Henry Glassie wrote that while historical literature preserves the history of an aristocratic few, the history of most people is preserved in unwritten artifacts. Those who preserve their own lives in text present themselves as they want to be seen. If one looks closely enough, an artifact tells a similar story, but much more pointedly and accurately so, without presumption and prejudice. In this there is a certain truth inherent to the artifact that cannot be assumed in text. For the dockyard workers who designed and crafted the weapons of war, and for the sailors who clambered about in the rigging, the sail stands as testimony to their way of life. The subtleties of their lives can be inferred from a close examination of the material makeup of the artifact. The mind wanders to the seamstress dimensioning and cutting the fabric, the petrified boy clinging to the canvas on his first climb into the rigging.
It is not difficult to think of the Fore Topsail of the H.M.S. Victory as a piece of material culture given the above scope. Certainly, it has an everyday quality. The simplicity of the canvas testifies to its ruggedness and functionality. If, as Glassie writes, material culture is the 'study of patterns' then a break from this methodology begins to occur. For in this aspect the topsail stands alone. It is not one in a series of similar elements which can be scrutinized and understood as individuals composing a larger group. And it is this that is the primary tool of material culture, the base method by which the truth within objects is revealed. While the secrets of an individual item may be extracted with difficulty, when held up against its predecessors and successors, larger patterns begin to emerge. Failing a larger cross section of similar objects, the methodology of material culture begins to fall apart.
It is the singularity of the topsail that presents problems with this type of analysis. Paradoxically, it is this singularity that also gives the sail much of its historical significance. In the era of square sailed ships, literally acres and acres of sailcloth were churned out by the dockyard for ships of the line and sloops alike, all without much fanfare. Despite such a production volume, very little physical evidence remains of the process today. This factor alone lends some importance to the Victory Fore Topsail.
Gradually, the realization is made that the power of the Victory Fore Topsail does not rest solely in the qualities espoused by the material culture methodology. While it is true that it does represent the physical remnant of the everyman in a real way, its meaning far transcends this attribute. Ultimately, this power is derived from an elusive historical happenstance created by the events of Trafalgar. Imagine in this sense the different meaning to be attributed to the sail had Trafalgar turned out in some other way; an English loss, a stalemate, or particularly the survival of Nelson. Even more extreme, what would the significance of the sail be had it not been rigged atop the Victory that day? Clearly, the significance of the sail rests more in it presence at a particular event than the particulars of its workmanship.
The ability of historical circumstance to transform an everyday object into an icon is very much worthy of study. The Levi-Strauss concept of 'history as myth' in modern society offers a pertinent explanation for fascination with the topsail. History forges new creation myths for those societies which, often for the worse, judge themselves too 'advanced' to believe in myth itself. In this sense, history acts as a subtle surrogate for larger unspoken beliefs. The fervor of the patriot is the natural result, as this trait most often exhibits itself as nationalistic (some would argue nacissistic) pride. History and myth in this sense are not inherently opposite, in fact, they complement each other well. The modern societal perspective on the events of Trafalgar prove that. In many cases, it is true that historical fact gradually become hyperbolized with the passage of time into a fictionalized version ot itself. The sheer number of visitors to the Historic Dockyard suggest that something beyond a mere collection of artifacts is found there, lending credibility to its 'mythical' appeal.
It is also surprising to note that a large number of tourists drawn to the site are not from the British Isles. Certainly, the vast amount of passenger ferry traffic from continental Europe bears some responsibility. Were the dockyard a symbol only of national pride, such numbers of international tourists, particularly French, would likely not be attracted. This observation speaks of the appeal of the dockyard beyond any national concerns to its larger, human aspect. As the oldest (and arguably only) completely preserved dockyard from the age of sail, it relates to many visitors the way of life in their own cities during that era. Regardless of nationality, the life of the sailor and the dockyard are intriguing in their universality.
As a piece of material culture, the fore topsail of the H.M.S. Victory is characterized by duality. Perhaps the best description for it is an ordinary object elevated to mythical status. Its strong romantic appeal rests in the idea that the work and deeds of average persons, labourers, and sailors can play a pivotal role in history. With this realization, the sacrifices made by Nelson and untold numbers of his men are remembered in this simple object.
