John Barry: An American Hero in the Age of Sail Part 2

A possible British move on the city failed to affect the profiteering of Philadelphia's merchants. Washington's Quartermaster General, Thomas Mifflin, now had the wherewithal to invest in several ships that eluded capture while sailing to the Caribbean and back for much needed goods, yielding him better than a 50 percent profit on his investment.19 Robert Morris, for all the countless hours he devoted to his country's finances, still found time to ask an old colleague to "buy a good prize vessel, double-decked[,] and pick up a cargo . . . from France . . . masts, spars, beeswax . . . perl and polish, fish . . . are wanted in our country and will answer well if laid in at modest prices."20 Once a businessman, always a businessman, at least until those 267 British ships showed up.

While Congress pondered action and Philadelphians tried to keep a lid on panic, Barry dealt with a crisis of authority. On July 23, he issued a summons to other Continental officers in port to serve on a court martial.21 No officers showed. Instead, he received a group reply from the twelve lieutenants he had summoned to duty: "As we, the Subscribers are determined not to act upon any Court Martial, or others on Board any Vessel of War until our Grievances are redressed . . . we beg you will not take it amiss at our not attending your summons."22 If this was not mutiny, it was close.

Their "Grievances" could be summed up in one word: money. They had pet.i.tioned the Marine Committee for an increase in pay, as the navy's surgeons had recently done. But while Congress approved the surgeons' request, they denied that of the lieutenants. A meeting with Robert Morris brought no further a.s.sistance on their behalf. They saw Barry's orders as an opportunity to show their solidarity on the issue. Barry immediately notified Congress, which replied that very same day: it was "necessary for the public service to make examples of such offenders," and resolved that the lieutenants be "dismissed the Continental service . . . and their commissions rendered void and of no effect." To Barry's chagrin, his first lieutenant from the Lexington, Luke Matthewman, was among them.23 But Congress's speedy dismissal of all twelve officers resulted in their own swift response: an apology. One of the twelve, Thomas Vaughn by name, pet.i.tioned Congress the very next day, stating that he had not "signed the paper addressed to John Barry, Esqr."24 Henry Laurens, writing on July 25, noted the success of Congress's actions: "This Resolution proclaimed humble Pet.i.tioners from the whole. They are now reinstated and I suppose Business will go forward again."25 In the rebellion for independence, rebellion in the service would surface and resurface throughout the war, on land and sea.

That challenge to authority resolved, Hopkinson informed Barry and Read on July 31 that they were "hereby authorized to look at and take such Rigging" and "bend as much Sail as you may enable to run [their ships] up the River to some Place of Safety." With further orders to give "a Recpt to the Owners for whatever you take" and a condescending, parting directive to "conduct this Business with all Decency and Direction," the two captains found what sails and rigging they could. Soon their unfinished warships were ready to sail up the Delaware.26 Barry found the order to flee the coming fight an odious one. For the meantime, the frigates remained docked in Philadelphia.

The order served as a twofold message to Barry, who had no trouble reading between the lines. Hopkinson was tacitly acknowledging that the Effingham and Washington would not be finished in time for the impending British advance, and sailing them north made it unlikely that he would command the combined naval forces in defense of the Delaware. The city's most experienced captain, with the most successful record against the British, faced being shunted aside yet again.

On August 22, Congress received word that the Brothers Howe had sailed up the Chesapeake and reached the Head of Elk, where William's army marched north in a "back door" advance through southeastern Pennsylvania.27 Howe issued a "Declaration" on August 27, addressed to Washington's army and offering "a free and general pardon to all such Officers and private Men as shall voluntarily come and surrender themselves to any Detachment of his Majesty's Forces."28 Washington, in an attempt to raise the city's morale (and give some degree of pause to the city's expectant Tories) marched his Continentals through Philadelphia, his soldiers wearing optimistic sprigs of green leaves in their hats. They headed south, where they met Howe's redcoats three weeks later on September 11 at Brandywine Creek. Over a long, b.l.o.o.d.y day, Howe once again outmaneuvered and outfought Washington, claiming the field. By the nineteenth, British skirmishers reached the outskirts of Philadelphia.29 That day, Washington's young aide Colonel Alexander Hamilton carried a message to Hanc.o.c.k, informing him that Congress should leave Philadelphia immediately. "Congress was chased like a covey of partridges from Philadelphia to Trenton, from Trenton to Lancaster," John Adams wrote before he rode to safety on his own swift mount.30 As the enemy advanced, seizing food and supplies along the way, British soldiers under Major General Charles "No Flint" Grey a.s.saulted Anthony Wayne's brigade just before dawn at their Paoli encampment. Bayonets, sabers, and claymores cut down many an American soldier.31 While they did not flee with the speed of Congress, Philadelphia's patriots began their exodus as well. Most of the Austin family made their preparations to go to the family summer home in Reading, thirty-five miles northwest of Philadelphia. Barry barely had time for a proper farewell to Sarah. She and her brother Isaac helped Reynold Keen a.s.sist his pregnant wife Christiana and their children pack their belongings. After kissing Sarah goodbye, Barry returned to the Effingham and his preparations for sailing up the Delaware.32 Keen, along with William Austin and his family, remained in Philadelphia.

The panic along the waterfront was reminiscent of Barry's departure on the Black Prince two years earlier. But this time, carts and wagons were not hauling market goods to the ships in port. As soon as they were overloaded with goods, they were driven out of town, up King's Road to York, Reading, and Lancaster.33 They would not be escaping on the Arch Street Ferry. Philadelphia's leading Tory, Joseph Galloway, asked William Austin "to take care that no Goods" be "carried away from this City."34 Austin's devotion to his duty would prove costly, beginning that very day. While keeping the ferry free from patriot misuse, one thousand gallons of spermaceti-just purchased by Austin for immediate and profitable resale-was stolen. He estimated its worth at over 225.35 The Effingham and Washington departed on September 25. Barry and Read, with skeleton crews consisting of a few seasoned hands and invalid soldiers, got all of the Navy Board's supplies and doc.u.ments aboard their ships. Hopkinson and Wharton took pa.s.sage on the Mercury packet, accompanying the frigates upriver. John Nixon, Barry's old employer and member of the Navy Board triumvirate, remained in Philadelphia with his militia battalion.36 For all intents and purposes, the Navy Board was now a twosome, dominated by Hopkinson.

Congress might have delayed in making their choice between Barry and Hazelwood to command the coming fight against Admiral Howe's ships, but Washington now made his preference known: he wanted Hazelwood.37 His decision was sound; being relegated to the Delaware the past two years, Hazelwood had a better knowledge of the river and its defenses than Barry and was therefore best suited for the job.

