Robinson Crusoe, Plate III, 1781

Plate III to Robinson Crusoe, engraved by James Heath after Thomas Stothard for Novelists' Magazine, 1781, British Museum.

Early in Daniel Defoe's The Life and Adventures of Robinson Crusoe, the title character is captured in North Africa and held in bondage for two years. After gaining the trust of a young boy, Crusoe contrives an escape plan that involves tossing another over the side of their small fishing boat:

I stepped forward to where the Moor was, and making as if I stooped for something behind him, I took him by surprise with my arm under his waist, and tossed him clear overboard into the sea.  He rose immediately, for he swam like a cork, and called to me, begged to be taken in, told me he would go all over the world with me.  He swam so strong after the boat that he would have reached me very quickly, there being but little wind; upon which I stepped into the cabin, and fetching one of the fowling-pieces, I presented it at him, and told him I had done him no hurt, and if he would be quiet I would do him none. “But,” said I, “you swim well enough to reach to the shore, and the sea is calm; make the best of your way to shore, and I will do you no harm; but if you come near the boat I’ll shoot you through the head, for I am resolved to have my liberty;” so he turned himself about, and swam for the shore, and I make no doubt but he reached it with ease, for he was an excellent swimmer.

The catalog entry at the British Museum mistakenly attributes the figure in the water as Friday, the companion of Crusoe when he is later stranded on a desolate island. No such event as depicted here occurs with Friday.

Crusoe wears a Canadian cap (rather warm for the Mediterranean), a jacket with closed scalloped mariners cuffs and slit waist pockets. He also wears oddly striped trousers that gradually change from the cuffs to the waist horizontal to vertical. These trousers end about the middle of the calf.

Greenwich Hill or Holyday Gambols, 1770's

Greenwich Hill or Holyday Gambols, William Humphrey, 1770's, British Museum.

The British Museum dates this piece to between 1740-1765. I disagree, because Humphrey wasn't born until 1745, and moved into his shop at 227 Strand (as advertised at the top of the print) around 1777. Elements of this print appear to be copied in C. Sheppard's 1786 print Greenwich Park, and so I would date it between 1777-1786, though leaning toward the 1770's due to the fashions of the men and women depicted.

At the bottom of the print are a few lines of strained prose extolling the unbuttoned fun that Greenwich could provide:

Ye sweetscented Sirs who are sick of the Sport
And the state languid follies of Ballroom or Court,
For a Change leave the Mall & to Greenwich resort,
There heighten'd with Raptures, which never can pall,
You'l own, the Delights of Assembly and Ball,
Are as dull as Yourselves & just nothing at all.

In the foreground on the right, a sailor dances with a pretty lass, to the delight of a gathered crowd and the music of a blind pensioner. The sailor's blue jacket with buttoned mariner's cuffs is piped with tape through the seams, and he is without a waistcoat. He wears the rare striped petticoat trousers and tucks a stick under his arm. Atop his bob wig is a cocked hat tripped with white tape.

Behind the dancing couple are a few more mariners. One wears a suit with a reversed cockated hat, another is in a single breasted waistcoat, jacket, trousers, and cocked hat. Another rests on the ground in his jacket and neckcloth.

Groups of men and women run and tumble down the hill, with sailors interspersed among them. These two wear the same slop clothes: cocked hat, jacket, trousers that end about the top of the calf, and without waistcoats. One carries a stick.

A brave tar leads the way here, waving his cocked hat as his neckcloth flutters from his neck. He wears a jacket, no waistcoat, and petticoat trousers.

This odd looking fellow wears a Canadian cap, a large white neckcloth tied loosely, a single breasted jacket, and petticoat trousers. I'm not sure what to make of his stockings. They might be loose gaiters of some sort. He leans on the eighteenth century sailor's ever trusty companion: a stick.

The Launch of the North West America at Nootka Sound, British Columbia, 1790

"The Launch of the North West America at Nootka Sound, British Columbia, 1788," Robert Pollard, 1790, Toronto Public Library.

Taken from the book Voyages Made in the Years 1788 and 1789, from China to North West America, this plate purports to show "the first Vessel that was ever built in that part of the Globe," despite showing a Nootka vessel in the middle foreground.

Though not so ceremonial as you'd see at the slipways of Deptford, the naval personnel present do their best to give it a sense of gravity. Clouds of smoke, perhaps from firing a salute, cloud the ground behind the stern of the North West America. Among the clouds stands a pair of naval officers. At the stern of the vessel, and clutching the flagstaff, is a common tar.

Jack wears a fur Canadian cap atop his head, and a double breasted jacket (that ends at his waist) buttoned shut. Broad fall white trousers, closely fitted to his legs, finish his slop clothes.

