SHEP’S COMMENTS ON THE DIORAMA

On the night of October 14th, after a day-long bombardment, four hundred picked men of Lafayette’s elite American light infantry stealthily approached the ramparts of Redoubt No. 10, an important British forward position at Yorktown. Their muskets were unloaded to ensure surprise, the position was to be carried by bayonet alone. In a brief but furious struggle illuminated by British muskets and grenades, the Americans swept over the parapet and overwhelmed the small British garrison.

This was the only actual American assault during the siege of Yorktown, but was a crucial, factor in its success; only five days after the redoubt fell, on October 19th, Cornwallis surrendered his army, and the independence of the United States was assured.

 From Sheperd Paine: The Life and Work of a Master Military Modeler and Historian by Jim DeRogatis (Schiffer Books, 2008)

J.D. You did yet another night scene for your next box, “The Capture of Redoubt Number Ten, Yorktown.”

S.P. That was done shortly after I did the Yorktown sculpture for the Franklin Mint, so I had all of the parts that I had cast up for that project: The muskets, headgear, cartridge boxes, lapels, cuffs, etcetera were already done and ready to go. Also, in the Franklin Mint piece, the contours of the redoubt were flattened out to fit their space and packaging requirements, and, of course, it was a night attack, but there’s no sense of the night in the sculpture. As a night scene, I realized this would make a great box.

This was the only actual fighting that took place at Yorktown, which was a classic eighteenth century siege. Basically, they fired cannons at each other until one side gave up, but the Allies needed to take the two outlying redoubts so they could advance their guns and trenches closer to the British positions. The French attacked one redoubt, and the Americans attacked the other. The attack was made with unloaded muskets, because if anybody accidentally discharged a musket, the element of surprise on which everything depended would be lost, so it was done with bayonets only on the part of the Americans. The men who took part in the action recalled that it was entirely illuminated by the flash of the British muskets and the explosions of the British grenades. That illumination is really the basis of the scene: There’s an overall blue light overhead, but the only other lights are the musket flashes. The British are up on the ramparts, throwing grenades down into the ditch at the back, and you can see the orange glow of the explosions behind the parapet. One fellow has a grenade in his raised arm, and he’s about to throw it; you can see the lit grenade in one hand, and the glowing match that he used to light it in the other.

J.D. The diorama really captures how horrific it must have been for the Americans to charge into that wall of fire.

S.P. Yes, but on the other hand, you can also sense the fear of the British as they see the Americans with fixed bayonets swarming over the ramparts.

J.D. The British have the upper hand for the moment, but given that it will take them thirty seconds to reload, they’re ultimately doomed. I’ve always wondered, Shep: Were the American actually that well dressed?

S.P. The American light infantry was an elite group, composed of men from the light companies of various regiments. They were commanded by Alexander Hamilton, who actually led the attack, and Washington’s army was fairly well dressed by this time in the war.

J.D. This is one of your simplest settings—the background of the box is all black velvet.

S.P. The background is certainly all black velvet, and the groundwork is pretty simple as well: It’s all Celluclay and dirt. The one thing that I did make up and cast for it were the gabions.

J.D. I’m struck by the sense of motion. How much trial and error did it take to achieve that?

S.P. Very little. Usually, when I design a scene, I have mental image of the general flow of the action, and maybe one or two of the figures. I wanted the British recoiling back as the Americans poured over the parapet, creating a backward angle in the British, and a forward motion from the Americans. As I’ve said, with the general flow of motion in mind, I generally start with one figure and build the others around that, letting it develop from there.

J.D. Do you remember who “patient zero” was in this case?

S.P. No, I don’t. With the Americans, it’s probably the first guy coming over the parapet. But I may well have started with the British soldier firing his musket, and then the American pouring over the parapet would have been second, with the other figures following behind that.

J.D. The composition is really tight and seamless: You have two central British soldiers firing their muskets, which are pointing at the two Americans who are most animated and first in charging over the parapet. Then, everybody else frames the action. The other thing that strikes me is that this scene is all about the figures. Now, unlike a room, there were no set dimensions to dictate the size, so how do you know when you’re done? You could have stopped at six figures, or eight, or ten.

S.P. Well, there isn’t really anything here to distract you from the figures—there are no entertaining details like there are in the retreat from Moscow or the Rorke’s Drift piece. Again, I sort of started in the middle, with the central figures that you mentioned. Then I put in enough additional figures to show what’s going on, and I stopped.

J.D. Have you ever sculpted any figures for the boxes that you later figured out just didn’t fit?

S.P. Sometimes; I’ve got one or two figures still that are leftover from projects. I can think of a wounded British officer that was going to be used in the Franklin Mint Yorktown piece, and I ended up not using him because he was clearly being shot. Since the Americans attacked with unloaded muskets, they couldn’t have shot him, but he fit into the composition so beautifully! I took him out, but kept the figure because I hoped to incorporate him into something else at some other time.