1793

Courtesy of the Print Collection, New York Public Library

A PEEP into the DRESSING ROOM, or HANDSOME LEG

290
Publish'd 1st Feby. 1793 by Robt. Sayer & Co. Fleet Street London

A young gentleman on his hands and knees peeps from behind a door into the dressing room where two young gentlewomen compare their calves. The seated young woman (l.)has crossed her ankle on her knee. The other, her shift loose to reveal her breasts, stands with her back to the voyeur and lifts her hem to reveal calf and ankle. A wall hanging or tapestry behind them shows a seated satyr in a landscape.

32 x 24 cm.
New York Public Library (title and print # only, Satyr p.224)

Courtesy of the Print Collection, Lewis Walpole Library, Yale University

GRETNA GREEN, or the RED-HOT MARRAIGE

277
Publish'd 27th March 1793 by Robt Sayer & Co Fleet Street London.

An army officer and young woman exchange wedding vows in a blacksmith shop. As the officer prepares to slip the ring on her finger, a blacksmith officiates in a tattered apron, stooped and hands together in prayer. He wears spectacles to read from the scripture open before him on the anvil. The subtext reads, "Oh Mr. Blacksmith ease our Pains--and Tye us fast in Wedlock's Chains." An officer's boy stands smiling behind the woman with his arms crossed and holding his hat in his right hand. Behind the ministering blacksmith, the ordinary business of the shop continues, as his boy/apprentice shoes a horse. Outside the shop can be seen a horse and carraige and in the distance, the tents and banners of a military encampment.

32.4 x 25.1 cm.
Harry Elkins Widener Collection, Houghton Library of the Harvard College Library (colour, dated "12 May 1794" and inscribed to Laurie & Whittle, HEW 13.8.3), Huntington Library(colour, BMX 1792 Pr.Box 211.7/32)), Lewis Walpole Library(795.0.3), (colour), Metropolitan Museum (colour)

Courtesy of the Print Collection, Lewis Walpole Library, Yale University

JACK IN HIS ELEMENT

301
Publish'd 17th June 1793 by Robt. Sayer & Co. Fleet Street London

The situation appears to be described in stanza #7 of the verse that follows, when Jack brings Poll word of the death of Will Gast. He speaks and gestures with his left hand. She stands in the open gate before her cottage, expression distraught, her hand to her forehead. Another young women who appears between them as she stands in the cottage yard, raises her hand in alarm. The women are simply dressed while Jack wears the flat hat, jacket, and billowly breeches of a sailor. To the right and in the distance, a ship rides at anchor.

Bold Jack the Sailor, here I come,
Pray how d'ye like my nib,
My trousers wide, my trampers rum,
My nab and flowing jib.//
I sails the seas from end to end,
And leads a joyous life,
In every mess I finds a friend,
In every port a wife.//
I've heard them talk of constancy,
Of grief and such like fun,
I've constant been to ten, cried I,
But never grieved for one.//
The flowing sails we tars unbend,
To lead a jovial life.
In every mess to find a friend,
In every port a wife.//
I've a spanking wife at Portsmouth gates,
A pigmy at Goree,
An orange-tawny up the straits,
A black at St. Lucie://
Thus whatsomedever course I bend,
I leads a jovial life,
In every mess I find a friend,
In every port a wife.//
Will Gast by Death was ta'en aback,
I came to bring the news,
Poll wimper'd sore, but what did Jack,
Why stood in William's shoes.//
She cut, I chased, but in the end,
She loved me as her life,
And so she got an honest friend,
And I a loving wife.//
Thus be we sailors all the go.
On fortune's seas we rub
We works, & loves, and fights the foe,
And drinks the generous bub.//
Storms that the mast to splinters rend,
Can't shake our jovial life,
In every mess we finds a friend,
In every port a wife.

28.9 x 25 cm.
Lewis Walpole Library (793.6.17.1)

Courtesy of the Print Collection, Lewis Walpole Library, Yale University

THE LITTLE FARTHING RUSH-LIGHT; or, THE WRY-MOUTH'D FAMILY

London. Published by Robt. Sayer & Co. Fleet Street, August 12th 1793

Five persons in nightshirts, among them two women, crowd into a bedchamber as one woman turns to the watchman (r.), dressed in boots and holding the rush-light which he appears about to extinguish. The woman, the man beside her, another behind them framed by the door look astonished. The watchman's lantern is at his feet on the hearth of the fireplace. The verse accompanying other surviving impressions tell how the newlyweds Sir Soloman and Lady Simon--then their cook, and coachman--all try unsuccessfully to blow out a rush-light, a greased wick that burns with a low glow in the master bedchamber. The watchman arrives at one in the morning and knows how to put out the rush-light by turning it down. "Wry-mouth" may suggest faces distorted by so much blowing.

