I am fortunate to be the proud owner of a ceremonial sword that was presented to Charles Austen, Jane’s youngest brother and my great-great-great-grandfather.  The sword, more accurately known as a spadroon, was presented to Captain Charles John Austen, RN, then commanding HMS Aurora, at the city of Caracas on 1 March 1827 by General Simon Bolivar, the liberator of his country.  It was on display for many years in the Admiral’s Room at Jane Austen’s House in Chawton, alongside other Austen family memorabilia.  But in June 2023 Patrick Stokes, my cousin and another direct descendant of Charles Austen, told me that the spadroon was no longer on display at Chawton and was no longer required, and that the Admiral’s Room now featured an alternative display.

The sword was identified as a spadroon by Nick Ball, Collections, Galleries, and Interpretation Manager at the Historic Dockyard Chatham.  A spadroon is a category of sword that, in size, is between a small sword (which thrusts only) and the heavier-bladed broadsword.  In my attempts to relocate the spadroon I delved into Charles’s life and naval career, and, through a remarkable coincidence, I found the perfect new home for the spadroon:  next to the timbers of the ship on which he lived with his family during the early part of his career.

Born in 1779, Charles was the youngest member of the Austen family and, allegedly, Jane’s favorite brother.  Like his older brother Francis, Charles also chose a career in the navy.  Both enjoyed remarkable success, with Francis becoming Admiral of the Fleet (the top job in the navy) and Charles reaching the rank of Rear Admiral before his death in 1852 at the age of seventy-three.  What of the personalities of the two brothers?  Whereas Francis was a reserved and private man and a stickler for discipline, Charles was described as a man of “sweet temper and affectionate disposition” with “bubbling enthusiasm” and “undoubted charm” (Southam 16).  He seemed to enjoy great popularity among those who served with him. 

Charles joined the Royal Naval Academy in 1791 at the age of twelve, and by 1794 he had become a midshipman aboard HMS Daedalus.  Charles’s career progressed steadily, but unspectacularly, with promotions to Lieutenant (1797), Commander (1804), and Captain (1810).  At the time, career progression was strongly influenced by the patronage system whereby “patrons and friends” (especially those with distinguished naval careers) played a major role in promoting the capabilities of officers who were known to them.  As the son of a clergyman who had no ties with the navy, Charles experienced a slow career progression that was almost certainly hampered by the absence of any influential sponsors.  

Captain Charles John Austen and Fanny FitzWilliams Austen by Robert Field 1810. Courtesy of Private Collection

Despite regular promotions and the opportunity to secure prize money from capturing enemy ships, many naval officers were not well off.  This problem was exacerbated by the fact that they had to accept a much lower salary at those times when they were unable to gain a commission, yet achieving promotion meant rising costs.  On promotion to Captain, for example, a naval officer was expected to find much smarter uniforms, pay costly entertaining expenses, and provide his own navigational instruments, chronometer, spyglasses, and charts.  This financial background may partly explain why, shortly after his promotion to Captain, Charles decided to provide a home for his wife, Fanny, and two young children on board a former warship—HMS Namur—as opposed to a more conventional land-based home. 

Born in 1789, Fanny (Frances Fitz Williams Palmer Austen) was the daughter of John Grove Palmer, the attorney general of Bermuda.  Charles and Fanny met in Bermuda following Charles’s posting to North America and his appointment as the Commander of HMS Indian, a sloop with 18 guns.  At the tender age of seventeen, Fanny married Charles in Bermuda.  When Charles had completed his service on board HMS Indian, they both travelled to England in 1811 with the expectation that Charles would be appointed Captain of HMS Cleopatra, the vessel under his temporary command.  But Charles was to be disappointed, a victim of over-capacity in the number of senior naval officers relative to the size of the fleet and posts available, as well as his inability to benefit from the patronage system. 

HMS Namur, by Jack Spurling (1931)

Instead, Charles was appointed as flag captain on board HMS Namur, the guard and receiving ship moored at the Great Nore Anchorage off the coast of Sheerness in Kent.  The Namur was to become the family home.  This appointment was a far cry from capturing French frigates and chasing prize money, but it was a job nevertheless and was not unwelcome. 

