During the last ten years the writer of this article has been engaged in collecting material for his "History of the United States," and one of the items brought to light in his exhaustive research is of peculiar interest (at this time when German ruthlessness in warfare is still tingling in the minds of the civilized world) showing, as it does, how the infant navy of the United States strangled a serpent of military "frightfulness" at the outbreak of the American revolution. This old-time "frightfulness" was worse than the gas bombs invented by the Teutons in the late war, more deadly than liquid fire and quite as destructive to human life and property as the pitiless submarine campaign inaugurated and carried out by the enemy in the great world conflict.
In order that we may later understand the viciousness and far-reaching influence of this "war horror," so adroitly choked off by our infant navy in 1775, we must remember that at that period wood entered, almost exclusively, in all army, navy and domestic construction; so that fire became man's greatest and most dreaded enemy. In the present day of steel construction, when danger arising from conflagration has been reduced to a minimum, it is difficult for us to realize the real terror inspired by flames a century and more ago.
An illustration or two will make this clearer to us. Down to the beginning of the last century, it was customary for Englishmen to date current events from the "Great London Fire." It was a catastrophe that seemed to be indelibly fixed in the Anglo-Saxon mind—rivaling, if not superseding, the era of Christian chronology. Indeed, there are Britons of the old school to-day, who find it easier to recall the date of the "London Fire" than the year in which Trafalgar was fought. An illustration, even more forceful, is had in the title of the first considerable history of the British Navy. This was a comprehensive work in six large volumes, written by Captain Isaac Schomberg, R. N., and published toward the close of the eighteenth century. It was entitled "A History of the English Navy and an Account of the Conflagration in His Majesty's War Ships and Dock Yards." Evidently this pioneer historian of England's great navy was impressed with the then prevailing idea that the demon fire was quite as formidable an antagonist to contend against as the foe in human flesh.
Just before the outbreak of the American revolution, English artisans had perfected a device (the details of which will be explained further on) by means of which the rays of the sun were collected in a system of mirrors and reflectors and could be concentrated on a given point a mile or two away (then beyond effective cannon fire) so as to instantly set fire to any wooden structure and to cause the death of any human being facing its deadly heat. It was this weapon that several of the deposed governors of the royal colonies in North America planned to use against the refractory Americans with a view to "bringing them to terms." And, right here, it should be recorded that these diabolical "town burning" machines were shipped to the new world, not at the instance of the British Government, but in spite of official disapproval—for the humiliating fact has recently been discovered that these deposed governors (too many of them being of American birth) caused these machines to be secretly shipped to the rebelling colonies.
Fire and hanging seem to have been the favorite instruments of punishment resorted to by these royal governors when endeavoring to control the spirited Americans. We had ample evidence of this during Bacon's rebellion in Virginia in 1676. When Governor Berkeley finally gained the upper hand, he hanged 20 of the leading "rebels" and burned the houses of others. "The old fool has put to death more people in that naked country than I did here for the death of my father," exclaimed Charles II. When our revolution finally broke out, we find it only natural that the Royalists turned to fire as their most effective weapon for subduing the "rebels." "We will burn their town about their ears and see if that will bring them to reason" declared the Royalists and we had ample evidence that they fully intended to carry out this line of "repression" when at the beginning of hostilities, Captain Mowatt (at the instance of the Tories) burned the town of Falmouth (now Portland, Maine) while Governor Dunmore, by his direct orders, caused the total destruction of Norfolk, Virginia, by fire.
Town-Burning the "War-Horror" of Our Revolution
It was by the ruthless weapon of fire that the Royalists intended to bring the refractory Americans to their knees and, had it not been for the intervention of some of the leading members of Parliament, this "campaign of frightfulness" undoubtedly would have been carried out. And, let us keep it clearly in mind that this ruthlessness was advocated, not by the influential Englishmen at home, but by the American and Canadian bred Royalists whose hatred for the patriot cause spurred them to the use of weapons which the British Admiralty refused to use on the ground that it "shocked civilization."
We know how Edmund Burke, in Parliament, took exception to the sum of £160,837 in Sir Guy Carleton's accounts expended for carrying on "of a savage war in a manner contrary to the usages of the civilized nations against the English colonies in North America"; also the sum of £16,000 for the same purpose "in the southern department of Indians"; also the sum of £5000 which "hath been expended in carrying on a war of insurgent negroes against the inhabitants of the Providence of Virginia"; and excepting "whatever hath been paid out of said extraordinary specified in General Carleton's correspondence, for one hundred crosses and five gross of scalping knives, the said expenditures being disgraceful to religion and humanity."
