Africa, Slavery and the British Regency were what John O'Neill Walsh and Robert Adams, the hero of Tahir Shah's first novel had in common. Inspired by a true story, Timbuctoo tells of a young American sailor, shipwrecked off the west coast of Africa. Captured by Moors, he begins a nightmarish journey through the Sahara, enduring privation, brutality, loneliness, terror and temptation. He manages to survive only because he succeeds in keeping alive hope of reaching home and being reunited with his dearly beloved wife, Christina.
When he is eventually redeemed from slavery by the English consul in the Moroccan town of Mogador, he is still unable to return directly to his homeland. England is at war with America, but it is through London he is fated to pass. Picked up, while destitute, by a wealthy Viscount, he is brought before the Royal Committee for Africa to relate his story. It was a time when the interior of the Dark Continent was still unknown. There was an illusion that everything in Timbuctoo was made from gold, and a lust to find the fabled city and exploit its wealth.
As Adams waits for the war between England and America to end, and for a ship to take him home, we are drawn with him deeper and deeper into a Regency London, convincingly depicted in great detail, but not quite the historical city of the time. We meet the rich and powerful with no conception of work, the numerous servants upon whom they rely but who are considered unworthy of notice, the scientific and literary elite represented by Joseph Banks, Lord Byron and Jane Austen, street urchins and ordinary Londoners who earn their living sometimes in very unorthodox ways. We find ourselves inside the doors of some of the grim institutions of the day, Bedlam, the Marshalsea prison, prison ships anchored in the Thames.
Timbuctoo has all the ingredients of a great story: unpredictable events, vivid description, unforgettable characters, humour, mystery. Like Shah's other work, it is rich in symbolism, but its unexpected twists and turns defeat the attempts of the rational mind to decode it. This is a book to be enjoyed while its wisdom is allowed to surface in its own good time.
Tahir Shah decided to publish this book himself, and those of us who looked at his Facebook page could follow the process. There is an electronic edition which costs less than a weekend newspaper. To accompany it there is a very well designed, visually appealing website (timbuctoo.com). The limited edition hardback, recently published, is unlike anything produced by conventional publishers for a couple of centuries. It weighs 2Kg, is made of top quality paper, has marbled endpapers, a silk bookmark and six maps each of which was folded by hand. This is a book which, not only has as its themes Love and Endurance, but was itself created through Love and Endurance.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Monday, July 16, 2012
The Oldest Book in the House
Always read an old book before you start a new one, C S Lewis once advised. About a week ago I found myself going to the shelf where the oldest book in the house stood unnoticed between dustings.
It's the book John Hawkesworth (1715 – 1773), writer and editor, was commissioned by the British Admiralty to write about the first voyage of Captain James Cook in the Endeavour to the South Seas. Given Cook's papers, but also the notebooks of ardent naturalist, Joseph Banks who was also on the voyage, he created an entertaining story told in first person as the commander. Cook returned in 1771, the book was published in 1773 and John Hawkesworth died the same year. He was aged 58, distressed, some would say, by the reception his last book received. Through his accounts of the customs of the people those on board the Endeavour met, he was accused of undermining public morality. Perhaps Cook's assertion that people with minimal material possessions appeared to be as happy as his wealthy compatriots, was also considered subversive.
This is a book that was published before the French Revolution, before the American War of Independence, before the rebellion of the United Irishmen. It comes from an age when sailors were flogged for petty theft and when marines jumped overboard rather than face the anger of fellow soldiers, who felt their honour was sullied by someone who stole a piece of pigskin. It also comes from a time before print was standardised. Capitals are occasionally written with great flourish, where ct occurs, the top of the c is joined by the finest of curves to the tip of the t, but the most striking difference to modern print is the existence of two forms of the letter s. The modern s occurs only in the terminal position in a word. Elsewhere s is denoted by a letter very similar to the modern f. This can be very confusing to someone from the twenty-first century. I was taken aback, when reading a passage about cooking a cuttlefish, until I realised that the organs on its tentacles were suckers.
This book also held surprises unconnected to the voyage of the Endeavour. Inside the leather cover, at the top, were two lines written in firm, male, forward-slanting handwriting. Although it is now barely legible I could read:
At the Halfmoon, Halfmoon Alley, Bishopsgate, London.
I took down my Visitors' London and found Bishopsgate in the East end, but there was no Halfmoon Alley leading from it. John solved the problem when he discovered that Liverpool Street Station now occupies the site where the Halfmoon and Halfmoon Alley once were.
