A tablet on the south wall of a building at the northeast corner of South Main and Planet Streets, Providence, Rhode Island, bears this inscription:
SONS OF LIBERTY
Upon this corner stood the Sabin Tavern in which on the evening of June 9, 1772, the party met and organized to destroy H.B.M. Schooner Gaspee in the destruction of which was shed the first blood in the American Revolution.
This modest monument bears witness, then that if the Revolution had a single foment which might be termed its generation the spark liberating the colonies was struck at this time and place. A band of Patriots had met, conspired, and moved to revolt against tyranny and oppression, and the result was more than merely successful. So audacious, so presumptuous, was their act that a reward of several hundred pounds was posted for the apprehension and arrest of any of the perpetrators, yet it is everlastingly to the credit °f the patriots that so completely were the members welded by a sense of right and honor, that not a single man was ever convicted for participation.
I here were some fifty Providence men who, sworn to secrecy, pushed out from the city wharves that night in longboats, with oars muffled, to float down with the tide to Namquit Point where the hated Gaspee lay under command of Lieutenant William Duddingston. Proudly insolent, with the British Navy at her back, the schooner preyed upon the shipping of Narragansett Bay.
But now the boats neared their intended victim. A hoarse voice hailed them from the deck. It was the watch. A shot rang out, fired by the leader of the colonists. Lieutenant Duddingston, the King’s revenue officer, fell back, wounded. A short tussle as the men swarmed over the rail, and the Gaspee was soon in flames which burned out as dawn lit the east. First blood for the colonies.
Back home in bed, citizens of Providence of high respectability, who had lately manned the eight longboats, breathed easier. Oppressive maritime laws for Rhode Island, eh? It was indeed high time that the colonists organized for their own protection. England in vain offered 1,000 pounds reward for the detection of the leader, and 500 pounds for any member of the company who assisted in the destruction of the schooner. Although 50 men knew the perpetrators, none would tell or claim the rewards, and to this day there is grave doubt about all but a few of that first little band who struck for liberty.
The first open and armed opposition to the forces of His Majesty, and the first blood shed in the Revolutionary War, was the Gaspee affair, and its leader was Abraham Whipple of Rhode Island, the real “forgotten man” of the Continental Navy. It was Whipple who, as a captain, later on fired the first gun of the Revolution at an English ship on the Atlantic. It was he who, as a merchant marine commander, first unfurled the American flag at London after the war. And it was Abraham Whipple who accomplished one of the greatest single exploits in all naval history without firing a shot. This daring feat, unsurpassed in war annals, is unaccountably relegated to an insignificant paragraph or two in a few histories, just as the portrait of Captain Whipple is hung in obscurity in a Providence historical society hall. No man in the Continental Navy, according to Dr. Samuel Prescott Hildreth, the eminent historian, ever excelled Whipple for stern, rigid discipline, while his accomplishments warrant his being ranked with the illustrious John Paul Jones and redoubtable Captain John Barry. Yet the government chose to permit Whipple to serve for years without receiving a dollar of pay, neglected his petitions until he was forced into bankruptcy, and honors his memory with no inscription, official portrait, or monument such as befits one of the earliest of our naval heroes.
A son of John Whipple, one of the original owners of the Providence Plantations, Abraham was born in the town of Providence on September 26, 1733. Early in life he was drawn to the sea, and while still a young man he was appointed captain of a merchantman sailing in the West Indian trade. As a practical mariner he acquired an intimate knowledge of seamanship and navigation and an acquaintance with northern harbors which was to stand him in good stead during the Revolution. There is some evidence to show that, under letters of marque, he engaged in privateering during the war with France. Yet it was not until the Gaspee affair that he first came into historical prominence.
As a man of unquestioned patriotism and as a leader, Whipple was early chosen for a salient role in the activities of the smallest colony. The State General Assembly, in June, 1775, directed the committee of safety to charter two vessels to protect the trade of the (Newport) colony. At that time the only Rhode Island town having a customhouse was Newport, boasting a much greater activity than Providence. During the year ended December 31, 1763, for example, 181 vessels from Europe, Africa, and the West Indies, and 352 from neighboring colonies, cleared at the customs in Newport.
Two vessels to protect trade were duly authorized, one of 10 guns, 14 swivels and 80 men, the other of less force. Abraham Whipple was invested with the command of both, with the title of commodore. The larger vessel was the Katy, Whipple’s first naval command, and the smaller was the Washington, captained by John Grimes. To this naval armament two row galleys carrying 60 men were added in August.
