The ships and sailors of old Salem

by Ralph Delahaye Paine

FOOTNOTES:

[11] In the log book of the Protector Captain Williams described the engagement as follows: “June 9th, 1780. At 7 A. M. saw a ship to the Westward, we stood for her under English colours, the ship standing athaught us, under English colours, appeared to be a large ship. At 11 came alongside of her, hailed her, she answered from Jamaica. I shifted my colours and gave her a broadside; she soon returned us another. The action was very heavy for near three Glasses, when she took fire and blew up. Got out the Boats to save the men, took 55 of them, the greatest part of them wounded with our shot and burnt when the ship blew up. She was called the Admiral Duff of 32 guns, Comman’d by Richard Strang from St. Kitts and Eustatia, ladened with Sugar and Tobacco, bound to London. We lost in the action one man, Mr. Benja. Scollay and 5 wounded. Rec’d several shot in our Hull and several of our shrouds and stays shot away.”

Ebenezer Fox who was a seaman aboard the Protector related: “We ascertained that the loss of the enemy was prodigious, compared with ours. This disparity, however, will not appear so remarkable when it is considered that, although their ship was larger than ours, it was not so well supplied with men; having no marines to use the musket, they fought with their guns alone, and as their ship lay much higher out of the water than ours, the greater part of their shot went over us, cutting our rigging and sails without injuring our men. We had about seventy marines who did great execution with their muskets, picking off the officers and men with a sure and deliberate aim.”

CHAPTER VII
THE JOURNAL OF WILLIAM RUSSELL
(1776-1783)

An attempt to portray the seafaring life of our forefathers would be signally incomplete without some account of the misfortunes endured when the American privateersman or man-of-war’s-man was the loser in an encounter on blue water. During the Revolution, when privateers were swarming from every port from Maine to the Carolinas, scores of them were captured by superior force and their crews carried off to be laid by the heels, often for two and three years, in British prisons of war. Brilliant as was the record of the private armed ships of Salem, her seamen, in large numbers, became acquainted with the grim walls of Old Mill Prison at Plymouth and Forton Prison near Portsmouth.

They were given shorter rations than the French, Spanish and Dutch prisoners of war with whom they were confined, and they were treated as rebels and traitors and committed as such. Manuscript narratives of their bitter experiences as preserved in Salem show that these luckless seamen managed to maintain hope, courage and loyalty to a most inspiring degree, although theirs was the hardest part to play that can be imagined. Many of them shipped again in privateer or Continental cruiser as soon as they were released and served their country until the end of the war.

As recalling this prison life in a personal and intimate way, the subjoined journal of William Russell is quoted at considerable length although he was not a native of Salem. He sailed and was captured in a ship commanded by Captain John Manley, of Marblehead; however, he met many masters and seamen of Salem vessels during his years of confinement in Old Mill Prison, and his journal came at length into the hands of his grandson, James Kimball of Salem. What he suffered in prison and how heartily he hated his captors and their nation can be compactly concluded from these vitriolic verses of his:

“Great Mars with me, come now and view, this more than Hellish crew!

Great Vulcan send your thunder forth, and all their fields bestrew!

Rain on their heads perpetual fire in one eternal flame:

Let black destruction be their doom, dishonor’d be their name:

Send mighty bolts to strike the traitors, North and Mansfield, dead:

And liquid fires to scald the crown from Royal George’s head:

Strike all their young posterity, with one eternal curse.

Nor pity them, no more than they, have ever pitied us!

One hundred and thirty years ago William Russell was earning a humdrum livelihood as an usher in a “public school” of Boston taught by one Master Griffith. Whatever else he may have drilled into the laggard minds of his scholars, it is certain that the young usher did not try, by ferrule or precept, to inspire loyalty for their gracious sovereign, King George and his flag. It is recorded that “he was of an ardent temperament and entered with great zeal into the political movement of the Colonies,” and was early enrolled among the “Sons of Liberty,” which organization preached rebellion and resistance to England long before the first clash of arms. At the age of twenty-three this undignified school teacher was one of the band of lawless patriots who, painted and garbed as red Indians, dumped a certain famous cargo of tea into Boston Harbor.

