“…declare the United Colonies free and independent states…” 250th of the Virginia Fifth Convention Resolution 

Virginia Capitol in Williamsburg,
March 2026

As the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia debated on next steps and the ultimate goal of the war with Great Britain, leaders in Virginia decided to push the needle. Virginia was the largest (population and economically wise) colony in the 13 rebellious colonies. Many of its leaders were seen as leaders in the Continental Congress and in revolutionary thought. Other colonial leaders, including John Adams, knew that for the war and independence to be successful, Virginia needed to be a leading participant in the effort.

The Fifth Virginia Convention, the extra-legal body running Virginia in the absence of Royal authority, met in the Virginia Capitol in Williamsburg on May 6, 1776. There was a lot to discuss among the members. The Convention consisted of more conservative planters from the eastern part of the colony. These members tended to favor reconciliation with the mother country. Other members of the convention, that supported a more radical response were from the western part of the colony (west of the fall line) and many of its legal and philosophical minds (George Mason, James Madison, George Wythe). These men, who held the majority of the Convention, favored independence and also held the hearts and minds of most Virginians.

The most significant action of the Fifth Convention came on May 15, 1776, adopting groundbreaking resolutions. First the Convention directed Virginia’s delegates to the Continental Congress to propose a formal declaration of independence, to “declare the United Colonies free and independent states…” This directive was the first official call from any colony for a complete break with Britain. It signaled that reconciliation was no longer the goal; independence had become both necessary and inevitable in the minds of Virginia’s revolutionary leaders.

The resolution went even further. It not only urged independence but also called for the establishment of foreign alliances and confederation among the colonies. These measures demonstrated a sophisticated understanding of what independence would require: diplomatic recognition, military support, and political unity. Virginia’s leadership recognized that separation from Britain would not be sustainable without these elements in place. Soon, on June 7, 1776 in Philadelphia, Virginian Richard Henry Lee took the direction from the Fifth Convention and proposed that the Continental Congress declare independence.

Secondly, the Convention called for constructing its own independent government, taking concrete steps to replace colonial rule with a republican system. This new constitution of the “Commonwealth of Virginia’ would set up the system for which Virginia would be governed. Finally, the convention appointed a committee to draft a declaration of rights. This effort reflected the belief that independence was not just about rejecting British authority but also about creating a new political order grounded in principles of liberty and self-government.

One of the most influential figures in this process was George Mason. Mason drafted the Virginia Declaration of Rights, a document that would become one of the most important statements of political philosophy in the revolutionary era. Adopted in June 1776, it asserted that all men are by nature equally free and possess inherent rights, including the enjoyment of life and liberty, the means of acquiring property, and the pursuit of happiness and safety. It also emphasized that government derives its power from the people and must be accountable to them.

Delegate James Madison wrote
townspeople in Williamsburg took
down the Union Jack and replaced it
with the Continental Union flag.

Another key figure connected to Virginia’s revolutionary leadership was Thomas Jefferson, who was serving in the Continental Congress. Although he was not present at the Virginia Convention in May, the instructions sent by Virginia directly influenced his work. When Congress appointed a committee to draft a declaration of independence, Jefferson drew heavily on ideas similar to those expressed in Mason’s document. The resulting United States Declaration of Independence, adopted in July, echoed Virginia’s emphasis on natural rights and the legitimacy of revolution against unjust government. The Convention also created a committee to design a state seal, this committee (led by George Wythe) adopted the seal of Virginia that is the basis for the seal used today.

Virginia’s actions in May 1776 also reflected broader social and political changes within the colony. The authority of the royal governor, Lord Dunmore, had effectively collapsed, and revolutionary institutions had taken control. Local committees and militias enforced the decisions of the convention, demonstrating that power had shifted from imperial officials to colonial leaders. This transition was not without conflict, but by May 1776, the revolutionary cause had gained widespread support among Virginia’s population. In the mind of Virginians, as of May 1776, Virginia was independent of the King and Parliament of Great Britain.

