John Barry: An American Hero in the Age of Sail Part 3

Barry's furlough lasted less than two weeks. Once again, he packed his saddlebags, leaving Sarah alone to deal with her nephews, nieces, and traitorous relations. First he rode to York, still the refuge of Congress, to meet with Morris and the rest of the Marine Committee. He was also introduced to the French captain Pierre Landais, who had recently crossed the Atlantic with his ship's hold full of ammunition for the Continental Army and Navy.18 Barry departed York on June 2, bearing a lengthy letter from the committee to the Eastern Navy Board that reviewed appointments, funding, and approval for construction in Portsmouth of a ship-of-the-line. The board was directed to get "Out the Vessels of war agreeably [and to] repair the loss and honor of our Navy." The letter ended with an introduction of the bearer: "This will be handed you by Captain John Barry whom we have appointed to command the Frigate Raleigh-He is a brave active Officer and we doubt not you will find him very attentive to his duty."19 Barry was just leaving Congress when Sam Adams pressed him to wait for a letter. As Adams painstakingly composed a message to James Warren, Barry's patience began wearing thin. While Adams informed his old friend that "The French Gentleman [Landais] . . . fed with promises at Boston . . . is highly esteemed by this Committee," and that the new 36-gun frigate being built in Salisbury, Ma.s.sachusetts, originally to be christened Hanc.o.c.k, was instead to be named Alliance in honor of France's support of the American Cause and then placed under Landais's command, Barry's boots trod the hall floorboards a bit louder. Adams kept at his letter, mentioning that "Captain Barry . . . is to take command of the Raughly," and expressing concern over the lack of news regarding his cousin John's earlier voyage to France, when Barry's footsteps became thunderous. At last, Adams got the hint: "The Bearer is in Haste. Adieu," he concluded.20 "The Bearer" reached Boston on June 24, handing over his orders and dispatches to Warren and John Deshon of the Eastern Navy Board.21 Though Barry's credentials were in order and his exploits well-known to Bostonians, Warren and Deshon were reluctant to turn command over to an out-of-towner, especially while the Raleigh's cabin was hosting one court-martial after another, forcing Barry to move into a lieutenant's quarters. Nor was Warren about to "agreeably" (i.e., immediately) get the Raleigh out to sea. Parochialism, a bothersome trait since colonial days, was especially rampant in New England, and Warren was consumed with it: "every Body acquainted with Seamen must know they will not Engage in a Ship till they know the Captain," he groused in his reply to Adams's letter. Regardless, the bottom line for Warren was obvious. The Raleigh "has no Men."22 Throughout June the trials continued in the Raleigh's cabin. John Manley was acquitted for the loss of the first Hanc.o.c.k, followed by Hector McNeill's chance to defend accusations of dereliction of duty aboard the same ship. Next on the docket was Thompson, tried and found guilty in his own cabin. Then it was Hoysted Hacker's turn for running Columbus aground (he was exonerated). To Barry, his orders to get the Raleigh out to sea and restore some pride to the Navy with victories were being held up by the Navy's interminable review of her recent disasters.23 By now Boston harbor was host to five Continental vessels, whose captains included John Nicholson's brother Samuel, commanding the other frigate in port, the Deane. Barry was pleasantly surprised to find John Green in town, an old friend from the Willing & Morris days, captain of the Queen of France.24 With so many Continental ships in port, Barry pressed Warren and Deshon to transfer the military proceedings to another vessel. He was supported by the Marine Committee, who never failed to mention in their correspondence their "Strong urgings" that the Raleigh "will shortly be manned."25 Barry's lobbying efforts for a change of venue for the courts coincided with welcome news from New Jersey, where Washington's troops-forged with a steely resolve by a long winter of Baron Von Steuben's incessant drilling-attacked Clinton's rear guard and held the field at Monmouth Court House.

"We celebrated the 4th of July here yesterday with great parade & festivity," Warren wrote to Adams, now back in Philadelphia with the rest of Congress. After dwelling on the difficulties in getting the ships out to sea, Warren acknowledged he was getting to know Barry better: "Capt. Barry's Character scores high [and] his conduct is agreeable. I think therefore we should have but little difficulty in Manning his Ship tho' he is A Stranger."26 Warren finally approved relocation of the military courts, allowing the "Stranger" to move into the captain's cabin on July 5.27 The Raleigh still had "no Men," no cannon, and no money. Indeed, the figurehead of Sir Walter Raleigh, sword in hand, was better armed than the ship. The frigate's bottom was still foul from Thompson's last voyage.28 All Barry had was a promise from the Marine Committee via the Eastern Navy Board that "We shall without delay forward you as large A Sum of Money as can now be spared" so that the Raleigh could be refitted, remanned, and rearmed. They also informed their New England colleagues that America's new allies had finally arrived; a "Squadron consisting of 12 ships of the Line and four frigates under the command of Count D'Estaing" was at the mouth of the Delaware Bay. The committee hoped this piece of news would inspire Continental sailors to "step forth with alacrity and exert themselves in supporting our friends who have come so far to a.s.sist us to vanquish an enemy too long triumphant upon the Sea."29 With the trials moved elsewhere, Barry finally had the opportunity to thoroughly inspect his stores. He found them lacking, thanks to a woeful absence of discipline. "The ship had been Robb'd of a great many things," Barry reported to Morris, noting that the Raleigh's officers could come and go from the ship "when they please" and were not held accountable for anything missing. To Barry, there was "no knowing where the evil will end or what things is on Board a Ship at any time." Once he took command, laxity aboard the Raleigh vanished. Even the dubious Warren recognized Barry's management skills: "You have Appointed a Good one," he reported to Adams.30 Lack of funds still prevented Barry from obtaining new ordnance and other supplies; the Navy Board could not even afford to have the Raleigh's hull sc.r.a.ped and cleaned. "I am in Pain about the Ship in your Harbor," Sam Adams commiserated. Through his efforts, Congress sent $524,000 to Boston for refitting the Continental ships. Follow-up letters dispensed with any subtlety in prodding the Navy Board into action: "We have only to repeat our great desire to have the Continental Vessels at Sea, which no doubt you are using your endeavors to accomplish," one dispatch concluded. "We hope the Warren has gone to Sea and that the Raleigh will shortly follow her."31 But Warren's prediction that Barry would have difficulties enlisting a crew proved correct. The first rendezvous on the Raleigh's behalf netted him less than one hundred men, most of whom were old hands from Thompson's days. A brainstorming session among Barry, Warren, and Deshon resulted in new ideas but nary a solution; one proposal to "borrow" French sailors from D'Estaing's fleet was floated, but the Marine Committee quashed that idea. A suggestion to enter into an exchange of prisoners was also rejected. The British, needing no sailors themselves, would simply drag out any negotiations-if they did not dismiss the idea altogether.32 Next, Barry and the Navy Board looked to the crew of the idle frigate Trumbull. Here Barry found not only some experienced tars but also the opportunity to replace the incompetent officers he had inherited from Thompson, keeping only George J. Osborne, Captain of the Marines. The fresh faces included a new second-in-command, first lieutenant David Phipps, and midshipmen Matthew Clarkson, who had ventured down the Delaware in Barry's barges; David Porter, the first in a family line of American Naval heroes; and young Jesse Jeac.o.c.ks.