When a British fleet and army took possession of seething Boston, Master Griffith had to look for another usher, for William Russell had “made himself obnoxious to the ‘authorities,’” and found it advisable to betake himself with his family to places not so populous with red coats.

His active service in the cause of the Revolution did not begin until June of 1777, when the Massachusetts State’s Train of Artillery for the defense of Boston was reorganized, and the first entry in the regimental orderly book was in the handwriting of Sergeant Major William Russell; a roll of the officers which included the name of “Paul Revere, Lieutenant Colonel.”

Sergeant Major Russell was later appointed adjutant of this regiment and served in the Rhode Island campaign until the end of the year 1778. Thereafter that “ardent temperament” in his country’s cause led him to seek the sea, and the artillery officer entered the naval service as a captain’s clerk on board the Continental ship Jason under the famous Captain John Manley of Marblehead. They were sure of hard fighting who sailed with John Manley. While in command of the frigate Hancock he had taken the British twenty-eight-gun frigate Fox after a severe and bloody action. Later, in the privateer Cumberland, he had suffered the misfortune of being carried into Barbados by the British frigate Pomona, but breaking out of jail with his men at night he seized a British government vessel, put her crew in irons, and sailed her to the United States. Reaching Boston, Captain Manley was given the fine Continental cruiser Jason, of twenty guns and a hundred and twenty men.

It was this vessel and its dashing commander which lured young William Russell from his military service. But the Jason was captured during Captain Manley’s first cruise in her by the swift British frigate Surprise after a hammer and tongs engagement in which the American loss was thirty killed and wounded. Carried as prisoners to England, the officers and some of the men of the Jason were thrown into Old Mill Prison at Plymouth where William Russell kept the journal which is by far the most complete and entertaining account of the experience of the Revolutionary privateersmen and naval seamen who suffered capture that has been preserved.

After two and a half years’ confinement in a British prison, William Russell, having left a wife and children at home, was exchanged and sent to Boston in a cartel, or vessel under a flag of truce. He enjoyed his homecoming no more than a few days when he re-entered the service of his country as a privateersman and was again captured during his first cruise, and sent to the notorious prison ship Jersey in New York harbor. He was not paroled until the spring of 1783, when with health shattered by reason of his years of hardship as a prisoner of war he returned to Cambridge and endeavored to resume his old occupation of teaching. He mustered a few scholars at his home in the “Light House Tavern,” but consumption had gripped him and he died in the following year, on March 7, 1784, at the age of thirty-five. He had given the best years of his life to his country and he died for its cause with as much indomitable heroism and self-sacrificing devotion as though musket ball or boarding pike had slain him.

The Journal of William Russell’s long captivity in Mill Prison begins as follows:[12]

“Dec. 19, 1779. This morning the Boatswain told us to get ready to go on shore to be examined. Went to the Fountain Inn Dock. Examined by two Justices and committed to Mill Prison in Plymouth for Piracy, Treason and Rebellion against His Majesty on the High Sea.[13] This evening came to the Prison, finding 168 Americans among whom was Captain Manley and some more of my acquaintances. Our diet is short, only ¾ pound of beef, 1 lb. of bread, 1 qt. of beer per day per man.”

The East India Marine Society’s hall, now the home of the Peabody Museum

Page from the records of the East India Marine Society, written in 1799

Much of this vivacious journal is occupied with the stories of attempted escapes from the prison. The punishment was severe, but nothing could daunt the high spirits of these Yankee seamen who were continually burrowing through the walls, gnawing their way to liberty like so many beavers, and now and then scoring a success. This appears to have been their chief diversion, a warfare of wits waged against their guards, with considerable good humor on both sides. Less than two weeks after his commitment William Russell records, January 1, 1780: “Made a breach in the wall of the Prison, with the design of escaping, but it was discovered by the Sentinel on the other side. The masons were sent to mend it but it being dinner time they left for dinner and two Sentinels were placed to prevent our escape. Eight of our men put on frocks and took mortar and daubed their clothing, going through the hole as workmen. One of them came back into the yard undiscovered, but the rest were taken or gave themselves up.

“Jan. 7th. Began another hole at the south end of the prison. The dirt was put in our bread sacks which was the occasion of our being found out. The masons were sent for and the hole stopped again. Richard Goss, Jacob Vickary, Samuel Goss and John Stacey were put upon one half diet and confined to the Black Hole for forty days.

