JONATHAN HARADEN, PRIVATEERSMAN
(1776-1782)
The United States navy, with its wealth of splendid tradition, has few
more commanding figures than Captain Jonathan Haraden, the foremost
fighting privateersman of Salem during the Revolution, and one of the
ablest men that fought in that war, afloat or ashore. His deeds are
well-nigh forgotten by his countrymen, yet he captured one thousand
cannon in British ships and counted his prizes by the score.
Jonathan Haraden was born in Gloucester, but as a boy was employed
by George Cabot of Salem and made his home there for the remainder
of his life. He followed the sea from his early youth, and had risen
to a command in the merchant service when the Revolution began. The
Massachusetts Colony placed two small vessels in commission as State
vessels of war, and aboard one of these, the _Tyrannicide_, Jonathan
Haraden was appointed lieutenant. On her first cruise, very early in
the war, she fought a king’s cutter from Halifax for New York. The
British craft carried a much heavier crew than the _Tyrannicide_, but
the Yankee seamen took her after a brisk engagement in which their
gunnery was notably destructive.
Soon after this, Haraden was promoted to the command of this audacious
sloop of the formidable name, but he desired greater freedom of
action. A Salem merchant ship, the _General Pickering_, of 180 tons,
was fitting out as a letter of marque, and Haraden was offered the
command. With a cargo of sugar, fourteen six-pounders and forty-five
men and boys he sailed for Bilboa in the spring of 1780. This port of
Spain was a popular rendezvous for American privateers, where they were
close to the British trade routes. During the voyage across, before his
crew had been hammered into shape, Haraden was attacked by a British
cutter of twenty guns, but managed to beat her off and proceeded on his
way after a two hours’ running fight.
He was a man of superb coolness and audacity and he showed these
qualities to advantage while tacking into the Bay of Biscay. At
nightfall he sighted a British privateer, the _Golden Eagle_,
considerably larger than the _Pickering_, and carrying at least eight
more guns. Instead of crowding on sail and shifting his course to avoid
her, he set after her in the darkness and steered alongside. Before the
enemy could decide whether to fight or run away Haraden was roaring
through his speaking trumpet:
“What ship is this? An American frigate, Sir. Strike, or I’ll sink you
with a broadside.”
The British privateer skipper was bewildered by this startling summons
and surrendered without firing a shot. A prizemaster was put on board
and at daylight both vessels laid their course for Bilboa. As they
drew near the harbor, a sail was sighted making out from the land. All
strange sails were under suspicion in that era of sea life, and Captain
Haraden made ready to clear his ship for action even before the English
captain, taken out of the prize, cheerfully carried him word that he
knew the stranger to be the _Achilles_, a powerful and successful
privateer hailing from London, carrying more than forty guns and at
least a hundred and fifty men. The description might have been that
of a formidable sloop of war rather than a privateer, and the British
skipper was at no pains to hide his satisfaction at the plight of the
Yankee with her fourteen six-pounders and her handful of men.
At the sight of an enemy thrice his fighting strength, Captain Haraden
told the English captain:
“Be that as it may, and you seem sure of your information, I sha’n’t
run away from her.”
The wind so held that the _Achilles_ first bore down upon the prize
of the _Pickering_ and was able to recapture and put a prize crew
aboard before Captain Haraden could fetch with gunshot. With a British
lieutenant from the _Achilles_ in command, the prize was ordered to
follow her captor. It was evident to the waiting Americans aboard the
_Pickering_ that the _Achilles_ intended forcing an engagement, but
night was falling and the English privateer bore off as if purposing to
convoy her prize beyond harm’s way and postpone pursuit until morning.
The hostile ships had been sighted from Bilboa harbor where the
_Achilles_ was well known, and the word swiftly passed through the
city that the bold American was holding pluckily to her landfall as
if preparing for an attempt to recapture her prize. The wind had
died during the late afternoon and by sunset thousands of Spaniards
and seamen from the vessels in the harbor had swarmed to crowd the
headlands and the water’s edge where they could see the towering
_Achilles_ and her smaller foe “like ships upon a painted ocean.”