The other surprise was a tiny piece of paper with the name, Thomas Graves, Royal Navy, written in fine Italics on two lines. Thomas Graves, born in Belfast in 1802, entered the navy in 1816. As Lieutenant in Adventure, he travelled to the South American Station before surveying Lough Neagh in 1831 and 1832. By 1836 he was in charge of his own ship undertaking survey work in the Mediterranean. He was a keen naturalist and brought with him someone who shared his passion, Edward Forbes.
In 1853 he was made Superintendent of the Ports of Malta, and it was here he died in 1856, stabbed in the stomach by an aggrieved Maltese boatman whose boat he had ordered to be tied up for fifteen days for having overcharged a passenger. The planks of the boat had dried up making it unseaworthy, and depriving its owner of a means of earning his living.
It's the book John Hawkesworth (1715 – 1773), writer and editor, was commissioned by the British Admiralty to write about the first voyage of Captain James Cook in the Endeavour to the South Seas. Given Cook's papers, but also the notebooks of ardent naturalist, Joseph Banks who was also on the voyage, he created an entertaining story told in first person as the commander. Cook returned in 1771, the book was published in 1773 and John Hawkesworth died the same year. He was aged 58, distressed, some would say, by the reception his last book received. Through his accounts of the customs of the people those on board the Endeavour met, he was accused of undermining public morality. Perhaps Cook's assertion that people with minimal material possessions appeared to be as happy as his wealthy compatriots, was also considered subversive.
This is a book that was published before the French Revolution, before the American War of Independence, before the rebellion of the United Irishmen. It comes from an age when sailors were flogged for petty theft and when marines jumped overboard rather than face the anger of fellow soldiers, who felt their honour was sullied by someone who stole a piece of pigskin. It also comes from a time before print was standardised. Capitals are occasionally written with great flourish, where ct occurs, the top of the c is joined by the finest of curves to the tip of the t, but the most striking difference to modern print is the existence of two forms of the letter s. The modern s occurs only in the terminal position in a word. Elsewhere s is denoted by a letter very similar to the modern f. This can be very confusing to someone from the twenty-first century. I was taken aback, when reading a passage about cooking a cuttlefish, until I realised that the organs on its tentacles were suckers.
This book also held surprises unconnected to the voyage of the Endeavour. Inside the leather cover, at the top, were two lines written in firm, male, forward-slanting handwriting. Although it is now barely legible I could read:
At the Halfmoon, Halfmoon Alley, Bishopsgate, London.
I took down my Visitors' London and found Bishopsgate in the East end, but there was no Halfmoon Alley leading from it. John solved the problem when he discovered that Liverpool Street Station now occupies the site where the Halfmoon and Halfmoon Alley once were.
The other surprise was a tiny piece of paper with the name, Thomas Graves, Royal Navy, written in fine Italics on two lines. Thomas Graves, born in Belfast in 1802, entered the navy in 1816. As Lieutenant in Adventure, he travelled to the South American Station before surveying Lough Neagh in 1831 and 1832. By 1836 he was in charge of his own ship undertaking survey work in the Mediterranean. He was a keen naturalist and brought with him someone who shared his passion, Edward Forbes.
In 1853 he was made Superintendent of the Ports of Malta, and it was here he died in 1856, stabbed in the stomach by an aggrieved Maltese boatman whose boat he had ordered to be tied up for fifteen days for having overcharged a passenger. The planks of the boat had dried up making it unseaworthy, and depriving its owner of a means of earning his living.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
John O'Neill Walsh Disappears from Freetown
'I feel so heartily sick and disgusted with the Commission Courts,' wrote an exasperated John O'Neill Walsh, 'that I am determined to interfere no further with them.'
The Portuguese brigantine, Gaviao, had been returned to her former owners even though the British Arbitrator admitted she had been slaving in a forbidden latitude. Not only that, she had been awarded over £1,500 in damages, a very considerable sum in 1821. No wonder John was upset. he was the agent and attorney for the Tartar, the British man-of-war which had captured the Gaviao on the Calabar River that flows into the Bight of Biafra.
Digby Marsh had been a lieutenant on the Tartar when he was ordered by his commander, Sir George Collier to proceed with a division of boats up the Calabar River as far as Duke Ephraim's village. On the way the pilot told him that two vessels were on the river looking for slaves. He saw a vessel and boarded it only to realise it was English and innocent; but his mistake alerted the Portuguese to his presence and, when he turned his attention to the Gaviao, he was just in time to see a canoe returning after landing two slaves in the bush. These and a third slave who remained on the ship had been bought from Duke Ephraim, an African chief, the previous day. Lieutenant Marsh and his men boarded the ship to find its slave decks laid and slave coppers and slave irons on board. Searching the hold, the third slave was seen being forced into a pair of trousers by a Portuguese sailor to make it appear he was one of the ship's crew.
