If all who gave in their names to Brook Watson at the commissariat office actually embarked for St. John in the June fleet, it would appear that nearly two thousand persons were carried in that fleet. But it is not unlikely that some of those who gave in their names did not go at this time. Among the papers in the archives at Halifax, there is a copy of a “Return of Loyalists, etc., gone from New York to Nova Scotia as pr. returns in the Commissary General’s office.” The original was compiled at New York, Oct., 12, 1783, by Richard Fitzpatrick, and at the bottom he adds the significant words—“The above is made from returns left in the commissary general’s office, but it is probable the numbers actually gone will fall far short.” The chief reason for supposing this to have been the case in regard to the summer fleet is the publication of the following official return, signed by Sir Guy Carleton, in one of the newspapers of the day.
Return of Refugees Embarked for Nova Scotia.
New York, 17th June, 1783.
Men. Women. Children. Servants. Total. For St. John’s River 443 283 670 258 1654 For Annapolis Royal 46 37 76 46 205 For Port Roseway 34 15 39 34 122 For Fort Cumberland 175 86 216 14 491 Total 698 421 1001 352 2472 GUY CARLETON.
| Men. | Women. | Children. | Servants. | Total. | |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| For St. John’s River | 443 | 283 | 670 | 258 | 1654 |
| For Annapolis Royal | 46 | 37 | 76 | 46 | 205 |
| For Port Roseway | 34 | 15 | 39 | 34 | 122 |
| For Fort Cumberland | 175 | 86 | 216 | 14 | 491 |
| Total | 698 | 421 | 1001 | 352 | 2472 |
It may be safer to take the figures in Sir Guy Carleton’s list; but whichever list we take, the numbers are sufficient to make the arrival of the summer fleet a thing of considerable importance. The names of nearly all the captains of the companies of Loyalists, who sailed in the fleet are found amongst the grantees of Parrtown.
The diary of Sarah Frost, who was a passenger to St. John in the ship “Two Sisters,” throws much light upon the circumstances that attended the voyage. Sarah (Schofield) Frost was the wife of William Frost, a sturdy loyalist of Stamford. He 355 was proscribed and banished and threatened with death if he ever returned to Connecticut. He did return, however, on the night of July 21, 1781, accompanied by an armed party in seven boats. The boats were secreted and the party placed themselves in hiding in a swamp near the meeting house. The next day, which was Sunday, they surprised and captured the minister, Rev. Dr. Mather, and his entire congregation. A selection of the prisoners was quickly made, and forty-eight individuals were hurried away to the boats and taken across the sound to Lloyd’s Neck, where they were greeted in no complimentary fashion by some of their old neighbors whom they had driven from their homes. Twenty-four of the prisoners were allowed to go back to Stamford on parole. The remainder, twenty-six in number, were sent to the provost prison in New York. Dr. Mather was one of those consigned to the provost, as a “leader of sedition.” Needless to say this exploit rendered Wm. Frost exceedingly obnoxious to the “patriots” of Stamford. The parents of Mrs. Frost espoused the cause of the revolutionary party, and her’s was one of those sad cases in which families were divided by the war.
The extracts from her journal will enable the reader to have a good idea of some of the trials endured by those who left their old homes for the sake of the principles they cherished.
“May 25, 1783. I left Lloyd’s Neck with my family and went on board the Two Sisters, commanded by Captain Brown, for a voyage to Nova Scotia with the rest of the Loyalist sufferers. This evening the Captain drank tea with us. He appears to be a very clever gentleman. We expect to sail as soon as the wind shall favor. We have very fair accommodation in the cabin, although it contains six families besides my own. There are two hundred and fifty passengers on board.”