The General Assembly equivocally expressed the belligerent step as a measure “to protect the trade of the colony.” Commodore Whipple explains this phrase in a memorial which he subsequently addressed to Congress. He stated that he received his appointment on the 15th day of June (1775); that it was made his duty to clear the bay of the tenders belonging to the British frigate Rose, then off Newport; and that on the very first day of his appointment he discharged this duty by making prize of one of these tenders, after touching off at her the first cannon fired at any part of His Majesty’s Navy in the Revolutionary struggle.
Partly as a result, relations between the two ships were both prolonged and acrimonious. Though Whipple was ill-equipped to come to grips with the Rose, his courage and spirit were equal to any contingency. The celebrated correspondence between the two skippers is as follows:
From Capt. Sir James Wallace of the Rose:
You, Abraham Whipple, on the 10th of June, 1772, burned His Majesty’s vessel, the Gaspee, and I will hang you at the yard-arm.
James Wallace.
To which note, more curt than courteous, Whipple replied with equal brevity and dispatch,
To Sir James Wallace, Sir:
Always catch a man before you hang him.
Abraham Whipple.
On August 26, 1775, the General Assembly instructed the delegates to Congress to
use their whole influence at the ensuing Congress for building, at the continental expense, a fleet of sufficient force for the protection of these colonies, and for employing them in such manner and places, as will most annoy our enemies and contribute to the common defense of these colonies.
This, it is believed, was the earliest move toward the establishment of a continental Navy. Congress met on September 5, and these instructions were laid before its Members on October 3 following. The scheme met with favor, and measures were instituted to further the building of a navy. A congressional committee was instructed to procure three vessels, one of 14, one of 20, and one of 36 guns, for the Protection and defense of the United Colonies.
Esek Hopkins of North Providence, than brigadier general in the service of his state, received the appointment of Commander in Chief of the infant navy, it was desirable that he repair as soon as Practicable to Philadelphia with as many officers and men as he could enlist in the service. The Rhode Island Council of War thereupon dispatched the sloop Katy under command of Commodore Whipple Philadelphia, transporting Commander Hopkins with his men, with orders to remain in the service of Congress in case the armed vessels were directed to cruise off England, and if not, to return home.
Whipple’s ship was retained in the service and her name changed to Providence. The proposed naval armament was increased, and Commodore Whipple was appointed to the command of the ship Columbus.
One morning early in 1776, Commander Hopkins stepped into his barge at the foot of Walnut Street and, amid cheers and hat-waving, made his way through the icy river to the deck of his flagship, the Alfred. The ship had been named, curiously enough, in honor of Alfred the Great, regarded as the founder of the British Navy, with which it was soon to come to grips.
It is claimed that as the Commander in Chief gained the quarter-deck, Lieutenant John Paul Jones hoisted the yellow rattlesnake flag with its motto “Don’t tread on me!” (the famous Gadsden flag).
The new navy, under Hopkins, left the capes of the Delaware on February 17, 1776. It consisted of the ships Alfred (the first flagship of the Continental Navy) Captain Dudley Saltonstall, and Columbus, Captain Whipple; the brigs Andrea Doria, Captain Nicholas Biddle; Cabot, Captain John B. Hopkins; and the sloops Providence, Fly, Hornet, and Wasp.
Without too strict an interpretation of the orders issued him, Commander Hopkins sailed to the Bahamas where he took from the town of New Providence all the cannon and military stores there, consisting among other things of 88 cannon from 9 to 36 pounders, 15 mortars from 4 to 11 inches in diameter, 5,458 shells, and more than 33,000 round shot. The fleet returned to New London on April 8 and subsequently made Providence. This was the first naval expedition against the British under congressional sanction.
During the return voyage, on April 4, the fleet captured two small armed British vessels, the Hawke and the Bolton, and two days later ran upon the Glasgow, a 20-gun frigate. In a brief and sharp encounter the Americans lost 10 killed and 14 wounded, whereas the British ship made good her escape. When the result of this engagement became known ashore, a cry of indignation was raised, against which the new Navy had but the ineffectual yet truthful defense of lack of experience, organization, and discipline. On April 30, Captain Whipple of the Columbus, having been blamed for not closing with the Glasgow in the April 6th affair, demanded a court-martial, which was held on board the Alfred at Providence, resulting in his acquittal. This was not the only time he was up on the carpet, but in all cases he was given a free bill of health; although for his part in the regrettable Glasgow encounter Esek Hopkins was censured by Congress and dismissed from the service on charges not now readily understood.