An eye witness, Robert Cowan, said that “the _General Pickering_ in
comparison to her antagonist looked like a long boat by the side of a
ship.”
Because of lack of wind and the maneuvers of the _Achilles_, Captain
Haraden thought there was no danger of an attack during the night, and
he turned in to sleep without more ado, after ordering the officer of
the watch to have him called if the _Achilles_ drew nearer. His serene
composure had its bracing effect upon the spirits of the men. At dawn
the captain was awakened from a sound slumber by the news that the
_Achilles_ was bearing down upon them with her crew at quarters. “He
calmly rose, went on deck as if it had been some ordinary occasion,”
and ordered his ship made ready for action.
We know that he was a man of commanding appearance and an unruffled
demeanor; the kind of fighting sailor who liked to have things done
handsomely and with due regard for the effect of such matters upon his
seamen.
Several of his crew had been transferred to the prize, and were now
prisoners to the _Achilles_. The forty-five defenders being reduced
to thirty-odd, Captain Haraden, in an eloquent and persuasive address
to the sixty prisoners he had captured in the _Golden Eagle_, offered
large rewards to volunteers who would enlist with the crew of the
_Pickering_. A boatswain and ten men, whose ties of loyalty to the
British flag must have been tenuous in the extreme, stepped forward
and were assigned to stations with the American crew. Her strength was
thus increased to forty-seven men and boys. The captain then made a
final tour of the decks, assuring his men that although the _Achilles_
appeared to be superior in force, “he had no doubt they would beat her
if they were firm and steady, and did not throw away their fire.” One
of his orders to the men with small arms was: “Take particular aim at
their white boot tops.”
The kind of sea fighting that won imperishable prestige for American
seamen belongs with a vanished era of history. As the gun crews of
the _General Pickering_ clustered behind their open ports, they saw
to it that water tubs were in place, matches lighted, the crowbars,
handspikes and “spung staves” and “rope spunges” placed in order by
the guns. Then as they made ready to deliver the first broadside, the
orders ran down the crowded low-beamed deck:
“Cast off the tackles and breechings.”
“Seize the breechings.”
“Unstop the touch-hole.”
“Ram home wad and cartridge.”
“Shot the gun-wad.”
“Run out the gun.”
“Lay down handspikes and crows.”
“Point your gun.”
“FIRE.”
The Yankee crew could hear the huzzas of the English gunners as the
_Achilles_ sought to gain the advantage of position. Captain Haraden
had so placed his ship between the land and a line of shoals, that
in closing with him the _Achilles_ must receive a raking broadside
fire. He knew that if it came to boarding, his little band must be
overwhelmed by weight of numbers and he showed superb seamanship in
choosing and maintaining a long range engagement.
The _Pickering_ was still deep laden with sugar, and this, together
with her small size, made her a difficult target to hull, while the
_Achilles_ towered above water like a small frigate. The Americans
fired low, while the English broadsides flew high across the decks
of the _Pickering_. This rain of fire killed the British volunteer
boatswain aboard the _Pickering_ and wounded eight of the crew early
in the fight. Captain Haraden was exposed to these showers of case and
round shot, but one of his crew reported that “all the time he was as
calm and steady as amid a shower of snowflakes.”
Meanwhile a multitude of spectators, estimated to number at least a
hundred thousand, had assembled on shore. The city of Bilboa had turned
out _en masse_ to enjoy the rare spectacle of a dashing sea duel fought
in the blue amphitheater of the harbor mouth. They crowded into fishing
boats, pinnaces, cutters and row boats until from within a short
distance of the smoke-shrouded _Pickering_ the gay flotilla stretched
to the shore so closely packed that an onlooker described it as a solid
bridge of boats, across which a man might have made his way by leaping
from one gunwale to another.
