Arrived at Dartmouth some time last week the sloop Providence, John Rathbun Esq. commander, with a valuable prize Brigantine mounting 14 guns cut out of the Harbour of New Providence, where he landed 28 men, marched up to the Fort in sight of 300 men under arms, took possession of it, from thence went to the Prison and released from their confinement about 30 American prisoners, captured about as many British, and tarried in the town three days, then made good his retreat without any loss after spiking up the cannon and stripping the magazine of all the powder; being about 1600 wt.
With this somewhat wordy sentence, the Boston Independent Chronicle and Universal Advertiser of 5 March 1778, disposed of an achievement that for sheer audacity is unrivaled in United States naval history. Captain John Peck Rathbun’s daring raid on Nassau came at an opportune time. The war was not going well for the colonists early in 1778. The British had taken Philadelphia, and Washington’s ragged army was scrounging for food and clothing at Valley Forge. News of Rathbun’s successful attack came as welcome tidings for the men who had pledged their “lives, fortunes and sacred honor” to secure independence from Great Britain. Although it seems not to have occurred to anyone at the time, a historic first was achieved by Rathbun’s men at New Providence in the Bahamas. When the American flag was flown over the captured fort, it marked the first time that the newly designed stars and stripes were flown over conquered foreign territory. The new design had been approved by the Continental Congress only a few months earlier.
Little has been known or written about Captain John Peck Rathbun and his naval career until recent years. One writer called him the “mystery man of the Continental Navy.” Despite his achievement at Nassau, and several other outstanding accomplishments during the war, he went virtually unrecognized by historians for 150 years. Even in official records, his name is consistently misspelled, as Rathburne or Rathbourne, and both a World War II destroyer and a new ocean escort named in his honor were called Rathburne.
A Rhode Islander with Boston connections, Rathbun had served in the Navy since its creation in late 1775, and had been John Paul Jones’ first lieutenant for more than a year. Esek Hopkins, first commodore of the Navy, told the Continental Congress that much of Jones’s success had been due to Rathbun’s “valour and good conduct.” With this recommendation, and with the influence of William Ellery, a Rhode Island delegate to Congress, Rathbun was promoted to captain in April 1777 and given command of the Providence.
Built as a merchant vessel early in 1775 by John Brown, of Providence, Rhode Island, the sloop was first named Katy, and began her service in Brown’s mercantile activities. In June 1775, as trouble mounted between New England merchants and British revenue agents, Brown turned the Katy over to the Rhode Island General Assembly for $90 a month. She was fitted out with ten 4-pounder cannon and 14 railside swivel guns, and became the flagship of the Rhode Island Navy under Captain Abraham Whipple. On 15 June 1775, she engaged in one of the first naval battles of the war, when Whipple outfought the sloop Diana, a tender to the British warship Rose in Narragansett Bay, and forced her captain to run her ashore to prevent capture. In the fall, the Katy was purchased by the General Assembly for $1,250, and in November she was sent to Philadelphia to become part of the just-authorized American Navy. She carried to Philadelphia a group of Rhode Island men who had volunteered to serve in the new Navy. Among them was John Peck Rathbun.
In Philadelphia, the sloop’s name was changed to Providence, in honor of the city where she was built, which also happened to be the home town of Stephen Hopkins, chairman of the Marine Committee of the Continental Congress and of his brother, Esek, who was made commodore of the infant Navy.
The Providence was between 60 and 70 feet long, on deck, with a beam of 20 feet. Her single mast was about 80 feet above deck and she carried a huge fore-and-aft mainsail whose heavy boom extended out over her stern. A topmast and two yards gave her a square sail, providing extra speed and greater maneuverability.
Her 40-foot bowsprit and jibboom, carried the jib, flying jib, and staysail. Her hull was painted black, a color which was to prove convenient to Rathbun on his Nassau cruise.
The Providence had a raised quarterdeck, providing airy quarters for the officers. The crew, however, slept in the unventilated berth deck, just under the open gun deck. At Philadelphia, two more 4-pounders were added to the sloop’s armament, giving her a total of 12 cannon-four mounted along each side of the gun deck, and two on each side of the quarterdeck.
The seemingly mad idea of a single-handed attack on Nassau came to Rathbun in December 1777, at a coffee house in Charleston, South Carolina. He had put into Georgetown, South Carolina, after capturing a British privateer, and then escorted his prisoners to Charleston. After turning them over to the proper authorities, he stopped at the coffee house to relax and catch up on the news. From other naval officers, merchant skippers, and traders, he picked up many pieces of information about the progress of the war and about the movement of shipping along the coast.
