Bailey 1

Devon Bailey

D. Lee

Engl 521

26 November 2010

The Influence of British Shipwreck Narratives

To begin my investigation of travel narratives in the early-nineteenth century, I perused titles. After trying to narrow my search based on location—I was looking for something unique—I came across a narrative titled A Diary of the Wreck of His Majesty’s Ship the Challenger, on the western coast of South America, in May, 1835. With an account of the subsequent encampment of the officers and crew, during a period of seven weeks, on the South Coast of Chili. So, while South America met my first criteria, since I was looking for locations that were not common (the Poles, the Indies, Africa), the second criteria was developed by my intrigue in the relation to first and most telling portion of the title, A Diary of the Wreck. In reality though, this first portion reveals two tantalizing details, the fact that the narrative will be in a diary format, therefore assumed as a first person narration, and that the subject of the narrative will be a shipwreck. At this point, I felt that I had found a diamond in the rough, with the level of intrigue I expected from a ship wreck. Little did I realize at the time, I had proven the publisher’s marketing techniques effective. What I had thought to be novel, a shipwreck narrative, turns out to be a commonplace in this period of travel narratives. Previously I had assumed that the main aim of travel narratives during the early-nineteenth century was scientific and ethnographic discovery, but in reality these narratives, while some are useful for such data, are meant to entertain and thus sell, first and foremost. It was not, upon reading A Diary of the Wreck that I came to this conclusion on entertainment, but only after reading an additional shipwreck narrative, Voyage of His Majesty’s Ship Alceste, along the Coast of Corea, to the Island of Lewchew; with an Account of her Subsequent Shipwreck, that I realized it was not the ethnographic details and cataloguing of plants and animals which so intrigued the reading audience. In contrast, it was the suffering, peril and uncertainty of a shipwreck which gave the literary niche its popularity. Furthermore, the fact that both of the aforementioned narratives involve British Naval ships furthers the connection to the plight of the sailors as representative of England and of its citizens. So while the narratives serve a mostly performance and entertainment function to the publishing world, they also inadvertently reveal real concerns about the romanticized dangers to sailors traveling in the early nineteenth-century. In other words, the intent of the authors of shipwreck narratives is to entertain and celebrate the reach and prestige of the British Navy and Britain as a nation, but the realities of the events in the narratives call into question the validity of the voyages when compared to the constant peril the sailors face.

For a more comprehensive understanding of the genre of shipwreck narratives, I turn to Carl Thompson, in his book The Suffering Traveler and the Romantic Imagination. Thompson details early in his introduction a description of “the best and properly ‘English’ sort of English traveler—as someone who courts adversity, who seeks out suffering and discomfort” (Thompson 2). This description allows us as readers to understand the reason for the intrigue of these stories, but also Thompson stresses the intent of the travelers, as he claims they purposely put themselves in danger to not only create a good story, but to create personal excitement as well. I believe this holds true for travelers who are personally funded or who put themselves in the care of benefactors in order to conduct these voyages, as Thompson suggests Shelley and Byron always were, but in regards to voyages and ships funded by the crown, the sailors are not necessarily looking for trouble, rather they are forced into perilous situations. In a later portion of his book, Thompson explains the practice of “Naval Impressment” which is similar to what we would identify as a draft, where young men were “pressed into the Navy” due to the national desire for dominance over other lands and over an understanding and mapping of the world’s waters (125). Additionally he explains a particular sailor, Wordsworth’s brother-in-law, Henry Hutchinson, who after being sent out on similar voyages, “eventually obtain[ed] his discharge and return[ed] home to tell horror stories about the cruelties of maritime life” (Thompson 125). This testimony from someone who is affected, but not able to prevent the peril that faced him, is more telling than accounts from those individuals who sought out dangerous travel. Thompson further describes the effects of forced service in the Navy during this time of global exploration in that the voyages “claimed to work a dangerous, brutalizing effect on the victim, whose sensibilities were supposedly coarsened both by his exposure to the horrors of war and by his subjection to harsh discipline” (125). Also, many saw the “legality of Impressment” as suspect since the forced service was “tantamount to enslavement or imprisonment” (Thompson 125). Given this historical interpretation then, it is fitting to look at narratives where the crew is made up of sailors and the objective of the journey is determined by, and the events are colored by, the fact that the ship is an HMS, His Majesty’s Ship, and is therefore bound in duty to Britain and the crown.