“Jan. 28th. Began upon the same again and tho’ the two Sentinels were kept with us all night, and two lamps burning, we went on with it with great success. The weather being very rainy and frost in the ground which thawed just as we were going through, the Sentinel marching on his post broke into the hole that ran across the road. Immediately the guard was alarmed and came into the prison, some with guns, some with cutlasses. However we got to our hammocks and laughed at them. One of the prisoners threw a bag of stones down stairs and liked to have killed a drummer. The hole was mended next day and all hopes of our escape is at an end. Very bad weather and very dark times.”

The attention of these energetic prisoners was diverted from more attempts to break through the walls by the tidings of the arrival of a cartel or vessel sent to take home exchanged Americans. The list of “Pardons,” as the journal calls them, did not include Captain Manley and the men of the Jason, and on March 5th it is related:

“One hundred embarked to-day in the cartel for France, we remained in good spirits. I wrote a petition to the Honourable Commissioners for taking care of Sick and Hurt Seamen at London, in Captain Manley’s name, to obtain His Majesty’s pardon for nineteen Americans that came after the 168 that were pardoned, that we might be ready to go in the next draft. The cartel sailed and we are awaiting her return with great expectation of being released from this disagreeable confinement.”

The story of their bitter disappointment is told in a letter written by William Russell to his wife in Boston at this time. This true-hearted patriot was much concerned about the fortunes of his fighting countrymen, news of whom was filtering into Mill Prison in the form of belated and distorted rumors. He wrote:

“My dear:

“I transmit these few lines to you with my best love, hoping by the blessing of God they will find you and my children, with our Mother, Brother and Sisters, and all relations in as good state of health as they leave me, but more composed in mind. I desire to bless Almighty God for the measure of health I have enjoyed since this year came in, as I have not had but one twenty-four hours’ illness, tho’ confined in this disagreeable prison, forgotten as it seems by my Countrymen.

“My dear, in my last letter sent by Mr. Daniel Lane, I mentioned my expectation of being at home this summer (but how soon are the hopes of vain man disappointed), and indeed everything promised fair for it till the return of the Cartel from France which was the 20th of last month. We expected then to be exchanged, but to our sorrow found that she brought no prisoners back. She lay some weeks in Stone Pool waiting for orders, till at last orders came from the Board at London that she was suspended until such time as they knew why the prisoners were not sent. Then all hope of our being exchanged was and still is at an end, except kind Providence interposes.

“It is very evident that the People here are in no wise blameable, for they were ready and willing to exchange us, had there been anybody sent from France. We have been informed by one of our friends that saw a letter from Doctor Franklin which mentioned that the reason of our not being exchanged was owing to the neglect of Monsieur Le Sardine, Minister at France. If so I shall never love a Frenchman. However, God only knows!

“I understand Mr. John Adams has superseded Doctor Franklin at France, to whom I am going to write if he can’t get us exchanged this Fall. If he don’t I think many in the yard will enter into the King’s service. And I should myself, was it not that (by so doing) I must sell my Country, and that which is much more dearer to me, yourself and my children, but I rely wholly on God, knowing He will deliver me in His own good time.

“I am extremely sorry to hear that Charleston is taken. Had our people beat them there the War would have been over, for that was all their dependence. They would have readily granted us our Independence for they are sick of the War. It is not too late yet if the people in America would turn out in good spirit, as they might soon drive them off the Earth.”

The foregoing letter was written in April, 1780, and Charleston was not captured by General Clinton’s army until May 12th. It was a false report, therefore, which brought grief to the heart of William Russell and his comrades, and must have been born of the fact that Clinton was preparing to make an overland march against Charleston from his base at Savannah. The history of two and a half years of the Revolution as it was conveyed to the Americans in Mill Prison in piecemeal and hearsay rumors was a singularly grotesque bundle of fiction and facts.