One bit of news was of particular interest. A merchant captain just returned from the Bahamas reported that an English brig, the Mary, had put into Nassau Harbor for repairs after running onto a reef. Rathbun was familiar with the Mary. He had met her briefly the previous June in a short but heated battle outside New York harbor, on his first cruise as captain of the Providence. He had captured one of the Mary’s companion ships, but the Mary and two other vessels had escaped after an exchange of shots which killed Rathbun’s sailing master.
Rathbun was also familiar with Nassau and its harbor, having participated in a 1776 attack on the island under Commodore Hopkins. Rathbun had been a lieutenant in the Providence, one of seven ships in an American fleet which captured and held the island for two weeks. Quite likely, Rathbun had also visited the island on trading voyages prior to the war.
The city of Nassau, lies on the north side of the island of New Providence, which is roughly 28 miles long, from east to west, and 11 miles across. Located athwart the Florida Straits, a natural passage through the Bahamas, New Providence had been an important island for over a century. Early in the 1700s, it had been a pirate stronghold. When England ousted the pirates, the island had become the seat of British administration for all the Bahamas. New Providence boasted an exceptionally good harbor. Hog Island, less than a mile offshore, protected the harbor and gave it two entrances. The main channel, and the deepest, was guarded by Fort Nassau, just west of the city. The Fort, with 22-foot masonry walls and 18-pound cannon, easily controlled the harbor entrance. Any vessel entering must pass within range of the Fort’s big guns, and at that distance, only a blind man could miss.
A smaller fort, called Montague, lay about two miles east of the city, and guarded the second and shallower entrance to the harbor.
Learning that his old adversary, the Mary, was laid up in Nassau, Rathbun plyed his informant with questions. He learned that the Mary had been virtually stripped for undergoing repairs, and that all her gunpowder had been taken ashore and stored in the fort. He also was told that a large segment of Nassau’s residents, particularly the business element, were Whigs, who sympathized to some degree with the colonists in their fight against Britain.
There was, in fact, a considerable amount of trade between Nassau and the colonies, particularly in salt.
Rathbun’s informant also related that Lieutenant-Governor John Gambier, who had recently arrived on the island, had no regular Army troops on hand, and kept the forts lightly manned with volunteer local militia.
Thinking over the information he had obtained, Rathbun developed an idea which probably seemed, at first, too ridiculous to consider. As he contemplated it, however, he decided that it could be done. A single small sloop could capture Nassau, and take her pick of the shipping in the harbor. The key to Rathbun’s idea was Fort Nassau, with its big cannon and its lack of trained soldiers. A small force, attacking at night and in stealth, could certainly seize the Fort from its few untrained defenders. The Fort’s cannon, trained on the city, would keep the governor and the inhabitants in check, and also force the capitulation of any ships in the harbor.
Rathbun hastened back to Georgetown and outlined his plans to the officers of the Providence: Marine Captain John Trevett, Navy Lieutenants Joseph Vesey, Daniel Bears, and George House, and Marine Lieutenant Michael Moulten. They would anchor off the island after dark, Rathbun explained, and send in the sloop’s Marine contingent to capture the fort. They would carry a scaling ladder to go over the Fort’s walls. To avoid detection en route to the island, they would disguise the Providence as an island trading sloop. Once the Fort was in the Marines’ hands, Rathbun would sail the Providence into the harbor, and seize the Mary and any other vessels of value.
The idea of taking valuable prize vessels probably helped Rathbun to sell the plan to his officers. To encourage the capture of enemy shipping, the Continental Congress granted the captors half the proceeds of all merchant ships captured, and all the proceeds of British warships.
Marine Captain Trevett, however, was not enthused about the plan. In fact, he asked for a transfer to another ship. But Rathbun was confident and determined. He needed Trevett, and would not let him leave. By the time the Providence set sail early in January, Trevett had apparently reconciled himself. He wrote in his journal:
I have had time to reflect on what I am about to undertake, and am well satisfied that we are engaged in a good cause and are fighting the Lord’s battles.