A listing, dated December 22, 1775, gives Abraham Whipple the honor of second ranking captain in the service, but there is reason to believe the selection somewhat arbitrary and not entirely agreeable to all those holding commissions. An official list from the Journals of Congress as of October 10, 1776, gives his rank as twelfth. On the same list John Paul Jones ranks eighteenth. During this period, Whipple’s activities are of an obscure nature, but he is recorded as having command of the sloop Carea up to December 6, 1776.
British ships appearing off Newport served to intimidate certain Yankee skippers, yet even such a display of superior power did not daunt Whipple, who was shortly to show his mettle against an overwhelming force under most favorable circumstances.
He was, under date of April 4, 1777, in receipt of a letter from the Marine Committee of the Continental Congress in Philadelphia, addressed to Captain J(ohn) B. Hopkins of the Warren, Providence, R. I., urging on him haste in getting to sea and preying on British transports and commerce; and ordering him to co-operate with the Council of War at Providence. Captain Abraham Whipple of the Providence and Captain Dudley Saltonstall of the Trumbull received copies.
Commodore Whipple sailed from Providence on March 20, 1778, in his new frigate Providence for France, and battled his way past one of the British cruisers off Newport. Whipple, during the dark and storm, forced a path through the hostile fleet, pouring broadsides into the enemy’s ships and sinking one of their tenders. The new command was a ship of 28 guns, and is not to be confused with the early vessel by the same name, which was a sloop. Naval records show that there were three vessels named Providence during the Revolution, tending toward some confusion on the part of casual historians, whose task is made no lighter by the fact that letters of marque were given to no less than 19 Rangers, 7 Queens of France, 7 Rattlesnakes, 17 Revenges, 11 Sallys, 11 Venus’, 8 Washingtons, 13 Neptunes (of which 4 were from Philadelphia), and 25 Betseys! The frigate, under Commodore Whipple, made many prizes during 1778, but was to cover herself with glory during the following summer and provide her commander with enough renown to place his name among the immortals of the Navy. Why it never arrived there is an unfathomable mystery to the writer.
On June 18, 1779, the frigates Providence, Commodore Abraham Whipple, Queen of France, Captain John P. Rathburn, and Ranger, Captain Thomas Simpson, sailed from Boston on a cruise to the eastward. The Commodore’s ship and that of Captain Rathburn each carried 28 guns, while the Ranger mounted only 18. The log of the last ship records the capture of a vessel on July 20 and another the next day, both from Jamaica. As to what further occurred during that eventful month on the high seas off the Newfoundland banks we have varying accounts, but they agree in the main on one point: a large number of enemy vessels was captured and sent home under prize crews to bring a vast sum to the wavering colonial fortunes of war. A communication from Mr. John Peck, a midshipman on board the Queen of France at the time, is as follows:
About the middle of July near the banks of Newfoundland, as the squadron lay-to in a thick fog, signal-guns were heard, and at intervals the sound of ships’ bells, striking the hours. From this they supposed themselves to be near a fleet. About eleven o’clock the fog began to clear, when the crew of the Queen of France to their great surprise found themselves nearly alongside of a large merchant-ship and soon after they perceived themselves to be in a fleet of about 150 sail, under convoy of a 74, and several frigates and sloops of war.
The Queen of France immediately bore down to the large ship and hailed her. She answered that the fleet was from Jamaica, bound to London. The English ship then hailed the American and was answered: “His Majesty’s ship Arethusa from Halifax, on a cruise.” The American then inquired if they had seen any rebel privateers. The Englishman replied that several had been driven out of the fleet. The American captain, Rathburn, then requested the commander of the English vessel to come on board, which he did; when, to his great astonishment, he found himself a prisoner. Captain Rathburn then sent one of his own boats and the English captain’s boat, both well manned, to the ship, of which they quietly took possession, without exciting the least alarm m the fleet notwithstanding many of the vessels were nearly within hail of the one captured. Soon after the capture a second ship, Commodore Whipple came alongside and ordered Captain Rathburn to edge away out of the fleet as soon as possible; for the commander was persuaded they should be discovered and overpowered. Captain Rathburn then pointed out the two large ships he had captured, and requested permission to remain. The Commodore at first disapproved of this project; but was at length prevailed upon by Captain Rathburn to stay in the fleet all day and capture as many vessels as they possibly could in the same cautious manner. As soon as it was dark they left the fleet, after having captured eleven vessels without giving an alarm.