Barry still lacked marines. He knew it would be futile to sail without their presence on the fighting tops in battle; they were also indispensable in enforcing his authority among the crew. Barry's desperate situation called for a desperate solution. When the final muster rolls were complete, most of the Raleigh's marines were British infantrymen taken prisoner at Saratoga.33 Barry would not have proof of their newfound loyalty to the United States until he found a British ship to fight, and then see at whom they aimed their muskets.

By mid-August the frigate Warren and brigantine Resistance had departed Boston just as the Alliance entered Nantasket Road to procure the rest of her a.s.signed cargo before sailing to France. The Raleigh still lay anch.o.r.ed in the harbor.34 To Barry's frustration, many of her new guns were defective, and burst while being proven. But even the arrival of sound ordnance was not enough to get him out of Boston. Now it was the French fleet's turn to delay him.

D'Estaing's flotilla had come up the coast to New York, but was unable to cross the bar, the local pilots sure that the drafts of the large French ships would never clear. Sailing further north toward Newport, d'Estaing encountered "Black d.i.c.k" Howe's fleet. Try as both sides might, a full battle never took place: a huge storm sent the English and French ships in opposite directions, with d'Estaing's flagship losing her rudder. He slowly made his way into Boston harbor.35 The sight of weatherbeaten French ships-Barry described them "in a most shattered condition"-was hardly the first impression long-suffering Bostonians expected from their new allies.36 Nevertheless, the harbor batteries fired a salute, followed by the pomp of a reception and dinner at Governor John Hanc.o.c.k's Beacon Hill mansion, with Barry in attendance.37 Over two months had pa.s.sed since Barry's arrival in Boston. Now he fretted over a possible change in his orders, placing him under d'Estaing's command, which the Marine Committee was actually considering. "In my opinion [d'Estaing] will not sail from here for six weeks," Barry wrote to Morris. "I hope I shall not be obliged to wait till they are ready to Sail," he continued, "but . . . I am determined to Obey my Orders, let the consequence be what they will."38 By late August his orders came: "Immediately Upon receipt of these our orders you will commence on a Cruize in Company with the Continental Brigt. Resistance Captain Bourke [Burke], before Cape Henlopen and Occrac.o.c.k on the Coast of North Carolina, with a view to take certain armed Vessels fitted out by the Goodriches, or any other of the enemies Vessels that may be infesting that Coast."39 Similar orders to sail under Barry's command were sent to Burke.40 A follow-up letter from the committee was sent to Hampton Roads, Virginia, where Barry was to "call in at Hampton once a week . . . other Vessels [will be] ready for your convoy [and] you are to proceed with them as we shall direct."41 The committee also wrote the Navy Board, adding the Warren and Deane to Barry's mission-unaware that these two ships and the Resistance had already sailed.42 The Raleigh would be a squadron of one. These orders gave him a chance to return to the familiar waters of his glory days commanding the Lexington; he could do much more damage to Tory and British ships with the Raleigh than he did with that little brigantine. His mood now swung from worry about joining the French to ebullience over his antic.i.p.ated venture. When the last shipment of ordnance rumbled down Boston's cobblestone streets to the docks along the Charles River, he gladly paid for "expenses to procure other guns" from his own pocket, buying enough "rum for the Waggoners" to make everyone happy.43 With a full crew, sound guns, and ample supplies, Barry put the finishing touches on his departure, writing letters to the Marine Committee and to Sarah. Her latest letter updated him on the dolorous state of Austin family affairs, including Reynold Keen's surrender to Pennsylvania authorities. Barry penned one final letter to Morris, ending it with a request for a.s.sistance regarding Sarah's plight: As I look on you to be my only and best Friend I have one favour to request of you . . . I have a Brother in Law, whom I believe you are acquainted with, his name is Re[y]nold Keen he has forfeited his Estate by the Laws of Pennsylvania; but I should suppose those Laws were made for People that have taken an active part against us, I should hope he never did, if he had I would not say one word in his favour . . . he lost the best of Wives, she left behind her eight small Children, all he had in the World [was] within the Enemy's lines, at that time very gloomy prospects on our side, and now he submits himself to the Mercy of his Country. If you think it consistant with your Heart to render him any service to recover his Estate, the Obligation will be forever acknowledged.44 On or about September 18, Barry departed Boston with the tide and stood down Nantasket Road, where the Raleigh languished in doldrums for another week. While he was in the roadstead, word reached Boston that "Lord Howe with a powerful Squadron is hovering between Rhode Island and Boston Bay."45 In his letter to Morris, Barry mentioned "Twenty three Sail of Large Ships appear'd off this Harbour . . . but we have seen nothing of them since." Like the rest of Boston, Barry believed "they are gone off."46 Indeed, ships from Howe's fleet were patrolling the waters along that very area expecting, as always, to pick up American prizes, be they merchants or fighting sail. Among these marauders was the Experiment.

Few British officers on land or sea were as successful in the war as Captain Sir James Wallace, and few were more detested by the Americans: among the king's forces, only Walter Butler and Banastre Tarleton rivaled him in arousing such strong fear and loathing during the war. Born in England in 1731, Wallace entered the Royal Navy as a midshipman while in his teens, won his lieutenancy in 1755, and received his first command seven years later. By 1774, he was captain of the frigate Rose, twenty guns.47 Lexington and Concord were months away when, under Admiralty orders, he sailed into Newport, Rhode Island, where his seizure of merchantmen and destruction of colonial property made him the archvillain of the British Empire in the eyes of New England colonists. His edicts were haughty and threatening, and he used the Rose's guns to back them up.