The expedition nearly met with disaster at the start. Barely out of Winyah Bay, South Carolina, the Providence was chased by three British warships. Outnumbered three-to-one, Rathbun could not give battle, and he soon found that he could not outrun the fastest of his pursuers. He escaped only by throwing overboard all his water, much of his provisions, extra rigging and lumber, and even his newly made scaling ladder. By lightening his sloop in this manner, Rathbun managed to keep ahead of the British until darkness fell. Then he made good use of the sloop’s black hull. Turning off course, he had all sails lowered, and then sat quietly on the dark ocean as the British ships raced by on his original course. He continued southward by a somewhat different route, and at daybreak there was no sign of the British ships.
Rathbun first stopped at the island of Abaco, on the northern edge of the Bahamas, some 40 miles from New Providence. Here he refilled his water casks, gathered fresh provisions, and constructed a new scaling ladder. On the morning of 27 January he set off on the final leg of his adventure. The topmast had been taken down, the gunports were closed, and all extra rigging had been housed. Crew members were on notice to go below should another vessel appear. No one approaching the little sloop would have taken her for a warship of the Continental Navy.
About midnight, the Providence dropped anchor off the western point of Hog Island, and the sloop’s barge was lowered into the water. Twenty-six Marines filled their pockets with extra cartridges, and prepared to go ashore. Not all of them were enthusiastic about landing on an enemy-held island. One reluctant fellow tried to beg off.
“I am lame, and can’t run,” he complained. “Good,” said Trevett. “You are the man I want.”
The barge would not hold all the landing party at one time, so Lieutenant Moulten went in first with 15 men, and the barge then returned to the sloop for Trevett and the other 11 Marines. They landed a mile west of the Fort, and made their way along the beach. Rathbun, in the Providence with the remaining 22 crew members, began an anxious vigil until morning, when Trevett was to raise the Stars and Stripes over the Fort as a signal that he had successfully taken possession.
Fort Nassau, was on a site now occupied by the swimming pool and waterfront grounds of the Sheraton British Colonial Hotel. The Fort was about 100 feet square, and included a barracks, officers’ quarters, kitchen, casemates, and powder magazines. Outside the 22-foot walls was a row of high, pointed, wooden pickets, forming a fence around the entire fort. The main entrance was on the side facing the city, but Rathbun’s plan called for scaling the wall on the opposite side.
Trevett, who, like Rathbun, had participated in the 1776 attack, remembered that one of the pickets had been removed at that time, leaving a hole in the fence on the west side of the Fort. Cautioning his Marines to remain silent, he made his way to the spot, and found to his delight that the picket had never been replaced. He crept through the opening and quietly approached the wall. As he crouched there, he heard footsteps above him, and then a voice boomed out the traditional, “All is well.” The unsuspecting sentry was answered by two similar calls—one from the other side of the Fort, and one from a ship lying nearby in the harbor.
Waiting a few minutes until the sentinel had continued on his rounds, Trevett returned to his men and led them back through the hole to the wall of the Fort. He had assumed that the “All is well” signal was given each half hour, and a short wait proved this to be true. As soon as the sentinel shouted again, received his reassuring replies, and walked back into the Fort, Trevett had the scaling ladder raised, and led his men up the ladder and into the Fort.
Although Rathbun had told him there would be only a few guards to contend with, Trevett had no idea how much opposition he might find. Rounding a corner of the barracks building, Trevett and his men came upon a guard, whom they quickly overpowered and forced into the building. The terrified sentry was aghast, and moaned, “For God’s sake, what have I done?” He told the Americans that there was only one other guard in the Fort. The second man was quickly seized, and the two men were questioned separately by Trevett, who was amazed to find only two guards in such an important Fort. His prisoners told him that they could summon 500 armed men within minutes by merely firing one of the cannons. This was somewhat frightening news, and was made even more so by a violent gale which was quickly developing.
Trevett was enough of a seaman to know that Rathbun in the Providence would be driven out to sea by the storm, and that he might not be able to carry out his plan of sailing the sloop into the harbor at daybreak. Rathbun had counted on the guns of the Providence, together with those of the fort, to frighten the islanders into submission. Without the sloop to back him up, Trevett knew immediately that he would be in a precarious position.
The Marine Captain probably kept this grim prospect to himself, however, as he issued orders to his men. Some were put to work filling cartridge bags with gunpowder in the Fort’s magazine. Others moved some of the heavy cannon to point them at strategic points in the city and at the several vessels which the Americans could barely discern in the harbor. Several were stationed at intervals along the walls to watch for possible visitors. Every half hour, a Marine on the seaward side shouted, “All is well” and another on the opposite side gave a responding signal. They were answered each time by sentries on at least one of the ships in the harbor, who little realized how far from well things really were.