A few days later the ships proceeded to New York, and then there followed an uncomfortable period of waiting. They hoped to have sailed on the 9th of June, having been already a fortnight on shipboard, but it was not until a week later that they got away. While at New York the passengers spent much of their time on shore, visiting their friends and making purchases of things needed on the voyage. Mrs. Frost had a touching interview with her father, who came in a boat from Stamford to bid her farewell. She writes under date of Monday, June 9th; “Our women all came on board with their children, and there is great confusion in the cabin. We bear with it pretty well through the day, but at night one child cries in one place, and one in another, while we are getting them to bed. I think sometimes I will go crazy. There are so many of them, if they were still as common, there would be a great noise amongst them.”
Two days later the ships weighed anchor and dropped down to Staten Island where they remained until Sunday the 15th of June, when Mrs. Frost writes: “Our ship is getting under way, I suppose for Nova Scotia. I hope for a good passage. About three o’clock we have a hard gale and a shower which drives us all below. About five o’clock we come to anchor within about six miles of the Light House at Sandy Hook. How long we shall lie here I don’t know. About six o’clock we had a terrible squall and hail stones fell as big as ounce balls. About sunset there was another squall and it hailed faster than before. Mr. Frost went out and gathered 356 a mug full of hail stones, and in the evening we had a glass of punch made of it, and the ice was in it till we had drank the whole of it.”
“Monday, June 16. We weighed anchor about half after five in the morning, with the wind North-Nor’-West, and it blows very fresh. We passed the Light House about half after seven. It is now half after nine and a signal has been fired for the ships all to lie to for the Bridgewater, which seems to lag behind, I believe on account of some misfortune that happened to her yesterday.... It is now two o’clock and we have again got under way. We have been waiting for a ship to come from New York, and she has now overhauled us.[141] We have a very light breeze now, but have at last got all our fleet together. We have thirteen Ships, two Brigs, one Frigate belonging to our fleet. The Frigate is our Commodore’s. It is now three o’clock, we are becalmed and the men are out fishing for Mackerel. Mr. Miles has caught the first.”
“Thursday, June 19. We are still steering eastward with a fine breeze. We make seven miles an hour the chief part of the day. About noon we shift our course and are steering North by East. At two o’clock the Captain says we are 250 miles from Sandy Hook, with the wind West-Nor’-West. At six o’clock we saw a sail ahead. She crowded sail and put off from us, but our frigate knew how to talk to her, for at half past seven she gave her a shot which caused her to shorten sail and lie to. Our captain looked with his spy glass; he told me she was a Rebel brig; he saw her thirteen stripes. She was steering to the westward. The wind blows so high this evening, I am afraid to go to bed for fear of rolling out.”
“Friday 20th. This morning our Frigate fired a signal to shift our course to North-Nor’-East. We have still fine weather and a fair wind. Mr. Emslie, the mate, tells me we are, at five in the afternoon, about 500 miles from Sandy Hook. We begin to see the fog come on, for that is natural to this place. At six our Commodore fired for the ships to lie to until those behind should come up. Mr. Emslie drank tea with Mr. Frost and myself. The fog comes on very thick this evening.”
“Saturday, June 21. Rose at 8 o’clock. It was so foggy we could not see one ship belonging to the fleet. They rang their bells and fired guns all the morning to keep company. About half after ten the fog all went off, so that we saw the chief part of our fleet around us. At noon the fog came on again, but we could hear their bells all around us. This evening the Captain showed Mr. Frost and me the map of the whole way we have come and the way we have yet to go. He told us we are 240 miles from Nova Scotia at this time. It is so foggy we lost all our company tonight and we are entirely alone.
“Sunday, June 22. It is very foggy yet. No ship in sight now, nor any bells to be heard. Towards noon we heard some guns fired from our fleet, but could not tell where they was. The fog was so thick we could not see ten rods, and the wind is so ahead that we have not made ten miles since yesterday noon.
“Monday, June 23. Towards noon the fog goes off fast, and in the afternoon we could see several of our vessels; one came close alongside of us. Mr. Emslie says we are an hundred and forty miles from land now. In the evening the wind becomes fair, the fog seems to leave us and the sun looks very pleasant. Mr. Whitney and his wife, Mr. Frost and I, have been diverting ourselves with a few games of crib.”