No sooner was the hope of exchange shattered than the industrious Americans were again absorbed in the game of playing hide-and-seek with the prison guard. On April 11th, William Russell goes on to say in his matter-of-fact fashion:

“This evening Captain Manley and six others got over the sink dill wall and went across the yard into the long prison sink and got over the wall, except Mr. Patten who seeing somebody in the garden he was to cross was afraid to go down the wall by the rope. He came back and burst into the prison by the window, frightening the Sentinel who was placed to prevent escapes. He in turn alarmed the guard, but by this time the rest had got into Plymouth, and being late at night they took shelter in Guildhall. The guard finding a rope over the wall knew that somebody had made their escape. They surrounded Plymouth, made a search and found Captain Manley, Mr. Drummond, Knight, Neagle and Pike, and put them into the Black Hole that night.”

A more cheering item of news found its way into the journal under date of June 27th:

“Somerset Militia mounted guard. Have just heard from a friend that Captain Paul Jones had taken two Frigates, one Brig and a Cutter.”

There is something fine and inspiriting in the following paragraph which speaks for itself:

“July 4, 1780. To-day being the Anniversary of American Independence, the American prisoners wore the thirteen Stars and Stripes drawn on pieces of paper on their hats with the motto, Independence, Liberty or Death. Just before one o’clock we drew up in line in the yard and gave Thirteen Cheers for the Thirteen United States of America and were answered by the French prisoners. The whole was conducted in a decent manner and the day spent in mirth.”

It is the more to be regretted that Mr. Patten and one John Adams should have chosen this day to turn traitor and enlist on board the British sixty-four gun ship Dunkirk “after abusing Captain Manley in a shameful manner.” To atone for their desertion of their flag, however, there is the shining instance of one Pike as told on July 26th:

“When we were turning in at sunset some high words arose between the soldiers and our people. An officer and two men came to the window and asked if we were English, and began to use uncivil language. Upon which Pike said he was an Englishman and was taken by the Americans in the first of the war, and would fight for them as long as they had a vessel afloat. They called him a rascal and threatened to put him in the Black Hole. We laughed at them and told them there were more rascals outside than in. They went out of the yard and soon returned with six or seven more soldiers to put Pike into the Black Hole, but not knowing him they seized on several and let them go. They searched the prison, and we told them that if they confined one they should confine all. Whereupon they went out again and we clapped our hands at them and gave them three Cheers.”

Late in July the master, mate and crew of the American Letter of Marque Aurora were brought into the prison, increasing the number of American prisoners to an even hundred. That England was fighting the world at large during this period appears in the muster roll of Mill Prison which included also 287 French and 400 Spanish seamen.

The capture of Henry Laurens, formerly President of the Congress of the United States and recently appointed Minister to Holland, was a matter of great interest to the Yankee seamen in Mill Prison, and the diarist has this to say about it in his journal for September, 1780:

“10th. A frigate arrived last Friday at Dartmouth from New Foundland and brought three Americans as prisoners. One was Henry Laurens, Esq., of South Carolina who was taken in a tobacco-laden vessel which sailed with a fleet of twelve from Virginia.

“Mr. Laurens, Esq., late President of the Congress of the United States but now Ambassador to Holland, and his clerk, were committed to the Tower after a spirited speech.”

“Sept. 30, 1780. To-day I am twelve Months a Prisoner and fourteen Months since I left Home.”

Thus ends the chronicle of the first year of William Russell’s wearing exile in Old Mill Prison, the story of a brave and patient man who showed far more concern for the cause of his fellow patriots at home than for his own hapless plight and separation from his loved ones. Crew after crew of American privateering vessels had been brought into the prison, and most of this unfortunate company seem to have been of a dauntless and cheerful temper. They had tried one hazard of escape after another, only to be flung into the “Black Hole” with the greatest regularity. And whereas in other British jails and in their prison ships there were scenes of barbarous oppression and suffering, these sea-dogs behind the gray walls at Plymouth appear to have been on terms of considerable friendliness with their guards, except for the frequent and painful excursions to the “Black Hole.” The Americans, however, took their punishment as a necessary evil following on the heels of their audacious excursions over and through the prison walls.

Christmastide of 1780 brought a large addition to the prison company, eighty-six Frenchmen from Quebec and nine Americans belonging to the privateerships Harlequin and Jack of Salem and the Terrible of Marblehead. All hands found cause for rejoicing that war was declared between Holland and England, and the journal makes mention on December 25th:

“To-day being Christmas and the happy news of the Dutch War, I drew up the Americans in the yard at one o’clock to Huzza in the following manner: Three times for France; three times for Spain; and seven times for the seven states of Holland. The French in the other yard answered us and the whole was performed in a decent manner.