So, there are two realities at work within these travel narratives. First, the prior mentioned historical place and intent of the voyages, and then second, the “romantic” appeal of the created narrative which is used to cater to and further the romantic “valorizarion of the unpleasant, as opposed to pleasant” (Thompson 4). Just as I was looking for an “interesting” narrative when I came across A Diary of the Wreck, so to are the British consumers of travel narratives looking for an “interesting” account of travel. While, bits of ethnographic and scientific information within a narrative are expected and often interesting, there is clearly a tendency for the reader to want to read about accounts that are beyond new; they are exciting. This demand for excitement, however, is what fuels the booming publishers market, but also creates the demand for laws like Impressment since the crown needs bodies to man the ships. This is especially revealing given that so many sailors died of disease along their voyages. This caused voyages to be supplied with twice as many sailors as necessary, just so that upon returning to Britain there would still be enough sailors to operate the ship. So, in a way, the demand for interesting narratives, creates more danger—likely death—for sailors who may not have had a choice when they joined the Navy. What is wrong with our priorities that a period of massive death and disease is marked with a tradition of shallow intrigue in the consumption of travel narratives, and disastrous ones more specifically? This seems to be a case of ego or even hubris, where the most successful narrative would be one with the most untimely and horrific results due only to man’s desire to stretch his natural abilities in order to obtain global reach and domination over the seas. This is also seen as a specifically male-gendered notion, since the “set of creative, interpretative, and representational strategies [are] taken up for the most part by male writers and readers” (Thompson 6).

Since there are specific expectations for how the voyages will play out, before they occur, travel can also be seen as a “performed art” since “it has an aesthetic dimension” and “constitutes a deliberate attempt to shape both the experience and the self so that they fit a desired paradigm or template” (Thompson 8). The desired template then for my purpose here is the shipwreck narrative, and how the expectations of such narratives color not only the reality of the journey but how it is portrayed through the narrative and how it will be received when published afterwards. An example of a narrative’s performative awareness can be seen in Voyage of His Majesty’s Ship Alceste where before becoming shipwrecked, the sailors faked a leak aboard the ship in order to get onto land on the Grand island of Lew-chew for supplies. The natives had been adamant about not desiring visitors, so the sailors performed their fake plight by using “chain-pumps” which “being set to work threw out volumes of water on the main deck, to the great amazement of these people, who seem to sympathize very much with our misfortunes” M’Leod 68). The author, John M’Leod (surgeon aboard the Alceste), further explains that “this ruse was necessary to free their minds from that state of alarm” which is clearly created upon seeing a giant vessel approach their shores (68). Their performance of plight may be seen as ironic, since they do in fact later become shipwrecked after leaving the Island of Lew-chew, but at the time, the sailors were soliciting a topos of travel with the performance of a shipwreck, and thus a leaking hull. The ruse works and the sailors are allowed to come ashore for materials and supplies. Strangely enough this deceit is the foundation for all the geographic and ethnographic information which is acquired once they get ashore and are provided with shelter to house their supplies and officers; since supposedly they need somewhere dry. Thompson refers to this idea when he writes that “the Romantic traveller scripts his travels so that it will throw up unscripted events and experiences” (23). It is therefore the need to discover what is on land that requires the officers aboard the HMS Alceste to come up with a creative way to gain acceptance as people in need, rather than revealing their true intent, which is to gain ethnographic and geographic information and press their culture upon the Eastern coasts of Asia.

I will explain the importance of the M’Leod’s narrative at length later, but first I should address the issue of authorship and authority of travel narratives through looking at A Diary of the Wreck of His Majesty’s Ship the Challenger and its unique perspective as a narrative that is published authorless.

There is no author attributed to this shipwreck, encampment, and rescue narrative, but through handwritten notes at the beginning of the book and inferences throughout the book, I have determined the author is most likely J.P. Sarjeant, the purser on board the HMS Challenger when it wrecked off the western coast of Chili in South America. Since the narrative is written as a diary, with days and times noted for each entry, it is appropriate that the author would be a member of the crew. The purser however, is a unique rank/position in the navy who is required to take inventory of provisions and keep track of the individual crew’s health and all monetary transactions while on a sea voyage. Benjamin Homans describes the duties and challenges of a purser at sea in the 1838 Army and Navy Chronicle, which include “on arrival of the vessel at a foreign port, no matter what distance she may be anchored from the shore, or however boisterous may be the weather, to proceed immediately and make a contract for furnishing the crew with fresh provisions” (388). Within the narrative, there is a similar thread which explains how “an account of the whole of the provisions saved was carefully taken and such daily issues made to the crew, under the management of Mr. Sarjeant” (Diary 52). That is further evidence of the historical purpose of the purser and how Sarjeant explains his duties. In addition to cataloguing provisions, the purser “negotiates all kinds of exchange when abroad, and has the corresponding growing out of it to attend to” (Homans 388). It would be the job of the purser to insure that every sailor is accounted for, fed, and paid. This position therefore, explains the methodical perspective of the narrator who gives an exhaustive account of everything which took place during the seven weeks of encampment before they were rescued.