Captain Haraden was on the defensive. The stake for which he fought
was to gain entrance to the port of Bilboa with his cargo and retake
his prize, nor did he need to capture the _Achilles_ to win a most
signal victory. For two hours the two privateers were at it hammer and
tongs, the British ship unable to outmaneuver the Yankee and the latter
holding her vantage ground. At length the commander of the _Achilles_
was forced to decide that he must either run away or be sunk where he
was. He had been hulled through and through and his rigging was so cut
up that it was with steadily increasing difficulty that he was able
to avoid a raking from every broadside of his indomitable foe. It is
related that he decided to run immediately after a flight of crowbars,
with which the guns of the _Pickering_ had been crammed to the muzzles,
made hash of his decks and drove his gunners from their stations.
Captain Haraden made sail in chase. He offered his gunners a cash
reward if they should be able to carry away a spar and disable the
_Achilles_ so that he might draw up alongside the enemy and renew the
engagement. His fighting blood was at boiling heat and he no longer
thought of making for Bilboa and thanking his lucky stars that he had
gotten clear of so ugly a foe. But the _Achilles_ was light, while her
mainsail “was large as a ship of the line,” and after a chase of three
hours, the _General Pickering_ had been distanced. Captain Haraden
sorrowfully put about for Bilboa, and took some small satisfaction in
his disappointment by overhauling and retaking the _Golden Eagle_, the
prize which had been the original bone of contention.
The prize had been in sight of the action, during which the captured
American prizemaster, master John Carnes, enjoyed an interesting
conversation with the British prizemaster from the _Achilles_ who had
been placed in charge of the vessel.
Mr. Carnes informed his captor of the fighting strength of the
_General Pickering_. The British prizemaster rubbed his eyes when he
saw the little Yankee vessel engage the _Achilles_ and roundly swore
that Carnes had lied to him. The latter stuck to his guns, however, and
added by way of confirmation:
“If you knew Captain Jonathan Haraden as well as I do, you would not
be surprised at this. It is just what I expected, and I think it not
impossible, notwithstanding the disparity of force, that the _Achilles_
will at least be beaten off, and I shall have the command of this prize
again before night.”
The Spanish populace welcomed Captain Haraden ashore as if he had been
the hero of a bull fight. He was carried through the streets at the
head of a triumphant procession and later compelled to face veritable
broadsides of dinners and public receptions. His battle with the
_Achilles_ had been rarely spectacular and theatrical, and at sight
of one of his elaborately embroidered waistcoats to-day, displayed in
the Essex Institute, one fancies that he may have had the fondness for
doing fine things in a fine way which made Nelson pin his medals on his
coat before he went into action at Trafalgar.
In a narrative compiled from the stories of those who knew and
sailed with this fine figure of a privateersman we are told that “in
his person he was tall and comely; his countenance was placid, and
his manners and deportment mild. His discipline on board ship was
excellent, especially in time of action. Yet in the common concerns
of life he was easy almost to a fault. So great was the confidence he
inspired that if he but looked at a sail through his glass, and then
told the helmsman to steer for her, the observation went round, ‘If
she is an enemy, she is ours.’ His great characteristic was the most
consummate self-possession on all occasions and in midst of perils, in
which if any man equalled, none ever excelled him. His officers and
men insisted he was more calm and cool amid the din of battle than at
any other time; and the more deadly the strife, the more imminent the
peril, the more terrific the scene, the more perfect his self-command
and serene intrepidity. In a word he was a hero.”
Large and resonant words of tribute these, written in the long ago, and
yet they are no fulsome eulogy of Jonathan Haraden of Salem.
During another voyage from Salem to France as a letter of marque, the
_Pickering_ discovered, one morning at daylight, a great English ship
of the line looming within cannon shot. The enemy bore down in chase,
but did not open fire, expecting to capture the Yankee cockleshell
without having to injure her. He was fast overhauling the quarry, and
Captain Haraden manned his sweeps. The wind was light and although one
ball fired from a bowchaser sheared off three of his sweeps, or heavy
oars, he succeeded in rowing away from his pursuer and made his escape.
