I enjoyed reading John Robson’s article about James Trevenen,1 which I found on the Captain Cook Society website. I have been researching Trevenen’s life to help me with a novel I am writing about him, and can add to the information already published.
As Robson says, Trevenen sailed with Cook on the Third Voyage as a midshipman first in Resolution, and then in Discovery where he developed a firm and close friendship with her captain, James King. After the voyage Trevenen joined King in Crocodile as her first lieutenant, and then again in Resistance. Trevenen was with King at his death in 1784 in France. In 1787, Trevenen was engaged by the Russian Navy, and took part in naval actions with Swedish ships. Trevenen married Elizabeth Farquharson in Kronstadt in February 1789. They had one daughter, Elizabeth. In 1790, Trevenen was fatally wounded during the Battle of Viborg Bay while captain of Ne Tron Menya, and died at Kronstadt on 9 July 1790.
My researches show that Trevenen did not die in Kronstadt. He had wished to pass away there so that he might see his wife and infant daughter once more. However, despite the promise (and intention) of Admiral Povalishin, permission for this was not granted by Commander-in-Chief Chichagov.
At the same time, Trevenen’s ship (badly damaged in the battle against the Swedes at Vyborg) was entirely useless. She was in no condition to pursue the Swedes, especially given the absence of her severely wounded captain and his English first lieutenant, James Aiken Eiken (Ivan Ivanovich Ekin).
Trevenen died aboard his ship. His sword was taken to Empress Catherine the Great along with news of the victory and a report by Semyon Veliky (Trevenen’s lieutenant, and the illegitimate son of Paul I) of “my captain’s departure from Her Majesty’s service due to his death in action”—a report submitted at Trevenen’s own request while he was still alive. Judging by Trevenen’s correspondence and diaries, this young gentleman was very dear to him; he saw in him a future circumnavigator—not merely a sailor, but a man of science. However, Semyon Veliky died in the West Indies in 1794, apparently of yellow fever, while serving aboard HMS Vanguard during his training in Britain.
Volunteer Otto von Sass (the eldest son of Baron von Sass) was present during Trevenen’s final moments. It was this 17-year-old youth who left a detailed account of Trevenen’s last days. The body was transported to Kronstadt. The burial at Lutheran Cemetery is recorded as being 9 August 1790. The grave has not survived. Like many others, the cemetery was devastated following the 1917 Revolution.
After Trevenen’s death, his men (the lower ranks and warrant officers) asked the ship’s chaplain, Father Tikhon, to conduct a memorial service for “Jacob, of a different faith”. Father Tikhon was a native of Kargopol Uyezd and an educated man fluent in Ancient Greek. Trevenen used to play chess with him and highly valued his role on the ship, so much so that he had submitted a special request, with the chaplain’s own consent, to have him transferred to Ne Tron Menya (Touch Me Not). Father Tikhon and Trevenen served together for three campaigns. This detail is significant because few commanders, and especially not foreigners, held such sway over his men. During the Battle of Viborg Bay, Trevenen’s troops attempted to form a “human shield” to protect him. He subsequently “reprimanded them with authority yet gentleness”, telling them, “Brothers, remember: it is not you who exist for me, but I who exist for you”.
The Character of James Trevenen
James Trevenen, judging by the memoirs of those who knew him as long-standing companions or as casual acquaintances, was a man of outstanding virtues and talents. Most importantly, he possessed a nobility combined with a genuine human warmth, which he regarded merely as “a politeness that costs me nothing—a small price for the opportunity to do a good deed”. In his view, “active goodness” was the ultimate purpose and the very nerve of any man’s life, though this goal could be achieved in various ways. His own path, his “Aspiration” as he called it, was an insurmountable desire to sail, travel, improve, and explore. This calling often came into conflict with his deep affection for his family and friends (friendship was a true cult for him), and his “desire for quiet happiness”.
As a man of reflection, Trevenen was acutely aware of this inner conflict; the body of a naval officer housed the soul of a philosopher and a poet, a subtle connoisseur of art, and a lover of nature. It is no coincidence that the terms sublime and romantic appear so frequently in his diaries. Indeed, the few surviving poems that he wrote are quite remarkable.
However, Trevenen’s most exceptional gift was his ability to bring people together through the sheer force of his personality. “You may observe”, he wrote to his sister Elizabeth from Italy, “that not all my birds are Phoenices, but I am truly fortunate in my traveling companions, and I have never parted from any of them without regret”. Consequently, many were left to mourn him.
The statesman Edmund Burke, wrote about his admiration of Trevenen. “Trevenen in particular seemed to me to be marked for some extraordinary destiny. Captn Trevenen was not only an excellent Marine Officer but had an enlarged and powerful Mind, capable of any civil or political affairs—with the best air and manner of the world in his figure and Deportment. If I were to send an Embassador to any Court in Europe to give a good Idea of the Nation and to transact its affairs with Credit and success (where a person of the first Rank was not necessary) I should have fixed on Captn Trevenen. He was understood by others as well as by me”.2
The charm of Trevenen’s personality also warmed many from the “silent majority”, such as a shepherd from the Scottish Highlands, a little girl from Dovedale valley in England, and an apothecary from Padua in Italy. All of these people were remembered by Trevenen in his diary. Then there were the retired sailors from Rodislav, another Russian ship he commanded, to each of whom he paid several roubles out of his own by no means grand resources—their names are in his notebook.
Trevenen died when he was 30 years old, which was not a long life. Perhaps it did not unfold as it might have. Yet its significance lies not only in what was accomplished or left unfulfilled, nor is it about the “page in the Book of History” of which the young James dreamed during his boyhood years in Cornwall. Every day of his life was navigated on a true course, guided by the most precise chronometers of conscience and heart.
James Trevenen was a man of rare spiritual beauty.
Lada Syrovatko
References
- Robson, John. “James Trevenen (1760-1790)” in Cook’s Log. 2013. Vol. 36, no. 2. Pages 22–24.
- Marshall, PJ and John A. Woods (eds). The Correspondence of Edmund Burke. Vol. VII: January 1792-August 1794. Cambridge University Press. 1968. Appendix I.
Originally published in Cook's Log, page 5, volume 49, number 4 (2026).