"Black d.i.c.k" Howe was coming, his mighty fleet having reentered the Delaware Bay.38 This was not going to be a nautical dustup like the Roebuck affair the year before. This was the full might of King George's Navy paying a call; the British would not stop the forthcoming attack until every American ship in sight was sunk or captured, and every American sailor was in retreat, in irons, or dead. Lewis Nicola, one of the erstwhile designers of the Delaware gun boats and now a "Colonel of Invalids," ordered "every decked Vessel" be "taken up to Burlington & put under care of the naval officer commanding there."39 The river was being cleared for fighting.

Barry's pa.s.sage up the Delaware bore one intriguing incident. "A few miles from Philadelphia," Barry later recalled, a rowboat approached the Effingham, bringing a messenger to see the captain. Barry ushered him into his cabin. Now that they had their privacy, the messenger presented Barry with "a large offer of 15,000 Guineas" if Barry would "come in with the ship." Barry's visitor offered another enticement: if he wished, Barry could retain command of the Effingham under British colors, with "the Com[mission] of her in the King's Service."40 Acceptance of the proposal would make Barry very rich, indeed.

At first, the offer to turn traitor stunned Barry, but it soon triggered his temper, especially coming after the piled-up events of invasion, parting from his new bride, and his bitter retreat upriver and away from the coming fight. With an angry, clear voice, Barry "spurned the eydee of being a Traitor to [my] Country," and sent the emissary back where he came from.41 The notion that the agent acting on Howe's behalf was someone Barry knew well has been a subject of conjecture by historians. William Bell Clark, for one, wrote that "from Barry's extreme reticence on the subject, we would surmise the visitor was actually a close friend." Clark opined that "only a life-long friend could have come away unscathed at liberty from the Effingham after proposing such treason to John Barry."42 As a captain's commission was inferred, the offer probably originated from Lord Howe. There were certainly enough British naval officers, starting with Hamond, who could attest to Barry's fighting capabilities.43 It is extremely rare for any cloak-and-dagger escapades to leave a paper trail. That is the best way to get caught-John Andre comes to mind. Historians have suggested that the offer could have been made by one of Barry's merchant contacts with Tory connections. For example, Thomas Willing remained in Philadelphia after the British took over. He sent Barry's friend John Brown to Robert Morris, with an offer from General Howe to end the war if Congress renounced the Declaration of Independence. Brown was immediately suspected of being a traitor and jailed by the Council of Safety. He was released only after Morris risked his own reputation in defending Brown's innocence.44 Two figures that beg suspicion are Barry's in-laws, William Austin and Reynold Keen-especially Austin. Where Keen enlisted in a loyalist regiment, Austin, in addition to his duties with the ferry, "was active as a Guard," serving watch at night "to prevent the Town being set on fire by the Rebels." Once General Howe was ensconced in Philadelphia, Austin "exerted his best Services in procuring Provisions for the Troops."45 But he did not stop there: throughout the British occupation, he tirelessly worked "obtaining Intelligence for the Commander in Chief" and accepted a commission in a loyalist regiment. Austin later wrote to Sarah that his "treasonous offense" saved their home and business from confiscation by the Crown.46 Some historians call the Revolution America's first civil war, and Barry and Austin certainly prove their point: brother against brother-in-law.

Whether Austin or Keen was Howe's envoy to Barry is not known. Later, Barry would spend considerable time and effort trying to keep these two wayward relations (especially William) out of both prison and the hangman's noose. But the only known facts of the incident are that (a) Barry turned the offer down and (b) he never revealed who made it.47 From Lancaster, the Marine Committee sent out a flurry of orders that same day, responding to the imminent approach of Lord Howe's armada. Plans were hastily made for the defense of Philadelphia's waterway. Following Washington's lead, they placed the Continental ships in port under Hazelwood's command.48 With orders to "defend the pa.s.sage of the River to the last extremity" they gave him complete authority over every ship, row-galley, floating battery, and fireship.49 Howe kept the main force of his army with him outside the city in nearby Germantown and sent Cornwallis into Philadelphia on September 26, leading a force composed mainly of British and Hessian Grenadiers. They were welcomed by crowds made up of Tory and Quaker families.50 Accompanying Cornwallis at the head of the procession was a contingent of loyalists led by Joseph Galloway.51 One Philadelphia boy recalled in later years that I went up to the front ranks of the Grenadiers where they had entered Second street when several of them addressed me thus: "How do you do, young one. -How are you, my boy."-In a benefactory tone. . . . They reached out their hands . . . and caught mine and shook it . . . with a sympathizing tone for the vanquished. The Hessians . . . their looks to me were terrific-their bra.s.s caps-their mustaches-their countenances, by nature morose; and their music, it sounded better English then they themselves speak-plunder-plunder-plunder-gave a despairing, heartbreaking effect . . . to me it was dreadful.52 That same afternoon the Effingham and Washington reached Burlington, New Jersey. The following morning, Barry and Read took on some militiamen no longer in condition to join the fighting. Lack of wind kept the retreating ships from making any significant progress the next day. From the south, Barry could hear the echoes of cannon fire. The battle for the Delaware had begun.53 With the British occupying and fortifying Philadelphia above the American forts and ships, and Howe's mighty fleet sailing upriver behind them, the outcome was foreordained.

On September 27, a small squadron led by the Delaware, Fly, and state ship Montgomery approached Philadelphia to bombard Cornwallis's batteries. Charles Alexander, in charge of the attack, carried a letter admonishing "the Commanding Officer of the British Army at Philadelphia" that "the Blo[o]d of the Women & Children [would] lay at your Door."54 Alexander brought the Delaware closer to the wharves, but not to deliver his letter. "At 1/2 past 8 . . . Two of the Rebel Frigates and 5 row Gallies came up with the Tide," recalled Captain John Montresor, Cornwallis's chief engineer and the man responsible for the speedily placed British batteries (as well as the design of the river fort now occupied by the Americans). "We opened upon them and the artillery being extremely well directed [at] their best Frigate the Delaware which got somewhat aground, struck to us."55 Alexander's surrender gave the British a captured frigate for their use above the American line of defense. The Delaware had six of her sailors wounded and one killed-her cook, decapitated by a cannonball.56 If anything, the battle was a testimony to the deadly accuracy of the British artillerymen. The Montgomery was dismasted in the battle, and two other schooners ran aground. Those American ships that could withdraw did, sailing back to Fort Mifflin.57 Much to their frustration, Barry and Read literally remained above the fray while their boss, Hopkinson, wrote to Washington, informing him that "We have Cannon [and] Ammunition . . . but have not men."58 Washington was too busy with his own plans to reply. On October 4 he attacked the British forces at Germantown, the violent cacophony within earshot of Philadelphians. By dusk a victory nearly won became just another bitter defeat.59 It was one more wave in a seemingly endless cascade of bad news for the Americans. Downriver, Barry's fellow patriots were locked in a desperate fight while he remained in safety at White Hill, captain of a beautifully built but unfinished and barely armed frigate. He could hear the hated British guns as they conquered his adopted home.

