Recruiting with Music: “Come all you young fellows…”

Technically, although privateer vessels were neither owned nor manned by the state, they had to get authorization from the government before starting to attack enemy ships. (This was one of the things that distinguished them from pirates.) For example, a privateer sloop called the Montgomery — presumably named after General Richard Montgomery who was killed in the attack on Quebec — applied for and received such authorization from the Rhode Island governor on August 8, 1776.

But while getting the proper paperwork, Captain William Rhodes and the other owners of the Montgomery were also busy gathering a crew. Privateers and other warships had to have bigger crews than commercial vessels — partly to man the guns, and partly to take charge of any ships they might capture — so recruiting was important. In the Montgomery’s case, somebody went so far as to even write a recruiting song (with some atrocious spelling, most of which I’ve corrected here for the sake of clarity):

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Dr. Benjamin Church: First American to Spy for the British

“I think it best to introduce Mr. Maxwell to General Washington,” wrote Henry Ward to General Nathanael Greene, “and for you and the General, with not more than one trusty person besides, to consider as to the most prudent measures to discover the traitor.” This was the first hint that George Washington and his fellow officers had of a high-ranking spy in their midst.

Dr. Benjamin Church, a prominent revolutionary, was arrested as a spy in September 1775.

The detection of the spy happened largely by accident. A baker named Godfrey Wainwood, living in Newport, Rhode Island, had received a visit from an acquaintance of his, a young woman from Massachusetts. She wanted his help to deliver a letter to a British official who could send it into Boston (then besieged by American troops) by ship. Wainwood thought this a bit odd, but he agreed to help. She left the letter with him, trusting that he would deliver it soon, and went back to Cambridge, Massachusetts.

That was in late July 1775. Wainwood was suspicious that somebody at Cambridge — the American army headquarters — might be acting as a spy and trying to secretly send information to the British army in Boston. But if the letter had been written by a spy, what should he do about it? Who should he tell?

Weeks went by. Unsure what to do, Wainwood simply kept the letter. After a while, in need of advice, he turned to a schoolteacher named Adam Maxwell. Together they decided to open the letter, and found that it was written in code, which increased their suspicions. When the woman wrote to Wainwood, expressing uneasiness that he might not have delivered the letter, they decided to share their suspicions with Henry Ward, secretary of Rhode Island.

So it was that Ward wrote to General Greene in late September, urging him to “discover the traitor.” Greene immediately told Washington, and the molehunt began. The woman, “a suttle, shrewd Jade,” was arrested; after a night of being in custody and a great deal of questioning, she finally admitted that Doctor Benjamin Church had written the letter and given it to her to take to Newport.

That was enough to rock the world of the American revolutionaries. Dr. Church had seemed to be an outstanding patriot for years. He was a member of the Massachusetts House of Representatives and the Committee of Safety, and he was currently serving as director of the American army hospitals. But on 29 September 1775, after the woman (who was Church’s mistress) had confessed, he was arrested and the detective work began.

Three people — Samuel West, Elisha Porter, and Elbridge Gerry — went to work on the letter. As they deciphered it, they learned what Church had been trying to communicate to the British in Boston:

I hope this will reach you—three Attempts have I made without Success in effecting the last the Man was discovered in attempting his Escape, but fortunately my Letter was sewed in the Waisband of his Breeches…. for the Sake of the miserable convulsed Empire solicit Peace, repeal the Acts, or Britain is undone. this Advice is the Result of warm Affection to my King & to the Realm. … A View to Independance gr[ows] more & more General—should Britain declare War against the Colonies they are lost forever. … I wish you could contrive to write me largely in Cypher by the Way of New Port…. make Use of every Precaution or I Perish.

Church admitted that he had written and sent the letter, which was intended for his brother-in-law, John Fleming, “a warm stickler for the Honour, Dignity & Power of Britain”, in Boston. But he still claimed that he wasn’t a traitor: the letter, he said, intentionally exaggerated American military strength; by feeding this information to Fleming (and, through him, to the British commanders), Church was trying to influence the British to give up the war and make a peaceful compromise with the colonists’ demands — or so he said.