And the same ministerial protest was made when the deposed governors and their royalist supporters sent to England for a ship-load of these "town burning machines." We have reason to believe that the Admiralty officially refused to ship these hideous weapons; but, as we can readily understand, the unconscionable Royalists, driven to desperation by hate and reverses, found means by which a ship-load was smuggled to America—that is, the diabolical cargo nearly reached the shores of the new world, when the ubiquitous American sailor happened along and captured the whole outfit.
Capture of the Tory "Town-Burning'' Machines
It was on the 29th of November, 1775, that the little American cruiser Lee, Captain John Manly (afterward a distinguished officer in the United States Navy) put into Cape Ann Roads with her prize Nancy which she had captured only a day or so before at sea. The Nancy was from England, laden with military stores for the British Army, then occupying Boston. Her cargo was officially listed as follows; Two thousand muskets and bayonets besides eight thousand fuses, thirty-one tons of musket shot, three thousand round shot for 12-pounders, a 13-inch mortar, two 6-pounders, several barrels of powder and fifty carcasses or great frames for combustibles to set buildings on fire."
It was the item of "fifty carcasses" that reveals the Tory plot to carry on the war for suppressing the Americans in a manner "disgraceful to religion and humanity." Evidently the American captors of the Nancy did not know what these "carcasses" were or, if they did, how to use them. They seemed to regard the great frames (each one made up of four or five hundred mirrors, prisms and reflectors) as some monstrous curiosity, concocted by some ingenious Englishman for the amusement of children or for the adornment of homes. The muskets, bayonets and other military stores found in the Nancy were immediately forwarded to the American Army then besieging Boston, but these "carcasses" seem to have been set aside as "unknown quantities." Without doubt, the mirrors were taken apart and utilized by colonial dames as a proper household appendage, the prisms may have been used to amuse the children while the reflectors came in handy on dark nights to enhance the feeble light of tallow candles. What we positively know, however, is that the patriots did not use these "town-burning machines" for their original object.
But the British military authorities in America did know just what these diabolical machines were intended for. We have conclusive evidence of this in a letter General Howe (then commanding the British Army occupying Boston) wrote to Lord Dartmouth in England. Howe had been apprehensive, during the autumn of 1775, over the investment of Boston by the patriot army—however much he may have affected to have despised American military prowess. When he was informed that the Lee had captured the Nancy, his apprehensions were increased for he wrote, "The circumstance is unfortunate, as it puts in the enemy's hands the means of setting the town on fire." Howe knew that the "carcasses" were aboard the Nancy and he had every reason to believe that the enterprising and ingenious Yankees would quickly discover their object and mechanism, plant them on hilltops overlooking Boston and, by means of their two-mile range, be enabled to set fire to the wood-built city in spite of any cannon fire the English could bring against them. Indeed, so deadly was the concentration of sun-rays these machines could focus at a given point, that no gun crew could face their deadly heat, so each cannon would be put out of commission the instant the "sun-fire" was played on its gunners.
How Our Infant Navy Helped to Capture Boston
It is far from the purpose of this article to detract in the slightest degree the credit so justly due the American land forces in their siege and ultimate capture of Boston. Washington's masterly stroke in the occupation of Dorchester Heights and planting thereon a battery that commanded the town below is one of the most brilliant achievements in military history—the fact that its accomplishment was bloodless not in the least diminishing its glory. Nevertheless, we have it in the written official words of General Howe himself that the capture of the Nancy "is unfortunate, as it puts in the enemy's hands the means of setting the town on fire."
This was as far back as November, 1775, and Boston was not evacuated by the British until the 17th of the following March. During all that intervening period, Howe knew that the Americans had in their possession fifty "carcasses," any one of which, if mounted on any of the hill-tops within two miles of Boston, could have set fire to the town. That the Americans were willing to make that sacrifice is clearly revealed by Avery in Vol. V of his great history (page 306) when he records "In fact the patriots had considered the destruction of the beleaguered town [Boston] and the continental congress had authorized an attack 'notwithstanding the town and property in it may he destroyed.' Hancock wrote to Washington, 'You will notice the resolution relative to an attack on Boston. This passed after a most serious debate in a committee of the whole house, and the execution was referred to you. May God crown your attempt with success. I most heartily wish it, though individually, I may be the greatest sufferer"—the bulk of Hancock's private fortune being invested in Boston real estate.