After Germantown the focus of battle shifted back to the Delaware. Faced with a shortage of seamen for Hazelwood and soldiers for Forts Mifflin and Mercer, Washington ordered all sailors in the Continental Army to report to Hazelwood, and then sent an emissary to White Hill to summon sailors from the Effingham and Washington. In a rare instance of defiance to Washington, Hopkinson refused, citing the need to defend the frigates.60 Vexed by their inability to contribute to the American effort, Barry and Read were nonetheless busily preparing to defend their ships. Although short of men, cannons, and ammunition, Barry believed that he and Read "had taken every measure to defend their vessels from all [future] attempts of the enemy." Requisitioning every piece of ordnance they could get their hands on from nearby merchant ships, they came up with twenty-three guns between them: "twelves, sixes, and four pounders." Realizing that arming the frigates was the best defense for their own ships, the merchant captains readily turned them over, along with enough sailors to give each frigate approximately eighty hands, "ready for action at the shortest notice." Furthermore, Barry and Read had a barge and longboat each armed with small cannons, and were asking "men from the shallops that were coming down from Trenton" to join them.61 If he could not go to war, at least Barry would be ready when the war came to him.

He returned to the phantom gunnery practice from his Lexington days. During the drills and preparations being made on October 23, he and his men heard a deafening blast from downriver, the likes of which had not occurred in that part of the country since Barry blew up the Nancy. Under fire from Fort Mifflin's guns and those from Hazelwood's row-galleys, the British ship-of-the-line Augusta, sixty-four guns, ran aground. She caught fire and soon exploded, the largest British ship ever lost to Americans in wartime.62 But this victory only delayed the inevitable. On November 10, the British began the heaviest bombardment of the entire war, directed at Fort Mifflin. Each British gun was ordered to fire eighty rounds of shot that day. The Americans in the fort, outnumbered and outgunned, were so lacking in ammunition that they bravely retrieved British cannonb.a.l.l.s and fired them back at the enemy. At nighttime they worked frantically to repair as best they could the damage done to their ever-weakening walls. American gunners also inflicted casualties among the enemy, and Montresor's men were kept busy at night replacing smashed guns and repairing their defenses.63 On November 11, Lieutenant Colonel Samuel Smith, the fort's commander, was severely wounded.64 By the fourteenth, the fort was reduced to unrecognizable rubble. On the fifteenth, the garrison realized that they could no longer withstand the siege. The heroic survivors set fire to what was left of the fort and abandoned it that night, crossing over to Fort Mercer.65 Within a few days, that fort's position became untenable. With help from Hazelwood, the Americans evacuated Fort Mercer on November 20. The British were in possession of the Delaware from Philadelphia to the sea.

The defeat resulted in finger-pointing from both sides. Sailors blamed soldiers for not attacking the sh.o.r.e batteries and soldiers blamed sailors for not doing more from their vessels. The only bright bit of news during this bleak autumn came from New York, where an army under Major General Horatio Gates (brilliantly led, in truth, by Benedict Arnold) thoroughly defeated the British forces under Burgoyne at Saratoga. It was heartening news, especially to Benjamin Franklin in Paris, who now finally had the legitimate victory he needed to support his plea for an open French alliance.66 And it was certainly more accurate than the news Franklin had received from a misinformed congressman who had written him that "Captain Bar[r]y has recaptured the frigate Delaware recently took by the English."67 Throughout October, Washington deliberated over what to do with the Effingham and Washington. At month's end he decided on their fate, and relayed his wishes to Hopkinson on October 27: The more I reflect upon the evil that may arise from the Enemies Possessing themselves of our Frigates up the Delaware, the more convinced I am of the indispensable obligation we are under to prevent it, effectively. If no other method could be devised, I should be for absolutely burning them; but scuttling them and sinking [them] . . . will, in my judgment answer the end... At present, these Ships are of no use to us, whilst the hands are greatly wanted. . . . If I have stepped out of line of my duty to make this request, I am persuaded you will excuse it.68 Upon receipt of Washington's dispatch, Hopkinson and Wharton ordered Barry and Read to make a list of "returns" of their crews without telling them the reason behind this order. Unaware that the end result was to be the sinking of his command, Barry immediately presented his list, including officers, crew, and those recently a.s.signed militiamen. Then Hopkinson, using his best diplomatic language, wrote Washington that his orders were being followed-to a point. Hopkinson intended to lighten the frigates and bring them up the shallow waterways along the Delaware above Bordentown. But, while the general's request was "a Law to us," he did not want to scuttle the ships "till the Enemy has got up to the City with their Shipping."69 Washington immediately responded with his second letter of the day. Citing the "letter which I wrote you a few hours ago . . . urging the necessity of Scuttling the Frigates immediately," he then pressed his demands, based on a report from "An intelligent Lad from Philadelphia" who "says they [the British] may have their Eye upon the Frigates above." Therefore, Washington "advise[d]" Hopkinson "to sink, not only them, immediately upon receipt of this, but every other Vessel."70 These new orders immediately became a law to Hopkinson and Wharton. They dispatched a messenger to Barry and Read: they were to sail their ships back down to White Hill, two miles below Bordentown, and await further orders.71 Three days of punishing rain had raised the river, giving Barry and Read a muddy two-mile journey to make. The next day, they were summoned to Bordentown.

Upon their arrival at the Navy Board's "office"-one of the homes on Bordentown's riverbank-only Barry was brought in to meet Hopkinson and Wharton.72 Dispensing with any pleasantries, Hopkinson handed Barry his orders: "As we understand your Ship is now scuttled & ready for sinking, you are hereby directed to remove her a little below White Hill, and having found a suitable Birth where she may lye on a soft Bottom and be easily got off at a common Tide, you are to sink her there without further Delay. We expect this Business will be completed by Sun-Set this Evening, and report thereof made to this Board."73 The more Barry read, the angrier he became. With no explanation to support the frigates' sinking, and no acknowledgment of the trip the two captains had made in the pelting rain to receive an order that could have easily been dispatched to them as before by messenger, Hopkinson summarily dismissed the drenched and speechless Irishman.74 Barry stomped out the door to find his voice and fellow captain.

Returning to their ships, Barry and Read vented their anger over both Hopkinson's orders and his conduct. Here were two captains pent up for weeks above the desperate battle for their home. Washington had called for their men, but not for them. And now, to be treated like a couple of shavetails by Wharton and Hopkinson-especially Hopkinson-was truly demeaning. They were men of action, not words, and now the call to action they had been waiting for turned out to be instructions to sink their untried ships of war.