Launched in 1756 as a 90-gun second-rate ship of the line, the Namur saw extensive military service spanning nearly fifty years and including campaigns such as the capture of Louisbourg, the Battle of Havana, and the Battle of Cape St. Vincent.  Her most distinguished battle honors came at Lagos (off the coast of Portugal) in 1759 when the Namur was the flagship in a crucial action during the Seven Years’ War, a naval encounter that resulted in the capture of three French warships and the destruction of the French Mediterranean fleet.  Following many years of further service, the Namur was eventually cut down to a 74-gun third-rate ship before finally being decommissioned. 

With the Austen family having their own designated quarters on board, Fanny no doubt tried her best to provide a comfortable environment for her family, but living on a converted warship obviously had many challenges.  Finding domestic staff who were prepared to live and work on board a ship was difficult; seasickness was a perennial problem; and the weather could be bitterly cold in winter.  Bringing up small children and managing all aspects of the household on board an old warship permanently moored off the Kent coast clearly contrasted with the idyllic life and pleasant climate that Fanny had enjoyed when growing up in Bermuda. 

By 1814 Fanny was pregnant again, and she gave birth on August 31 of that year on board the Namur to a fourth daughter.  All seemed to go well initially, but Fanny developed sudden and serious postnatal complications and died just six days later.  Tragically, the baby, Elizabeth, lived for only three weeks. 

Entrusting care of the three surviving children to Harriet, Fanny’s sister, Charles was eventually given command of the 36-gun frigate HMS Phoenix.  In 1816, disaster struck when, because of errors by its pilots, the ship was wrecked off Smyrna (what is now Ismir in Turkey).  Charles faced the inevitable court martial, but he was “honourably” and unanimously cleared (Kindred 180).  This desperately unfortunate incident had a highly detrimental effect on Charles’s career and made it much harder for him subsequently to secure the commissions at sea that he craved.  Whatever the circumstances and the verdict, being in command of a ship that was lost at sea was viewed very negatively by the naval authorities and was consequently a huge setback. 

In the space of two years, Charles had lost both his beloved wife and baby daughter as well as a ship that was under his command.  A staggering ten years elapsed before he was able to return to sea, but during this time he married Fanny’s sister Harriet, who had so devotedly looked after his three daughters.  Although marrying the sister of your deceased wife was “prohibited by the Table of Kindred and Affinity of the Church of England” (Kindred 182), such marriages were not illegal.  Charles’s second marriage was uncommon and almost certainly viewed negatively at the time.  Charles subsequently became the father of another four children, two of whom died young. 

In June 1826 Charles finally secured the commission he craved when he joined the 46-gun HMS Aurora and was sent to the Jamaica station as second in command.  He enjoyed considerable success in his role of combating slavery through the interception of slave ships bound for the United States and the Spanish colonies of Cuba and Puerto Rico.  Additionally, the Aurora formed part of the naval presence in the Caribbean, showing the flag in support of those states of South America that were seeking to maintain independence from Spanish rule. 

The liberation movement was led by Simon Bolivar.  Born in Caracas, the charismatic Bolivar succeeded in liberating Venezuela from Spanish rule in 1813, the beginning of his “Campaña Admirable” (Admirable Campaign).  Hailed as “El Liberator,” Bolivar not only extended his influence on other countries in South America but was also instrumental in the creation of the Gran Colombia, which encompassed what is now Venezuela, Colombia, Panama, and Ecuador.  Peru followed in 1824; in 1825 the “Republic of Bolivia” was created in Bolivar’s honor. 

The support of a strong Royal Naval presence was crucial to Bolivar as he faced opposition from a faction within his party seeking to take Venezuela out of the Gran Colombia.  Charles played a significant role in supporting Bolivar and helping to preserve the Gran Colombia.  Bolivar personally recognized Charles’s assistance and presented him with a magnificent spadroon ornamented with a cannon-shaped cross-guard and eagle-headed pommel.  The loop guard is in the form of a rope, which is held in the eagle’s mouth and loops around the cannon.  The grip is carved ivory.  The steel blade is etched with decorative patterns and gilded decoration.  The scabbard (or sheath for holding the sword) is decorated with eagle and sun motifs on one side; on the other side is inscribed the dedication to Charles Austen from General Simon Bolivar:  “Presented to Captain Charles John Austen RN, commanding HMS Aurora at the city of Caracas, 1st March 1827 by General Simon Bolivar the liberator of his country as a mark of esteem.” 