At daybreak, Trevett confirmed his fears regarding the Providence. Although the wind had abated, there was no sign of the sloop. The little band of Marines were on their own until Rathbun could get the Providence back to the island. Trevett had no recourse but to carry out the plan Rathbun had conceived. He had the American flag hoisted over the Fort, and then sent one of his men with a note to a James Gould, a merchant who lived near the Fort. Gould, a former resident of Newport, Rhode Island, was known to both Rathbun and Trevett. Rathbun had been told that Gould was a Whig with some sympathy toward the American cause. In making direct contact with him, rather than the Lieutenant-Governor, Rathbun had hoped to capitalize on what he hoped was widespread Whig sentiment on the island.
In response to Trevett’s note, Gould came to the Fort, and Trevett clambered down the scaling ladder to meet him. He had no intention of opening the main gate, or of letting Gould know how few Americans were in the Fort. The two men shook hands, and Trevett lied boldly to his old friend.
Two hundred men and 30 officers were in the Fort, Trevett said. They were from a large American fleet lying off the island of Abaco, and had been sent to Nassau to take the ship Mary. Trevett added that he had orders not to touch any private property, but would take only gunpowder and articles of war. This assurance had been part of Rathbun’s plan to keep the merchants and inhabitants from any idea of trying to oppose the Americans with force.
Trevett then thought of his empty stomach, and those of his Marines.
“I have plenty of provisions for my men,” he told Gould. “But I would like a good breakfast for my 30 officers.”
Gould returned to the city, and in a short time sent back ample quantities of bread, butter and coffee, which the hungry Marines consumed in short order.
Meanwhile, Trevett had sent Lieutenant Moulten with two men to the other fort, Montague, which, he had learned, also had a two-man force. Informed by Moulten that 230 Americans were in possession of Fort Nassau, the guards agreed to surrender.
The Stars and Stripes flying over Fort Nassau brought some unexpected reinforcements to the Americans early in the morning. Four South Carolina merchant captains, with some 20 other Americans, appeared at the Fort and offered to join forces. The four captains explained that their ships had been captured by an English privateer, and sent into Jamaica. The four officers, with part of their crews, had made their way to New Providence, and had been dickering with friendly Whigs to obtain passage to America.
Trevett gladly accepted their offer of help, and at once put them to work. Accompanied by a midshipman, they commandeered a barge on the dock and rowed out to the Mary, lying a short distance from the Fort. The Mary’s captain, Henry Johnson, was sick ashore, and his lieutenant at first refused to let the Americans come on board. Trevett, watching from the Fort’s wall, took a direct hand in the proceedings with the stubborn lieutenant:
“I was ready to settle this affair with him, and hailed him from the fort in hard language, and some hard names,” Trevett wrote in his memoirs. “He admitted them on board.”
It was probably the Fort’s cannon as much as Trevett’s “hard language” which turned the trick, but at any rate, the Americans took possession of the Mary without firing a shot. The midshipman stayed on board, and the four South Carolinians escorted the Mary’s 45-man crew to the Fort as prisoners. In the Mary’s hold was found a valuable cargo of molasses, sugar, rum, coffee, and other goods.
Meanwhile, boarding parties had been sent out to take over four other vessels in the harbor—the sloop Washington, laden with rice and indigo; the sloop Tryal, with a small cargo, and two schooners.
Around noon, the Americans in the Fort dined grandly on turtle meat, an island delicacy, served on china dishes sent to the Fort at Gould’s instructions for Trevett’s “30 officers.” Trevett sent word to Lieutenant Moulten to return to Fort Nassau, after spiking the cannons at Fort Montague, smashing all other equipment in the Fort, and dumping the gunpowder into the sea. Moulten and his two companions returned in time to help finish off the turtle dinner.
Throughout the day, Trevett maintained an elaborate scheme to convince the islanders that there was a large force in the Fort. The Marines were given no rest. Many of them were kept on the walls in view of the city, as though on guard duty. When the guard was “changed,” with appropriate drum and fife music, the men were simply marched to another section of the Fort, and again stationed on the walls.
Meanwhile, Rathbun, in the Providence, had spent a busy and frustrating night. The heavy gale had forced him far out to sea, and it was early afternoon before he was able to get the sloop back to the island. He had no way of knowing how his Marines had fared, and he must have been overjoyed when he came close enough to see, through his glass, that the American flag was flying over the Fort. Sailing into the harbor, he quickly made contact with Trevett and ascertained what had happened.