It was not a fight, but the incident goes to show how small by modern
standards was the ship in which Jonathan Haraden made his dauntless
way, when he could succeed in rowing her out of danger of certain
capture.
In his early voyages in the _Pickering_ she was commissioned as a
letter of marque, carrying cargoes across the Atlantic, and fetching
home provisions and munitions needed in the Colonies, but ready to
fight “at the drop of the hat.” She was later equipped with a slightly
heavier armament and commissioned as a full-fledged privateer. With his
sixteen guns Captain Haraden fought and took in one action no less than
three British ships carrying a total number of forty-two guns. He made
the briefest possible mention in his log of a victory which in its way
was as remarkable as the triumph of the _Constitution_ over the _Cyane_
and the _Levant_ in the second war with England.
It was while cruising as a privateer that the _Pickering_ came in
sight of three armed vessels sailing in company from Halifax to New
York. This little squadron comprised a brig of fourteen guns, a
ship of sixteen guns and a sloop of twelve guns. They presented a
formidable array of force, the ship alone appearing to be a match for
the _Pickering_ in guns and men as they exchanged signals with each
other, formed a line and made ready for action. “Great as was the
confidence of the officers and crew in the bravery and judgment of
Captain Haraden, they evinced, by their looks, that they thought on
this occasion he was going to hazard too much; upon which he told them
he had no doubt whatever that if they would do their duty, he would
quickly capture the three vessels, and this he did with great ease by
going alongside of each of them, one after another.”
This unique feat in the history of privateering actions was largely due
to Captain Haraden’s seamanship in that he was able so to handle the
_Pickering_ that he fought three successive single ship actions instead
of permitting the enemy to concentrate or combine their attack.
Somewhat similar to these tactics was the manner in which he took
two privateer sloops while he was cruising off Bermuda. They were
uncommonly fast and agile vessels and they annoyed the Yankee skipper
by retaking several of his prizes before he could send them free of
this molestation. The sloops had no mind to risk an action with Haraden
whose vessel they had recognized. So after nightfall he sent down his
fore topgallant yard and mast, otherwise disguised the _Pickering_,
and vanished from that part of the seas. A day later he put about and
jogged back after the two privateers, putting out drags astern to
check his speed. The _Pickering_ appeared to be a plodding merchantman
lumbering along a West India course.
[Illustration: Derby Wharf, Salem, Mass., as it appears to-day. Here
the East India ships once lay three deep, and these decaying warehouses
were filled with the riches of the most remote lands a century ago]
As soon as he was sighted by his pestiferous and deluded foes, they set
out in chase of him as easy booty. Letting the first sloop come within
easy range, Jonathan Haraden stripped the _Pickering_ of the painted
canvas screens that had covered her gun ports, let go a murderous
broadside and captured the sloop almost as soon as it takes to tell
it. Then showing English colors above the Stars and Stripes aboard the
_Pickering_, as if she had been captured, he went after the consort and
took her as neatly as he had gathered the other.
Captain Haraden knew how to play the gentleman in this bloody game of
war on the ocean. An attractive light is thrown upon his character by
an incident which happened during a cruise in the _Pickering_. He fell
in with a humble Yankee trading schooner which had been to the West
Indies with lumber and was jogging home with the beggarly proceeds of
the voyage. Her skipper signaled Captain Haraden, put out a boat and
went aboard the privateer to tell a tale of woe. A little while before
he had been overhauled by a British letter of marque schooner which had
robbed him of his quadrant, compass and provisions, stripped his craft
of much of her riggings, and with a curse and a kick from her captain,
left him to drift and starve.