“28th. Captain Samuel Gerrish made his escape over the wall into the French prison. He remained in the French prison all night and went off about eight o’clock this morning. We were informed that Captain Gerrish got the French barber to dress his hair this morning in the prison. A little while after, Mr. Cowdry with some French officers came into the yard, and when they retired Captain Gerrish placed himself among them, and went out bowing to the Agent who did not know him. He has not been heard of since. The Agent ordered all the prisoners shut up at noon. After dinner we were all called over, but no Captain Gerrish. The Agent is pretty good-natured. Mr. Saurey brought us our money, and says he has enough for us all winter.

“Dec. 31st. We have now 122 Dutch prisoners. The year closes at twelve o’clock midnight; and we still in prison.

“1781. Jany. 1st. A Sentinel informed Captain Manley to-day that a Minister in Cornwall had been in a trance and when he came out said that England would be reduced and lose two Capital places or Cities, and that in the run of a year there would be Peace.

“3d. To-day eighteen or twenty of the Americans innoculated themselves for the Small Pox. Mr. Saurey came to-day and brought our money which is augmented to a Shilling a week and to be continued during our confinement. Such as are necessitated for clothes Captain Connyngham is to make a list of and Mr. Saurey[14] will send it to Mr. Diggs[15] at London in order to obtain them.

“Feb. 4th (Sunday). This morning Captain Manley communicated to me that he had received a great deal of abuse from Captain Daniel Brown and was determined to have satisfaction by giving him a challenge to fight a duel with pistols, and desired me to load them. Accordingly Captain Manley[16] went into the chamber and took his pistols with ammunition and put them on the table and told Captain Brown that he had been ill-treated and desired him to fight like a Gentleman or ask his pardon. Brown said he would not ask his pardon and refused to accept the challenge, upon which Captain Manley told him he was no Gentleman but a great Coward, and bid him have a caution how he made use of his name again.

“28th. Read the speech of Sir P. Clark in the House of Commons, reported in the Sherbourne Gazette, who said that the American refugees, instead of a Prison ought to have a Halter.

“An Agent from Congress with proposals is undoubtedly in London at this time and it is whispered that his terms will be agreed to by the English Cabinet.

“March 4th. Wrote a letter to my wife and mother.”

The letter referred to has been preserved and reads in part:

“Mill Prison, March 4, 1781.

“Notwithstanding my long confinement, I bless God that I have not experienced the want of any of the necessaries of life in this prison, for with my industry[17] and what I am allowed, I live comfortably for a prisoner.

“The usage we receive, if I am any judge, is very good, for we are allowed the liberty of the yard all day and an open market at the gate to buy or sell, from nine o’clock in the morning to two in the afternoon, besides we have comfortable lodgings. I have never been in the Black Hole once, for I have made it my study to behave as a prisoner ought and I am treated accordingly. Last year before this time we had the pleasing prospect of an Exchange and one hundred went, but to my inexpressible grief I see but little hope of being exchanged now till the war is at an end. Where to lay the blame I’m at a loss, tho’ I think our People might do more than they do. However, I keep up good spirits and still live in hopes as we are informed that something is doing for us tho’ very slowly.”

In a letter written a week later and addressed also to his wife in Boston, William Russell said:

“You can’t imagine the anxiety I have to hear from home, for my spirits are depressed and I grow melancholy to think in what situation you must be, with three young children to maintain. But I hope you will be carried through all your trouble and remember that there is a God that never suffers such as put their trust in Him to want.”

“May 4, 1781. Samuel Owens informed the Agent of the people’s innoculating themselves for the Small Pox, upon which the Agent and Doctor of the Royal Hospital came into the yard and searched the arms of such as had been innoculated and took the names of the others to report to the Board of Commissioners.

“May 5th. Samuel Owens, Informer, was cut down[18] last night upon which he told the Agent that Mayo and Chase were the persons and that they had threatened his life. The Agent threatened to put Mayo in irons. However, upon Mayo’s shaking hands with Owens the matter was settled.

