A Sailor's History of the U.S. Navy

by Thomas J. Cutler

  On 13 October, six days after the initial strike, Big E’s crew paused briefly to celebrate the U.S. Navy’s birthday. As they shared ice cream and cake especially prepared for the occasion, the ship’s captain told the crew: “Two hundred and twenty-six years ago we were fighting the British for our freedom. Today it’s the same thing. We’re fighting for freedom from terrorism.”

  When the captain spoke of the struggle for freedom 226 years earlier, he might also have told the Big E’s crew that the Enterprise had been there too. Obviously, she was not the nuclear-powered giant that had struck at Afghanistan. She was the first of eight American naval ships to carry that name. She was involved in the first American naval attack in history and would subsequently play a role in one of the most strategically important battles of the American Revolution.

  First Blood

  When the American colonies revolted against royal authority in 1775, Great Britain had a tremendous advantage over its rebellious subjects because the Royal Navy was the most powerful in the world. This was particularly significant because travel along the eastern seaboard of America, from New England to the South, was easier by sea than by land. Relatively few bridges spanned the many rivers that flowed through the colonies, making it much easier for troops to be moved from place to place by ship than by road.

  The Americans, by contrast, had no navy at all. George Washington, Commander in Chief of the American Army, and John Adams, one of the more influential members of the Continental Congress, were among those who recognized the importance of having a navy, but it would be some time before the Americans could put together even a small naval capability. In May 1775, however, not even a month after the first shots of the Revolution had been fired at Lexington and Concord, a series of events began that would bring about two significant naval engagements that would have far-reaching effects.

  Both the American colonists and their British adversaries recognized the importance of the string of waterways in the wilderness north of New York City that led down from Canada into the very heart of the rebellious American colonies. From the St. Lawrence River in Canada, a natural invasion route followed the Richelieu River, Lake Champlain, Lake George, and the Hudson River. If the British could control this water highway, they could effectively cut off the New England colonies from the rest, making their ultimate subjugation a much simpler matter.

  Recognizing this strategic vulnerability, an American force led by Colonel Ethan Allen and Colonel Benedict Arnold captured Fort Ticonderoga at the southern end of Lake Champlain. Arnold, who would later become infamous for betraying the American cause, was, in the early days of the Revolution, one of the ablest of American commanders. The capture of the British fort was significant because it not only blocked a British invasion from the north but also provided much-needed cannon and gunpowder that would be used in the siege of Boston.

  Learning that the British had a ten-gun sloop of war named George at a place called St. Johns at the northern end of the lake, Arnold feared that this vessel—the largest on the lake—could bring down enough Redcoats to recapture Ticonderoga. Therefore, he decided that the best way to prevent this would be to capture the British sloop.

  Although a colonel in the newly formed Continental Army, Benedict Arnold had spent much of his earlier life at sea and was a capable mariner. He devised a plan and sent some of his men farther south to Skenesboro to bring back a small schooner named Katherine. Arnold later wrote that upon the little schooner’s arrival, “We immediately fixed her with four carriage guns and six swivel guns.” The Americans then cut gun ports in her sides and practiced running the carriage guns out with block and tackle rigs until they were proficient. They renamed the small warship Liberty and, along with two thirty-three-foot boats armed with swivel guns along their gunwales and one larger gun in the bow, the Americans got under way and headed north.

  It took several days of variable winds for the small naval force to travel the length of Lake Champlain. When they dropped anchor near Point au Fer at the Canadian frontier, the wind vanished and the surface of the lake shone like a polished mirror. A scout took a canoe and headed down the Richelieu River to infiltrate the British lines and reconnoiter St. Johns. By nightfall, he was back and reported that the sloop George was indeed there, moored at the wharf. He also brought news that Arnold had been correct to worry about a British counterattack—hundreds of Redcoat reinforcements were on their way to St. Johns from Montreal with plans to sail south in the sloop and retake Fort Ticonderoga. There was little time to act.

  Deciding that they could not afford to wait for a favorable wind, Arnold decided to use the small boats to row downriver for the attack. Leaving fifteen men behind to guard the becalmed Liberty, the other thirty-five climbed into the two small boats and rowed all night, arriving before dawn at a point half a mile upriver from St. Johns. Pulling into a small creek, the men waited while another scout went ahead to see if the British had detected their coming or if the reinforcements had arrived from Montreal, either of which would have doomed the mission. The men sat quietly in their boats, resting their aching muscles and fighting off the effects of fatigue, with swarms of gnats and mosquitoes adding to their misery. The sun had risen by the time the scout returned with the happy news that the Redcoats seemed unaware of their presence and that the reinforcements had not yet arrived.

  The Americans lost no time in mounting the attack. The small naval force headed downstream and landed about one hundred yards from the British barracks. The surprise attack was a complete success; without firing a shot, the Americans overwhelmed the troops in the barracks. They moved on to George and swarmed over the sides of the British ship. The unsuspecting crew was rudely awakened by the sound of musket butts pounding on doors and hatch covers, and they quickly surrendered.

