Cutty Sark: The Long Legacy of a Short Chemise

What do Ichabod Crane, one of the most famous ships to sail the seas, and a famous brand of Scotch whiskey all have in common? The short answer is . . . something short. To be less obscure: they all owe their existence to the Scots poet, Robert Burns – and a scantily clad witch whom he immortalized figures heavily in the mix.

Tam O’Shanter, one of the more lengthy poems of Burns’ (perhaps best known as the author of Auld Lang Syne), relates the experience (based on local folk legend) of the eponymous subject, a good-natured if somewhat derelict Scottish chap who, lingering overlate one night at a public house in the town of Ayr, must ride alone, in the midst of a brewing storm (literal and figurative), to his home and shrewish wife which await him in the countryside. Passing an abandoned church, he notices a light and a noisy din emanating from the midst of the ruins and creeps up close to investigate. There he sees a bevy of witches, warlocks, and other grotesque creatures dancing in a frolic, while the Devil himself plays the bagpipes.

One witch in particular catches Tam’s notice: a comely young, dark-haired damsel who is dancing provocatively, thinly clad in nothing but an undersized nightshirt. The sight causes the still-inebriated Tam to lose his wits, and he, forgetting both fear and discretion, cries aloud “Weel done, Cutty-sark!,” which roughly translates as “Way to go, you in the too-short night gown!” (Cutty, in the Scots dialect, means short, and sark denotes a shirt, or, in this case, a chemise or nightshirt commonly worn as an undergarment.)

Immediately, the lights are extinguished, and Tam, instantly aware of his folly, flees in terror, with the whole host of demonic spirits flying through the air in hot pursuit, right on his horse’s heels. Knowing, as all folks somehow do in such tales, that evil spirits cannot cross a stream of running water, Tam rides as hard as he can for the stone bridge that arches over the nearby River Doon. Just as he achieves the crest of the bridge, Nannie Dee (the pretty witch’s actual name, as we know from other sources) reaches out and grabs hold of the mare’s tale, yanking all the hairs out by the roots as Tam and Meg (the mare’s name) make good their escape.

Burns’ poem was first published in 1791, and achieved almost instantaneous renown throughout the English-speaking world. Readers of early American author Washington Irving will undoubtedly recognize immediate parallels with The Legend of Sleepy Hollow (1820), with hints, perhaps, of Rip Van Winkle (1819). (The experiences of Tam O’Shanter certainly align with those of Ichabod Crane, the protagonist of the former tale, though in character he more resembles the hen-pecked, tavern-frequenting namesake of the latter story.)

In 1869, a ship that was destined to be the crowning achievement of the clipper era was launched from her birthplace, the yards at River Leven, in Dumbarton, Scotland. Her owner, London shipping magnate John (“Jock”) Willis, christened her Cutty Sark, probably in evocation of the supernatural speed of Tam O'Shanter’s paranormal pursuer. (And it was a connection not without precedent: the ship widely regarded as the first true clipper was the American-built Sea Witch, launched in 1846.) Cutty Sark’s hull was of a hybrid design: iron ribs within clad with traditional wooden planking without. Her figurehead was a masterfully carved image of Nannie Dee, painted ghostly white and clutching a horse's tail in her outstretched left hand.

At first it might have seemed that Cutty Sark’s diabolical associations, rather than bestowing any advantage, had instead called down a curse. A series of setbacks, disappointing performances, and even tragedies marred her early years. (On one ill-fated voyage her distraught captain committed suicide by throwing himself overboard.) Built with the tea run from China to London in mind, she served in that capacity for only a few brief years. With the opening of the Suez Canal, steamers had captured most of the tea trade by the late 1870s, and the clippers were forced to range for other less glamorous cargo. After several years hauling whatever freight she could command – coal, jute, timber, sugar, castor oil – and more bad luck – she limped into New York Harbor in the spring of 1882 in sorry shape and with a half-starved crew, thanks to the the neglect and incompetence of her then-captain – Cutty Sark was refitted in 1885 for the Australian wool trade.

Her new captain, Richard Woodget, proved an expert master, and together over the next decade they forged a legendary reputation that glimmers yet, like a sterling capstone on the glorious age of sail. The Australian wool runs proved every bit as competitive as the China tea trade had been, and Cutty Sark demonstrated at last that she could consistently outrun her old rival, Thermopylae, or any other vessel afloat – including even the new-fangled steamers if the winds were in her favor.

Sold to a Portugese shipping firm in 1895, Cutty Sark operated as a merchant vessel well into the 20th century, and after that as a training vessel by another English owner. By the 1950s, her unique prestige as the sole survivor of the clipper era led to the establishment of the Cutty Sark Preservation Society, which undertook a thorough restoration of the famed ship. Put on permanent display in Greenwich, she resides there to this day, despite extensive rebuilding following a devastating fire in 2007.

Thanks to the popular brand of Scotch whiskey introduced in 1923, Cutty Sark is a name known the world over, though the vast majority of its imbibers no doubt have little notion either of the term’s meaning or its origins. But for those in the know, it would certainly be fitting to lift a glass of Cutty Sark on New Year’s Eve, while singing Auld Lang Syne, in honor of the poetic ties that unite all of these themes together.