The Spadroon presented by Simon Bolivar to Captain Charles John Austen, RN
(Click here to see a larger version.)

The exact circumstances under which Charles received the spadroon from Bolivar and the many stages in its journey through the years, culminating in my personal ownership and safekeeping of this magnificent family heirloom, remain largely a mystery.  In one of his diary entries Charles makes it clear that he and Bolivar did indeed meet:  Bolivar is a “small man with a fine countenance,” his expression “thoughtful and almost melancholy” (20 April 1827; 19 April 1827).

But fast forward to the present time and the dilemma that I faced in trying to find a suitable home for the spadroon.  I wanted to ensure that the spadroon was exhibited alongside Charles’s General Service Medal, which I’m also fortunate enough to own.  Aside from the Austen connection, the very unusual combination of the clasps (Unicorn 1796 and Syria 1849) with an interval of over forty years in between, means that the medal is almost certainly unique. 

At the back of my mind, I remembered reading about HMS Namur in Sheila Johnson Kindred’s excellent book Jane Austen’s Transatlantic Sister: The Life and Letters of Fanny Palmer Austen.  And I also remembered something about “the ship under the floor” that had been discovered at the Historic Chatham Dockyard.  In 1995, part of a Royal Navy warship was found hidden under the floors of the Wheelwright’s Shop at Chatham, an English town on the River Medway in Kent to the southeast of London.  Chatham has a rich naval history, at its peak employing over ten thousand workers involved in building, repairing, and supplying ships for the Royal Navy.  The dockyard played a crucial role in the defence of Britain:  ships from Chatham fought in every war, from the battles against the Spanish Armada to the Falklands War. 

The discovery of the remains of around a quarter of a frame of a Royal Navy warship from the age of sail that was hidden under seven layers of flooring generated considerable interest and was hailed as “the single most important warship discovery in Northern Europe since the Mary Rose” (“Finding HMS Namur”).  Further investigation revealed that the ship had been dismantled and essentially buried within the Wheelwright’s Shop with the timbers used as floor joists.  What is unclear is whether this course of action was essentially a “memorial” to HMS Namur in recognition of her many years of sterling service, or whether there were more pragmatic reasons for this unusual burial, such as reusing timber that was in short supply. 

There were various clues about the identity of the ship.  Shipwright’s marks revealed that the ship had been built in Chatham, and the existence of metal “knees” that were used to tighten the timbers revealed that the vessel had been modified in the nineteenth century.  These details narrowed down the possibilities and indicated that the ship had been built between 1750 and 1775; it had subsequently been modified and then dismantled in about 1830.  Further detective work revealed that only one ship could possibly satisfy all these criteria:  HMS Namur.  Extensive work was undertaken to restore the ship’s timbers and to make them available for display.  The wheelwright’s floor was raised to create vantage points for visitors, and lighting has been installed to illustrate the timbers and help communicate the fascinating history of HMS Namur. 

The timbers from the HMS Namur at the Historic Dockyard Chatham

HMS Namur (or at least her timbers!) became the centerpiece of the “Commands of the Ocean” at Chatham and is now on display alongside other illustrious Royal Navy ships, including HMS Gannet (a sloop launched in 1878), HMS Cavalier (a WW2 destroyer), and HM Submarine Ocelot, the last vessel to be built at Chatham.  The Historic Chatham Dockyard expressed strong interest in exhibiting Charles’s spadroon and medal, and they told me of their plans to put together a collection of memorabilia from famous people, including Olaudah Equiano and Clarkson Stanfield, both of whom had served on board HMS Namur. 