On June 12th, a follow up article will commemorate the 250th anniversary of the Virginia Declaration of Rights.

Rev War Revelry: “The American Revolution and the Fate of the World” by Dr. Richard Bell

Dr. Richard Bell, historian and professor of history at the University of Maryland, will discuss his new book, “The American Revolution and the Fate of the World.” Published by Penguin Random House, this “revelatory and enthralling book, award-winning historian Richard Bell reveals the full breadth and depth of America’s founding event. The American Revolution was not only the colonies’ triumphant liberation from the rule of an overbearing England; it was also a cataclysm that pulled in participants from around the globe and threw the entire world order into chaos.”

We look forward to you tuning in to this Sunday evening, 7 pm EDT on our Facebook page for this discussion with Dr. Bell!

The Second Generation of the Continental Navy: Warren

Penobscot Expedition by Dominic Serres, circa 1779. (Wikimedia Commons). Warren met her end in this American defeat.

On May 15, 1776, the Continental Navy frigate Warren-32 slid down the ways into the Providence River, the first purpose-built American frigate to taste water.  The local committee came up with fifty dollars to pay musicians and throw a party for the men who had worked on her.  Eight more followed her in the next few weeks: Providence-28 (Providence) on May 18, Raleigh-32 (Portsmouth) on May 21, Boston-24 (Newburyport) on June 3, Hancock-32 (Newburyport) in July, Delaware-24 and Randolph-32 (Philadelphia) a few weeks later, Virginia-28 (Baltimore) in August, and Trumbull-28 (Chatham) in September.[i]  They were far from finished.  Rigging, masts, equipment, guns, and crews were all still necessary to complete them. 

The colonies already had a navy, just back from a successful, if ill-considered, raid on the Bahamas, where it had seized cannon, shot, and other war materiel already making its way into the armed forces of the rebelling colonies.  But, the ships were all converted civilian vessels turned into ad hoc navy ships.  Some performed well; others were ill-suited to combat.  But, these new ships were designed for war, making May 15 a seminal moment in the history of the Continental Navy.  Thirteen colonies, which hadn’t declared their independence, were creating capabilities designed to take the fight to the mother country on the sea, where she was strongest.

The Continental Congress approved the creation of this second generation of naval vessels on December 13, 1775 after reviewing the report of a committee created specifically for the purpose.  It intended to build 13 ships: five of 32 guns, five of 28, and three of 24.  Congress was precise in the amount to be paid for these ships: 866,666 and 2/3 dollars for all of them, roughly 66,666 and 2/3 dollars each.  Due to the limitations of the American shipbuilding industry—no yard was large or capable enough to handle the entire order in a timely fashion—the Congress spread construction across seven colonies.  It also helped firm up political support for financing the fleet, a practice still evident today.  Each colony was to provide the materials for the hull and masts assigned to it, but Congress undertook to provide the canvas and gunpowder.[i]

Captain Esek Hopkins, Commander in Chief of the Continental Navy, transferred his flag to Warren in December 1776, an indicator that he was ready to go to sea.   Still, he struggled with recruitment and the Royal Navy blockading Narraganset Bay.  Hopkins might be ready, but Warren wasn’t.  It was more than a year before she finally reached open water in March 1778.  Warren took two prizes, but entered Boston harbor on March 23 after only two weeks at sea.  She sortied briefly again in the fall, and, a third time in company with two other vessels.  On this cruise, in the spring of 1779, she took seven of nine ships in a British convoy.  She put to sea a fourth time in July 1779 under the command of Captain Dudley Saltonstall, who was also leading an impressive American battle fleet to Penobscot Bay to eject a new British lodgment on the Bagaduce Peninsula.  The Penobscot expedition was the largest American amphibious operation of the war. Unfortunately, the campaign against the British unraveled within days of reacing the peninsula.  It wasn’t long before a superior British squadron arrived.  The American ships fled deeper into the bay.  Trapped eventually, their crews set them afire to keep them from falling into British hands.  It was the worst American naval defeat of the war and a sad ending for a frigate that had begun life with such promise in May, 1776.[1]   


[1]                 “Warren II (Frigate),” Naval History and Heritage Command.  Available at https://www.history.navy.mil/content/history/nhhc/research/histories/ship-histories/danfs/w/warren-ii.html.  Accessed April 13, 2026.