He was especially determined to avenge the Gaspee affair, which occurred two years before his arrival. The Gaspee, a British schooner in pursuit of smugglers up Narragansett Bay, ran aground on the night of June 10, 1772. Seeing this, the smugglers boarded the crippled schooner, captured her crew after a short fight, and burned her. Despite a Crown offer of a 1,000 reward for information, not one name was disclosed.48 Long before Wallace's arrival it was an open secret in Newport that the leader of the raiding party was Abraham Whipple. Wallace wrote him of his intentions: "You Abraham Whipple . . . burned His Majesty's vessel, the Gaspee and I will hang you at the yard arm." Whipple's reply was defiantly humorous: "Sir, Always catch a man before you hang him."49 Wallace began terrorizing Rhode Island, capturing every vessel he could get his hands on, burning coastal villages along the way. Evidence of the great animosity he inspired is found in a rambling, vituperative, open letter from one "J. P-ke" that was published in newspapers throughout the colonies. It began with the salutation "Though I have not the misfortune of personally knowing you" and described Wallace as a "pirate" and "a.s.sa.s.sin" with a "love of rapine."50 Loyalist publications, in contrast, referred to Wallace as "ever vigilant and brave," and King George agreed, knighting Wallace while the Admiralty concurred, giving him command of the ship-of-the-line Experiment in 1777.51 Now, with other ships from Howe's fleet, he lurked outside the Ma.s.sachusetts capes.52 At dawn on September 25, 1778, Barry gave orders to weigh anchor and the Raleigh departed Nantasket Road, accompanied by a brigantine and a sloop. Within two hours, Barry dropped off his pilot, "got the topgallant yards up," and "bore away E. b[y] S., the wind N.W." Barry then "set topgallants and steering sails." Canvas captured wind, and the frigate sped out to the open sea.53 The Raleigh made a good first impression on her new captain, cruising effortlessly to Cape Cod. "Only the best timber" had been used to build her, and her fine design allowed her to skim through the water.54 She was "ten or twelve Leagues" north of Cape Cod when "The Man at the Mast head call'd out two Sail bearing about S.E." Barry raised his spygla.s.s while he "ordered the steering and small sails to be ready to haul our wind should they be Ships of Force." Through his gla.s.s he saw that they were nothing more than "Fishing Schooners by their appearance," but with two ships under his protection, and in unfamiliar waters, Barry was being cautious-for now.55 Minutes later the cry "Sail Ho!" came down from the masthead again, and Barry asked, "Where Away?" The lookout shouted back: "two Sail bearing about S.E. by South, distance 8 or 10 Leagues." Peering again through his spygla.s.s, it soon became evident to Barry that these were not fishing schooners; "one standing to the Northward, the other to the Southward, by their largeness and behavior I took them to be British Cruisers." He hailed the brigantine's captain, giving him orders to follow the Raleigh as close as he could, but the brigantine and sloop were soon lagging far behind. Barry resorted to signaling orders to his consorts, while heading Raleigh "by the wind to the Northward in hopes to get clear of [the cruisers]." No sooner had he changed course when "The Ship that was standing to the Southward . . . tacked and gave us Chase along with the other." Both British ships added sail to increase their speed, but the Raleigh showed them her heels; soon Barry put "a great distance to waindward" between his frigate and the enemy vessels.56 All day long he raced northward in an effort to avoid a fight he neither sought nor wanted.

In outdistancing his pursuers Barry also lost sight of the other two American ships. "Night coming on the wind grew light and variable," Barry noted, "I embraced every opportunity to get in with the Land and out of sight of the aforesaid ships." The British ships "kept their course after us," Barry recounted; however, "we closed upon a wind to the Northward, [and] at night we lost sight of them."57 Just before the Raleigh went over the horizon at 9 P.M. John Ford, captain of the frigate HMS Unicorn, twenty-two guns, ordered his bow-chasers run out and "Fir'd several Shot" at the American ship." That night he entered the day's events in his log: "gave Chace to 2 Sail . . . at 9 they ran a Sh.o.r.e on Cape Cod." He also identified his partner in the pursuit: the Experiment.58 The next day, September 26, began with great sailing weather: a clear sky with fresh breezes. Through his spygla.s.s Barry discovered what had become of his nautical charges: "saw the Aforesaid Ships, and a Brig: and Schooner bearing about SSW." Ascertaining that the brig was the one "which sail'd in [our] comp'y and was very near the first of the Night," Barry watched the schooner approach the two large cruisers: "The Schooner spoke one of the Ships, which partly convinced me the Brig had been taken in the Night and that the Schooner was Tender to one of the Ships"; the schooner, the True Blue, was actually tender of another warship, the Rainbow.59 What Barry could not have known was that in capturing the brigantine Wallace learned what frigate he was pursuing and who her captain was. Barry's very name was music to Wallace's ears. Reports from the Philadelphia press and loyalist informants had informed Wallace as to who had bested him on the Delaware. Now Barry's appearance on the horizon gave Wallace the opportunity to even the score.

Only a few minutes pa.s.sed when the Raleigh "heard several guns fired and Supposed them Signals to one of the Ships they being at that time a great distance a stern." Barry ordered the decks cleared for action and clapped on every yard of canvas. The "Chace" was on. Not knowing the lay of the sh.o.r.eline, he conferred with his helmsman and Lieutenant Phipps, who suggested making for the safety of Portsmouth.60 Barry agreed, and "continued our course for the land." The Raleigh's swiftness testified to the efficiency of Barry's overhaul and refitting; she was soon running at 11 knots. Her speed proved too great for the British men-of-war. The Unicorn, smaller and lighter, was the better sailor of the two, outdistancing the Experiment but not gaining on the American frigate. By late afternoon Barry "lost sight of the said Vessels."61 In Barry's mind, the danger had pa.s.sed: "thinking they had quitted chasing of us, as I could not perceive they gained anything the whole time, ordered the Ship to be kept away under a moderate Sail for fear of falling in with them in the Night and putting us in confusion." After heading east by northeast "by the Compa.s.s" at a speed of up to 6 knots, Barry ordered a change of direction at midnight to east by southeast. Believing that he had eluded the British, he decided that it was unnecessary to take refuge in Portsmouth.62 One wonders what would have happened, as the Raleigh slipped over the horizon, if another captain commanded the Experiment. Barry's past experiences against Hamond, Graeme, and Hudson may have led him to believe that "out of sight, out of mind" was the norm for a British captain. Not so with Wallace. It had not been enough that he had retaken the Alert and forced Barry to burn the Mermaid and the Kitty. The Raleigh's captain did not know who was pursuing him, but Wallace knew who he was pursuing, and was not about to give up so easily. As he had done at Reedy Island, Wallace put himself in Barry's shoes and on Barry's quarterdeck-and plotted his course accordingly.

A few hours before daybreak on Sunday, September 27, Barry ordered "all Sails to be handed 'till Sun Rise." The Raleigh was dead still in the water at dawn. From the quarterdeck Barry scanned the horizon with his spygla.s.s. With "nothing in sight," he gave fresh orders. "We made all the sail we could and steered S.E.b.E in order to keep clear of Cape Sable," a course Barry would only have kept under the belief that he was no longer being pursued.63 North Carolina and Goodrich's fleet beckoned; the Raleigh resumed her southerly course.

At 9:30 A.M., the cry "Sail Ho!" rang down from the masthead. Once more Barry asked, "Where Away? How many?" Two sail, the masthead's man replied, off the port bow and "bearing about S.S.W." The American and British ships, like two lines seeking an intersecting point, were on a collision course. The enemy was coming so fast that no spygla.s.s was required for identification: "We soon saw them from the quarterdeck," Barry noted, "and found they were [the] Ships standing for us."64 The canny Wallace now also had the weather gauge; the wind was on his side in the race, not Barry's. Wallace controlled the chase.

With a strong west wind Barry "immediately Wore Ship and haul'd the wind to the N.N.W. with all the sails the ship could bear."65 Every inch of canvas was already set, but the Raleigh carried no royal yards-there was no spar to support a sail higher than the topgallant.66 She did carry studding sails ("stun s'ls") on her fore and main masts-extra sails set outside the spars. They were set as fast as the hands could perform the task.67 The masts gave a perceptible groan with the added pressure of more canvas and the sudden change of course.