The Departure of S.W. Prentice and Five Others from their Shipwrecked Companions, 1784

The Departure of S.W. Prentice and Five Others from their Shipwrecked Companions, 1781, Robert Pollard, 1784, Toronto Public Library.

Ensign Prentice (sometimes spelled "Prenties") was an officer in the 84th Regiment of Foot, the Royal Highland Emigrants. In November of 1780, Prentice was ordered to carry dispatches from General Haldimand from Quebec to Sir Henry Clinton in New York.  Departing aboard the brigantine St. Lawrence, the voyage was expected to be a short one. Unfortunately, St. Lawrence was not up to the job. Taking on water as she sailed in "intensely cold" weather, the crew early on despaired to the point of mutiny. A snowy gale eventually overwhelmed captain and crew. Early on the morning of December 5, 1781, the St. Lawrence was pooped and abandoned. Thus began a story of survival on the frozen Canadian shore.

Prentice's recollections were published the next year as "Narrative of a Shipwreck on the Island of Cape Breton, in a Voyage from Quebec, 1780." While you can read the Narrative in its full at Archive.org, be warned that a critic in the London Review for August, 1782 deemed it "often vulgar, sometimes silly, and always insipid."

Regardless of Prentice's failures with prose, Robert Pollard found enough inspiration in the story to compose this print of Ensign Prentice's departure to seek help for the starving and freezing tars. On January 4th, Prentice and a few others piled into the surviving boat to try for safety and rescue for their companions. They would not reach it for months. In the meantime, Prentice would wander the seas, contemplate cannibalism, and make contact with native peoples.

Gathered about him at the beginning of his harrowing journey, sailors clasp their hands and look with pleading faces to the brave young army officer, while others manage the boat against the harsh sea.

Ashore are a number of unfortunate jacks. Those closest to us are rather pitiful looking, but their clothing doesn't much show it. All wear trousers and jackets. One, to the left and with his stick across his lap, appears to be wearing a smock with a short collar. In the middle kneels a tar with a Canadian cap and striped trousers. The others wear short caps, possibly knit of linen working caps. Of the seven or so sailors visible in this scene three carry walking sticks, and a four has a stick nearby which appears to be a makeshift walking stick.

The numerous instances of sailors ashore depicted with sticks was a great surprise to me when I got a few months into this blog. This image, perhaps more than any other, shows just how important this accessory was to Jack Tar. Starving, freezing, and despairing to the point of death, they still cling to their sticks. One appears to have even taken the time and energy to fashion his own out of the barren landscape.

Loading and manning the boat are a few more sailors. At the tiller is a rather well dressed man, who might well be the hapless captain of the St. Lawrence. The other tree are clearly sailors. Furthest forward is a man in petticoat trousers that run to the top of the thigh, showing off his dark stockings. His jacket is clearly tucked into the petticoat trousers. He wears a round hat with a narrow brim, possibly bound in matching tape.

The two other sailors wear single breasted jackets and white neckcloths. The one standing wears a pair of trousers with a broad fall, and his jacket ends right at the waist. His hat might be a cocked hat, but it is difficult to tell. His mate wears a round hat with a narrow brim, falling back on his head.

Banyan Day or the Knight Befoul'd, 1779

Banyan Day or the Knight Befoul'd, Thomas Cowley, 1779, British Museum.

Cowley does not rank among the most skilled political cartoonists of the eighteenth century. His works are simplistic and often a bit awkward. In this example, two sailors and an officer push a gentleman into a "Burgoo Tub."That gentleman is probably Sir Hugh Palliser. He has been dressed up a bit with a French style wig to imply duplicity.

Published in February of 1779, this cartoon is weighing in strongly on behalf of Admiral Augustus Keppel at the height of the Keppel-Palliser Affair. You can read more about that event in this previous post on British Tars.

The sailor on the far left wears what appears to be a Canadian cap, fringed along the brim with fur and topped with a ball of the same. His hair is pretty long, hanging over the shoulders. The jacket clasps with four buttons across, running all the way down the front. Side pockets are obvious on his white trousers. White stockings and pointed toe shoes with oval buckles complete his outfit.

On the far right, grasping the gentleman by the hair and dunking him into the tub, another tar wears a cocked hat, and a black neckcloth. His jacket is double breasted with slash cuffs buttoned up. Hde wears a pretty typical pair of petticoat trousers that end just below the knee. Beyond that he wears white stockings, pointed toe shoes, and rectangular buckles. In his right hand he clasps a log book with a weight attached to it, perhaps an indication of cowardice on the part of Palliser.