Another sail also had appeared on the horizon, and was identified by the Carolina captains as the 16-gun British privateer Gayton, commanded by Captain William Chambers, the very ship which had captured their vessels. The Gayton would be more than a match for the Providence, Rathbun knew, so he decided to use trickery. He ordered the American flag lowered over the Fort, and sat back to watch the Gayton approach. Once she was within reach of the Fort’s cannon, he could either capture her or sink her. Loyal Britishers on the island saw through the plan, and moved to block it. Men, women and children ran onto the hills behind the town, waving hats, coats and aprons to warn the Gayton away. Chambers apparently interpreted the signals as a greeting, and continued on his course. Finally, several islanders rowed out in boats and managed to let Chambers know that something was amiss.
As Chambers turned the Gayton away, Trevett opened fire from the Fort. One 18-pound shot crashed into the privateer’s hull, but apparently did little damage. Chambers circled around Hog Island and entered the harbor from the Fort Montague side. He anchored there, and hurried ashore to learn what had happened.
With the Providence and Mary moored abreast of the city, and Fort Nassau in American hands, Rathbun was not too concerned about the Gayton. The Americans spent a peaceful, though watchful, night. The residents, however, were in consternation. Many of them were moving their goods out of their homes, either inland or over to Hog Island, apparently fearing seizure by the Americans.
The next morning, work parties began preparing the Mary, Washington, and Tryal for sea. Rathbun had decided to burn the two schooners since he did not have enough men to put prize crews aboard them. Accordingly, their cargoes were removed. All the Fort’s gunpowder was taken aboard the Providence, along with some 300 small arms. Rathbun also confiscated 400 pounds of gunpowder which he found in possession of a local merchant.
Rathbun put Lieutenant House in command of the Mary, and Lieutenant Bears in charge of the Washington. With the approval of his officers and crew, he turned the Tryal over to the South Carolina captains and their men, granting them full prize privileges “in consideration of their singular courage and assistance.”
The islanders, encouraged by the arrival of Chambers, were showing more and more restlessness. Large numbers collected on the hills behind the fort, and the Americans could see gun barrels glistening in the sun. About noon, some 150 to 200 of them approached the Fort. Trevett described them as a “motley crew of Negroes, Mulattoes and Whites.”
The Marines wanted to open fire, but Rathbun had given orders to avoid bloodshed if at all possible. Accordingly, Trevett made his men hold their fire, even when one shot was fired into the Fort. One of the mob recognized Trevett from the 1776 attack, when he had commanded a company of Marines who had captured Lieutenant-Governor Montfort Brown.
“See, there is that damned long-nose buckerer come again, that carried off Governor Brown,” the man shouted, at seeing Trevett.
“I paid no attention to such small stuff,” Trevett wrote in his memoirs. The fact that he remembered it seems to indicate that he did pay attention.
During the day, the Americans learned from a friendly Whig that Chambers had landed men and cannon, and was planning to attack the Fort that night. They sent a note to Governor Gambier, ordering him to disperse the men who could be seen on the hills overlooking the Fort. The note warned that, unless the men were dispersed in 15 minutes, the Americans would open fire on the city with the Fort’s 18-pounders. At the same time, Midshipman John Scranton was sent shinnying up the flagpole with a hammer, and nailed the Stars and Stripes to the pole. This was a recognized gesture signifying an intent to fight to the last man, since the colors could not be lowered. The threat served its purpose, for within a few minutes, the hills were deserted.
“During the evening, the whole town was as still as the grave,” Trevett wrote.
Rathbun and Trevett did not know that only a piece of luck kept them from undergoing a joint land-sea attack that night. Chambers had been joined by a sizable group of loyal inhabitants, who had agreed to attack the Fort after dark, while Chambers took the Gayton down to engage the Providence. At 11 p.m., the Gayton started off, but an unskilled pilot ran her aground. With the ship out of action, the land forces became discouraged, and the plan was abandoned.
Rathbun did know, however, that his luck was running thin, and that there was no point in remaining any longer. The vessels were all ready for sea, and every ounce of grunpowder [sic] that could be found had been stored on the Providence. The two schooners were set on fire. Pilots were pressed into service to guide the other vessels out of the harbor. The Mary, the Washington and the Tryal sailed first, and the last of Rathbun’s men finally boarded the Providence after spiking Fort Nassau’s cannons and smashing the rammers and other items needed to fire them.