Captain Haraden was very indignant at such wanton and impolite conduct
and at once sent his men aboard the schooner to re-rig her, provisioned
her cabin and forecastle, loaned the skipper instruments with which to
work his passage home and sent him on his way rejoicing. Then having
inquired the course of the plundering letter of marque when last seen,
he made sail to look for her. He was lucky enough to fall in and
capture the offender next day. Captain Haraden dressed himself in his
best and, to add dignity to the occasion, summoned the erring British
skipper to his cabin and there roundly rebuked and denounced him for
his piratical conduct toward a worthless little lumber schooner. He
gave his own crew permission to make reprisals, which probably means
that they helped themselves to whatever pleased their fancy and kicked
and cuffed the offending seamen the length of their deck. Captain
Haraden then allowed the letter of marque to resume her voyage. “He
would not, even under these circumstances, sink or destroy a ship
worthless as a prize and thus ruin a brother sailor.”
Off the Capes of the Delaware, Captain Haraden once captured an English
brig of war, although the odds were against him, by “the mere terror
of his name.” He afterward told friends ashore how this extraordinary
affair occurred. There was a boy on the _Pickering_, one of the
captain’s most ardent adorers, a young hero worshiper, who believed the
_Pickering_ capable of taking anything short of a line-of-battle ship.
He had been put aboard a prize off the Capes, which prize had been
captured, while making port, by the British brig-of-war. The lad was
transferred to the brig with his comrades of the prize crew, and was
delighted a little later to see the _Pickering_ standing toward them.
Being asked why he sang and danced with joy, the boy explained with the
most implicit assurance:
“That is my master in that ship, and I shall soon be with him.”
“Your master,” cried the British bos’n, “and who in the devil is he?”
“Why, Captain Haraden. You can’t tell me you never heard of him? He
takes everything he goes alongside of, and he will soon have you.”
This unseemly jubilation on an enemy’s deck was reported to the captain
of the brig. He summoned the boy aft, and was told the same story with
even more emphasis. Presently the _Pickering_ ran close down, and
approached the brig to leeward. There was a strong wind and the listed
deck of the brig lay exposed to the fire of the privateer. Captain
Haraden shouted through his trumpet:
“Haul down your colors, or I will fire into you.”
The captain of the brig-of-war had wasted precious moments, and his
vessel was so situated at that moment that her guns could not be
worked to leeward because of the seas that swept along her ports. After
a futile fire from deck swivels and small arms, she surrendered and
next day was anchored off Philadelphia.
One or two more stories and we must needs have done with the exploits
of Jonathan Haraden. One of them admirably illustrates the sublime
assurance of the man and in an extreme degree that dramatic quality
which adorned his deeds. During one of his last voyages in the
_Pickering_ he attacked a heavily armed “king’s mail packet,” bound to
England from the West Indies. These packets were of the largest type of
merchant vessels of that day, usually carrying from fifteen to twenty
guns, and complements of from sixty to eighty men. Such a ship was
expected to fight hard and was more than a match for most privateers.
The king’s packet was a foe to test Captain Haraden’s mettle and he
found her a tough antagonist. They fought four full hours, “or four
glasses,” as the log records it, after which Captain Haraden found that
he must haul out of the action and repair damages to rigging and hull.
He discovered also, that he had used all the powder on board except one
charge. It would have been a creditable conclusion of the matter if he
had called the action a drawn battle and gone on his way.
It was in his mind, however, to try an immensely audacious plan which
could succeed only by means of the most cold-blooded courage on his
part. Ramming home his last charge of powder and double shotting the
gun, he again ranged alongside his plucky enemy, who was terribly cut
up, but still unconquered, and hailed her:
“I will give you five minutes to haul down your colors. If they are not
down at the end of that time, I will fire into and sink you, so help me
God.”
It was a test of mind, not of armament. The British commander was a
brave man who had fought his ship like a hero. But the sight of this
infernally indomitable figure on the quarterdeck of the shot-rent
_Pickering_, the thought of being exposed to another broadside at
pistol range, the aspect of the blood-stained, half-naked privateersmen
grouped at their guns with matches lighted, was too much for him.
Captain Haraden stood, watch in hand, calling off the minutes so that
his voice could be heard aboard the packet:
“ONE—”
“TWO—”
“THREE.”
But he had not said “FOUR,” when the British colors fluttered down from
the yard and the packet ship was his.