[i]                  “Journal of the Continental Congress, December 13, 1775,” William Bell Clark, ed., Naval Documents of the American Revolution, Volume 3 (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1967), 90.


[i]                  Nathan Miller, Sea of Glory: A Naval History of the American Revolution (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 1974), 209-210.  The celebration in Providence was held on May 18 after the Providence’s hull joined the Warren in the river.

A Naval Battle off Wilmington, DE: May 9, 1776

A Chart of the Delaware Bay and River, 1776 (LOC).

While the Americans recovered their strength and restocked their vessels upstream after the fighting on May 8, Hamond and his sailors worked to refloat the Roebuck.  With a higher tide and deeper water sometime between 2 and 4 am, Roebuck finally floated free.[i]  When the sun rose on Thursday the 9th fog blanketed the river and neither side could see one another.  The American ships were already on the move, though, falling back down the river under a light breeze and oars to reengage the British vessels, probably in the hope that Roebuck was still grounded.[ii]  In the fog, though, they paused to wait.

                  The mist finally burned off enough to see and around 8 o’clock that morning, Wallace and Liverpool spied the American galleys some two miles upriver.[iii]  Hamond made the signal to weigh anchor and pursue them upstream.  Even at full sail, though, the British couldn’t catch the Americans as “they industriously plied their Oars and Sails to avoid us.”[iv]  They eventually found a point of land on the western shore Hamond could not reach, particularly in the face of an ebbing tide.  Both sides anchored and waited.  The prospect of continuing to advance up the Delaware, which grew ever narrower and more shallow did not appeal to Hamond.  He and Captain Bellew held a quick conference and decided to drop back down the river, hoping to draw the galleys after them toward water more favorable to the British.

                  Around 2 pm, Hamond detected the Americans getting underway.  So, Roebuck and Liverpool raised their anchors and clapped on more sail, still hoping to entice them to chase the British into deeper water.  The small squadrons began exchanging long range fire around 4 pm, lasting through afternoon all while slowly moving down the Delaware.  The cannon were heavy enough to be heard in Philadelphia.[v]  The winds were generally moderate, but an occasional shower passed through.[vi]  As they had through most of the day, the Americans stuck to the shallows closer to shore.  Throughout, the two sides kept their distance.  The Americans were satisfied chasing the British away and Hamond could not tempt them into a close-in fight.  Finally, with darkness deepening, the firing ceased.  The Americans preferred not to descend below New Castle.

Continue reading “A Naval Battle off Wilmington, DE: May 9, 1776”

A Naval Battle off Wilmington, DE: May 8, 1776

Action off Mud Fort by William Elliott circa 1787 (Wikimedia Commons). This image portrays a subsequent battle in the Delaware in the Autumn of 1777, during the naval campaign to open the Delaware River. Roebuck was a major combatant in those engagements as well.

The beginning of May 1776 found Captain Andrew Snape Hamond of the Royal Navy’s Roebuck, a fifth rate of forty-four guns, operating off the Delaware capes.  His job was to control traffic in and out of the bay and maintain a de facto British blockade while seizing any supplies that might be of use to the rebel Americans and instead secure them for British forces.  On Saturday, May 4, Hamond began moving up the bay and into the Delaware river in company with Liverpool, 28 guns, the brig Betsey and several tenders.   He was short of water and needed to refill empty casks at a fresh source.  It was also an opportunity to take a look at rebel defenses on the critical waterway.[i]  The British enjoyed only light winds and cloudy skies as they sailed upstream for the next two days, periodically anchoring and frequently taking soundings to avoid the muddy shallows.  Operating at some distance, on May 6 the Liverpool spotted a grounded sloop and sent a boat to recover it.  But, it was stuck fast and Captain Henry Bellew’s crew burned the ship instead.[ii]