That such an amazing performance was Possible is largely due to two important factors: (1) that there existed then no intership communication save by megaphone, and (2) that most vessels were total strangers to each other and might prove friendly as readily as hostile upon identification. One ship in a fleet of 150 could hardly be conversant with the appearance and rigging of more than a few of the total number, making it relatively simple for an enemy with concealed colors and armament to pose as another merchantman, particularly since colors representing both sides of the conflict were standard equipment in ships’ lockers.
A slightly different and more detailed account of this unparalleled feat is given by Andrew Sherburne (later a minister) who had been taken aboard the Ranger when not yet 14, and was therefore but a youth on this cruise. Of the encounter he writes:
I was waiter to Mr. Charles Roberts, the boatswain, and was quartered at the third gun from the bow (to carry cartridges). Being ready for sea, we sailed to Boston, joined the Providence frigate commanded by Commodore Whipple and the Boston frigate Queen of France. I believe that this small squadron composed nearly the entire navy of the United States. We proceeded to sea some time in June 1779. A considerable part of the crew of the Ranger being raw hands and the sea rough, especially in the Gulf Stream, were exceedingly sick and myself among the rest. We afforded a subject of constant ridicule to the old sailors.
Our officers improved every favorable opportunity for working the ship and exercising the guns. We cruised several weeks, made the Western Islands, and at length fell in with the homeward-bound Jamaica fleet on the banks of Newfoundland. It was our practice to keep a man at the masthead constantly by day, on the look-out. The moment a sail was discovered a signal was given to our consorts and all possible exertion was made to come up with the stranger, or discover what she was.
About seven o’clock one morning the man at the fore-topmast head cried out “A sail, a sail on the lee bow; another there, and there!” Our young officers ran up the shrouds and with their glasses soon ascertained that more than fifty sail could be seen from the masthead. It should here be observed that during the months of summer, it is extremely foggy on the banks of Newfoundland. Sometimes a ship cannot be seen at the distance of 100 yards, and then in a few moments you may have a clear sky and bright sun for half an hour, and you are enveloped in the fog again.
The Jamaica fleet which consisted of about 150 sail, some of which were armed, was convoyed by one or two line of battle ships, several frigates, and sloops of war. Our little squadron was in the rear of the fleet and we had reason to fear that some of their heaviest armed ships were there also ... no time was to be lost. Our Commodore soon brought-to one of their ships, manned and sent her off. Being to windward, he edged away and spoke to our Captain. We were at this time in pursuit of a large ship. The Commodore hauled his wind again and in the course of an hour we came up with the ship, which proved to be the Holderness, a three-decker mounting 22 guns. She struck, after we gave her several broadsides. Although she had more guns and those of heavier metal than ourselves, her crew was not sufficiently large to manage her guns and at the same time work the ship. She was loaded with cotton, coffee, sugar, rum, and allspice.
While we were employed in manning her, our Commodore captured another and gave her up to us to man also. When this was accomplished it was nearly night; we were, however, unwilling to abandon the opportunity of enriching ourselves, therefore kept along under easy sail.
Sometime during the night we found ourselves surrounded by ships and supposed we were discovered. We were close on board one of their largest armed ships and from the multitude of lights which had appeared, supposed that they had called to quarters. It being necessary to avoid their convoy, we fell to leeward and in an hour lost sight of them all. The next day the sky was overcast and at times we had a thick fog. In the afternoon the sun shone for a short time and enabled us to see a numerous fleet a few miles to windward, in such compact order that we thought it best not to approach them. We were however in hopes that we might pick up some single ship. We knew nothing of our consorts, but were entirely alone.
On the third morning we gained sight of three ships, to which we gave chase and called all hands to quarters. When they discovered us in chase, they huddled together, intending as we supposed to fight us. They however soon made sail and ran from us; after a short lapse of time we overhauled and took one of them, which we soon found to be a dull sailer. Another, while we were manning our prize, attempted to escape, but we soon found that we gained upon her.
While in chase a circumstance occurred which excited some alarm. Two large ships hove in sight to windward running directly for us under a press of sail. One of them shaped her course for the prize we had just manned. We were unwilling to give up our chase, as we had ascertained from our prize that the two other ships were . . . unarmed. We soon came up with the hindmost, brought her to and ordered her to keep under our stern, while we might pursue the other, as our situation was too critical to allow us to heave to and get out our boat.