But orders were orders. Being shorthanded, it took longer than Hopkinson expected or wanted for the captains to remove the ordnance, ammunition, and other supplies from their ships. There was no way they could keep to Hopkinson's timetable. At noon on the following day, Read went back to Bordentown to hire more men. He returned empty-handed, except for new orders from Wharton: the frigates were to be sunk, either that evening or the following morning.75 If Read was angry upon receipt of these commands, Barry was apoplectic. They stormed back to the Navy Board offices, barging in on Hopkinson and Wharton. Barry's temper already was on a short fuse, and now the disdain in which the previous day's orders were given ignited a two-man war. In one corner, Francis Hopkinson: "well over four feet" as the Irish say of short stature, whose brilliance outshone almost all of his contemporaries. In the other corner, John Barry: six feet four, and as able a fighter and sailor as in the navy. One of the best educated patriots versus one of the least educated. Unctuous flattery to superiors and imperiousness to subordinates opposed honesty and directness. The brightest man in the room was pitted against the bravest man in the room.

Barry confronted Hopkinson with the news of Wharton's order to Read, a repeat of the one Hopkinson handed Barry the day before. Hopkinson, whose dealings with Barry were patronizing at best, verified Wharton's order and repeated to Barry that the ships were to be sunk immediately. Barry, not for the first time, brought up the measures he and Read had taken, adding that the "heavy fresh in the river, occurred by the great rain which fell at that time, made it impossible for the Enemies' boats to come up." Barry felt the two frigates could be "easily destroyed" anytime and told Hopkinson that "were General Washington fully acquainted with the setting of the ships, he would not order them sunk." Agreeing that they could be sunk "should the event happen," Barry offered "to go to his excel[lenc]y the General and give him full information of all that had been done."76 Hopkinson's reply was cuttingly cool: sinking the ships would not be a mistake, although he himself thought so only a few days before. In fact, Hopkinson pointed out, the board already wrote Washington that the ships would be sunk and that "should [Hopkinson] disobey one jot of [Washington's] orders they would rather the whole thirteen frigates should be sunk." Hopkinson then informed Barry and Read that "His Excellency the General had been informed by a lad from Philadelphia that the enemy were preparing boats, and the frigates might possibly be their object." In his explanation Hopkinson stressed Washington's authority, but what Barry heard was that the decision to sink the frigates was based on the word of a mere boy. He reiterated that "Boats could not board us." Hopkinson's reply was that "he would take General Washington's opinion" over Barry's.77 The lawyer had been using his words and tone to make Barry cower, but Hopkinson's last barb only provoked him further: "I told [Hopkinson] I did not doubt that," he replied, "but . . . nevertheless I knew more about a ship then General Washington and the Navy Board together."78 Barry let the remark lay there. Then he struck at Hopkinson's weak spot-his vanity. He told Hopkinson that in Barry's opinion, only the Marine Committee could direct him to sink his ship: "I was commanded by Congress to command her, and therefore expected to be consulted before she was destroyed."79 The lawyer had played his trump card, invoking Washington's seniority over Barry's. Now the sea captain's trump was played, invoking the authority of Congress over Hopkinson.

Barry's defiance sent the little lawyer into a tantrum. Abandoning his usual sing-song tone, Hopkinson screamed, "You shall obey our orders!" Read, seeing his friend "In a high dudgeon," realized that no good was coming of this escalated bickering, and led (perhaps shoved) Barry out the door.80 A thick fog accompanied by a heavy frost greeted Barry, Read, and their crews at daybreak on November 2, as they a.s.sembled at the riverbank for the distasteful task.81 Overnight all remaining stores and ordnance were removed from the Effingham and Washington. Their masts were brought down, taking away the frigates' majestic appearance. Stout lines, purchases, and every set of block and tackle in White Hill were in readiness to secure the ships, while their anchors would be dropped at the appropriate second to offset the pressure from the water that would be rushing into the ship after her plugs were removed. Barry sent word to Hopkinson that all was ready.82 Sinking the frigates in a manner that would allow them to be recovered afterward required precision and near-perfect timing. The object was to sink them into the Delaware's banks, thereby ensuring that they would not pose a hazard to traffic in the river. It required them to be sunk at the peak of high tide. Move too early and the tide would push the frigates forward and possibly break the ships apart. Wait too long and the commencement of low tide would pull the ships inexorably into the middle of the river. It was also a dangerous process, especially for the carpenters below deck, whose job it was to hammer out the plugs. The water would immediately rush into the ship so fast that it could suck them under before they escaped. One mariner who wrote of his success in sinking two ships recounted how: The tide bore upon us very heavy, we found that [the ships] would sink in two minutes . . . in an instant the cable parted from the ship we were on board of, which carried her bow round about thirty degrees before she struck the bottom . . . we sprang to the boat, and the vortex was so great it was with difficulty they could prevent the boat from following the ship, although they sprang at the oars with all their might. . . . The torrent of water in upon her was indescribable, and the water that came from her gangway ascended nearly twenty feet into the air.83 Later that afternoon, Hopkinson arrived at White Hill, and quickly gave orders to "head the ships ash.o.r.e." There was enough remaining daylight to sink them by sunset, just as he ordered. Then he did the unthinkable.

Hopkinson had himself rowed aboard the Effingham to personally supervise her sinking. Whether he did this to establish his total authority over the act, to publicly humiliate Barry, or for both reasons, he never bothered to explain. "Not satisfied with giving orders, Mr. Hopkinson came on board my ship himself," Barry recalled. The captain obediently stepped aside, and Hopkinson gave orders to haul both ships on sh.o.r.e and sink them.84 Barry might object to sinking his own ship, but Francis Hopkinson-lawyer, congressman, designer of the American flag, and Navy Board official-was more than willing to do so. In stepping aside, Barry cooperated.

The tide, however, did not. Hopkinson may very well have known maritime laws as well as any man alive, but he was evidently ignorant of the laws of nature. Nor was he aware of the watchlike precision this procedure required. With his pen dipped in sarcasm, Barry later wrote, "This was the wrong time of the tide." Still, Barry stepped aside, and watched in silence as his ship struck "soft bottom."85 Barry recalled, "As soon as she struck ground, he [Hopkinson] ordered the plugs out."86 Upon hearing the order from above deck, Barry's carpenters swung their heavy mallets at the plugs. Blessed with Hopkinson's absence on his own deck, Read could only watch in horror at what happened next.

Standing next to Hopkinson, Barry had a perfect view of the consequences of Hopkinson's orders. Rather than heel toward sh.o.r.e and sink against it, the water rushed into the frigate "so fast we could not heel the ship to the bank, in consequence which she lay upon her beam ends, and was very near oversetting," her captain reported.87 Francis Hopkinson and the Effingham were victims of the tide table. A waterspout gushed through the frigate's hatchway as the carpenters, thoroughly soaked, struggled to reach the deck. The ship came perilously close to "turtling"-capsizing. With a salon dancer's agility, the head of the Navy Board managed to get off the frigate without hurting himself and ordered his boat rowed to sh.o.r.e.