Between 6 and 7 am on Tuesday, May 7, Hamond signaled his little squadron to raise anchor and continue moving up the Delaware River in the direction of Wilmington.  Off New Castle, they spied an armed schooner and several boats and gave chase in the afternoon, just as the weather broke and began pelting the ships in strong winds and heavy rain.  The schooner ran for the shallows under fire from the British ships.  She grounded and Hamond sent boats to seize her around 3 pm.  Unable to refloat her, they settled on taking off her cargo: bread and flour.[iii]  At the end of a productive day, around 7 pm, Hamond anchored his ships near the Christina River and Wilmington.

Ashore, word spread quickly of Roebuck’s advance up the river.  At Dover on May 6, Colonel John Haslet of the Delaware Regiment received word that the British were off Port Penn in the area of Reedy’s Island and the local militia expected an attack.  The British were already upstream from Haslet.  As Roebuck alternately sailed and anchored, the troops ashore had time to assemble, although they were often chasing dated intelligence about the British position.  One hundred thirty men assembled in Cantwells Bridge about 4 am on the 7th, but by then Roebuck had already moved up to New Castle.[iv]  Word of the British anchoring off New Castle reached Philadelphia in the afternoon, about the same time that American gondolas at Fort Island left to drop down the river and attack the British at their anchorage.  Robert Morris, Vice President of the Continental Congress Marine Committee, ordered Continental Navy Captain John Barry to assemble as many Continental Navy crew as possible and dispatch them to the Pennsylvania ship Reprisal and a floating battery, which were both also to drop down the river and join in the attack on the British.[v]  Men from Captain Proctor’s Company of Artillery in the fort even joined the slapdash crews, serving aboard the American vessel Hornet.[vi]  It was an all hands moment for Philadelphia’s naval defenders.

Continue reading “A Naval Battle off Wilmington, DE: May 8, 1776”

Before July 1776, There Was Rhode Island

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Bjorn Bruckshaw

By the spring of 1776, the people of Rhode Island no longer needed to speculate about their relationship with Great Britain—they were already living in open resistance to it. War had begun the previous year, British naval power remained a constant threat along the coast, and the colony’s long history of defiance toward imperial authority had already brought confrontation to its shores. The destruction of His Majesty’s schooner Gaspee in 1772 had marked a decisive escalation, transforming protest into direct action against the Crown.¹ Now, as members of the Rhode Island General Assembly made their way to Providence in early May 1776, they did so with the reality of war firmly in mind. The question before them was no longer whether they opposed British authority, but whether that authority could continue to exist at all within their government.

Rhode Island Independence Document

Inside the Assembly chamber on May 4, 1776, that question was answered with clarity and finality. Without issuing a sweeping declaration or engaging in extended philosophical argument, the legislature passed an act that removed King George III from every function of governance within the colony. The law ordered that “in all commissions, writs, and other proceedings in the courts of law,” the name and authority of the king be omitted.² In their place stood the authority of the colony itself. The act further directed that royal authority was to be “totally suppressed.”³ Courts would continue to function, but under a new source of legitimacy. Officials would take new oaths. The government would proceed without reference to the Crown. Rhode Island did not simply declare independence—it enacted it.

This action did not emerge suddenly. For years, Rhode Island had been among the most resistant of the colonies to British imperial control, particularly in matters of trade and enforcement. British officials repeatedly complained of the colony’s defiance, noting the difficulty of imposing authority in a place where regulations were often ignored.⁴ That resistance became unmistakable with the Gaspee affair, and the Crown’s response—threatening to transport suspects to England for trial—provoked widespread alarm. Colonial critics warned that such measures would undermine “that great bulwark of English liberty,” the right to trial by a local jury.⁵ By the time hostilities began in 1775, many Rhode Islanders had already concluded that reconciliation with Britain was increasingly unlikely.

