Today, in our traditional column "Exhibit in Detail", we present a story about a crater-shaped vase with removable lid, presented to the captain of the sloop Rhodian, John George Boss, Esq.

In the history of the decorative arts, there are monuments where flawless artistic execution blends with the spirit of true maritime adventure. One such object is a presentation silver crater-vase with a removable lid, crafted in London in 1812–1813 and now stored in the museum "Collection". This masterpiece narrated a story of bravery, a lost ship, historical upheavals, and the greatest artisan of the Regency era.

In the summer of 1812, while the War of 1812 was underway across the Atlantic, the Napoleonic Wars were raging in Europe. John George Boss, captain of the British sloop Rhodian, received order to escort a merchant convoy off the coast of Cuba. On June 28, two French privateers intercepted the merchants, expecting easy prey. Captain Boss engaged in battle: during a fierce artillery duel, the British sloop completely destroyed both enemy ships and saved the merchants' valuable cargo.

Less than a year later, in February 1813, the sloop Rhodian struck reefs near Jamaica and sank. Once again, Captain Boss demonstrated remarkable composure, saving both his entire crew and the government treasury filled with silver. Deeply grateful, the ship-owners and merchants resolved to immortalize the captain's heroism. They commissioned a presentation cup from the empire's most expensive and fashionable silversmith of the day – Paul Storr (1770-1844).
The vase is crafted in the form of a kylix-krater – a specific type of ancient Greek vessel that combines a deep bowl for mixing wine (a krater) with the elegant, low-slung horizontal handles typical of a drinking cup (a kylix). The finest silversmith of the Regency era and supplier to the royal court, Paul Storr did not merely replicate the ancient earthenware forms; he masterfully adapted them to the brilliance and malleability of precious metal. While the handles of an original Greek ceramic kylix-krater are sleek, minimalist arcs, Storr succeeded in transforming them into a lavish sculptural adornment. Heavy, intertwined grapevines emerge from the lower part of the bowl, concealed by relief leaves and clusters, before gracefully sweeping upward to literally "fuse" with the smooth rim of the vase, creating the impression that the vessel is entwined by a living plant.

An ancient kylix-krater was a utilitarian vessel of moderate height. Storr, however, was creating a celebratory monumental cup. He made the bowl deeper and more massive to ensure there was ample space for a lengthy presentation inscription, and set the krater upon a powerful stepped foot that visually elevated the vase. To prevent the massive silver form from appearing monolithic and heavy, the silversmith flawlessly distributed the visual accents. The lower third of the bowl is adorned with a lush, chased relief of acanthus leaves–a classic ancient symbol of triumph. The central band, by contrast, is left perfectly smooth and polished to a mirror finish. Against this contrast, the calligraphic engraving recounting Captain Boss’s exploit immediately commands all attention.

The ancient Greeks did not cover kraters with lids, as they needed to constantly ladle wine from them. Storr, however, augmented the form with a massive removable lid featuring a fluted pattern and an elegant cast finial. The master lined the interior of the bowl with a thick layer of gilding–its warm shimmer contrasts strikingly with the cold, mirror-like brilliance of the polished silver exterior. Stamped on the bottom of the vase and on the removable lid is the "P.S." hallmark belonging to Paul Storr, who in those years was the chief master of the legendary firm Rundell, Bridge & Rundell. The silversmith did not resort to stamping: all the sculptural elements of the cup were cast separately and then finished by hand with a chasing tool to absolute perfection. The vase has come down to us in its original wooden case, lined with fabric inside, which helped the silver avoid scratches and scuffs in the cabins and drawing rooms of the 19th century.

The subsequent fate of John George Boss (1781–1837) proved to be no less fascinating. Years after receiving the commemorative vase, the brave mariner left active service with the rank of captain and traded the ship's deck for a seat in the British House of Commons.