“9th. An account from New York says that Connecticut and Massachusetts are in the greatest disorder and almost starved, that their Treasuries are exhausted and their Taxes so high that the People refuse to pay them; that George Washington has advertised his Estate for Sale. Thus far for you, ye Lying Gazette!

“Yesterday Captain Manley dressed himself with an intent to go out at the Gate behind the Doctor. Just as he got past through the Gate, the Turnkey looked him in the face, which prevented his escape. In the afternoon Joseph Adams was dressed for the same purpose, which would have been effected had not Captain Connyngham prevented. To-day a lugger’s crew was brought to Prison, forty in number, mostly Americans. Nothing more remarkable except the digging of a hole being discovered.

“May 18th. Lieutenant Joshua Barney made his escape over the gate at noon, and has not been missed yet. Mr. James Adams got over the paling into the little yard in order to escape but making too great a noise, was discovered by the guard and was obliged to get back.

“19th. A tailor brought a suit of clothes to the prison for Lieutenant Barney by which means his escape was discovered and we were mustered. The Agent says he saw him at 12 o’clock this day, and has ordered us to be locked in the yard all day, dinner time excepted. The way we concealed his escape was when we were counted into the prison we put a young boy out through the window and he was counted twice. So much for one of our Mill Prison capers!”

This Lieutenant Joshua Barney, after whom one of the torpedo craft of the modern American navy is named, made a brilliant sea record, both as an officer of the naval service and as a fighting privateersman. His escape from Mill Prison was perhaps the most picturesque incident of his career. Although the story of his flight came back to William Russell and his comrades only as a scanty report that he had made way to sea, it is known from other sources that after leaving the prison Lieutenant Barney found refuge in the home of a venerable clergyman of Plymouth who sympathized with the American cause. There he was so fortunate as to find two friends from New Jersey, Colonel William Richardson, and Doctor Hindman, who had been captured as passengers in a merchant vessel and were seeking an opportunity to return home. They had bought a fishing smack in which they proposed sailing to France as the first stage of their voyage.

Barney disguised himself as a fisherman and safely joined the smack as pilot and seaman. They put to sea past the fleet of British war vessels off Plymouth, and stood for the French coast. Alas, a Guernsey privateer overhauled them in the Channel and insisted upon searching the smack. Barney played a desperate game by throwing off his fisherman’s great coat and revealing the uniform of a British officer. He declared that he was bound for France on a secret and urgent business of an official nature and demanded that he be suffered to proceed on his course. The skipper of the privateer was suspicious and stubborn, however, and the upshot of it was that the smack was ordered back to Plymouth.

Making the best of the perilous situation, Barney insisted that he be taken aboard the flagship of Admiral Digby, where “his captor would find cause to repent of his rash enterprise.” Once in Plymouth harbor, however, the American officer escaped to shore and after wandering far and wide amid hairbreadth escapes from recapture found a haven in the heavily wooded grounds of Lord Edgecomb’s estate. From this hiding place he managed to return to the home of the clergyman whence he had set out. Three days later, in another kind of disguise he took a post chaise to Exeter, and from there fled by stage to Bristol, and so to London, France and Holland.

In Holland Lieutenant Barney secured passage in the private armed ship South Carolina, bound to Bilboa. In his diary, John Trumbull, the famous American painter, pays a fine tribute to the seamanship of Joshua Barney. The South Carolina was caught in a terrific storm which strewed the English Channel with shattered shipping. The vessel was driving onto the coast of Heligoland, and almost helpless. “The ship became unmanageable,” writes Trumbull, “the officers lost their self-possession, and the crew all confidence in them, while for a few moments all was confusion and dismay. Happily for us Commodore Barney was among the passengers—he had just escaped from Mill Prison. Hearing the increased tumult aloft, and feeling the ungoverned motion of the ship, he flew upon deck, saw the danger, assumed command, the men obeyed, and he soon had her again under control.”

Shortly after reaching America, Lieutenant Barney was offered command of the Hyder Ally, a ship commissioned by the Pennsylvania Legislature, mounting sixteen six-pounders and carrying one hundred and twenty men. In this converted merchantman, hastily manned and equipped, Barney won one of the most brilliant naval victories of the Revolution against the General Monk off the Capes of the Delaware.