Unfortunately for Connyngham, he was captured in a privateer early the following year after his cruise on the English coast. What treatment he then received cannot be given in detail here, but if the British authorities were willing to starve the prisoners from the Lexington, which was then conceded to be a lawful ship of war, one may rest assured that it would have been kinder to Connyngham to hang him out of hand. He would, indeed, have been hanged but for the fear of retributive justice being meted out to prisoners in the hands of the Americans. So, to put it bluntly, they tortured whom they dared not kill, until the Congress, on July 17, 1778, passed a resolution formally demanding the reason why he was “treated in a manner contrary to all the dictates of humanity and the practice of civilized nations.” And yet, in spite of the pitiful sufferings of Connyngham and the other American seamen in British prisons, it was not until July 15, 1779, that Congress resolved to “cause the crews of vessels captured from the enemy to be confined on board prison ships and supplied and treated, in all respects, in the same manner as the crews of vessels belonging to these United States, and captured by the enemy, are supplied and treated.”
The story of the early doings of the American navy concludes with the loss of the first American flagship, the Alfred.
It will be remembered that the Congress had, late in 1775, ordered quite a fleet of small frigates built at different points along the coast—thirteen in all. Of the whole number, six never got to sea, for they were captured in port by the victorious British. Among those that finally carried the flag was the Raleigh, a thirty-two-gun vessel, built at Portsmouth, and a very fair ship for that time she proved to be. Toward the end of August, 1777, the Marine Committee ordered the Raleigh, under the command of Capt. Thomas Thompson, and the original flagship Alfred, which was still under the command of Capt. Elisha Hinman, to sail for France to procure supplies for the American army.
The two ships had been at sea only a few days, when, on September 2d, they fell in with a small English merchantman called the Nancy, that surrendered without a stroke. From her captain they learned that she had gone adrift the day before from a big fleet bound to the Windward Islands under convoy of one twenty-gun ship, two fourteen-gun brigs, and one sixteen-gun sloop.
On learning this Captain Thompson carefully noted the positions of the different men-of-war in the squadron, and learned the code of signals in use in the fleet, the necessary flags for signalling having been taken from the Nancy. He then headed away in pursuit.
At noon on the 3d he had overhauled the fleet, and from that time until daylight of the 4th he was busy trying to cut out some of the merchantmen without exciting suspicion. By signalling to the Alfred with the captured code, he succeeded in concealing his character effectually; but on the morning of the 4th he gave up the hope of getting a merchantman, and sought a fight instead. Leaving the Alfred, that was too slow for the enterprise, behind, he steered with closed ports right through the fleet until in an advantageous position on the weather side of one of the brigs, the Druid, when he opened up his ports, set his flag, and fired a broadside into the unsuspecting Britisher.
The effect of the broadside upon the other ships of the fleet was picturesque. Everywhere the pipe of the boatswain to call all hands was heard. On every ship the men ran to and fro to crowd on sail, while every tiller was thrown up or down as every ship strove to get as far away from every other ship as possible. For no one knew what minute another supposed cargo-carrier would prove to be a Yankee warship.
Meantime Captain Thompson fired volley after volley into the Druid, receiving only a feeble fire in return, until the brig was so well wrecked that she had to return to England. Her loss, according to Captain Carteret, who commanded her, was six killed and twenty-six wounded, he himself being among the severely wounded.
But, although badly cut up, the Druid did not surrender; and when the other two warships, with several of the best-armed merchantmen who had recovered from the panic, drew near, the Raleigh squared away and returned to the Alfred.
Rightly considered, it was not an exploit to excite the pride of the American naval officer, for the Raleigh had more guns than the two brigs together, and should have been almost a match for all three of the warships. American sailors had not yet reached the efficiency as man-o’-warsmen that afterwards made them famous.