That understanding was reflected not only in legislative action, but in the colonial press. The Providence Gazette soon reported the Assembly’s proceedings, noting that the legislature had taken measures removing the authority of the Crown from government functions, a step consistent with the colony’s wartime posture and political condition.⁶ While not framed in celebratory or rhetorical language, the report treated the change as a matter of governance already in motion. Similarly, the Newport Mercury, writing amid growing military uncertainty, reflected a broader shift in tone, reporting colonial affairs in a way that assumed the imperial relationship was breaking down beyond repair.⁷

These accounts are significant not because they proclaim Rhode Island’s primacy, but because they demonstrate how independence was understood in real time—not as a single dramatic declaration, but as a series of actions already unfolding.

Continue reading “Before July 1776, There Was Rhode Island”

Thoughts on “Thoughts on Government”

For weeks, colleagues in the Continental Congress had been asking John Adams for advice. If the colonies were to break away from Great Britain and established governments of their own, what should those governments look like?

The first request came from North Carolinians William Hooper and John Penn in late March. The duo had been recalled from Philadelphia so they could join in conversations about a new government for their home state. Before departing, they each asked Adams for his thoughts. Adams “wrote with his own Hand, a Sketch,” and gave copies to both delegates.[1] The ensuing discussions in North Carolina led to the April 12, 1776 passage of the Halifax Resolves, which authorized the colony’s Congressional delegation to vote in favor of independence—the first colony to formally grant such authorization. 

Next came a request from George Wythe of Virginia and then one from John Dickinson Sergeant of New Jersey. Finally, Richard Henry Lee of Virginia asked for a copy.

Adams had already given the topic considerable thought. He had touched on it in early 1775 in a series of newspaper articles that he’d signed “Novanglus,” and during a trip home in late 1775, he had addressed it for the Massachusetts colonial assembly. “The Happiness of the People is the sole End of Government, so the Consent of the People is the only Foundation of it,” he had written.[2] “Happiness,” in Adams’s vocabulary, meant “ease, comfort, security.”[3]

As Adams sketched out his ideas for his colleagues, he took the same approach, and each letter allowed him to develop and refine his ideas even further. By the time he wrote out his thoughts for Wythe, those ideas had become so clear and well articulated that the impressed Lee asked if he could have the letter published. Adams agreed. Using Wythe’s letter as the basis, Lee threw it into shape and “put it under the Types.”[4]

Continue reading “Thoughts on “Thoughts on Government””

“Rev War Revelry” A Discussion with Revolutionary Maryland historian Drew Palmer

When you think of Maryland in the American Revolutionary War, what are the first connections that come to mind? Taking a stab at it, probably the Maryland 400 during the Battle of Brooklyn in 1776? Or possibly the 1st Maryland at the Battle of Guilford Court House in 1781? If you are a national park junkie, potentially Thomas Stone National Historic Site, home of one of Maryland’s four Signers of the Declaration of Independence, may come to mind. If you are not familiar with that NPS unit, click here.

To fill in those gaps, Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes historian Drew Palmer. He is the creator of Revolutionary Maryland, which is an online public history blog that is “dedicated to uncovering and sharing all things related to the state’s experience during this transformative period.”

Palmer is a Revolutionary War historian, a U.S. high school history teacher, and the creator of Revolutionary Maryland. Palmer has worked as a public historian at numerous historic sites over the years, including Appomattox Courthouse, Fort Ticonderoga, Adams National Historical Park, and Fort McHenry National Monument and Shrine. Palmer’s research primarily focuses on the Revolutionary War in Maryland and the South. Most recently, he published his research on Fort Whetstone and the Maryland Matrosses during the Revolutionary War. He also worked with Fort McHenry to direct a short documentary on Fort McHenry’s 250 years of history. Palmer earned his B.A. in history from DeSales University in 2023 and his M.A. in applied history from Shippensburg University in 2024. He currently lives outside of Baltimore and is working on multiple research topics involving the Revolutionary War.

