Crusoe visits the Spanish Ship (facing page 124) — the volume's thirty-fourth composite wood-block engraving for Defoe's The Life and Strange Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe of York, Mariner. Related by himself (London: Cassell, Petter, and Galpin, 1863-64). Chapter XIII, "Wreck of a Spanish Ship." In the midst of his apprehensions about unwelcome visitors, Crusoe fortuitously acquires further supplies of ammunition and powder. Full-page, framed: 14 cm high (including caption) x 22 cm wide, including the border of rope and seaweed. Running head: "Robinson Resolves to Visit the Wreck" (page 125).

Scanned image and text by Philip V. Allingham. [You may use this image without prior permission for any scholarly or educational purpose as long as you (1) credit the person who scanned the image and (2) link your document to this URL in a web document or cite the Victorian Web in a print one.]

The Passage Illustrated

Encouraged by this observation, I resolved the next morning to set out with the first of the tide; and reposing myself for the night in my canoe, under the watch-coat I mentioned, I launched out. I first made a little out to sea, full north, till I began to feel the benefit of the current, which set eastward, and which carried me at a great rate; and yet did not so hurry me as the current on the south side had done before, so as to take from me all government of the boat; but having a strong steerage with my paddle, I went at a great rate directly for the wreck, and in less than two hours I came up to it. It was a dismal sight to look at; the ship, which by its building was Spanish, stuck fast, jammed in between two rocks. All the stern and quarter of her were beaten to pieces by the sea; and as her forecastle, which stuck in the rocks, had run on with great violence, her mainmast and foremast were brought by the board — that is to say, broken short off; but her bowsprit was sound, and the head and bow appeared firm. When I came close to her, a dog appeared upon her, who, seeing me coming, yelped and cried; and as soon as I called him, jumped into the sea to come to me. I took him into the boat, but found him almost dead with hunger and thirst. I gave him a cake of my bread, and he devoured it like a ravenous wolf that had been starving a fortnight in the snow; I then gave the poor creature some fresh water, with which, if I would have let him, he would have burst himself. After this I went on board; but the first sight I met with was two men drowned in the cook-room, or forecastle of the ship, with their arms fast about one another. I concluded, as is indeed probable, that when the ship struck, it being in a storm, the sea broke so high and so continually over her, that the men were not able to bear it, and were strangled with the constant rushing in of the water, as much as if they had been under water. Besides the dog, there was nothing left in the ship that had life; nor any goods, that I could see, but what were spoiled by the water. There were some casks of liquor, whether wine or brandy I knew not, which lay lower in the hold, and which, the water being ebbed out, I could see; but they were too big to meddle with. I saw several chests, which I believe belonged to some of the seamen; and I got two of them into the boat, without examining what was in them. Had the stern of the ship been fixed, and the forepart broken off, I am persuaded I might have made a good voyage; for by what I found in those two chests I had room to suppose the ship had a great deal of wealth on board; and, if I may guess from the course she steered, she must have been bound from Buenos Ayres, or the Rio de la Plata, in the south part of America, beyond the Brazils to the Havannah, in the Gulf of Mexico, and so perhaps to Spain. She had, no doubt, a great treasure in her, but of no use, at that time, to anybody; and what became of the crew I then knew not. [Chapter XIII, "Wreck of a Spanish Ship," p. 128-30]

Commentary

Thus far in the narrative-pictorial sequence, the house artists have already provided three large-scale illustrations of shipwrecks:

Indeed, if one regards shipping, shipwrecks, the sea, and sailors as a construct behind the illustrations, about thirty per cent of the Cassell's illustrations are associated with such a motif. A further twenty percent of the narrative-pictorial series involves foreigners and foreign locales. These melancholy events do not merely represent threats of the colonial and imperial enterprise and its inherent perils; they underscore the power of nature to frustrate human designs. Lest 21st century readers regard this repetition of maritime catastrophes with some skepticism, such periodicals as The Illustrated London News during the mid-Victorian period attest to the frequency of such wrecks, often as a result of storms. The year 1859 had proven especially perilous for British shipping.

Although shipwrecks in the age of Daniel Defoe, prior to the accurate mapping of shoals and the widespread construction of lighthouses, were​ all too common, as the British in the nineteenth century engaged in such preventitive measures, the number of catastrophic incidents declined. However, as The Illustrated London News for the 1850s and 1860s shows, hurricane force winds could still force even fairly large merchant vessels on the rocks, as in The Wreck of the "Royal Charter" on the Coast of Anglesea, near Moelfre Five Miles from Point Lynas Lighthouse (5 November 1859). The Cassell's house-artists appear to have based both shipwreck compositions on actual shipwrecks depicted in the pages of The Illustrated London News, such as Wreck of an Indiaman." — From a Picture by Mr. Daniell (16 February 1859).

What distinguishes this particular wreck from the others in the book is the tranquil atmosphere, for no storm rages, no waves engulf the vessels, and drowning sailors do not cling to spars. Although the recent storm has hurled the vessel onto the rocks in the centre of the composition, the Spanish merchant-ship remains more or less intact, except for its main-mast. The illustrator juxtaposes the ornate transom (left) and the unadorned but functional little dugout (right). In the disaster panorama Crusoe, too, seems insignificant as he attempts to assess the advisability of going aboard, and ponders the fate of the galleon's crew. The text reminds post-eighteeth-century readers that the Caribbean served as the waterway between Spain and a whole series of Spanish colonies in Latin America.

Related Material

Bibliography

Defoe, Daniel. The Life and Strange Surprising Adventures of Robinson Crusoe of York, Mariner. Related by himself. With upwards of One Hundred Illustrations. London: Cassell, Petter, and Galpin, 1863-64.


Last modified 16 March 2018