  Interrogating the prisoners, the Americans learned that the reinforcements were expected at any time. For two hours they loaded guns, powder, blankets, food, rum, and two brass cannon into the captured sloop; sank five boats they had to leave behind; and then got under way with four small British gunboats added to their force. The wind had picked up, and soon the captured sloop and her six escorts emerged from the Richelieu and rejoined Liberty on Lake Champlain.

  The audacious American capture of the British sloop prevented the planned British counterattack. It would be more than a year before the British would attempt to come south over the waterways guarded by Fort Ticonderoga.

  As the small armada of eight vessels headed south along Lake Champlain, Arnold removed the name George from the sloop’s stern and replaced it with a new, more appropriate name: Enterprise.

  Valcour Island

  In the aftermath of the capture of George—now Enterprise—the Americans were emboldened to strike into Canada, capturing and holding Montreal for a time and unsuccessfully attacking Quebec on New Year’s Eve 1775. After their defeat at Quebec, they were forced to abandon their position in Montreal in the face of a growing British force and fell back to Lake Champlain, where they began to prepare for a British thrust south. What followed would be remembered as the Battle of Valcour Island, one of the most significant battles of the American Revolution.

  Intent upon taking control of the Richelieu-Champlain-George-Hudson waterways to separate New England from the rest of the colonies—in effect “cutting off the head of the rebellion,” as one British commander described it—Major General Sir Guy Carleton moved his Redcoats down from Canada along the Richelieu River. Arriving at St. Johns near the northern end of Lake Champlain, the British commander received word that the Americans not only had Liberty and Enterprise down at the south end of the lake but also were building more vessels at Skenesboro. Determined that he must have control of the lake before moving his troops farther south, the cautious Carleton decided to put together his own “fleet” before proceeding.

  Gradually, the British assembled a strange but effective mixture of vessels, some of which were built from scratch, while others were disassembled, moved i
n pieces to St. Johns, and then reassembled. It would be the first inland fleet for the Royal Navy.

  Embarked in Enterprise, Arnold had arrived at Skenesboro in July and begun organizing the American shipbuilding effort. Dividing those men with at least some useful skills into crews of twenty-five, he tasked each group with building a ship. He sent five hundred more men into the forest to cut down trees and drag them out using oxen, and another hundred worked in shifts to keep the sawmills running.

  While the British had experienced sailors, carpenters, and blacksmiths at St. Johns, the Americans at Skenesboro had far less expertise to draw upon as they set about building their fleet. Most of these men had signed on to be soldiers, not sailors; but the circumstances were such that only a naval force could stop or at least slow the British advance that now threatened an early end to the Revolution.

  In remembering great moments in history, such as key battles like the one that was about to occur, most of us remember—as well we should—the courage of those who face the terrors of combat and somehow prevail. But we should also remember that countless others give of themselves in other ways—less glamorous, but no less vital. Such was the case in the days preceding the Battle of Valcour Island. Not only would many brave men eventually face a formidable enemy, many others would also labor through the summer of 1776, building vessels from scratch and preparing for the critical battle that was to come.

  Sweltering in the summer heat, and losing many of their number to the ravages of smallpox, the Americans set about the task, their determination offsetting their lack of equipment, materials, and skills. The many miles of rope needed to rig vessels of the time and the oakum needed to waterproof the hulls were in very short supply and had to be brought great distances. Because the British had long maintained restrictions on the American iron industry, nails were also hard to come by. The story of how the supplies, manpower, and technical expertise were all assembled is beyond the scope of this telling, but it was a gargantuan task; its accomplishment, under the able leadership of Benedict Arnold, makes his later defection all the more tragic.

  By the time the leaves on the trees had changed to various shades of gold and red, the American fleet consisted of sixteen ships. The smallest vessels were the so-called gondolas, built low to the water to make them difficult targets and armed with one 12-pound gun in the bow, a pair of 9-pounders amidships, and several swivel guns. The latter were rigged like large shotguns to fire grapeshot, effective at destroying enemy rigging as well as serving as a lethal antipersonnel weapon. These eight gondolas were named Spitfire, Philadelphia, Boston, Providence, New Haven, Connecticut, New York, and New Jersey. Four galleys, powered by oars and armed with an array of cannon ranging from 6-pounders up to 18-pounders, were christened Congress, Lee, Trumbull, and Washington. The largest vessels were the schooners Royal Savage, Revenge, and Liberty and the sloop Enterprise, each carrying various combinations of cannon ranging from 2- to 6-pounders. All totaled, the little fleet could fire about 600 pounds of shot, which seemed quite potent until compared with the British total of 1,100 pounds.

  The American fleet, as ready as it ever was going to be, got under way and headed north in the face of an early winter. Taking station part way up the lake, the men were soon sleeping on the open decks, snow falling on their shivering bodies and gale winds frequently buffeting the little fleet. As September drew to a close, the storms worsened, and Arnold decided to move around to the relative shelter provided by the kidney-shaped Valcour Island on the western side of the lake. While there, sheltering from the wind, Arnold made his plans.