For the next four and a half hours, Barry kept the Raleigh as far from the enemy as possible. "At 2 P.M. or thereabouts we saw the Land a head"-the southern coast of Maine. "We still continued our Course and the two Ships in full Chace, one of them which appeared the smallest came up with us very fast [while] the other kept her distance," Barry later reported. Ford had the Unicorn fairly sprinting ahead of the Experiment, which maintained her original speed. The Raleigh was again making 11 knots, but the wind began to lessen just as the land Barry sighted could be seen more clearly as islands and not a singular sh.o.r.eline.68 The closest Barry had ever been to the coast of Maine was aboard the Industry five years earlier. With no knowledge of the land he viewed through his spygla.s.s, he "asked both Officers and Men if they knew anything" about the sh.o.r.eline. For one brief moment, their answers stunned him: "To my great Grief I found there was not one on Board who was acquainted with it." Some of the crew told Barry "if we were 15 or 20 Leagues further to the westward they could carry [the Raleigh] into a good Harbour," but it soon became obvious that no one had a clue where they actually were. "As soon as I got close in with the Land, which proved to be desolate Islands 12 Leagues from the Main [land] and not a tree on them," he later recalled, and with "the smallest Ship some distance a Stern and on our Weather Quarter, I thought it most prudent to Tack to the Southward in hopes to get to the Westward and make a Harbour before the ships could come up."69 No sooner had the idea come to mind than it was being ordered and carried out-but Barry was running out of options.

Two hours later he ran out of time as well. "At 4 PM Tacked and before 5 the smallest Ship crossed us within Gun shott," he recounted. Since her spurt past the Experiment, Barry had been studying the Unicorn: how she sailed, how many guns she carried, and whether the Raleigh could take her-or at the very least send her running. He decided to fight: "I found we were a Match for her and ordered the Continental Colours to be hoisted and gave her a Gun"-fired to leeward, the time-honored invitation to engage. It was about 5:45 P.M.; the autumn sun was setting. Barry's plan for survival now crystallized: beat the smaller ship back, then run westward in the darkness and escape. His two-step plan was quite a balancing act. It required engaging the Unicorn while maintaining a safe distance from the Experiment.70 He still did not want this fight; he simply had no choice.

Ford accepted the challenge, and the Unicorn "threw up St. George's Ensign and gave us a Broadside," Barry wrote, "which we returned." At first, the firing from both ships "did little or no damage on either side." Unexpectedly, "A fresh Breeze" suddenly snapped at the canvas and Barry gave orders that the mainsail be "haul'd up to right the ship" and sail her flat, making best use of his guns.71 The Raleigh and Unicorn were about a quarter of a mile apart when, without warning, the Unicorn came under the lee quarter. Now she was between the Raleigh and her westward flight. Another broadside was let loose from the Unicorn.72 Whether from this barrage of fire or the strain of sail-Barry referred to it as "some unforeseen accident"-there came a loud crack from aloft. Barry looked up and saw the foretopmast snap, and cried out a warning to the starboard gun crews as a tangle of wood, canvas, and rope hurtled toward the deck, taking with it the "Main top gallant Mast[,] Jebb [jib], and fore stay sail." The debris crashed onto four of the Raleigh's starboard guns and crew, the canvas draping over the Raleigh's hull, acting as a drag on her speed and crippling her ability to defend herself. Ford wasted no time in firing another salvo into the injured Raleigh, adding more dead and wounded bodies among the fallen wreckage (Wallace, as a witness to the fighting, erroneously entered in Experiment's log that the mast was down on the first broadside).73 With not so much as a second available to curse his bad luck, Barry immediately ordered "the Wreck to be cut away," but for now the Unicorn poured fire into the American frigate without fear; as long as the wreckage hung over these starboard guns the Raleigh could neither sail freely nor fire back. The deadly cannonade prevented the Americans of "getting clear of the Masts and Sails then alongside as soon as I could have wished."74 All Barry could do was maintain his cool, commanding presence despite this sudden disaster. In doing so he gave courage and heart to his crew-some of whom had served under Thompson and could recall that captain's panicky retreat months earlier.75 But inside, Barry knew that any chance for escape was slipping away.

Grim as the situation was, he still sought a solution that would keep any chance of flight alive, just as the Unicorn tacked to port, bringing her up for another broadside.76 The Raleigh, in her present condition, could not outfight the Unicorn. Barry also saw the Experiment slowly coming closer as well. Her 18-pounders could easily sink the crippled Raleigh and ma.s.sacre his crew. No longer able to outsail his opponents, Barry was determined to at least outfight them, "Being disabled so much I thought it impossible to get clear with my Ship."77 Just then, Ford gave his gunners the order to fire into the Raleigh's starboard, just as the fo'c'sle hands were jettisoning the wreckage from the previous British broadside. The deadliest broadside yet turned the Raleigh's deck into a slaughterhouse.78 Barry's choices now dwindled to two: board the Unicorn, or strike his colors. He "determined to Board the Enemy if possible." Desperate as this gamble was, if Barry could "take her before the [Experiment] could come up," he could still turn the tables on the British. He "ordered the helm aweather," putting the Raleigh to windward and sending her right at the Unicorn.79 This would let the Raleigh's crew board to the windward side, with the smoke of battle at their backs, blowing into the eyes of the Unicorn's men.

The darkness now fallen over the scene only heightened the sense of peril aboard the Raleigh. Boarding parties were a.s.sembled and given both orders and hand-to-hand weapons: pistols, cutla.s.ses, and pikes. Grappling hooks were distributed to the strongest of the crewmen who could swing these heavy iron hooks over their heads and throw them in unison into the Unicorn's bulwarks, then pulled by all hands to bring the Unicorn right alongside the Raleigh. Those guns still working on the Raleigh's starboard were reloaded with grape and canister. Barry's marines-the former British prisoners-remained at their posts in the fighting tops, with orders to sweep the Unicorn's deck with musket fire.80 Cutla.s.s in hand, Barry stood on the quarterdeck, ready to lead the boarders himself. Now it would be the Raleigh's turn to have the advantage; her broadside of grapeshot, combined with the marksmanship of her marines, would decimate the enemy.81 By now the Raleigh was right on top of the Unicorn.82 From her fighting tops, the Unicorn's marines returned fire while Ford parried Barry's planned thrust. Seeing his opponent's intention to board his ship, Ford abruptly broke off the engagement. Before a single grappling hook was thrown, the Unicorn shot ahead and tacked to windward, taking with her Barry's last chance to win the engagement outright.83 But if the battle could not be won, it could be prolonged. For the next two hours the Raleigh and Unicorn peppered each other, while the Experiment sailed closer and closer toward the action. By this time Barry had lost scores of men and yet, while Ford had fewer casualties thus far, the Raleigh's gunners were proving their mettle. Both the Unicorn's "Main and Mizen Masts [were] dangerously wounded," her "Stays and Running Rigging much damag'd [and] the Ship making a good deal of Water."84 As Ford sheared away from the Raleigh's boarding parties, Barry saw that the Unicorn was "much shattered, and I thought water logg'd."85 With his ship in danger of being dismasted, and walls of green water rushing into the jagged holes perforating the Unicorn's hull-courtesy of the Raleigh's broad-sides-Ford needed Wallace to bring the Experiment up with all possible speed. He fired his signal lights.