Sir Soloman Simon when he did wed
Blush'd black as a crow,
his fair lady did blush light,
The clock struck twelve,
they were both tuck'd in Bed
In the Chimney in the Rush-light
A litle farthing Rush-light Fal lal lal lal la
A little farthing Rush-light//
Sir Soloman gave his lady a nudge
Cries he Lady Simon
there's vastly too much light
Then Sir Soloman says she,
to get up you can't grudge
And blow out the Rush-light
A litle farthing Rush-light Fal lal lal lal la
A little farthing Rush-light//
Sir Soloman then out of Bed pops his Toes
And vastly he swore, and very did curse light
And then to the Chimney Sir Soloman he goes
And he puff'd at the Rush-light
A litle farthing Rush-light Fal lal lal lal la
A little farthing Rush-light//
Lady Simons got out of her Night cap so neat
And over the carpet my Lady did brush-light
And there Sir Soloman she found in a heat
Puffing at the Rush-light
A little Farthing Rush-light
But neither of them both
Could blow out the Rush-light//
Sir Soloman and Lady their breath quite gone
Rang the Bells in a rage determin'd to crush light
Half asleep in his shirt then up came John
And he puff'd at the Rush-light
A little Farthing Rush-light
But neither of the three
Cou'd blow out the Rush-light//
Cook, coachee, Men & Maids very near all in buff
Come and swore in their lives they never met with such light
And each of the family by turns had a puff
At the little Farthing Rush-light
The curst Farthing Rush-light
But none of the family
Cou'd blow out the Rush-light//
The Watch man at last went by crying one. . .
worse light
Here the Watch man's come up, then you we might on
Then up came the Watch man the business was done
For he turn'd down the Rush-light
The little Farthing Rush-light Fal lal lal lal la
And he put out the Rush-light

28 x 25.2 cm.
Lewis Walpole Library (title only, no inscription, date, or verse, 790.0.8)

Courtesy of the Print Collection, Lewis Walpole Library, Yale University

THE LUCKY ESCAPE or JOLLY CARPENTER

306
Published 14th October 1793 by Robt. Sayer & Co. Fleet Street, London.

In front of their cottage, a young farmer bids farewell to his wife, who kneels, begging him not to go. His sailor friend appeals to him to embark on the naval vessel riding at anchor in the background far right. A caged bird hangs from the cottage door beside the door. In the foreground a hen and three chicks feed. The farmer's plough lies to the right. The poem tells of the ploughman's leaving and return.

1 I that once was a ploughman, a sailor am now,
No lark that, aloft in the sky,
Ever flutter'd his wings to give speed to the plough
Was so gay or so careless as I.
But my friend was a carfindo aboard a king's ship,
And he ax'd me to go just to sea for a trip,
And he talk'd such things,
As if sailors were kings,
And so coaxing did keep,
That I left my poor plough, to go ploughing the deep.
No longer the horn
Call'd me up in the morn,
I trusted the carfindo and the inconstant wind,
That made me for to go and leave my dear behind.//
2 I did not much like for to be aboard a ship,
When in danger there's no door to creep out:
I liked the jolly tars, I liked bumbo and flip,
But I did not like rocking about.
By and by comes a hurricane.
I did not like that,
Next a battle, that many a sailor laid flat;
Ah, cried I, who would roam,
That like me had a home,
Where I'd sow and I'd reap,
Ere I left my poor plough, to go ploughing the deep,
Where sweetly the horn
Call'd me up in the morn,
Ere I trusted the carfindo and the inconstant wind,
That made me for to go and leave my dear behind.//
3 At last safe I landed, and in a whole skin,
Nor did I make any long stay,
Ere I found by a friend, whom I ax'd for my kin,
Father dead, and my wife run away.
Ah who by thyself, said I, hast thou to blame,
Wives losing their husbands oft lose their good name,
Ah why did I roam,
When so happy at home,
Ere I left my poor plough, to go ploughing the deep,
When so sweetly the horn
Call'd me up in the morn:
Curse light upon the carfindo and the inconstant wind,
That made me for to go and leave my dear behind.//
4 Why if that be the case, said this my same friend,
And you ben't no more minded to roam,
Tis a shake by your fist, all your care's at an end,
Dad's alive and your wife's safe at home.
Stark staring with joy, I leapt out of my skin,
Buss'd my wife, mother, sister, and all of my kin,
Now, cried I, let them roam,
Who want a good home;
I am well, so I'll keeps,
Nor again leave my plough to go ploughing the deep,
Once more shall the horn,
Call me up in the morn,
Nor shall any carfindo, nor the inconstant wind,
E're tempt me for to go, and leave my dear behind.

29.1 x 24.8 cm.
Lewis Walpole Library (colour, 793.10.24.2), Huntington Library (colour, "Published 12th May 1794 by Laurie & Whittle, 53 Fleet Street, London," BMX 1794 Pr.Box 211.26/65)

Courtesy of the Colonial Williamsburg Foundation

MAIL COACH BREAKFAST

312
Published 23d Decr 1793 by Robt Sayer & Co. Fleet Street, London

Three men and a lady, all variously dressed for travel, sit around a table eating and drinking. The man entering (l.) lifting his hat is probably the coachman signaling their departure. The humor is in this 18th-Century version of fast food, grabbing a hasty bite on the road, possibly the inconvenience assumed when riding a commercial coach.

31.3 x 23.6 cm.
Colonial Williamsburg Foundation(colour, 1962-291)