  The gondola Philadelphia. These craft were built low to the water to make them difficult targets to hit. This one, which sank after the Battle of Valcour Island in 1776, was raised from the bottom of Lake Champlain in 1935 and is now on display at the Smithsonian Institution’s National Museum of American History in Washington, D.C. U.S. Naval Institute Photo Archive

  If the Americans confronted the British as they came south along the lake with the north wind at their backs, the Redcoats would have what was known as the weather gage, a decided advantage when trying to maneuver sailing vessels, particularly those rigged with square sails. By remaining hidden there in Valcour Bay, however, the Americans could wait until the British had passed by, thereby gaining the upwind advantage over their adversaries. If successful, the British would have to beat against the wind to get at the Americans. For camouflage, the Americans cut spruce trees and rigged them along the sides of their vessels, not only making them more difficult to see but also providing some protection against small arms fire. They anchored the vessels stem to stern in a gradual crescent formation across the waterway formed between the island and the western shore. Vessels coming into the bay would thus be forced to come one or two at a time through the narrow channel and would be subject to the full force of American firepower.

  Coming from the north was an enemy force of nine thousand men in more than six hundred ships and boats, ranging from Indian canoes to the Inflexible, a square-rigged ship armed with a powerful battery of eighteen 12-pounder cannons. Among these many vessels were several well-armed sailing schooners, twenty-seven smaller gunboats carrying heavy brass field pieces in their bows, and twenty armed longboats. The Redcoats also created a very large raftlike vessel that was by far the most heavily armed in either fleet. Armed with six cannon that fired 24-pound balls, six 12-pounders, and two large siege howitzers, she was appropriately named Thunderer. To make her even more formidable, she had an onboard furnace to heat cannonballs until they were red hot, all the better to set wooden ships on fire.

  The British fleet sailed past Valcour Island without spotting the Americans. Once the bulk of the force was well south—downwind—of the island, several American vessels came out of the bay to lure the British into the trap. Royal Savage and Enterprise ran ahead of three of the American galleys, racing toward the British force with their newly created battle flags held taut in the steady wind.

  Once the Americans were sure they had been spotted, the decoys turned and headed back toward Valcour Bay. Several of the British ships gave chase, Inflexible in hot pursuit of Royal Savage, and the schooner Carleton chasing Enterprise. The British flagship Maria followed close behind.

  Enterprise successfully led her pursuer into the bay. As the British schooner closed on the American ship, Arnold’s crescent formation loomed ahead. The British barely had time to realize what they were seeing when the line of American vessels disappeared behind a great cloud of white smoke. A great rumble rolled across the water as geysers erupted from the water close aboard the British ship. The American trap had been sprung.

  Royal Savage proved less elusive than Enterprise. Inflexible began firing heavy broadsides as she pursued the American schooner, her first salvo including cannonballs connected by a length of chain that tore into the target’s rigging just as it was designed to do. A second salvo sent a heavy shot slamming into the hapless vessel’s mainmast, and further broadsides began chewing her to bits. Royal Savage was no match for the much larger Inflexible; under the relentless barrage, she ran onto the shallow bar near the entrance to Valcour Bay, and her crew began abandoning ship.

  British gunboats began pouring into the bay, and the firing from both sides intensified. The battle became, in the words of a German soldier fighting on the British side, “very fierce.” The British flagship Maria neared the crescent line, and the American flagship Congress opened fire. A cannonball passed between Major General Sir Guy Carleton and his brother Thomas; the latter was seriously injured by the concussion of the near miss, and General Carleton appeared to be stunned as well. The captain of the Maria, apparently concerned for the safety of the British commander, ordered his ship to withdraw, taking the flagship out of the battle.

  The schooner Carleton, having been lured into the American trap by Enterprise, had sailed headlong into the crossfire from the crescent line. From her angle of approach, she was unable to bring her twelve guns to bear. M
urderous American fire raked the schooner, heavy shot holing her hull in several places, grapeshot spraying her decks. A cannonball grazed the head of Carleton’s captain, knocking him unconscious, while another shot tore off the first mate’s arm. Relentlessly, the Americans continued to hammer away at the ship as she began to fill with water and list heavily to one side. She would no doubt have been lost had it not been for two longboats that braved the heavy fire to take her under tow and row her out of the range of the American guns.

  As the battle wore on, the crews on the American vessels served their guns well, sustaining a high rate of fire that proved effective. Firing, clearing, loading, and firing again, time after time, was a laborious business made all the more difficult as the British gunboats began to get the range and score hits. Eyes burning from powder fumes peered out from blackened faces to see more and more British gunboats pressing the attack. Shells crashed into the wooden hulls, crushing men under their weight, casting showers of lethal splinters about. Wounded men could receive little attention, and many died lingering deaths as they lay unattended. The dead were quickly thrown over the side. And still these men—who just a short while before had been merchants, farmers, fishermen, teachers, and all manner of things but soldiers or sailors—fought on.

  Liberty, Lee, and Washington were close enough to the western shore that they were exposed to small arms fire from British marines and their Indian allies who had landed there. Fortunately, the spruce screens added before the battle made this fire less effective than it might have been.

  The big bruiser Thunderer eventually arrived on the scene, but she was too cumbersome to work into the narrow confines of the battle, so she remained at long range ineffectively lobbing shells in the general direction of the American line.