The stranger in chase of us was under English colors; we however soon ascertained by her signal that she was the Providence frigate, on board of which was our commander. This joyful intelligence relieved us of all fear of the enemy and soon we came up with our chase. ... We now ascertained that the strange ship which was m chase of our first prize was another of our consorts, the Queen of France.
In all, we had taken ten prizes, two of which were retaken. The Ranger made but a short stop at Boston (a month later), for most of our officers and crew belonged to Portsmouth and its vicinity. The cargoes of our prizes being divided among our crews, my share was about one ton of sugar, from 30 to 40 gallons of fourth proof Jamaica rum, about 20 pounds of cotton and about the same quantity of ginger, logwood, and allspice, and about $700 in paper money equal to $100 in specie.
According to some historical references, the engagement took place from July 15 to 17, although a letter in Whipple’s handwriting, written ten years later, places the exploit as having begun on July 24. Among the collection of manuscripts in Harvard College Library, original and copied, collected by Jared Sparks, is a letter from Abraham Whipple to John Nevil of Pittsburgh. This letter is dated Marietta (Ohio), November 8, 1795, and asks Mr. Nevil’s services in helping him obtain some command in the United States Navy. Accompanying this 1-page letter is a 7- page letter, evidently enclosed with the former, dated Providence, June 15, 1789. It is apparently in the handwriting of Abraham Whipple, who signs it as follows: “A true copy of a memorial to Congress, dated Providence, Rhode Island, June 15, 1789.” It contains an account of Whipple’s services. There is therein a most modest mention of the capture of the ten vessels of the Jamaica Fleet as follows:
The 9th of March, 1779,1 received orders from the Navy Board from the Eastern Department to cruise in Boston Bay for the safety of the navigation, and in quest of the enemy’s cruisers and returned the 4th of April following. There lay until the 23rd of June when I again received orders from the same Board to proceed on a cruise with the Ranger and Queen of France under my command. On the 24th of July we fell in with and followed the Jamaica Fleet and by various maneuverings took ten of them, having on board six hhgs of sugar and rum, besides ginger, pimento and cotton. Eight of these prizes (mounting 118 guns) we carried into Boston.
(Spelling and capitals of original not followed).
In the Boston Gazette and Country Journal for August 23, 1779, the following item appeared:
Last Saturday noon this Town was alarmed by the Appearance of Seven Topsail Vessels in the Offing, which, however, soon subsided, for between the Hours of Three and Five in the Afternoon were safe anchored in this Harbour, the Continental Ships of war Providence, Queen of France, and Ranger, with Four Prize Ships laden with Rum and Sugar, being Part of a Jamaica Fleet bound to London, captured by the above Vessels; one Prize Ship taken by them, arrived here the beginning of last week; and another at Cape-Ann last Thursday, laden with the same Commodities; Four others of the above Fleet taken by them are hourly expected. They were under Convoy of a 32-gun frigate, one of 28, and two of 20 guns—several of the fleet were letters of marque.
In the Boston Independent Chronicle and Universal Advertiser for August 26, 1^79, the following is printed:
Saturday last arrived here the Continental frigates Providence, Queen of France, and Ranger; during their cruise they fell in with a Jamaica fleet of upwards of 100 sail, under the convoy of several frigates. . . . This favorable opportunity they improved as well as circumstances would admit. . . . They picked out 9 ships and one brig deeply laden with rum, sugar, etc., 7 of which arrived here and one into Cape-Ann.
Those ships captured by this remarkable tour de force were of the 700-800 ton class, and the eight which arrived were named, respectively, Holderness, Dawes, George, Friendship, Blenheim, Thetis, Fort William, and Neptune.
Winsor, in his ambitious History of America, observes with optimism: “Their cargoes were sold for more than a million dollars, and the bold venture is spoken of as the most successful pecuniary enterprise of the war.” Without wishing to question this probably true evaluation of the prizes, I desire merely to observe in passing the somewhat similar feat of Captain John Barry when, in 1781, he carried into L’Orient four Jamaicamen with rich cargoes that sold for a reputed £620,610. Paullin, the eminent naval historian, remarks: “ . . . the largest sum realized on any cruise of the Revolution.” Other records show that Barry, commanding the Alliance, 32 guns, captured the Mars and Minerva on April 2, 1781, and the Atlanta and Trepassey on May 29, 1781, at which time he was in foreign waters. Regardless of which cruise brought the more wealth to a parched and panting cause, the fact remains that Barry received the accolade of a conquering hero and Whipple remains even now an unknown.