When a boat from the _Pickering_ went alongside the prize, the crew
“found the blood running from her scuppers, while the deck appeared
more like the floor of a slaughter house than the deck of a ship. On
the quarterdeck, in an armchair, sat an old gentleman, the Governor of
the island from which the packet came. During the whole action he had
loaded and fired a heavy blunderbuss, and in the course of the battle
had received a ball in his cheek, which, in consequence of the loss of
teeth, had passed out through the other cheek without giving a mortal
wound.”
A truly splendid “old gentleman” and a hero of the first water!
In the latter part of the war Captain Haraden commanded the _Julius
Cæsar_, and a letter written by an American in Martinique in 1782 to a
friend in Salem is evidence that his activities had not diminished:
“Captain Jonathan Haraden, in the letter of marque ship, _Julius
Cæsar_, forty men and fourteen guns, off Bermuda, in sight of two
English brigs, one of twenty and the other of sixteen guns, took a
schooner which was a prize to one of them, but they both declined to
attack him. On the 5th ult., he fell in with two British vessels, being
a ship of eighteen guns and a brig of sixteen, both of which he fought
five hours and got clear of them. The enemy’s ship was much shattered
and so was the _Cæsar_, but the latter’s men were unharmed. Captain
Haraden was subsequently presented with a silver plate by the owners of
his ship, as commemorative of his bravery and skill. Before he reached
Martinico he had a severe battle with another English vessel which he
carried thither with him as a prize.”
Captain Haraden, the man who took a thousand cannon from the British
on the high seas, died in Salem in 1803 in his fifty-ninth year. His
descendants treasure the massive pieces of plate given him by the
owners of the _Pickering_ and the _Julius Cæsar_, as memorials of
one who achieved far more to win the independence of his nation than
many a landsman whose military records won him the recognition of his
government and a conspicuous place in history.
While the important ports of Boston, New York, and others to the
southward were blockaded by squadrons of British war vessels, the
Salem privateers managed to slip to sea and spread destruction. It
happened on a day of March, in 1781, that two bold English privateers
were cruising off Cape Cod, menacing the coastwise trading sloops and
schooners bound in and out of Salem and nearby ports. The news was
carried ashore by incoming vessels which had been compelled to run for
it, and through the streets and along the wharves of Salem went the
call for volunteers. The ships _Brutus_ and _Neptune_ were lying in the
stream and with astonishing expedition they were armed and made ready
for sea as privateers.
One of the enemy’s vessels was taken and brought into Salem only two
days after the alarm had been given. Tradition relates that while the
two Salem privateers were sailing home in company with their prize, the
_Brutus_ was hailed by an English sloop which had been loitering the
coast on mischief bent. The Yankee skippers seeking to get their prize
into port without risk of losing her in battle, had hoisted English
colors. Dusk had deepened into darkness when from the quarterdeck of
the British sloop sounded the husky challenge:
“Ship ahoy. What ship is that?”
“The English armed ship _Terror_,” answered the Salem captain.
“Where are you bound?”
“Just inside the Cape for safety.”
“Safety from what?” asked the guileless Englishman.
“A whole fleet of damned Yankee privateers.”
“Where are they?”
“They bear from the pitch of the Cape, about sou’east by East, four
leagues distant.”
“Aye, aye, we’ll look out for them and steer clear,” returned John
Bull, and thereupon with a free wind he stood out to sea leaving the
_Brutus_ to lay her course without more trouble.
Not all the Salem privateers were successful. In fairness to the foe it
should be recorded that one in three, or fifty-four in a total of one
hundred and fifty-eight privateers and letter of marque ships were lost
by capture during the war. Many of these, however, were scarcely more
than decked rowboats armed with one gun and a few muskets. But of the
four hundred and forty-five prizes taken by Salem ships, nine-tenths of
them reached American ports in safety.
