Engraved by Ridley from a Miniature by Thos. Langdon.
Iohn Bazely Esqr. Vice Admiral.
of the Red Squadron
The Lexington was captured on September 20, 1777. She had refitted at Morlaix, whither she had gone when chased by the line-of-battle ship. When ordered to sail she had not a full supply of powder on board, but was, nevertheless, forced to go. She sailed on September 18th, and when two days outside of the port she fell in with the man-of-war cutter Alert, commanded by Lieutenant Bazely, and Bazely was one of the fighters of whom British seamen have a right to be proud. His cutter was smaller than the Lexington, and she had but ten cannon to the Lexington’s sixteen. The wind was strong and the sea was rough for such light vessels, but Bazely forced a fight, and for two hours and a half held his own. At the end of that time, however, his rigging had been so badly hurt that he had to stop fighting and make repairs. Seeing this, the Lexington, having expended all but a trifle of her ammunition, made sail for home, and she would have got away had any one but the plucky Bazely commanded the Alert. Bazely made repairs, overhauled the Lexington, and again opened fire. The Lexington held on her course for an hour without being able to reply, and in the hope that the wind would carry away some of the cutter’s sails. But the cutter was well found, and the Lexington was carried into Plymouth. Lieutenant Bazely lived to become an admiral, and there is no doubt he earned his promotion.
The fate of the Lexington’s crew, because like that of every American cruiser of those days, shall be told somewhat in detail. They were thrown into jail without trial on a charge of high treason, and there they were deliberately starved. On one occasion they were glad to kill and eat a dog that strayed into their yard. The conduct of the prison officials in their bearing toward the prisoners was insufferably brutal.
Because the assertion that the prisoners were deliberately starved may seem to some readers an exaggeration, the proof of the statement shall be given from an English source. It may be found on page 152 of the “Annual Register for the Year 1781,” published by G. Robinson, Paternoster Row, London. In reporting the proceedings of Parliament for June 20th of that year it says:
“A petition was presented to the house by Mr. Fox from the American prisoners in Mill Prison, Plymouth, setting forth that they were treated with less humanity than the French and Spaniards; that they had not a sufficient allowance of bread, and were very scantily furnished with clothing. A similar petition was presented to the house of peers by the Duke of Richmond. It appeared upon inquiry that the American prisoners were allowed half a pound of bread less per day than French or Spanish prisoners. Several motions were grounded on these petitions, but those proposed by the lords and gentlemen of the opposition were determined in the negative, and others to exculpate the government in this business were resolved in the affirmative.”
Neither the French nor the Spanish were fully fed, but by the deliberate vote of Parliament the Americans received half a pound of bread less per man each day than did the French and Spanish.
At one time prisoners escaped by tunnelling under the prison walls, and in London got on board a vessel bound for Dunkirk. But a press-gang found them and dragged them back to the jail. Among their number was Master’s Mate Richard Dale. A year after he was recaptured he procured a British uniform. How he got it he would never tell, not even when the war was over, and it is therefore not unlikely that a woman brought it to him. With that on, he walked out of the jail in open day and escaped.
Meantime another American cruiser had been at work on the British coasts with notable results. The American commissioners in France had purchased a fast cutter, which they equipped as a man-of-war. They named her the Surprise, and that proved to be a very appropriate name. Capt. Gustavus Connyngham was placed in charge of her, his commission being one of the blank ones which had been given to the commissioners to fill out at their own discretion. It was dated March 1, 1777, and Captain Connyngham got away to sea on May 1st, but he had a deal of trouble before he found himself fairly afloat. To avoid complications with the French government he was obliged to send ashore all his cannon and warlike supplies and load his vessel with merchandise for Norway. In this way he left port. Then, when well outside, he met by appointment a vessel that had his equipment and crew, and effected a transfer. But the government had suspected that he was going to do this, and had compelled him to give bonds not to do it. Two men were hired to sign the bond, but one of them found he had made a bad bargain, even though he had signed it with his eyes open, for when the first prize made by the Surprise came in he was haled away to the Bastile, while the prize, in which he was to have a share, no doubt, was given up to the English without legal process. The names of the bondsmen are recorded simply as “Allen and Hodge.” Hodge was the chief unfortunate, but he was released after six weeks.