Further evidence within the narrative suggests J.P. Sarjeant is the author, especially in regards to tone. There is only one person in the narrative, which is written completely in third-person, who is personally celebrated within the text multiple times. For example, once they have become shipwrecked and manage to get ashore, the author notes that “we were indebted to the zealous exertions of Mr. Sarjeant, the purser, for our success, which is it be attributed, in great measure, to his perfect knowledge of the Spanish language and character” (Diary 20). This kind of overt congratulations is only used to describe the purser throughout the rest of the narrative, usually in reference to how important he is to the voyage. An additional such mention occurs when the author writes of Sarjeant’s continuous translating and how “his patience was sadly tried, from the unceasing calls made on his attention as spokesman,” which I believe reveals Sarjeant as the author, inserting his personal grievance, since no like personal matters are recorded from any other reference point (38). Then, again Sarjeant is mentioned specifically as “our excellent shipmate” and “caterer” who “under circumstances, so laborious and troublesome this duty, in a manner deserving the hearty thanks of his messmates” (54) If my assertions are accurate, then Sarjeant has strategically created a narrative without an author in order to bolster his own credentials and importance within the narrative, but without the appearance of arrogance. This could be an attempt to legitimize the weighted opinions of himself which are throughout the novel, or the lack of an author could be an attempt to generalize and unify the story, as if any of the sailors could have written it. While only Sarjeant knows his true intent, I think it is more likely that he is attempting to bolster his reputation in England by pointing to his significant role in acquiring rescue and insuring the survival of most of the sailors.

In addition to the textual mentions of J.P. Sarjeant, the first page of the book has a hand-written inscription which reads “Mr. Rev’d James Wenn from Mrs. David Hanbury November 1st 1839”, and the facing second page has an inscription which further reveals the previous and first owner as “Mr. David Hanbury” (Diary) Under his name there is a note which reads:

J.P. Sarjeant the purser named in this work a respected friend of the late David Hanbury called on him at Sudbury on Monday, July 25th 1836 and promised that he would send him “the Wreck of the Challenger” to read

This copy was found in David Hanbury’s great coat pocket after his death which took place on August 12th 1836 only 18 days after the day they had met. (Diary)

So, although it is unclear if Mr. Hanbury’s death had anything to do with the book—likely not—the inscription does give further credence to J.P. Sarjeant as the author, since he is taking it upon himself to distribute a copy to Mr. Hanbury. An effort to find more information about these historical individuals came up empty, but it is likely that Sarjeant was trying to create a prominent and respected image of himself to further his career.

To really understand this period of travel it is important to note the reason for the voyage in the first place. The HMS Challenger, commanded by Captain Michael Seymour, set out to travel from Rio de Janeiro on April 1st, 1835, on the east coast of South America, around the bottom tip and up the Pacific Ocean side of South America, to Concepcion and then Valparaiso, Chile. The author explains, “we hoped either to find the commodore commanding on the western coasts of South America, or directions for our further proceedings,” but when they rounded the southern tip of South America, also known as Cape Horn, “we experienced a severe gale” which resulted in the subsequent ship wreck just off the coast of Molquilla, south of their desired stop at the port of Concepcion. The narrative expresses no fault for the shipwreck other than weather, which is a field of research that the navy at this point in history has not mastered, but voyages like this one serve as catalogues for the eventual understanding and mapping of the world’s climates. Since this voyage, there have been hundreds of recorded shipwrecks in this same area due to the particular nautical and meteorological features Cape Horn possesses. Therefore it is unlikely that the wreck could have been avoided by anything, except the eventual research, Charles Darwin is simultaneously conducting, which reveals the nature of the storms and the atolls that cause the ships’ dismal fates.

The narrative, however, really begins once the crew has become shipwrecked, since they must get ashore before the ship sinks and they all drown. In an age without world-wide, instant communication, being shipwrecked before their destination means they will have to travel to their intended destination of Concepcion by land, in order to obtain assistance. The first deaths in the narrative are Mr. Gordon, a midshipman, and John Edwards, a seaman, who perished in the first boat to shore which capsized in the rough water. The sailors deaths are described as “melancholy accident,” but it was previously expressed that Mr. Gordon “a most zealous volunteer [. . .] anxiously sought the dangerous attempt of going in the first boat” to shore (Diary 14-15). Mr. Gordon’s desire to put himself in harm’s way is clearly indicative of the Romantic notion of purposefully putting yourself in peril in hope of future honor acquired through surviving the ordeal.