farbs’
There is a term familiar to military re-enactors that dates back to the 1960s: ‘farb’. There are several theories as to the word’s origins – it may derive from the phrase ‘Far be it from me to criticise…’ or ‘Far Below Standard’ – but disputed etymology aside, its meaning is clear as a derogatory term applied to re-enactors who, it is asserted, have failed to assemble a historically accurate kit. What constitutes a farb is often a matter of dispute, as researchers delve into historical sources to establish authenticity in both clothing and conduct. Online communities have developed a counter to this, light-heartedly dubbing the results ‘authentic farbs’. These are primary sources such as photographs and illustrations that show period figures, usually military, wearing their garb in ways not officially sanctioned by regulations. Rank insignia worn incorrectly, non-militaryissue accoutrements such as weapons, belts and hats, gear appropriated from opposing forces – all of these are typical for an authentic farb that would not pass the eagle eye of a modern-day re-enacting purist, but which were part of the lived experiences of historic figures for whom not all wear was dictated ‘by the book’.

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Hood’s photographs reveal similar uniform transgressions. In one image (02 above), we see a frock coat with two columns of six buttons – an anomaly, when known examples from this period have two columns of five. In one particularly notable example of a uniform styling that defies regulation dress, an officer wears a frock jacket with summer white trousers – while officers sometimes wore the navy reefer jacket of service dress with the white trousers, wearing the more formal frock jacket in this way presents us with an incongruous combination (03 above). As Lightoller’s words about travelling to Australia ‘with slightly less than half an outfit’ indicate, not every officer was fully kitted out. Nor, having voyaged for months with a limited wardrobe and limited laundry facilities, was every garment still fit for purpose. Our unknown deck officer in the image above made do with what he had to hand, and if he was somewhat surprised at being captured on a nitrate negative by the visit of an enterprising photographer, his stance indicates he decided to brazen it out for the camera. The resulting mismatch is a delightful reminder that while official sources may tell us what ‘correct’ behaviour was in matters such as dress, they do not always tell us the full story. ‘Farb’ is a derogatory term applied to historical re-enactors who, it is asserted, have failed to assemble a historically accurate kit
01 An engineer in service dress, displaying dark mohair braid in place of gold braid. 00020805 02 Deck officer in full dress wearing a frock coat with two columns of six buttons – an anomaly, when known examples from this period have two columns of five buttons. 0021403
03 An officer flouts regulation dress by wearing a frock coat with summer white trousers. 00021148
Inger Sheil is an assistant curator at the museum and the author of Titanic Valour: The life of Fifth Officer Harold Lowe (The History Press, 2011).
The author would like to thank Titanic researcher John Hemmert for sharing his extensive knowledge and insight on White Star Line uniforms.