It is not known whether Hopkinson officially returned command back to Barry, but once the omniscient lawyer abandoned the sinking ship, Barry rea.s.sumed responsibility for his men's safety. He ordered them back to their boat, and then got in himself. By the time they reached the riverbank, Hopkinson had already slunk off to Bordentown. To Barry the sight of his frigate lying on her beam-ends in the Delaware seemed like a monstrous practical joke, played on himself.88 Hours later Read, acting without Hopkinson's a.s.sistance, brought the Washington alongsh.o.r.e and removed her plugs at the proper time, sinking her correctly and safely. The next morning Barry visited his frigate, her ma.s.sive hull half-drowned in the river. The Effingham was literally a trapped derelict. With a sigh, he rode to Bordentown to acquaint Hopkinson of the ship's wretched condition.

Where Barry-having seen that his silent obedience had resulted in his beautiful ship's wretched state-was in a more docile mood, Hopkinson had recovered from his embarra.s.sment and rediscovered his considerable ego. After Barry "acquainted the Board with the situation of the ship," Hopkinson replied that "it was a misfortune, and that we must do the best to remedy it." The captain replied that "nothing on my part should be wanting." With Hopkinson's permission to "hire all the hands I wanted," Barry returned to White Hill and the task of correcting the all but uncorrectable.89 And it was uncorrectable. Barry could not obtain close to "all the hands I wanted" without having to "coax them [with] extravagant wages." Two efforts over the next three days to raise the Effingham failed. Unable to succeed with this combined force of his own crew, the sailors from the Washington, and his few, high-priced "volunteers," Barry knew that a third attempt would require considerably more men. Hopkinson, however, viewed Barry's failures as a further slap at his authority.90 To make matters worse for Hopkinson, he had just received a letter from Washington who, unaware that his orders were not exactly obeyed, ordered that "all other vessels being capable of being converted into armed ships" be immediately sunk.91 Hopkinson, in humble tones that would have made Uriah Heep blush, replied immediately: "The Frigates have been long since sunk, & now lie fit aground in a Place where they can receive no Danger from the Ice & cannot possibly be got off by the Enemy . . . we have a secret Gage that will enable us to raise them with Ease when a suitable Time shall offer." With the innocuous disclosure that "in sinking of the [Effingham], she unfortunately lay against a steep Bank whereon the Tides falling, caused her to heel outwards from the Sh.o.a.r"-a comment that spared him any responsibility-Hopkinson dispatched his letter to Washington's headquarters in Whitemarsh.92 An early snow fell on the Delaware Valley over the next two days.93 Afterward, Barry sent notice to the board that he would make a third attempt to raise the Effingham, and received word that "Mr. Hopkinson would come down and raise her himself. This insult I overlooked," Barry recollected, "having the getting of the ship much at heart." The sky cleared around ten that morning, and Barry requested as many of Colonel Lewis Nicola's invalids "as they could send," believing that in getting as many hands as possible the third try would be the charm. Barry and his men waited in the cold for Nicola's men to show up.94 Finally, at "About one o'clock a sergeant & six or seven invalids came to my a.s.sistance." If Hopkinson saw Barry's failure to raise the Effingham as insolence, Barry judged Hopkinson's failure to cooperate as downright incompetence. When he asked the sergeant why so few men had arrived for the prodigious task, he was told that Hopkinson and Wharton called only for "men as were well-attired" to come and a.s.sist.95 With his own crew listening to this conversation in tattered sailcloth and rags, while the cold wind swept upriver, stinging the men's faces and setting their teeth to chattering, Barry sent everyone back to the task at hand.

Having "collected all the seamen I could," Barry gave orders "and [the men] began to heave upon the purchases."96 The "purchases"-consisting of every means of increasing power and leverage Barry could find, from block and tackle to a jury-rigged windla.s.s-needed more manpower than Barry had mustered.97 Twice he had failed at raising his beloved frigate with only "twenty or thirty five men," and now to have but a handful more kept the task both impossible and demeaning. Taut lines creaked, men swore under the strain, but their labors brought no success. The Effingham was immovable in the Delaware's mud.

True to his word, Hopkinson soon showed up to a.s.sume command once again, although he failed to bring with him "the secret Gage" that would effortlessly raise the Effingham. "Captain Barry," he called in his superficially cheery fashion, barely hiding both condescension and contempt, "doth she rise?"

In a voice that did not bother to conceal his own contempt for the questioner, Barry responded, "No, sir. How can she rise when you keep the people back?"

"Pooh," Hopkinson snorted, "You are always grumbling."

"What did you say?" a furious Barry asked.

"Go along, and mind your own business, you scoundrel!" was Hopkinson's scathing rejoinder.

Once more Hopkinson's spurs got under Barry's skin. His baleful stare gave way to outright rage. "It is a lie!" he shouted.

"What! Do you tell me I lie?" Hopkinson retorted.

Barry ordered the sergeant of invalids to approach and report to Hopkinson what he had told Barry, and he repeated Hopkinson's orders verbatim. Trapped by his own words and angered by his subordinate's wrath, Hopkinson told Barry that he "would bring [him] to account for this." The two men had reached the point where civility, authority, and mutual respect were as sunk as the Effingham. "d.a.m.n you," Barry said scornfully. "I don't value you any more than my duty requires."

"Sir," Hopkinson sneered, "you never minded your duty."

Barry's reply was immediate and withering. "You're a liar. The Continental Congress [knows] that I have minded my duty, and had [you] made yours as well, this ship would not be in its present con dition."98 Throughout this exchange, Hopkinson had stood his ground like a bantam c.o.c.k, but now Barry's words, how he said them, and his menacing physical presence were enough of a combination that Hopkinson chose to withdraw from the scene.