When the Gaviao was captured she had on board up to a dozen hogs and three to four dozen fowl. Some of these were slaughtered to feed the four officers and up to forty seamen and marines who came on board the slave brigantine from the Tartar and her sister ship, the Thistle, and who also fed on the rice and spirits the Gaviao was carrying, while cassava and jerk beef were given to slaves who had been removed from the Constantia, another slave ship. The Mixed Commission Court in Freetown awarded the Gaviao's owners compensation for food consumed, but disallowed a claim for forty dozen sausages costing £37. 10s.
It was not just for food that the Portuguese were claiming. They sought compensation for damage to their ship's sails which occurred during the voyage, and for an anchor and thirty fathoms of grass cable lost during a tornado at Sierra Leone. 'Rubbish,' retorted James Hannah, the Prize master. The sails were left in better condition than they had been found, the anchor was much worn and the cable was rotten. Compensation was awarded.
There was still one more matter to be settled – compensation for the time the Gaviao was detained in Sierra Leone; and John O'Neill Walsh found he was being blamed for the delay. Had he not, after acting for the Captors at the start of the trial, written to the Registrar on 29th June stating he wanted nothing more to do with it, then left the colony without appointing a representative and only returned on 13th September? John would say he had no alternative. The master of the Gaviao had made villainous and false deposition and the presence of the Tartar's agent at the court would only add to the mass of perjury and inconsistency.
John was defended by Sir George Collier, who pointed out that his interference was forbidden by the Mixed Commission until his interference became useless by their having restored the Gaviao to its owners. John had been called on to produce evidence against the Portuguese when the same commission had disregarded that of Mr Hannah. Mr Walsh could do no more than resort to Mr Hannah.
The Portuguese brigantine, Gaviao, had been returned to her former owners even though the British Arbitrator admitted she had been slaving in a forbidden latitude. Not only that, she had been awarded over £1,500 in damages, a very considerable sum in 1821. No wonder John was upset. he was the agent and attorney for the Tartar, the British man-of-war which had captured the Gaviao on the Calabar River that flows into the Bight of Biafra.
Digby Marsh had been a lieutenant on the Tartar when he was ordered by his commander, Sir George Collier to proceed with a division of boats up the Calabar River as far as Duke Ephraim's village. On the way the pilot told him that two vessels were on the river looking for slaves. He saw a vessel and boarded it only to realise it was English and innocent; but his mistake alerted the Portuguese to his presence and, when he turned his attention to the Gaviao, he was just in time to see a canoe returning after landing two slaves in the bush. These and a third slave who remained on the ship had been bought from Duke Ephraim, an African chief, the previous day. Lieutenant Marsh and his men boarded the ship to find its slave decks laid and slave coppers and slave irons on board. Searching the hold, the third slave was seen being forced into a pair of trousers by a Portuguese sailor to make it appear he was one of the ship's crew.
When the Gaviao was captured she had on board up to a dozen hogs and three to four dozen fowl. Some of these were slaughtered to feed the four officers and up to forty seamen and marines who came on board the slave brigantine from the Tartar and her sister ship, the Thistle, and who also fed on the rice and spirits the Gaviao was carrying, while cassava and jerk beef were given to slaves who had been removed from the Constantia, another slave ship. The Mixed Commission Court in Freetown awarded the Gaviao's owners compensation for food consumed, but disallowed a claim for forty dozen sausages costing £37. 10s.
It was not just for food that the Portuguese were claiming. They sought compensation for damage to their ship's sails which occurred during the voyage, and for an anchor and thirty fathoms of grass cable lost during a tornado at Sierra Leone. 'Rubbish,' retorted James Hannah, the Prize master. The sails were left in better condition than they had been found, the anchor was much worn and the cable was rotten. Compensation was awarded.
There was still one more matter to be settled – compensation for the time the Gaviao was detained in Sierra Leone; and John O'Neill Walsh found he was being blamed for the delay. Had he not, after acting for the Captors at the start of the trial, written to the Registrar on 29th June stating he wanted nothing more to do with it, then left the colony without appointing a representative and only returned on 13th September? John would say he had no alternative. The master of the Gaviao had made villainous and false deposition and the presence of the Tartar's agent at the court would only add to the mass of perjury and inconsistency.
John was defended by Sir George Collier, who pointed out that his interference was forbidden by the Mixed Commission until his interference became useless by their having restored the Gaviao to its owners. John had been called on to produce evidence against the Portuguese when the same commission had disregarded that of Mr Hannah. Mr Walsh could do no more than resort to Mr Hannah.
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