From the Raleigh's quarterdeck, Barry saw "the signals of distress" rise into the cool September night air. He had beaten back the Unicorn, but the hours it took to do so and the price he paid in damage to his own ship made the second part of his plan-escape-all but impossible. As for Ford, he now waited for Wallace to come up and finish the job.86 It was midnight. Aboard the Raleigh, Barry had a brief, intense council with Phipps and his other officers. He "thought it most prudent to wear The Ship and Run her on Sh.o.r.e on any place so that She or the People might not fall into the Enemy's hands."87 He sent his top-men aloft to cut down the rag of a main topsail and ordered "another bent," while sending his ship toward several small islands-indistinct forms lying ahead in the darkness, just outside Pen.o.bscot Bay.88 At that exact instant, the Experiment arrived on the scene of the battle, her guns run out, ready to resume what was already seven hours of nocturnal carnage. Barry called for the top-men to abandon their task: "I thought it impossible to get clear at any rate and ordered the Men to lett it Stand."89 With agility and speed they descended to the deck, clambering down the shot-up ratlines and frayed rigging. The Raleigh continued her headlong rush toward the islands.

Wallace, having been a spectator to this grueling, b.l.o.o.d.y affair, now looked to finish off the Raleigh and "Got alongside"-but Barry was ready for him. "Fire!" he roared from the Raleigh's quarterdeck, and her 12-pounders slammed a broadside into the Experiment.90 But this spirited, violent show of defiance did not deter Wallace. The Experiment's 18-pounders were in the hands of the best-trained gunners in the world. On Wallace's orders, they returned fire, staggering the Raleigh with their heavier guns. Incredibly, Wallace's gunners sent three broadsides into the crippled, retreating frigate in just over five minutes, while the mauled Unicorn managed to fire a round or two "on our lee quarter."91 But just as Wallace would not be stopped by a broadside, Barry would not quit his plan. Under his orders, the Raleigh's gunners "returned our [fire] with redoubled vigor" as Barry continued his head-on course toward the craggy islands. Despite her battered condition, the Raleigh pulled ahead of her pursuers, her stern-chasers defiantly shooting back at the British. With the island in the center of this cl.u.s.ter being closest, Barry ordered his helmsman to beach the frigate there. As the crew braced themselves, the Raleigh struck sand-and struck it hard. She was aground.92 Beaching the frigate left her a sitting duck for British cannons, but Barry let his men know that they were not about to surrender; instead, he ordered the guns reloaded. One of his officers later recalled that "encouraged by our brave commander, we were determined not to strike." However, for the next five minutes striking his colors was the more prudent option. In that short span of time Wallace's gunners fired two more broadsides into the Raleigh. Then, after the second round, the Experiment "hove in stays"-made a quick tack. Antic.i.p.ating this maneuver, Barry ordered his guns reloaded: now, for a few precious seconds, it was the Experiment that was vulnerable. Barry seized this "opportunity of raking [Experiment] which we did with our whole broadside."93 The Raleigh was as dangerous as a cornered, wounded animal.

For the next fifteen minutes the Americans sent round after round of iron at the two British ships. It was the Raleigh's last hurrah, but Barry's fierce pounding worked; the enemy ships "sheared off and came to an Anchor about half-a-mile Astern of us." Wallace, seeing his vessel "being close to the Rocks, tacked and Anch.o.r.ed about 1/2 a Gun Shott from her, as did the Unicorn in 20 fathoms Water." The last thing Wallace wanted was two British ships dashed on the rocks. It was now nearly 2:00 A.M. Barry knew what would come with daylight: broadsides and boarding parties. Wallace could turn in for a few hours, believing that Barry would be his prisoner by morning.94 If Wallace believed that a bombardment at dawn would pound the Americans into submission, he still did not know John Barry. No sooner had the battle broken off than Barry "got the Boat out in order to save what Men I could."95 No one aboard knew the island at all; Barry's quick exploration "proved [it]to be rather a barren Rock than an Island." He determined that it was unsuitable ground to transfer any of the Raleigh's guns to continue the fight (as at Turtle Gut Inlet two years earlier) being "about a solid Rock somewhat short of a Mile in length and a quarter of a Mile wide at the broadest place."96 In a repeat performance of his earlier fight with Wallace, Barry turned to fire to keep his ship out of enemy hands. With the island only good for a way-station, Barry issued new orders. Two boats, commanded by himself and Marine Captain Osborne, would take the wounded to the mainland. He placed young Midshipman Jesse Jeac.o.c.ks and the Raleigh's sailing master in command of a detachment of twenty men, and gave Jeac.o.c.ks specific orders: pile up what combustibles he could find onboard, set fire to the Raleigh, then row with all possible speed for the mainland. Barry ordered the ship's lights kept lit as a ruse to cover the departure of the longboats. He sent the rest of the Raleigh's men to hide in the rocky crevices of the island, until the longboats could return and rescue them.97 The Raleigh's toughest hands manned the sweeps on the two longboats. Tired from the longest and most dangerous day of their lives, they rowed in silence toward the wooded sh.o.r.e. There were two dozen men to a boat. Barry determined it to be "12 Leagues from the Main land." Once again he miscalculated: it was nearly twenty miles-a vast stretch for men so worn out from chase and battle. Along the way they rowed past other islands, each equally as desolate as the one where they had left their comrades. After three hours of rowing they reached land, entering a small cove at daybreak. Roused from sleep, one of the inhabitants gave Barry the first reliable bearings of his whereabouts in three days, telling him the name of the barren island where he left ship and crew: Wooden Ball.98 Barry again set his spygla.s.s eastward, looking for proof that Jeac.o.c.ks had carried out his orders and that the Raleigh was destroyed, but no plume of smoke rose in the sky. For two hours he paced and fumed, not knowing what had become of his orders or his men. Finally, the third boat was sighted, manned by the sailing master and his band of saboteurs.99 Once ash.o.r.e, he told Barry what transpired after the captain departed.

The sailing master and his men immediately carried out their orders, piling combustibles below deck. All Jeac.o.c.ks need do was ignite them and climb into the boat. The sailing master and men waited anxiously as the sun came up. At 5:00 A.M., from the quarterdeck of the ravaged Unicorn, Ford "discovered Rebel Colours flying still onboard the Enemy." He also "Observ'd many of her People ash.o.r.e upon the Westpart of [the] Island." Two hours later, Wallace brought the Experiment near the Unicorn and anch.o.r.ed, where he "fired several Guns & hoisted out all our Boats Manned and Armed." In the forefront he "sent a Boat ahead with a Flag of Truce to offer them Quarters."100 As the only person left aboard the Raleigh, Jeac.o.c.ks must have thought the British boarding parties were coming just for him. By this time he had doused the lanterns Barry ordered left burning, but he had yet to finish his a.s.signed task. The sailing master called for the midshipman to hurry, but received no reply. Rather than send someone else (or himself) aboard to complete the mission, and seeing the British lowering their boats, the sailing master departed with the daylight. "The Master thought it most prudent to put off as they were within sight of the Enemy," Barry later explained.101 The boat was well into Pen.o.bscot Bay when the Experiment resumed firing on the Raleigh.