Above and beyond his share of the prize money and cargoes, Commodore Whipple received a communication, dated September 19, 1779, from the Marine Committee of the Continental Congress in Philadelphia congratulating him on the success of his cruise in the Providence, and urging the speedy preparation of that vessel for another cruise!
But Whipple’s star had now passed its zenith. In 1780 he was sent under orders to the relief of Charleston, S. C., which was besieged by the British. There is some doubt as to what actually occurred in the counsel and conduct of this gallant officer, and at least one account charges him with having been so intimidated that he advised scuttling his ships on the mud flats back of Charleston rather than waging a losing fight against overwhelming odds in the bay. Whatever the preliminaries, the Providence, Queen of France, and Ranger were struck to the British under Sir George Collier. Commodore Whipple was taken and he with his officers confined until the close of the war, when the Continental Navy passed out of existence.
Back in Rhode Island, Whipple existed for a time on his farm, meanwhile hoping that a reluctant Congress would disburse back pay with which he could discharge his debts. In 1784 he went on a commercial cruise to England, hoping thereby to raise money, but all he raised was the first American flag after the signing of the peace treaty between England and the United States.
The Commodore became a member of the first Rhode Island legislature, under her statehood, but his finances were going from bad to worse and he was actually in straitened circumstances. Like many of those who had taken part in the battles of the Revolution, he had thereby been reduced to penury and want. In a pitiful petition to Congress he states his case:
Having exhausted the means of supporting myself and family, I was reduced to the sad necessity of mortgaging my little farm, the remnant I had left, to obtain money for temporary support. The farm is now gone, and, having been sued out of possession, I am turned into the world at an advanced age, feeble and valetudinary, with my wife and children destitute of a house or home that I can call my own, or have the means of hiring.
This calamity has risen from two causes, viz.: First, from my disbursing large sums in France and Charleston. In the former, I expended in the services of the United States to the amount of 360 French guineas—a large part of that sum was appropriated to the pay of marines, the other part for sea stores to accommodate a number of gentlemen passengers sent on board by the commissioners to take passage for America, and for which I have never been recompensed; and secondly, my having served the United States from June 15, 1775, to December 1782, without receiving a farthing of wages or subsistence since December 1776.
My advances amount in the whole to nearly $7,000 specie, exclusive of interest. The repayment of this, or a part of it, might be a happy means of regaining the farm I have been obliged to give up, and snatch my family from misery and ruin.
It is estimated that the whole amount due the Commodore from the United States was about $16,000, for which sum he was given securities in final settlement. However, since he was forced to sell these at 80 per cent discount he was enabled merely to regain his farm.
In 1788, Abraham Whipple and his wife Sarah (Hopkins) moved to Marietta, Ohio, living during the Indian War in the Block House in quarters with their son-in-law, Colonel Ebenezer Sproat, land agent of the Ohio Company. Whipple owned shares in the company and real estate near the town, and in 1796 the family moved to a 12-acre farm near Unionville, eking out a miserable existence. In 1811, Commodore Whipple was forced to apply to Congress for a pension, whereupon he was allowed half-pay of a captain, which was then $60 per month. On this sum the family existed for the remainder of the old sailor’s life.
After living in the Marietta region for 31 years, the Commodore died on May 19, 1819, having been a potent factor in the establishment of a great, thriving nation. In the old Mound Cemetery in Marietta (where lie more Revolutionary officers than in any other place) his bones were laid to rest, their only encomium being a tombstone placed over them years later by Nahum Ward and carrying this inscription:
Sacred
to the memory of
Commodore Abraham Whipple
whose name, skill and courage
will ever remain the pride and
boast of his country.
In the late Revolution, he was the first on the seas to hurl defiance at proud Britain, gallantly leading the way to wrest from the mistress of the ocean her sceptre, and there to wave the Star Spangled Banner. He also conducted to the sea the first square rigged vessel ever built on the Ohio opening to commerce resources beyond calculation.
A half year before the death of this great sea hero, his wife had died and the illustrious achievements of the Revolutionary commander faded in the memory of his countrymen. Only on the stone marking his grave and in isolated history pages is the glory of the Navy’s forgotten warrior perpetuated for posterity.