The Irishman's vitriol seemed strong enough to raise the Effingham from its sheer energy alone; nevertheless Barry returned to the more conventional method of trying to free his pitiful ship. As Hopkinson was leaving, "I pursued my business," Barry reported, "until one of the purchases gave way." The sudden snap of the lines threw the men backward, and the frigate settled deeper into the muck. The third and last attempt to raise the Effingham had come to nothing. With no further need to keep the exhausted men out in the cold, Barry ordered them to break down the equipment and sent them back to town. Later that day, Washington wrote a conciliatory note to the Navy Board explaining that he was glad to hear that the frigates had been sunk.99 In the pre-dawn hours of November 21, cloaked in darkness, Hazelwood's surviving row-galleys slipped past the British batteries at Philadelphia. Sometime later Barry, Read, and the sailors exiled in Bordentown saw smoke south on the river. Isaiah Robinson, former captain of the Sachem, had attempted to bring up the remaining Continental Navy vessels: the Andrew Doria, Hornet, Wasp, Racehorse, and Fly, along with the Pennsylvania Navy xebecs Repulse and Clymer (xebecs were sleek, two- or three-masted vessels with square-rig foremasts but lateen sails on the other masts). He was not as lucky as Hazelwood. Seeing the futility in running the gauntlet of British batteries in daylight, Robinson ordered the ships stripped of anything useful that could be removed, from tools to sailcloth. Then they were burned, less than two years after some of these same ships had sailed so proudly from Philadelphia in that first Continental fleet. Like Viking funerals they drifted afire until they slowly sank into the river's depths.100 Over three hundred cold, wet, and hungry officers and sailors slogged the twenty miles to Bordentown.101 There was no respite for Hopkinson after the Effingham affair. His brother-in-law, Jacob d.u.c.h.e, the rector of Christ Church and a former patriot, had been imprisoned by General Howe. There he recanted the error of his ways in a notorious letter to Washington that urged him to turn his back on the fight for independence. The letter quickly gained widespread notoriety and was an obvious embarra.s.sment to Hopkinson, who immediately reaffirmed his support for the patriot cause-a cause which had, in fairness, put Hopkinson's future at risk. Writing "for true and brother Love," Hopkinson belittled d.u.c.h.e's "vain and weak Effort attempted [at] the Integrity of one whose Virtue is impregnable to the a.s.saults of Fear and Flattery."102 Hopkinson did not post the letter to the rector. Instead he sent it to Washington, beseeching him to forward it to d.u.c.h.e (as if Washington would); but we do not know whether he sent it to the general from fear of his connection to d.u.c.h.e, or in the hopes of mollifying Washington with his sycophantic flattery.103 The arrival of the sailors in Bordentown allowed the sunken frigates to serve as yet another punch line. Lacking enough rooms to quarter so many sailors, Hopkinson and Wharton wrote the Marine Committee requesting instructions as to what to do with them all. Unaware of what had transpired, the committee immediately replied, "By all means keep them together in good humor and in Action until you hear further from us on the subject." To Hopkinson, that meant one thing; composing yet another fawning epistle to Washington, he suggested the two frigates be raised to be used as a floating barracks for the homeless sailors. An exasperated Washington responded with a terse note. While he would "leave the matter to [the Navy Board's] judgment," he saw "no reason for changing my former opinion, in request to Sinking the Frigates."104 Once again, Washington's word was law to Hopkinson; the ships remained in watery hibernation, and Hopkinson's "secret Gage" forever remained a secret.

A court-martial gave Barry the chance to take his mind off the Effingham and Hopkinson. On November 25, he presided over the trial of five members of the crew of one of the xebecs accused of desertion in the recent fighting. Using the merchantman Lyon's cabin, Barry and eleven other officers (among them Read) reviewed the evidence, including testimony from eyewitness Luke Matthewman, serving aboard the sloop Surprize at the time of the incident. The five accused-the master's mate, master of arms, armorer, quartermaster, and "a Boy"-were found guilty "upon a due and impartial consideration." The men were sentenced to "be hung off the Yard Arm of any Continental Vessell," while "the Boy" was sentenced to "Thirty Six lashes on his bare back with a Cat-Of-Nine-Tails as being a Boy and called out of his Bed." The prisoners were put in close confinement "in Burlington Gaol"-presumably until any "Continental Vessell" could be found (or raised) to provide the necessary yardarm. Congress later pardoned the five on condition that they join the army and serve throughout the war.105 The next day, Washington received word that "thirty Sail of Transports came up the River, above one hundred now lie opposite the City" and troops were now being landed in Philadelphia.106 December 1777 was the same as, yet different from December 1776: Washington's army was near Philadelphia, not poised for a desperate attack to save the city, but defeated, in rags, with little food. Congress had fled, as they had the year before, not due to a threat of a British takeover but because of an actual one. The Delaware, used by Barry and his cohorts Wickes and Biddle to hara.s.s and stymie the Royal Navy, was now completely in enemy hands. And, while John Cadwalader and other officers proposed attack, Washington sent his forces to winter encampment at nearby Valley Forge.107 Howe and his loyalist supporters had Philadelphia all to themselves. The British Empire had certainly struck back.

In Bordentown, Barry was close to stir-crazy. Ordered to retreat from the fight on the Delaware, separated from his bride, approached by an acquaintance to turn traitor, having witnessed and failed to rectify the disastrous sinking of his ship, he found that the bitter acrimony between himself and Hopkinson had sapped his patience, if not his self-respect. Yet while he was forced into idleness, his heart and brain were restive. He had an idea of how to hara.s.s the enemy, but it was not one he dared share with the imperious Hopkinson.

Accordingly, Barry bypa.s.sed the channels of command. Instead of approaching the Navy Board, he applied directly to the Marine Committee requesting leave, presumably to spend Christmas with Sarah and her family in Reading. Upon receiving permission on December 13, he notified Hopkinson and Wharton that he was leaving town.108 Hopkinson not only saw Barry's absence as "French Leave," but also as the perfect opportunity to settle accounts with him once and for all. He and Wharton drafted a letter to the Marine Committee. Hopkinson-who, judging from his choice of words, was clearly relishing his own narrative-told how "in the presence of several Strangers he [Barry] in the most indecent terms refused to execute our orders" and that his "insolence, disrespect and ill treatment warranted suspension from the service at the very least."109 Once more Hopkinson could not resist being clever with how he mailed a letter. It was sent directly to committee member Robert Morris, but not to his Congressional address in York. Rather, Hopkinson sent it where he believed Morris would be, at his estate in Manheim. Once again, Hopkinson asked a superior to act as personal postman after his letter was read. Thus would the influential Morris be informed of Hopkinson's side of the affair before Barry got the chance to tell his old employer his somewhat different account.

Unbeknownst to Hopkinson, Barry took a circuitous route to Reading via Valley Forge, arriving on December 19. He rode there specifically to see Washington, who that very day arrived from nearby Whitemarsh. Directed to the fieldstone house Washington had just moved into as his winter quarters, Barry waited inside the front door until Washington's secretary, Lieutenant Colonel John Fitzgerald, escorted him past a tall sentry and into the parlor, converted into the general's office only hours earlier.

After a brief introduction, Washington and Barry sat by the fireplace at one of the four mahogany tables, each covered with a green tablecloth. Whether Barry recounted his feud with Hopkinson is unknown, but doubtless he shared the plan he wished to undertake that would allow him to resume his role as a fighting sailor. It met with the general's approval.110 And, as a further bonus for the extra miles the sea captain rode, Barry also encountered none other than Robert Morris. Barry launched into a harangue against Hopkinson, but Morris cut him short, later recalling that Barry "wanted to Relate to me the Substance of his dispute with the Navy Board, but I had neither the time or inclination, neither did I think it proper to hear one Story without the other as it was possible I might some day become a judge in the affair."111 Mollified that his old employer would give him a fair shake, Barry mounted his horse and headed to Reading.

Morris returned to Manheim to find Hopkinson's letter waiting for him, which he forwarded to the Marine Committee as Hopkinson antic.i.p.ated. But Morris also enclosed his own letter, writing, "Capt. Barry thinks himself capable of making a defence against the accounts of the Board and Submitting the matter entirely to the deliberation of the Committee."112 The first part of Hopkinson's plan to destroy Barry had failed, thanks to blind luck.