Later, the American press labeled Jeac.o.c.ks a spy; Barry called his actions "Treachery." Whether he was a traitor in their midst, or just plain scared, Jeac.o.c.ks did find something to do aboard the Raleigh rather than obey his orders. When Wallace opened fire, Jeac.o.c.ks hauled down the Raleigh's ensign.102 Angry that Jeac.o.c.ks had lost his nerve, sense of duty, or both; angry at himself that he could not be two places at once, to find a safe haven for his wounded and start a fire twenty miles away; and angry over his own error in judgment just twenty-four hours earlier, Barry again paced the spit of sand.103 He ordered the boats back to Wooden Ball, hoping to rescue any Americans that might still be on the island, although he knew full well that the long row back, carried out by already physically drained sailors, would probably not get them there in time to save the others from capture. But maybe.

Maybe.

While the sailing master's boat entered the bay, Wallace and Ford put an end to the affair: "The Enemy on seeing a Flag of Truce . . . and Preparations for boarding her thought it prudent to haul down her Colours . . . the first Lieut. with 123 men soon after Surrendered on the island the Captn and remainder of the Crew made their Escape."104 Having "surrendered on a Summons of Truce," as Wallace put it, Phipps and most of the Raleigh's crew laid down their arms. Only thirteen successfully concealed themselves behind the rocks on Wooden Ball. From their hiding places, these few watched as their shipmates were brought aboard the Experiment. Then, with high tide approaching, they saw "boats from the Experiment with our Longboat employed in heaving the Raleigh off, at 3 they hauled her off and brought her to an anchor off the Island." With the Raleigh no longer aground, the British crews went to work repairing the frightfully damaged Unicorn.105 The Raleigh's boats did not approach Wooden Ball until evening, picking up the lucky thirteen under cover of darkness. They got back to the mainland at dawn on the twenty-ninth, informing Barry of his ship's fate. By October 1, both the Raleigh and the Unicorn were seaworthy enough to depart Pen.o.bscot Bay. Along with the Experiment they made for Cape Ann, with the battered Unicorn still "giving Chace" to every sail sighted. Ironically, the Raleigh fared better in the fight; the Unicorn's hull was so shattered that she was finished as a frigate in His Majesty's Navy.106 "Saved 85 in number," Barry later reported. After requisitioning supplies from the village, he left those too seriously wounded to travel in one of the village homes with the Raleigh's surgeon.107 At dusk, Barry and the rest of his crew began the long row south, hugging the New England coastline. Nine days later, their clothes and appearance showing the wear of their journey and the tear of battle, the Raleighs reached Boston.108 His uniform soiled and sweat stained-no longer the bright blue and red of its earlier days-Barry went at once to see Warren and Deshon, while his fellow survivors described their odyssey to the people of Boston.

Ironically, Bostonians did not take the news of the Raleigh's loss as the latest in a long line of nautical disasters. While sharing Barry's disappointment in losing his ship, they reveled in the tale of its spirited defense, although not quite getting the names correct: "The Rawley frigate belonging to the States, Captn Bary, that lately sailed from this place, is taken by the enemy. She fought it is said, the Diamond, a British ship of war many hours, when a 60 gun ship came up to the aid of the Diamond. Captain Bary made a most gallant defense."109 Warren and Deshon lost no time in writing the Marine Committee: "perhaps no ship was ever better defended . . . We shall add no more, but that Captn Barry's conduct is highly approved here, and that his officers and men are greatly pleased with him." Upon hearing the news, Washington-no stranger to hard-fought defeats-praised Barry's "gallant resistance."110 Soon newspapers on both sides of the Atlantic were telling the story.

A court of inquiry investigated the loss of the frigate and Barry's role in it. His "Defence of the Raleigh" laid out the facts in stark detail with no excuses, and included his error in changing course on the morning of September 27. Typically, he downplayed both his own courageous example and the horrific danger in the fight, dryly describing "the engagement" as "being very warm."111 His only rancor was saved for young Jeac.o.c.ks, and his only vagaries regarded how many of his sailors were killed or captured, as "The reason I could not tell how many of our Men were made Prisoners was because there was no return of the kill'd on Board."112 The court not only "Honorably acquitted" Barry but also commended his bravery and leadership.113 The Marine Committee wrote to Warren that while "the loss of the Raleigh is certainly a very great misfortune . . . we have the consolation in reflecting that the spirited and gallant behaviour of her commander has done honor to the flag."114 Warren urged him to remain in Boston; a new, 36-gun frigate was under construction in Norwich, Connecticut, believing she would be turned over to Barry's command upon completion.115 Barry, who for three years had seen how a planned a.s.signment like this usually went to someone with much better political connections, wisely decided to go home and await his next command. It had been months since he had seen Sarah, who could certainly use his a.s.sistance in handling her burdens.

Once again he packed his saddlebags and began the journey to Philadelphia. Along the way he pa.s.sed an express rider carrying the latest messages from Congress, including a letter from the Marine Committee that informed the Navy Board that "Captain [Seth] Harding has been appointed to the command of the Frigate at Norwich named the Confederacy which prevents our giving the Ship to Captain Barry."116 In New York, the libel and condemnation of the Raleigh was already under way, extolling "Sir James Wallace Knight, Captain and Commander" and "John Ford, Esquire, Captain and Commander" while awarding them their shares for the Raleigh's capture. Testimony from both British and American officers was heard, including that of Phipps and the unlucky midshipman Matthew Clarkson, who survived Barry's Delaware River adventures only to be captured on that desolate rock in Pen.o.bscot Bay. The depositions from both sides are readily interchangeable-one side's testimony can easily be interchanged with the other; such was the honor of men over two hundred years ago. Both Clarkson and Phipps testified that the "crew of the said ship were partly American and partly European"-alluding to the captured British troops that comprised Barry's Marines.117 Wallace could justifiably feel that he had settled accounts with Barry, especially when the Raleigh was "taken into the British service . . . the command of her given to a lad" who was an admiral's nephew.118 Yet Barry remained at large, with even more recognition for his fighting skills. Both men would continue to sail in harm's way throughout the war. But they would never face each other again.

CHAPTER NINE.

PRIVATEER AND JUDGE.

In JUNE 1778, WHILE HER HUSBAND WAS HEADING to Boston and the Raleigh, Sarah Barry and her brother Isaac took their nieces and nephews back to Philadelphia. Any happiness at coming home was mixed with dread over what awaited them.