Olaudah Equiano (1745–1797) was kidnapped at the age of eleven in 1756, taken to a slave ship, and worked in the dangerous role of “powder monkey,” that is, carrying powder for the ship’s guns.  Also known as Gustavus Vassa, the African, Equiano had seen service at least fifty years before Charles Austen assumed command of the Namur, and the circumstances leading to Equiano’s life on board the Namur would have horrified Charles, a committed abolitionist.  In The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah, Written by Himself, published in 1789, Equiano provides graphic details of his time as an enslaved person who started working on board the Namur at the age of fourteen; he was owned by Michael Henry Pascal, one of the ship’s lieutenants.  In his autobiography Equiano documents not only his life as a slave but also the antislavery movement. 

Olaudah Equinano, Or Gustavus Vassa, the African. From The Interesting Narrative of the Life of Olaudah Equiano or Gustavus Vassa the African (1789)

Equiano later built a career as a sailor and tradesman, bought his freedom from slavery, and became a highly influential abolitionist.  His diaries provide disturbing insights into the harsh realities of life on board HMS Namur, especially during military engagement.  He witnessed the capture of Quebec by General Wolfe (who had sailed from Spithead on board the Namur) and described the surrender ceremony as “the most beautiful procession on the water that I ever saw” (51). 

In 1759, Equiano was on board HMS Namur during the battle of Lagos and vividly described the battle conditions that the crew experienced:  “My station during the engagement was on the middle deck where I was quartered with another boy, to bring powder to the aftermost gun; and here I was a witness of the dreadful fate of many of my companions who, in the twinkling of an eye were dashed into pieces and launched into eternity” (61).  Remarkably, he survived:  “We were also, from our employment, very much exposed to the enemy’s shots; for we had to go through nearly the whole length of the ship to bring the powder.  I expected therefore every minute to be my last; especially when I saw our men fall so thick about me” (62). 

Clarkson Stanfield is regarded as one of England’s finest marine painters.  Like Equiano, he joined HMS Namur reluctantly, having been pressganged as a teenager in 1812 and forced to stay on board for two years.  Discharged on health grounds after falling from the rigging of the Namur, he subsequently carved out a very successful career as a theatre scene painter and then as a maritime artist.  Stanfield was elected a full member of the Royal Academy, and his most famous work is The Battle of Trafalgar (1836). 

HMS Victory, with the Body of Nelson on Board, Towed into Gibraltar, 28th October, 1805, Seven Days after the Battle of Trafalgar, by Clarkson Stanfield.
Somerlayton Hall, Suffolk (Private Collection)
(Click here to see a larger version.)

The Dockyard at Chatham welcomed the opportunity to provide a home for Charles Austen’s spadroon, now on permanent display, together with other mementos of Charles and Fanny.  The spadroon takes pride of place in the Command of the Oceans galleries showcasing naval life during the great Age of Sail.  It is entirely appropriate that the Austen display is just a few feet away from the timbers of the ship where Charles lived with his family and where Fanny tragically died.  The timbers of HMS Namur are a fitting tribute to Jane’s “darling little brother,” the distinguished naval career of a much loved and highly resilient officer, and a memorial to his beloved wife Fanny.  The spadroon has helped to reunite Charles with HMS Namur.  Living aboard HMS Namur had its challenges and witnessed the worst possible personal tragedy, but it had enabled Charles, Fanny, and the little girls to be together—a welcome relief when naval officers were required to spend so much time at sea. 

The Dockyard at Chatham’s Command of the Oceans galleries now provide a permanent home and display for Charles Austen’s spadroon and scabbard, his Royal Naval Service Medal, and photographs of Charles and Fanny.  These galleries showcase not only naval life during the great Age of Sail, they also help create visual intimations of naval imagery in Jane Austen’s novels.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

This article is dedicated to the memory of Patrick Stokes, former Chairman of the Jane Austen Society, naval history aficionado, genealogist, raconteur, and inspirational Austen cousin. 

In writing this article I’m indebted to Sheila Johnson Kindred and Nick Ball, Collections, Galleries and Interpretation Manager at the Historic Dockyard Chatham.  Both are leading experts in their respective fields.  Sheila has written prodigiously about the Austen family in books, articles, and blogs; Nick, a specialist in naval history, kindly and expertly identified the sword as a spadroon.  I’m also immensely grateful to Laurie Kaplan for her help and encouragement in writing my first essay in at least fifty years.