Barry reached Reading in the hopes of finding solace, peace, and a chance to catch his breath from the trials of war and bureaucratic discord. Sarah should have been glad to see her husband; instead, she matched her husband in tales of woe. At the same time Barry was trying to unsink the Effingham, Sarah's half-sister, Christiana Keen, died during childbirth. Now her eight children looked to Sarah and Isaac for all that parents provide. Sarah told her husband how William Austin and Reynold Keen had joined loyalist regiments, and that local officials were attempting to seize Reynold's possessions after hearing of his treasonous act. Keen's numerous creditors now demanded payment of his debts from Isaac and Sarah.113 The snow that fell that week on Mount Penn and the hills around Reading gave the town a holiday l.u.s.ter in contrast to the gloom pervading the Austin household.114 Further south and east, the wind and snow signalled the first in a series of storms that ripped through the hurriedly constructed cabins at Valley Forge, held together by sod and mud. The wind seemed to echo the moans of Washington's freezing, hungry soldiers. In Philadelphia, the Howe brothers and Cornwallis enjoyed the finest food William Austin and other loyalists could provide, the finest houses abandoned by the aristocrats of the American cause, and the finest mistresses that a handsome red uniform could attract.115 On December 30, Barry received a letter from John Brown, now Secretary of the Marine Committee. With his letter came copies of the committee's latest two resolutions, pa.s.sed after reviewing Hopkinson's tirade: "Resolved, That Captain John Barry be required immediately to attend Congress, to answer to the complaint exhibited against him, and that he be furnished with an extract from the letter of the navy board." This was hard enough for Barry to swallow, but the second resolution was even more wounding: Whereas, it is essentially necessary to the marine service, that the affairs of the Officers of the Navy of the United States of America should pay obedience to such orders as the navy board's and the respective districts may at any time find necessary to give them [and] that all the officers in the said navy should treat the said navy boards with decency and respect: resolved, that the navy boards be, and they are hereby impowered to suspend any officer of the navy . . . who shall refuse to pay obedience to such orders as they may think necessary to issue, for who shall treat them with indecency and disrespect: and the said navy boards are hereby required to give immediate notice to the Marine Committee of any such suspension, with the venue thereof.116 Brown also enclosed a copy of Hopkinson's complaint. Having proven that he could stand up against prejudice, the elements, tyranny, and war, Barry now faced a new obstacle: intrigue. And his opponent was a master.

The year of the hangman ended with every aspect of Barry's life beset by troubles. As his mount carried him over the snow-covered road to York to confront Hopkinson's cronies in Congress, Barry knew that his future in the navy could only be saved by political, not nautical, skills.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

VINDICATION.

AS JOHN BARRY JOURNEYED TO YORK, Washington's army was freezing at Valley Forge. Private Joseph Plumb Martin, at sixteen already a survivor of the mud and lethal bombardment at Fort Mifflin, described the rations meted out as "a leg of nothing and no turnips."1 The soldiers were perpetually starving. They went about in rags, taking shelter in the drafty log huts they built for winter quarters (one guard kept his post while standing on his head to keep his bare feet out of the snow).2 The horrifying condition of the troops was not due to lack of congressional funds as much as lack of congressional foresight. From Maine to Georgia, farmers reaped a truly grand harvest the previous fall. But neither Congress nor Quartermaster General Thomas Mifflin-who was working around the clock with other officers and congressmen to have Washington replaced with General Horatio Gates-tried hard enough to get food and supplies to America's soldiers.3 In nearby Philadelphia, empty but for the small population of loyalists-including William Austin and Reynold Keen-and the warm and well-fed British Army, British commanders settled into the best Philadelphia homes. General Howe and his mistress moved into a handsome home on Sixth and High (Market) Streets, inspiring this bit of patriotic satire: Sir William he, snug as a flea Lay all this time a snoring Nor dream'd of harm as he lay warm In bed with Mrs. Loring.4 "Black d.i.c.k" Howe took up residence on Chestnut Street in a home so impressive that it later became the headquarters of a bank. Cornwallis ensconced himself in David Lewis's magnificent abode on Second and Spruce. Major John Andre, a favorite of Howe's due to his flair for theatrics, "dwelt in Dr. Franklin's mansion." The Hessian Commander, Baron General Wilhelm von Knyphausen, "very honorable in his dealings," took over John Cadwalader's home on South Second, where "exalted as he was in rank," Knyphausen "used to spread his b.u.t.ter on his bread with his thumb."5 British officers "held frequent plays at the old theatre, the performances by their officers."6 The dates and addresses of their b.a.l.l.s were published in the True Royal Gazette, one of the Tory papers now flourishing in the captured capital. Upon hearing of the British occupation of his hometown, Franklin acerbically commented that Howe had not taken Philadelphia. Philadelphia had taken Howe.7 Barry arrived in York, hoping to rely on his friends in Congress, especially those on the Marine Committee. It never occurred to him to refrain from confronting his accusers directly and immediately. His first supporter was his old employer. Morris, while a.s.serting his neutrality regarding the Effingham affair, nevertheless put the committee's secretary, John Brown, at Barry's disposal, giving Brown two tasks: one, to keep Barry calm; and two, sequester him in a tavern room, where the accused captain could pour out his version of the events that brought him there in the first place.8 Brown, still smarting that Hopkinson's friends in Congress had thrown him in jail weeks earlier just for bringing them Howe's peace feeler, was more than happy to counsel Barry.9 The final draft, five long pages in Barry's own hand, was a thorough, well-delineated effort, in which he narrated what happened and his reactions. It did not sugarcoat his words or conduct. Brown may have smoothed over the rough edges and suggested a phrase or two, but it is pure Barry from beginning-"I think it necessary at this period to exculpate myself...nor do I aver that the following conversation pa.s.sed only in the presence of Captain Read and the Board"-to end-"This Gentlemen is a true relation, as nearly as I can recollect, and I submit to your Honors judgment how far my conduct has been Blameable . . . . For my part, I shall think myself unworthy of the Commission the Honourable Congress has been pleased to give me could I tamely put up with different Treatment."10 While he confined his account to the Effingham, he did take one swing at Hopkinson for his pompous att.i.tude toward Barry and Read, in the hopes that Congress would discuss the issue of respect for the military by their civilian superiors: "I shall only add that it has been a princ.i.p.al Study with me to behave with the greatest respect to the Navy Board ever since their appointment and I would just suggest to your honors whether the good of the Service does not require the Captains of the Navy to be treated as Gentlemen with respect and as Gentlemen so long as they observe their Duty."11 Barry's case was taken up as "new business" by Congress on January 10, 1778.12 Whatever cunning ploys and gamesmanship Hopkinson's friends might play behind the scenes, Barry's defense, bereft of apology for his words or actions, did garner support among those congressmen unfamiliar with the incident. It also won over some of Hopkinson's colleagues who had been similarly treated by Barry's antagonist.