Just before the Providence sailed, Captain Chambers sent an invitation to Rathbun and his officers to join him in a bowl of punch at a local tavern, promising that there would be no treachery. It would be interesting to know whether Chambers hoped to capture the Americans, or whether he just admired their audacity and wanted to share a drink with them. Rathbun took the more cynical view, and sent word to Chambers to bring the Gayton out to “. . . take the Providence, and then we’ll take some punch.”
As soon as the Americans left the harbor, Chambers brought the Gayton around to the Fort, and stormed ashore. He vented his anger on Gould and other Whigs, and ordered some of them imprisoned.
Governor Gambier’s official report of the invasion indicates how effective had been Rathbun’s two-pronged plan to keep the inhabitants in line—the threat to cannonade the city, and the promise to respect private property.
Gambier wrote:
I am Extremely Sorry to acquaint your lordship [Lord George Germain] that a Very Unfortunate Accident happened here a few days after my Arrival, and before I had time to Make any Disposition for the Safety and Defense of the Island.
On the 27th of January in the night a Party of Marines were landed from a Vessel of War belonging to the American Congress to the Westward of this Town, who marched silently to Fort Nassau and took Possession of it. Very Unfortunately, there were many Americans here (who had got Passage from the West Indies) who went into the Fort and joined them. They then pointed the Guns on the Town and sent a Flag of Truce to acquaint the Inhabitants, if there was the least attempt made to raise any Force to attack the Fort, they would fire Immediately on the Town, and at the same time to assure them that none of the Property of the Inhabitants should be injured, which Threat and Promise prevented many of the Inhabitants from joining me, and thereby the Americans considerably outnumbered the Assistance I could get.
One can sympathize today with Governor Gambier in making his carefully-worded report. In describing the Providence as a “Vessel of War” and in telling Lord Germain that he was outnumbered by the Americans, Gambier did his best to gloss over the fact that a little sloop with 50 men had captured and held his island for three days.
Rathbun’s daring gamble had paid off. He had accomplished the seemingly impossible. His exploit, in a later day, would have brought newspaper headlines and nationwide fame. In 1778, it brought only a few lines of newspaper notice.
With three prizes, the cruise should have meant at least financial success for Rathbun and his men. Since Captain Johnson carried a British Navy commission, Rathbun considered the Mary a warship, and expected to receive all the proceeds of her rich cargo. In addition, he counted on half the profits of the rice and indigo in the Washington. It was no wonder that he and his men generously yielded their share of the Tryal to the South Carolinians.
As fate would have it, there were to be few prize dollars for Rathbun and his crew. The three ships encountered heavy gales on the trip home. The Washington proved unseaworthy, and nearly foundered. Bears had to throw most of the cargo overboard to keep her afloat, and even then he had to turn back to the West Indies. He ended up in Santo Domingo, where he sold the battered vessel and bought passage for himself and his crew to Charleston, South Carolina. They were captured en route by a British frigate, and spent the next two years in an English prison camp.
The Providence and the Mary made their separate ways to Massachusetts, after surviving bitter cold which resulted in at least one man freezing to death and many others suffering severe frostbite. But even in a home port, their troubles were not over. The Eastern Navy Board, which governed naval affairs in New England, ruled that the Mary was a merchant ship, despite Captain Johnson’s Navy commission, and told Rathbun that he and his crew were entitled to only half the proceeds of her sale. This ruling caused a bitter argument, and an appeal to Congress, but before the dispute was finally settled, the Mary was burned at her dock by a British invasion force.
From a financial standpoint, Rathbun’s Nassau expedition had been for naught. But from the standpoint of imagination and courage, it was an achievement that rates more notice in American naval history.
Commander William James Morgan, in his Captains to the Northward—The Story of the New England Captains in the Continental Navy, declared:
On the strength of this New Providence adventure alone, Captain John Peck Rathbun must be ranked as one of the most resourceful, skillfully audacious and successful captains in the Continental Navy.
__________
Having served as an enlisted man in the U. S. Marine Corps from 1942 to 1946, Mr. Rathbun graduated from Wayne State University in 1952. From 1951 to 1964, he was a newspaper reporter in the Detroit area. He has been the Administrative Assistant to Congressman William D. Ford (D. Mich) since January 1965. Mr. Rathbun is a collateral descendant of Captain John Rathbun.