Emerging Revolutionary War is proud to welcome a great emerging historian of the Revolutionary War Era to the “Revelry.” We hope you can join us, live, on Sunday, April 19, at 7 p.m. EDT on our Facebook page.

A Coastal Skirmish in Delaware

Thomas Mitchell, Forcing a Passage on the Hudson. From left to right, Phoenix, Roebuck, and Tartar run forts on the Hudson River later in the war. The smaller vessel on the far left is a tender. Maria or the Lord Howe may have looked like that.

In the spring of 1776, the Sussex County Delaware Committee of Safety sent the schooner Farmer under the command of Nehemiah Field to St. Eustatius for gunpowder, always in short supply in the rebelling colonies.  By then, the little Dutch island in the Caribbean was a well known haven for smugglers to sell and buy embargoed goods.  Indeed, leaders of the rebellion in America had been cruising Caribbean waters for months, always looking to acquire armaments from neutral colonies from under the nose of the Royal Navy, which lacked a sufficient number of ships to stop the practice.  Inevitably, the American smugglers found willing partners, some simply looking to earn a quick profit on high-value goods, others recognizing that islands throughout the area relied on the Americans for bulk foodstuffs.  If the Americans could not trade, some Caribbean colonies might go hungry.

Field successfully acquired a cargo and evaded British patrols between the Caribbean and his destination in the Delaware Bay, but his greatest test would come as he sought to enter the bay and unload his cargo in the lee of Cape Henlopen, near the town of Lewes.  The British fifth-rate Roebuck (44) under Captain Andrew Snape Hamond patrolled the lower bay with various attached small boats.  His chief task was to prevent smuggling, particularly of the kind Field and Farmer represented.  Delaware Bay is a large body of water shaped a bit like a rounded arrowhead.  It narrows at the top where the Delaware River enters and has a wider bottom, closer to the Atlantic Ocean.  But, that wide part starts to curve back on itself, and the mouth of the bay, between Cape Henlopen and Cape May, New Jersey is roughly 17 miles wide with shallows that constrain its navigability for deep-draft ships.  Those shallows limited Roebuck’s mobility and increased the demands on its smaller supporting ships and boats.  So, Captain Hamond relied heavily on his tender, Maria, and boats to intercept smugglers.  

At daybreak on Sunday, April 7, on a clear day, Hamond spied a schooner coming into the bay and already close to the Henlopen light house.  Roebuck set a course to the south in pursuit and dispatched the Maria and two armed boats to venture into the shallower waters.  Hamond was accustomed to chasing ships, but he didn’t know how lucky he was to stumble across the Farmer, originally sent to obtain gunpowder from the Caribbean.  When his prey seemingly ran aground, Hamond must have been delighted.

Read more: A Coastal Skirmish in Delaware

Ashore, guards at the lighthouse sent word to the village of Lewes that a schooner had arrived and was being chased into the bay.  Men were needed to help unload it.  Captain Charles Pope, of the Delaware Continental Battalion, quickly assembled his men and the local militia.  He needed boats to cross a creek, which the townspeople soon produced.  As Pope moved the town militia toward the beaches, the lighthouse guard descended on the Farmer, seven or eight miles south of the cape.  They quickly began unloading cargo: coarse linens.  If Pope was surprised or disappointed, he didn’t mention it.

As the militia arrived, they could see Roebuck’s tender bearing down on the schooner and hear the retort as it loosed a broadside of swivels and muskets at the Farmer and men unloading her.  The Farmer’screw responded by running right up on shore.  The guard returned the tender’s fire with muskets, which Pope’s men quickly augmented as they arrived on the scene.  A gunfight ensued as the militia and crew aboard the tender exchanged shots without doing much damage.  At one point, militiamen even began picking up many of the tender’s musket balls as they rolled on the ground, spent of all energy. But the distance was too great for small arms and eventually the militia laid off firing in order to expedite unloading.  According to Pope, the tender, still standing offshore, dispatched a boat back to the Roebuck, presumably for assistance.  

