Naval and Military Sobriquets
The Roman Manlius (appointed Consul in the year 224 B.C.) received the name of Torquatus from the incident of having torn the golden torque or collar from the neck of his adversary in the field. Charles, the son of Pepin d’Heristal, was surnamed Martel in recognition of his victory over the Saracens, who attempted the invasion of France in the year 732. According to the chronicler, “he knocked down the foe and crushed them between his axe, as a martel or hammer crushes what it strikes.” Robert, Duke of Normandy, the father of William the Conqueror (died 1035), bore the name of Robert le Diable, or Robert the Devil, on account of his courageous cruelty in war. The Scottish outlaw, Sir William Wallace (born 1270, beheaded 1305), was styled The Hammer and Scourge of England by reason of his patriotism. William Douglas, Lord of Nithsdale (died 1390), was known as Black Douglas because his frame was tall, strong, and well-built, while his hair was dark and his complexion swarthy. Archibald Douglas, Earl of Angus (died 1514), merited the sobriquet of Bell the Cat for having put to death the upstart favourites of James III., and so prevented the creation of nobles out of architects and masons whom the king particularly patronized. At a meeting convened in the Church of Lauder by the Scottish nobles for the purpose of taking measures to obtain the removal of these persons, Lord Gray had put the question, “But who will bell the cat?” “That will I!” answered Douglas on the instant; and he kept his word, for in the very presence of the king he slew the obnoxious minions with his own hand.
Richard Nevil, Earl of Warwick (born 1420, died 1471), was surnamed The King Maker for the reason that while he espoused the cause of the Yorkists, Edward IV. succeeded in his efforts to gain the English Crown; and when, subsequently, he transferred his influence to the Lancastrians, Henry VI. was restored and the usurper deposed. Harry Percy (born 1364, died 1403) was styled Hotspur, and Prince Rupert (born 1619, died 1682) The Mad Cavalier because they found it impossible to restrain their rash courage in time of war. The soldiers of Cromwell, after the Battle of Marston Moor, received the popular name of Ironsides on account of their armour and their iron resolution. The sobriquet of The Almighty Nose was bestowed upon Oliver Cromwell (born 1599, died 1658), in allusion to his nasal enormity. Strange, indeed, that he who had attained to the highest position in the land by the sheer force of arms should have been so continually taunted with the length and colour of his nose! Yet so it was. Nevertheless, there have been others whose peace of mind was daily threatened by popular malice in this selfsame respect. Even the great Roman poet Ovid suffered a lifelong martyrdom, and became the recipient of the sobriquet of Naso, owing to the possession of an unusually large nose; just as in modern times Wilson, the painter, and Cervetto, the violincellist of Drury Lane Theatre, never succeeded in putting their heads out of their own doors without being greeted with shouts of “Nosey!” from the mob.
The Duke of Cumberland (born 1721, died 1765) rightly deserved the opprobrious surname of The Bloody Butcher on account of his merciless slaughter of the vanquished adherents of the Young Pretender after the Battle of Culloden. The soldiers of the Duke of Marlborough (born 1650, died 1722) familiarly styled their leader Corporal John because he had risen from the rank of Corporal; while General Bonaparte, afterwards Emperor of the French (born 1769, died 1821), bore the name of The Little Corporal, in allusion to his original rank, his low stature, youthful appearance, and extraordinary courage. As most readers are aware, Wellington (born 1769, died 1852) earned the name of The Iron Duke by his iron will and resolution; and Blucher (born 1742, died 1819) that of Marshal Forward, by his dash and readiness to attack the enemy in the campaign which terminated in the Battle of Waterloo. Prince Bismarck, the late Chancellor of the German Empire (born 1815) owed his surname of The Iron Chancellor to his extraordinary vigour and indomitable will. Helmuth, Count von Moltke, Field-Marshal of the German armies (born 1800, died 1891), was popularly surnamed Helmuth the Taciturn, because though a master of half a dozen languages, he was never known to betray himself in one of them. The sobriquet of Stonewall Jackson, possessed by Thomas Jonathan Jackson, the Confederate General in the American War of 1861 to 1865, originated with General Lee, who, after rallying his troops at the Battle of Bull Run, exclaimed, “There is Jackson, standing like a stone wall!” A less complimentary sobriquet bestowed upon General Andrew Jackson, President of the United States (born 1767, died 1845), by his own soldiers, was that of Old Hickory, in allusion to his tough, unyielding disposition. The circumstance is thus commented upon by Parton, the author of Jackson’s Life:—“The name of Old Hickory was not an instantaneous inspiration, but a growth. First of all, the remark was made by some soldier, who was struck with his commander’s pedestrian powers, that the General was tough. Next, it was observed that he was as tough as hickory. Then he was called Hickory. Lastly, the affectionate adjective ’old’ was prefixed, and the General thenceforth rejoiced in the completed nickname, usually the first-won honour of a great commander.”
Of naval sobriquets we shall mention only three. Commodore John Byron, the circumnavigator (born 1723, died 1786), was popularly known as Foul Weather Jack because, it was said, he never enjoyed a fine passage throughout the whole of his experience. Admiral Edward Vernon (born 1684, died 1757), to whom reference is made in our article on “Spirits,” was called Old Grog, because he wore a “Grogram” coat in “dirty weather” [see Grogram]. Admiral Sir Henry Digby received his well-known sobriquet of The Silver Captain under the following interesting circumstances:—On the October 14, 1799, when commanding the frigate Alcmene, on a cruise off the Spanish coast, he shaped his course for Cape St. Vincent, and was running to the southward, in the latitude of Cape Finisterre. Twice during the night he rang his bell to summon the officer on the watch, and asked him if any person had been in the cabin. “No, sir; nobody,” was the answer. “Very odd,” rejoined Sir Henry. “Every time I dropped asleep I heard somebody shouting in my ear, ‘Digby! Digby! go to the northward; Digby! Digby! go to the northward!’ I shall certainly do so. Take another reef in your topsails, haul your wind, tack every hour till daybreak, and then call me.” These orders were strictly carried out, and the frigate was tacked at four, at five, at six, and at seven o’clock. She had just come round for the last time when the man at the masthead called out, “Large ship on the weather-bow, sir!” On nearing her a musket was discharged to bring her to. She was quickly boarded, when she proved to be a Spanish vessel laden with dollars, in addition to a large cargo of cochineal and spices. By this capture therefore, the fortunate dreamer secured, as his (Captain’s) share of the prize-money, the sum of £40,730 18s.; the lieutenants each £5,091 7s. 3d.; the warrant officers each £2,468 10s. 9½d.; the midshipmen each £791 17s. 0¼d.; and the seamen and marines each £182 14s. 9½d. The captured treasure was said to have been so weighty that sixty-three artillery tumbrils had to be requisitioned for the purpose of transporting it from the vessel to Plymouth Citadel.