Brother and sister discovered that the Austin mansion survived enemy occupation, but much of their city was a wretched mess. A stench permeated the streets and alleyways, coming mainly from a huge pit next to the State House, which had served as a British military hospital. For eight months the redcoats heaped garbage, dead livestock, and an occasional corpse into the pit. The odor was so foul it forced Congress to find other accommodations until time and nature remedied the situation. Many of the city's homes and buildings were ravaged; some had been converted into stables, their elegance spoiled by manure and vermin.1 Returning Philadelphians were greeted by nine hundred American soldiers freed from the Walnut Street Prison, where they survived starvation and torture at the hands of the s.a.d.i.s.tic commandant. Although lice-infested and gaunt from a diet of leather, rats, and beef from diseased cows, they were the lucky ones. The bodies of more than a thousand of their fellow captives lay buried a block away, in unmarked graves.2 Shortly after Sarah's return to Philadelphia, the family scandal made the papers: "William Austin, yeoman, late keeper of the New Jersey ferry" was "attainted of High Treason to all interests and purposes, and shall suffer such pains and penalties, and undergo all such forfeitures as persons of high treason are to do."3 He was one of 109 Loyalists accused of treason, some of whom were still in Philadelphia, hoping to receive clemency from Washington. The mansion could be seized at any time by the Supreme Executive Council. Soon they announced the scheduled sale of "the household goods and a Negro Wench of William Austin, late of this city."4 Washington appointed his protege, Benedict Arnold, military governor of the city. Arnold faced the task of repairing both Philadelphians' structures and their spirits. Restoring homes and morale was easy when compared to Congress' battle with spiraling inflation, now a nationwide epidemic. The city needed to reestablish the West Indies trade, but merchants faced a severe shortage of ships.5 Robert Morris had seen this coming; in 1776 he observed that a "ship that in common times sold for 1,000 by a sudden demand is raised in Value to 4,000 & seamans' wages jum[p] from 4 to 14 per mo[nth]."6 Three years later, those expenses were bargains.

Prices for goods skyrocketed. Grain, the driving commodity of Philadelphia's mercantile establishments, was virtually nonexistent, supplies having been consumed by both armies over the past eight months.7 Soon Continental currency was worth a paltry 5 percent of its original value.8 This affected the navy as well: in 1775, Congress believed that $700,000 would build the original thirteen frigates. By 1780, Congress seriously mulled over a request for a million dollars to refit and supply just one.9 Barry arrived in Philadelphia amidst this sea of troubles, making his return "At a very Grate Expence" on October 27.10 Once settled in, he joined Isaac in sorting through the affidavits and bills that would hound them for years. News of the Raleigh's last battle preceded his arrival, and the Marine Committee presented him with a new a.s.signment. An invasion of Florida was being planned under General Benjamin Lincoln, with an army comprised of Continental and militia forces. Barry was to lead a flotilla of armed galleys from Maryland and Virginia.11 His compensation for this campaign would be not in dollars but in Florida land grants.12 He viewed both the plan and proposed reward as foolhardy. Already owed over $3,000 in back pay, the offer of swampland in Florida, then a Spanish territory, was hardly appealing. Being placed under Lincoln's orders carried potential conflicts: would Lincoln overrule him on naval matters? Commandeering Maryland and Virginia galleys and then sailing them away from those states was totally unfeasible. Reading between the lines, Barry saw through the committee's instructions. They gave him authority to ask for the galleys but not to requisition them. Their encouragement to "cultivate harmony" among their officers and sailors was another veiled warning to Barry: be prepared for squalls when southerners found themselves under northern command.13 Even Congress foresaw that if Barry had trouble as an out-of-towner recruiting in Boston, what would it be like to enlist Southerners?14 Having begun the year accused of insubordination by Hopkinson, he was not about to end it with a mission that undermined his authority fore and aft. For Barry, the choice was clear: he did not want this a.s.signment.

But how to say no? Having endured one fight on the floor of Congress, he was not anxious for another one. He made his feelings clear to John Brown, who suggested taking a different tack that would guarantee that the penurious Congress would let him off the hook. Barry's subsequent requests for everything from "a Secretary" to "a Table" were considered "extraordinary demands" by Henry Laurens, then President of Congress. Laurens, wise to Barry's ruse, informed Lincoln that "I believe Capt. Barry to be a brave & active Seaman, but I am told . . . that the intended service is not pleasing to him."15 The campaign in Florida was tabled altogether.16 Barry found himself free to spend Christmas at home with Sarah. The break between a.s.signments also gave him a chance to review his grim financial situation. With the estate of Sarah's mother still unsettled, and now entangled with William's infamous affairs, the Barrys were living on John's past earnings as a merchant captain and his prize shares from the Lexington's glory days.17 January came and went with no new offers from the Marine Committee. Ironically, although the captains' list was shrinking-Biddle and Wickes dead; McNeill and Thompson relieved; Nicholson and Alexander having lost their respective ships; Manley and Hacker court-martialed (and acquitted, but without commands)-there were still fewer ships than captains. Technically, Barry was now number four, but lack of Continental ships, his grim economic situation, and his fervent desire to stay in the fight left him only one option: turn privateer.

Privateer. The word had repugnant connotations in Congress. Many representatives, especially those involved in the establishment and survival of the navy, were fighting a war on two fronts: one against the British, and another with American merchants who employed privateers and benefited from their activities. "In all Transactions of America nothing has given me more Concern than that kind of irregular Conduct on b[oar]d the Am[erican] Privateers that savours more of Moorish Piracy than Christian Forebearance," Robert Morris wrote.18 As a congressman, he officially looked down on the practice: "I have not hitherto had any Concern in Privateering," he wrote to a colleague. Then, without period or comma, he offered to personally bankroll such a venture.19 Nor was he the only congressman to do so.

Since the war's outbreak, merchants saw potential wealth in a "letter of marque": a license from Congress allowing merchant-captains to make war on British shipping. Under international law, possession of this doc.u.ment meant that the seizure of an enemy ship and confiscation of its goods was a legal act; without it, the captain and his crew were nothing more than pirates. Merchants offered significantly better wages and shares than the navy's rates while still reaping sizable profits. Their biggest risk was the loss of the ship itself; a risk lessened when they considered that the only alternative was leaving the ship in port, bringing in no money at all.

"Such has been the Demand for Seamen [that] Wages have risen to ab[ou]t Twenty Dollars P[er] month-the Privateers give One Hundred Dollars P[er] man Advance," John Langdon grumbled to Morris.20 Sailors thought nothing of signing on a Continental ship, then turning around and signing on for a privateer's cruise-usually short, with potential for a rich haul-to the consternation of congressman and navy captain alike.21 With such a small navy, fighting the largest and best in history, it was no wonder that Congress viewed privateers as a necessary evil-and, by 1779, one could eliminate the word evil. "The excessive rage for privateering," as Benjamin Rush called it, was now a military and economic necessity.22 American merchantmen were well suited for it. In 1779, a privateer's vessel of choice was a fast-sailing schooner or brig carrying about ten guns with a crew of up to fifty men (by the end of the war, many privateers carried "a score of heavy cannon" and upwards of two hundred and fifty sailors).23 Congressmen were in a high dudgeon over the methods and profits of privateers, but needed only to look in a mirror to find who was responsible. The government's pay scale and allotment of prize shares were scoffed at by captain and sailor alike. It was as if Congress thought they could hoodwink seamen by offering larger percentages of shares than their British counterparts-after Congress had deducted their half-thinking that a sailor's mathematical skills were relegated only to fathoms and knots. A sailor could add and subtract, especially when it came to his account book.