It was hard to absolutely prove that Church was a spy, but a council of war and the Massachusetts House of Representatives both pronounced him guilty — and they were right. However, the Articles of War — the regulations established by the Continental Congress for the American army — didn’t provide a severe enough punishment for the kind of crime he had committed, and nobody was quite sure what to do with him. After being imprisoned for a couple of years, Church was finally allowed to leave the country in January 1778. He sailed for the West Indies, but the ship he sailed on was lost at sea.

For another example of Church’s espionage activities, see Spy Letters of the American Revolution.

A Continental Fast

In the Olive Branch Petition, the Continental Congress appealed to King George III to defend their rights and help stop the war. But even before doing that, they decided to appeal to a higher King.

“We have appointed a continental Fast,” wrote John Adams to his wife, Abigail, on June 17, 1775. “Millions will be upon their Knees at once before their great Creator, imploring his Forgiveness and Blessing, his Smiles on American Councils and Arms.” The “day of public humiliation [i.e., publicly humbling oneself before God], fasting and prayer” was set for Thursday, July 20, and the Continental Congress issued a proclamation urging everyone in the American colonies to observe it. The proclamation said that the objective of the fast was

…that we may, with united hearts and voices, unfeignedly confess and deplore our many sins; and offer up our joint supplications to the all-wise, omnipotent, and merciful Disposer of all events; humbly beseeching him to forgive our iniquities, to remove our present calamities, to avert those desolating judgments, with which we are threatned, and to bless our rightful sovereign, King George the third, and inspire him with wisdom to discern and pursue the true interest of all his subjects, that a speedy end may be put to the civil discord between Great Britain and the American colonies, without farther effusion of blood: And that the British nation may be influenced to regard the things that belong to her peace, before they are hid from her eyes: That these colonies may be ever under the care and protection of a kind Providence, and be prospered in all their interests; That the divine blessing may descend and rest upon all our civil rulers, and upon the representatives of the people, in their several assemblies and conventions, that they may be directed to wise and effectual measures for preserving the union, and securing the just rights and priviledges of the colonies; That virtue and true religion may revive and flourish throughout our land; And that all America may soon behold a gracious interposition of Heaven, for the redress of her many grievances, the restoration of her invaded rights, a reconciliation with the parent state, on terms constitutional and honorable to both; And that her civil and religious priviledges may be secured to the latest posterity.

The fast was indeed observed with “strictness and devotion” in many places throughout the colonies. In Newport, Rhode Island, the Reverend Ezra Stiles (who later became president of Yale College) addressed “the most crouded Assembly that I ever preached to in my Meetinghouse.” His sermon was based on 2 Chronicles 20, which tells of how God protected the ancient Jews from their enemies in response to their prayers and fasting. Also in Newport, Rabbi Samuel Cohen “of the holy Land” preached to his congregation, using Numbers 25:11-12 as his text. (Incidentally, the synagogue in Newport is the oldest one in America.)

But not everybody was as enthusiastic as Reverend Stiles or Rabbi Cohen. Some pastors and priests refused to take part in the fast: some of them said it was against their personal convictions; others (particularly those of the Church of England) said they might lose their jobs if they participated. But as it turned out, some of them lost their jobs for not participating.

In our day, when the phrase “separation of church and state” is often taken to mean that religion has little or no place in public life, it may seem strange to us that a congress would tell people to turn to God for help in a time of national crisis. But this was a common practice both during and after the Revolution — and even after the U.S. Constitution was adopted (which, incidentally, sheds some light on what the people who wrote the Constitution thought “separation of church and state” meant).


Sources

John Adams to Abigail Adams, 11 June 1775

Journals of the Continental Congress, vol. 2, 87-8

Literary Diary of Ezra Stiles, vol. 1, 590-1