There was a lad who had been captured in a Salem privateer, and forced
to enlist in the English navy. He was not of that heroic mold which
preferred death to surrender and the hardships of prison life appear to
have frightened him into changing his colors. He wrote home to Salem in
1781:
“HONOURED FATHER AND MOTHER:
“I send you these few lines to let you know that I am in good health
on board the _Hyeane_ Frigate which I was taken by and I hope I shall
be at home in a few months’ time. When I was taken by the _Hyeane_ I
was carried to England, where I left the ship and went on board a brig
going to New York. There I was prest out of her into the _Phœnix_,
forty-eight gun ship. I remained in her four months and was then taken
on board the _Hyeane_ again, where I am still kept. We are lying in
Carlisle Bay in Barbadoes. We are now going on an expedition, but will
soon be back again when the captain says he will let me come home.”
Alas, the boy who had weakened when it came to the test of his loyalty
was not so well pleased with his choice when peace came. In August,
1783, we find him writing to his mother:
“I cannot think of returning home till the people of New England are
more reconciled, for I hear they are so inveterate against all who have
ever been in the English navy that I can’t tell but their rage may
extend to hang me as they do others.”
Another letter of that time, while it does not deal wholly with
privateering, views the war from the interesting standpoint of a
Loyalist or Tory of Salem who was writing to friends of like sympathies
who had also taken refuge in England. It is to be inferred from his
somewhat caustic comments about certain _nouveaux riche_ families of
the town that the fortunes of privateering had suddenly prospered some,
while it had beggared the estate of others.
“BRISTOL, England, February 10, 1780.
“Perhaps it may amuse you to be made acquainted with a few particulars
of our own country and town, that may not have come to your
knowledge.... It is a melancholy truth that while some are wallowing
in undeserved wealth that plunder and Rapine has thrown into their
hands, the wisest and most peaceable, and most deserving, such as
you and I know, are now suffering for want, accompanied by many
indignities that a licencious and lawless people can pour forth upon
them. Those who a few years ago were the _meaner people_ are now by
a Strange Revolution become almost the only men in Power, riches and
influences; those who on the contrary were leaders in the highest line
of life are very glad at this time to be unknown and unnoticed, to
escape insult and plunder and the wretched condition of all who are
not Violent Adopters of Republican Principles. The Cabots of Beverly,
who you know had but five years ago a very moderate share of property
are now said to be by far the most wealthy in New England.... Nathan
Goodale by an agency concern in Privateers and buying up Shares,
counts almost as many pounds as most of his neighbors.”
What may be called the day’s work of the Revolutionary privateers
is compactly outlined in the following series of reports from Salem
annals. In an unfinished manuscript dealing with privateering the late
James Kimball of Salem made this note:
“June 26, 1857. This day saw John W. Osgood, son of John Osgood, who
stated that during the war of the Revolution his father was first
Lieutenant of the Brig _Fame_ commanded by Samuel Hobbs of Salem, from
whence they sailed. When three days out they fell in with a British
man-of-war which gave chase to the Privateer which outsailed the
man-of-war, who, finding that she was getting away from him, fired a
round shot which came on board and killed Captain Hobbs, which was the
only injury sustained during the chase.
“Upon the death of Captain Hobbs the crew mutinied, saying the captain
was dead, and the cruise was up, refused further duty and insisted
upon returning to Salem. Lieutenant Osgood now becoming the captain,
persisted in continuing the Cruise, yet with so small a number as
remained on his side, found great difficulty in working the Ship. The
mutineers stood in fear, but part of the officers stood by Captain
Osgood. No one feeling willing to appear at their head, they one day
Sent him a Round Robin requiring the return of the Privateer. Captain
Osgood still persisted in continuing the cruise.
“When an English Vessell hove in sight he told them that there was a
Prize, that they had only to take her and he would soon find others.
One of the Crew, to the leader to whom they all looked, replied that
he would return to his duty. All the rest followed him, sail was made
and they soon came up with the Prize. She proved to be a man-of-war in
disguise, with drags out. As soon as this was discovered the Privateer
attempted to escape, but she could not and was captured and carried to
Halifax.”