Luckily for all concerned, and for humanity in general, the Yankee captors of the Nancy did not know what these "carcasses" were for or, if they did, they refused to use them for their maniacal purpose. Nevertheless, the fact remains that Howe was "apprehensive" because these machines had fallen into the hands of the patriots. He, at least, knew what they were intended for. He knew that their murderous and inflammable breath would destroy Boston within twenty- four hours, making it not only impossible for his army to remain within reach of this "sun-fire," but rendering the withdrawal hazardous in the extreme. True, the American batteries on Dorchester Heights compelled the enemy's evacuation of the city, but for months preceding that, Howe knew that the Americans possessed machines which could have set fire to the town and driven him out in disastrous haste—and to that highly appreciable, military, extent, we find that the infant navy of the United States took a direct part in determining the British commander-in-chief to evacuate this "hot-bed of rebellion" in America.
Was Washington the "Father of the Navy"?
In this connection a most interesting point rises (a point which, hitherto, seems to have entirely escaped the attention of our historians) namely: was Washington the "Father of the Navy"? We are familiar with the arguments advanced in behalf of John Paul Jones and John Barry as being "Founders of the Navy," but here the stubborn fact appears that before Jones, Barry or any other seaman received their commissions, or indeed, before Congress decided to establish a navy, Washington, as the highest military official of the rebelling colonies, issued commissions on September 2, 1775, to armed craft for the expressed purpose of capturing enemy transports arid cruisers wherever found.
This was a period when the colonists were still hesitating about resorting to arms in defense of their rights. Elbridge Gerry, about this time wrote, "We had waged a ministerial war, and not one against our most gracious sovereign." It was not until October 13, 1775, that Congress appointed its first naval committee with power limited to fitting out two cruisers to intercept British vessels laden with military supplies bound for America, and it was not until the 13th of the following December that Congress authorized the construction of the first vessels for our navy. On December 22 the naval committee submitted to Congress the first official list of officers for our navy, yet we find that as early as September 2, 1775, Washington, in his official capacity as commander-in-chief of the colonial military forces, borrowed the armed schooners Lynch and Franklin from Massachusetts and commissioned them to cruise against the enemy. He also issued commissions for other armed craft, including the Lee which captured the "carcass-laden" Nancy. The Lynch and Franklin made one of the most successful cruises of the revolution, capturing ten British vessels together with Governor Wright of New Brunswick. In all, nearly forty enemy craft were captured by the cruisers commissioned by Washington which, when we consider that they were mostly laden with military supplies (which our land forces were desperately in need of) may be considered one of the important ocean campaigns of the revolution.
No one realized better than Washington the dominating part sea power was destined to play in the coming struggle. There was not enough powder in all the colonies to carry through a single campaign; and, what was more serious, the patriots lacked the material, machinery and money with which to produce the required article. Washington clearly saw that he must rely on sea captures for arms and ammunition and it was to this end that he wrote to Governor Cooke, of Rhode Island, suggesting that an expedition be sent to Bermuda to seize the military stores known to be there. Before the Rhode Islanders could act on this suggestion, however, Pennsylvania sent two armed vessels to Hamilton and captured the stores.
Possibly Washington's appreciation of the value of sea power was enhanced by the fact that he (when in his teens) had secured a commission in the royal navy as a midshipman but had been deterred from entering the service through parental solicitude. In any event, he clearly saw that the colonists in their struggle for independence must rely mainly on sea power to secure an adequate supply of arms and ammunition. It would seem, therefore, that in issuing commissions to the Lynch and Franklin on September 2, 1775 (several weeks before Congress took definite steps for the formations of a navy) Washington became not only the "father of his country" but of the navy as well.
What Were These "Carcasses"?
Like many another war weapon, these "carcasses" were a growth rather than the invention of any one man. It is of historic record that Archimedes, by arranging a few mirrors in a frame so as to catch the rays of the sun and concentrate them on a given point, succeeded in burning the Roman ships that were besieging Syracuse. By using the same system of mirrors, it is known that Proclus destroyed the galleys of Vitalian when attacking Byzantium. Here were achievements sufficiently alluring to the war inventor to work on with the prospect of "wonderful" results—and the results seem to have been "wonderful" for we find that when the machine had been perfected so as to be available for sea as well as land battles, the British Admiralty firmly refused to use it on the ground that it was a "shock to civilization." These were the machines the royalist governors proposed to use in suppressing the American Revolution.