Barry's defense was read into the minutes of Congress on January 13, and immediately referred back to the Marine Committee for resolution. (That same day, they wrote Thomas Read, rewarding his desire "to be active in the service of your Country" with "Command of the Continental Brig Baltimore." Read left hearth, home, and wife-his new bride having joined him in White Hill-and departed for Baltimore.13) By this time Barry's plan of action against the British was being discussed openly. Since his forced exile at Bordentown, he had been developing a scheme to strike back at the British along the Delaware, hoping to take the barges of the Effingham and Washington below Philadelphia, manned with the seamen becalmed at Bordentown. Once south of the city, they could hara.s.s and perhaps even capture British supply ships. The Royal Navy was the main source of supplies to Howe's army, and the Delaware their only route. Barry's plan met with approval from Washington when he visited Valley Forge, and now the Marine Committee expressed enthusiasm. Further, Barry's friends on the committee saw his plan as their opportunity to support the captain openly against Hopkinson without getting personal.14 In Bordentown, Hopkinson and Wharton were still beset with problems. There were now close to five hundred sailors in town, and their need for food and clothing was as great as that of Washington's army. Morale, already low, had plummeted like the thermometer. Food was intermittently distributed, but at least it came more often than pay.15 Like Barry, Hopkinson was involved with plans to strike back at the British, but these only proved to be acts of overly clever desperation and insufficient planning. The first two involved the French engineer Major Fleury. He proposed setting twelve boats afire, with sharp iron pikes at their bows to attach themselves to enemy ships and sending them south in favorable winds. This did not pa.s.s a test run. Next, he wanted several volunteers to carry shirts packed with sulfur across the river below Bordentown at Cooper's Ferry by walking across the ice, then set fire to the shirts once they got close to British ships. This far-fetched scheme was never attempted: cold as it was, it was not cold long enough to allow the Delaware to thoroughly freeze. Curiously, Washington liked the idea, if "some desperate fellows" could be found to (a) travel the river when it did freeze and (b) carry such a flammable garment with the degree of stealth and fool's courage the gambit warranted.16 No takers came forward.

Hopkinson's father-in-law, Colonel Borden, was enamored of a plan by David Bushnell, one of the first pioneers in developing the submarine. Bushnell came up with a weapon comprised of underwater mines floated by buoys and kegs. On January 5, Bushnell let loose his kegs on the Delaware. For all his calculations, and the ardent support of Borden and Hopkinson, Bushnell did not seek out a.s.sistance or advice from Hazelwood, who certainly knew the Delaware as well as anyone in Bordentown. Perhaps Bushnell knew Hazelwood would not approve such a far-fetched idea.17 Years later, one Philadelphian recalled that "when the scheme was set in operation, the British fearing the making of ice, had warped in their shipping to the wharfs, and so escaped much of the intended mischief."18 Apparently, the kegs floated harmlessly down the river without a chance to strike the safely moored British vessels.

Barry's plan, lacking burning shirts and kegs, involved boats, men, and risk, but he would not be in command if Hopkinson had anything to do with it. As soon as he received word of Barry's proposal from his informants in Congress, Hopkinson sent Charles Alexander, late of the captured Delaware, to visit Washington with a similar proposal nominating Alexander as commander.19 Hopkinson also began holding Congress' feet to the fire as far as his accusations against Barry were concerned. More than two weeks had pa.s.sed since their summons to Barry, yet he not only remained unpunished, but obviously still in favor with the Marine Committee. Tipped off that the committee's cooperation with Barry would make his plan a reality, Hopkinson again wrote his congressional allies on January 19.20 Upon receipt, they worked behind the scenes, currying votes against Barry-just as Barry's supporters were doing on his behalf.

Ten days later, Hopkinson's allies pa.s.sed a motion "that Captain Barry be not employed on the expedition a.s.signed to his conduct by the Marine Committee, till further orders from Congress."21 The motion was put to a vote. The time for gamesmanship was over; Congress must now decide between the lawyer and the sailor. Every representative's name was called, and each vote was cast and recorded.

The vote was a tie.

As such, the motion "pa.s.sed in the negative." One less vote and Barry's next adventure would have taken place without him. While Congress "adjourned to 10 o'clock to Morrow," the Marine Committee wasted no more daylight.22 They immediately issued orders that Barry "employ the Pinnace and Barges belonging to the Frigates" and "employ such Continental Navy Officers not in Active Service" for his mission. Further, adding insult to injury, the committee directed Hopkinson to provide Barry "with everything necessary for equipping your little fleet. . . . You will give immediate notice to General Washington of such stores as you may Capture which are necessary for the use of the Army."23 Wishing Barry success, and asking that he "Write us frequently," the committee sent their own instructions to Hopkinson-not exactly a veiled rebuke of him as much as emphasizing their support of Barry: "We have directed Captain Barry to employ the Pinnace and Barges . . . in annoying the enemies Vessels in their Pa.s.sage up and down the Delaware. . . . We desire that you would deliver him such War-like Provisions and other necessaries as he may think necessary for equipping and victualling the Said Boats."24 With a world of scheming and contrivance lifted off his broad shoulders, Barry lost no time in leaving York. For the first time in months, he could focus on his duties and leave the politicians behind.

There was much to do. For Barry's plan to work, the barges would have to elude the British in Philadelphia. South of the city, the Delaware widens; numerous creeks and streams would provide refuge from any pursuing British craft. Most of the traffic on the river would consist of supply transports. The ice, and British lack of knowledge regarding the Delaware's tributaries, would also serve to his advantage. Barry saw the coming action as a chance to attack the enemy with speed and surprise; any resultant captured supplies that could be sent to Valley Forge would be a welcome residual.25 That said, he still faced overwhelming odds: the enemy was sure to respond with superior numbers of barges and men. Add the fact that there were enough loyalists living on the riverbanks who would offer neither succor nor silence, and Barry's mission carried no guarantee of success.

Barry departed York on January 30, visiting Morris in Manheim at John Brown's request, dropping off a letter regarding Barry's brother. Patrick was in Edenton, North Carolina, preparing a privateer for a voyage to France.26 It was the first bit of news Barry had of Patrick in over a year.

From Manheim, Barry went back to Valley Forge for a brief meeting with Washington and to request Washington's intercession with General James Varnum in Burlington, New Jersey. Realizing that the Marine Committee's letter called for "volunteers," Barry wanted an order giving him use of the same soldiers Washington a.s.signed in the fall to the Pennsylvania Navy, and Washington happily obliged.27 The Marine Committee's orders to Barry were strict instructions as to how to handle every conceivable issue his venture might encounter: As you will have frequent occasion to land on each Side of the Delaware during your Cruze you will take effectual care to restrain your officers & men from plundering, insulting or in any way treating ill the Inhabitants of the Country. Humanity, good Policy and your reputation demand that they