By the time the frigate rounded the cape, Pope and his men had managed to load two swivels on the Farmer and engage the Maria, which had moved closer and anchored.  As he reported, the exchange of fire between Pope’s men and the tender lasted a solid two hours.  The militia kept up a close fire on the tender to keep her from raising her anchor, probably because they thought they were getting the better of the fight. Pope thought he saw men fall, although Hamond didn’t note any casualties in his log.  Eventually, the Mariasuccessfully hoisted her anchor out of the sand and mud, but then a swivel on the Farmer shot away her halyards and the sail came down, forcing the tender to drop anchor again.  For her part, Roebuck remained in deeper water, visible, but largely out of the fight.  Eventually, she sent over a boat to tow off the Maria.   The boat drew militia fire and Pope thought they inflicted wounds on her crew too, but the boat and Maria eventually drew off, concluding the shoreline skirmish. There were no American casualties and Hamond did not report any from the affair.

Early in the afternoon, Hamond spied another schooner approaching the bay and hauled off to chase her.  He fired one shot at her before identifying her as the Lord Howe, another of his tenders, just arriving from Virginia.  Just another day for the Royal Navy on the American coast.


A Fleet Against One: The Continental Navy’s Embarrassing Clash off Block Island, April 6, 1776

Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historian Bjorn Bruckshaw, a bio follows the post.

British nautical chart of the eastern portion of Long Island Sound showing the location of Block Island and the surrounding waters where the Continental Navy squadron encountered HMS Glasgow on April 6, 1776. Courtesy of the Library of Congress, Geography and Map Division. Public domain.

In the early morning hours of April 6, 1776, a lone British warship slipped through the moonlit waters southeast of Block Island. The twenty-gun frigate HMS Glasgow was carrying dispatches from Newport, Rhode Island, to the British fleet assembling off Charleston, South Carolina. Suddenly the ship’s lookout sighted sails on the horizon—then more sails behind them. Within minutes Captain Tyringham Howe realized the alarming truth: his single ship had encountered nearly the entire fleet of the newly created Continental Navy.¹

What followed should have been a decisive American victory. Commodore Esek Hopkins commanded a squadron of seven armed vessels, including the flagship Alfred, the brigs Cabot and Andrew Doria, and several additional ships. Against them stood only one British frigate. Yet by dawn the British ship had fought its way free and escaped. The encounter became one of the earliest—and most embarrassing—naval engagements of the American Revolution.²

The clash southeast of Block Island revealed the weaknesses of the young American navy: inexperienced crews, poor coordination between ships, and ineffective gunnery. Despite overwhelming numerical superiority, the Continental squadron failed to capture a single enemy warship. As one frustrated American officer later remarked, “A more imprudent, ill-conducted affair never happened.”³

The British vessel at the center of the encounter was HMS Glasgow, a sixth-rate twenty-gun frigate of the Royal Navy. In early April 1776 the ship had been tasked with delivering dispatches from Newport to the British fleet gathering off Charleston for an upcoming campaign against the southern colonies. That expedition would ultimately culminate in the failed British assault during the Battle of Sullivan’s Island in June 1776.⁴

Meanwhile the American rebellion had begun extending onto the seas. The Second Continental Congress had authorized the creation of a navy in late 1775 to challenge British control of American waters. By February 1776 the first ships of the fleet were ready for service, and Congress appointed Hopkins as commander-in-chief of the new force.⁵

Hopkins’s squadron consisted largely of converted merchant vessels hastily adapted for war. The fleet included the flagship Alfred, along with Columbus, Cabot, Andrew Doria, Providence, Wasp, and Fly. Among the officers serving aboard the fleet was a young lieutenant named John Paul Jones, who served aboard the Alfred and would later gain fame as one of the most celebrated naval commanders of the Revolution.⁶

Continue reading “A Fleet Against One: The Continental Navy’s Embarrassing Clash off Block Island, April 6, 1776”