Two merchants who successfully made the switch from peacetime trade to wartime privateering were Matthew and Thomas Irwin. The brothers' reputation for blockade running and eluding enemy cruisers was such that they consistently recruited the best Philadelphia seamen and captains available.24 Irwin-owned ships sailed to the West Indies with their holds full of boards, hoops, and staves, returning with sugar, mola.s.ses, rum, and coffee-all to be sold at phenomenal profits in Philadelphia.25 A letter of marque issued to the Irwins was a safe bet.

Knowing that Barry was without a.s.signment, the Irwins offered him command of their best ship, the brigantine Delaware. After receiving a leave of absence from the Marine Committee along with a.s.surances that his commission and rank were secure, Barry was free to announce at the annual meeting of the Sea Captains Club that he was going "a-privateering," bound for Port-au-Prince.26 As with practically everything else during his war years, this venture had a rocky beginning. For weeks, boisterous mobs had been protesting conditions in the streets of Philadelphia. Their mood soon infected the waterfront just as Barry began hiring a crew. On January 12, sailors, dockhands, and shipyard workers staged a strike that went from ugly to dangerous. Boarding outbound vessels, the men unrigged them, creating mayhem on ship and sh.o.r.e.27 Sailors refused to come aboard ship, dockhands refused to lift one bale, and shipyard workers touched nary a spar, rope, or sail.

The issue was money. Rather than give in to workers' demands, merchants opted to recruit sailors from French ships anch.o.r.ed in the Delaware, and Barry followed suit. In doing so he unwittingly gave his very recognizable name to this blatantly undiplomatic solution. The vice consul of France began registering protests to both Congress and the Pennsylvania Supreme Executive Council, which issued a warning "to all owners and masters of vessels against employing or harboring" French deserters.28 As Barry responded to these accusations in such a manner that the council was "satisfactorily redressed," tensions eased along the waterfront, and Barry soon had his complement of forty-five sailors-mostly English speaking.29 While Barry was given a crash course on negotiating Continental loan certificates and the nebulous worth of Continental currency in the West Indies, the Delaware's hold began to fill with construction goods, tobacco, and flour.30 Philadelphia's newest privateer had a busy day both professionally and personally on February 15. That morning he and Matthew Irwin registered "the Brigg Delaware," and Barry received his letter of marque, purchased by Irwin with a $10,000 bond and signed by the new President of Congress, John Jay.31 Afterward, he and Sarah walked over to Walnut Ward and St. Joseph's Church, where he stood G.o.dfather to his newborn niece, Thomas's daughter Anna.32 The next day, accompanied by another Irwin brig, the Lady Gates, and several merchantmen, the Delaware departed Philadelphia. She was two hundred tons and mounted ten 4-pounders; Barry was back to Lexington-size cannon, and he immediately put his crew to their gunnery exercises. To deter any attacks by Goodrich's raiders, the ships sailed as a loosely kept squadron. For the first time in five years Barry was bound for the Caribbean. It was a swift pa.s.sage; the Delaware entered the Channel de St. Marc and Port-au-Prince around March 15.33 Three months later Barry was home with the Delaware's hold "loaded with West-Indies produce and dry goods."34 With no naval appointments on his horizon, he refitted the brig for another voyage.35 His small fleet of privateers included the brigantine Impertinence, commanded by Barry's friend John Young, late of the Independence. As before, the Irwins put the little squadron under Barry's command, and gave him a new t.i.tle: "For the sake of regularity and good order we have appointed John Barry Esq Commodore of the Fleet."36 Among his crew was a seventeen-year-old boy. John Kessler had no idea of the adventures that lay in store for him when he signed on, nor did he know he was about to begin a friendship that would last nearly a quarter of a century. Born in 1761, Kessler was the son of German immigrants, and spent his teens in a series of apprentice-ships to a drygoods merchant, a brewer, and a tobacconist. He partook in military exercises with a "voluntary" company of apprentices, drilling on the grounds before the statehouse. He began his service under Barry "in the three fold capacity of Clark, Steward, & Capt'n of Marines."37 He had never been to sea before.

The "fleet" departed Philadelphia on July 14. As they pa.s.sed Chester, Barry and his men got a glimpse of the frigate Confederacy riding at anchor, the very frigate James Warren wanted him to have. What envy Barry may have felt was short-lived: two days later, the commodore had his first prize. She was "the sloop of war Harlem," a happy Barry wrote to Mathew Irwin. It was just like old times; he had s.n.a.t.c.hed another ship from "Goodrich's navy."38 Barry landed the prisoners at Sinepuxent, Maryland, only to discover that Maryland patriots were not comfortable guarding Tories who were also friends or extended family. After a detachment of local militia abandoned Barry's small contingent of sailors on the beach-forcing them to guard the sixty-four prisoners overnight by themselves-Barry and Young went into Sinepuxent themselves the next morning. After raising hackles with a local official, they left his loyalist neighbors in his hands. A prize-master and crew took the Harlem back to Philadelphia, along with a letter protesting the lack of cooperation by the patriots of Sinepuxent.39 Blood was still thicker than water along the Chesapeake.

The fleet reached Port-au-Prince in August, and by early September was homeward bound.40 North of the West Indies "a merchant vessell of Liverpool was taken," but she "came to be taken by the noted Guttridge [Goodrich] and carried into Bermuda."41 Barry's squadron reached the Capes of the Delaware Bay without further incident.

At Cape Henlopen, one of Henry Fisher's intrepid pilots told Barry about the press gang from the Confederacy, news that brought out anger and anxiety among Barry's crew. Most of them were Philadelphians, married, and as resentful of possibly serving under a New England commander as New Englanders were the year before at serving under Barry on the Raleigh. Quite a few of them "desired to be put on sh.o.r.e." Calling for all hands, Barry addressed them: "My lads if you have the spirit of freemen you will not desire to go on sh.o.r.e, nor tamely submit against your wills to be taken away, altho the force of all the Frigates boat crews were to attempt to exercise such a specie of tyranny."42 Once he "implied his consent to their defending themselves," the crew "resolved to do it at all hazards."43 The Delaware continued upriver, reaching Chester the next morning and thwarting the press gang.44 When they docked in Philadelphia on October 5, Barry's decision to protect his crew that day became the talk of the wharf taverns in Philadelphia.45 Nor did he let the Confederacy incident remain in the waters off Chester. Once he checked in with the Irwins, he reported the affair to his friends on the Marine Committee and in the State a.s.sembly. They in turn protested Harding's unsavory methods that "left families in a distressed situation," and demanded their immediate discharge. The committee determined "that no Commander of any ship or vessel of war in the service of the United States shall impress" any sailor without his state government's permission. They also commanded Harding to "Head inland immediately to discharge" any pressed sailors.46 Once home, Barry found himself in the midst of another crisis. Efforts by the State a.s.sembly to