Selecting other typical incidents almost at random as they were
condensed in newspaper records, these seem to be worthy of notice:
“June 31, 1778. Much interest is made here for the release of Resolved
Smith from his captivity. On his way from the West Indies to North
Carolina he was taken, and confined on board the prison ship _Judith_
at New York. Describing his situation, he said that he and other
sufferers were shut in indiscriminately with the sick, dead and dying.
‘I am now closing the eyes of the last two out of five healthy men that
came about three weeks ago with me on board this ship.’”
“July, 1779. The Brig _Wild Cat_, Captain Daniel Ropes, seventy-five
men, fourteen guns, is reported as having taken a schooner belonging
to the British navy. The next day, however, he was captured by a
frigate and for his activity against the enemy was confined in irons at
Halifax. On hearing of his severe treatment, our General Court ordered
that an English officer of equal rank be put in close confinement until
Captain Ropes is liberated and exchanged.”
“Feb. 13, 1781. Ship _Pilgrim_, Captain Robinson, reported that on
Christmas Day he had a battle with a Spanish Frigate and forced her to
retire, and on January 5th engaged a privateer of thirty-three men,
twenty-two guns, for three hours and took her. He had nine men killed
and two wounded while his opponent had her captain and four more killed
and thirteen wounded.”
“March 13, 1781. It is reported that the Brig _Montgomery_, Captain
John Carnes, had engaged a large British cutter, lost his lieutenant
and had five wounded. From another account we learn that after a hard
fight he succeeded in beating his opponent off.”
“It is reported on the 19th of the same month that the ship _Franklin_,
Captain John Turner, had taken a ship after a fight of forty minutes,
having had one killed and one wounded. The prize had two killed and
eight wounded.”
“August 26, 1781. The ship _Marquis de Lafayette_, seventy-five men and
sixteen guns, reported as having attacked a brig of thirty-two guns,
upwards of two hours, but was obliged to draw off, much damaged, with
eight killed and fourteen wounded and leaving the enemy with seventeen
killed besides others wounded.”
Privateering was destined to have a powerful influence upon the
seafaring fortunes of Salem. Elias Hasket Derby, for example, the
first great American shipping merchant and the wealthiest man in the
Colonies, found his trading activities ruined by the Revolution.
He swung his masterly energy and large resources into equipping
privateers. It was his standing offer that after as many shares as
possible had been subscribed for in financing any Salem privateer, he
would take up the remainder, if more funds were needed. It is claimed
that Mr. Derby was interested in sending to sea more than one-half of
the one hundred and fifty-eight privateers which hailed from Salem
during the Revolution. After the first two years of war he discerned
the importance of speed, and that many of the small privateers of
his town had been lost or captured because they were unfit for their
business. He established his own shipyards, studied naval architecture,
and began to build a class of vessels vastly superior in size, model
and speed to any previously launched in the Colonies. They were
designed to be able to meet a British sloop of war on even terms.
These ships took a large number of prizes, but Elias Hasket Derby
gradually converted them from privateers to letters of marque, so that
they could carry cargoes to distant ports and at the same time defend
themselves against the largest class of British privateers. At the
beginning of the war he owned seven sloops and schooners. When peace
came he had four ships of from three hundred to three hundred and fifty
tons, which were very imposing merchant vessels for that time.
It was with these ships, created by the needs of war, that the commerce
of Salem began to reach out for ports on the other side of the world.
They were the vanguard of the great fleet which through the two
generations to follow were to carry the Stars and Stripes around the
Seven Seas. Ready to man them was the bold company of privateersmen,
schooled in a life of the most hazardous adventure, braced to face all
risks in the peaceful war for trade where none of their countrymen
had ever dared to seek trade before. While they had been dealing
shrewd blows for their country’s cause in war, they had been also in
preparation for the dawning age of Salem supremacy on the seas in the
rivalries of commerce, pioneers in a brilliant and romantic era which
was destined to win unique fame for their port.