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.
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.
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.
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]
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.
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.
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.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes guest historianBjorn 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
On this date in 1776, Major Joseph Ward, serving as a staff officer for Major General Artemas Ward, second in command of the Continental Army that had just evicted the British from Boston, sat down at his desk to pen the following letter. The recipient was John Adams, a fellow Massachusettsan then serving in the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Ward continued his correspondence of keeping Adams apprised of military affairs around Boston. In this letter, however, he makes the case for the colonies to “cut the Gordian knot” and declare independence, months before Richard Henry Lee’s proposal to call for independence in late June 1776.
Boston 23 March 1776
Sir,
The 17th Instant the Pirates all abandoned their Works in Boston and Charlestown and went on board their Ships, and on the 20th they burnt and destroyed the works on Castle Island. They now lye in Nantasket Road waiting for a fair wind; we keep a vigilant eye over them lest they should make an attack on some unexpected quarter. The particulars with regard to the Seige, the Stores taken, &c. you will receive from better authority, therefore it is unnecessary for me to mention them. Our Troops behaved well, and I think the flight of the British Fleet and Army before the American Arms, must have a happy and very important effect upon the great Cause we engaged in, and greatly facilitate our future operations. I wish it may stimulate the Congress to form an American Government immediately. If, after all our exertions and successes, while Providence offers us Freedom and Independence, we should receive the gloven cloven foot of George to rule here again what will posterity, what will the wise and virtuous through the World say of us? Will they not say, (and jusly) that we were fools who had an inestimable prize put into our hands but had no heart to improve it! Heaven seems now to offer us the glorious privilege, the bright preeminence above all other people, of being the Guardians of the Rights of Mankind and the Patrons of the World. It is the fault of the United Colonies (a rare fault among men) they do not sufficiently know and feel their own strength and importance. Independence would have a great effect upon the Army, some now begin to fear that after all their fatigue and hazards in the Cause of Freedom, a compromise will take place whereby Britain may still exercise a power injurious to the Liberty Peace and Safety of America: Cut the Gordian knot, and the timid and wavering will have new feelings, trimming will be at an end, and the determined faithful friends of their Country will kindle with new ardour, and the United Colonies increase in strength and glory every hour.
Yesterday I saw your Brother, who informed that Mrs. Adams and your Children were well.
General Ward, on account of his declining health, has wrote his Resignation to the President of the Congress. I expect the greatest part of the Army will march for New York, or the Southern Colonies as soon as the Fleet is gone to Sea; and the Troops that remain here will be employed in fortifying the most advantageous Posts to defend the Town and harbour. I do not much expect the Enemy will make any attempts to regain possession of Boston, for I think they are sufficiently convinced that they cannot penetrate the Country in this part of America; ’tis probable they will try their fortune to the Southward and if they fail there the game will be up with them. We hear many accounts about Commissioners coming from Britain to treat with the Colonies separately, or with the Congress. Many fear we shall be duped by them, but I trust the congress is too wise to be awed by the splendor or deceived by the cunning of British Courtiers.
I know not of one discouraging circumstance attending either our civil or military affairs in this part of the Continent. I have lately heard with pleasure that the Farmer is become an advocate for Independence.Wishing the Congress that Wisdom which is from above, I am Sir with much Respect Your most Humble Servant,Joseph Ward
Since the besieged British soldiers in Boston under General William Howe’s command awoke on the morning of March 5, 1776, and saw American cannon overlooking the city from Dorchester Heights, Howe prepared to evacuate Boston. Orders to prepare the embarkation of the troops and military stores and depart Boston went out to his command of 9,000 soldiers on March 7. It took days to organize the large-scale movement, and the British Navy did not have enough space on their ships to carry everything the army had. Decisions had to be made, supplies had to be destroyed or left behind. The military had to make room for loyalists wanting to depart the city as well.
After unfavorable winds delayed the original departure date of March 13, British troops formed into marching columns at 4 a.m. on March 17. Four hours later, General Howe’s army rocked aboard boats in Boston Harbor, abandoning their hold on the American seaport city. General George Washington’s Continental Army did not interfere with the British evacuation, honoring an agreement trading a pause in military action for a promise that British troops would not harm the city as they departed.
While morale sagged on the British boats, Patriots in Boston were jubilant that their city was free from British army. Boston selectman Timothy Newell recorded in his journal the momentous day of Boston’s freedom from British occupation:
This morning at 3 o’clock, the troops began to move–guards, chevaux de freze, crow feet strewed in the streets to prevent being pursued. They all embarked at about 9 oclock and the whole fleet came to sail. Every vessel which they did not carry off, they rendered unfit for use. Not even a boat left to cross the river.
Thus was this unhappy distressed town (through a manifest interposition of divine providence) relieved from a set of men whose unparralleled wickedness, profanity, debauchery and cruelty is inexpressible, enduring a siege from the 19th April 1775 to the 17th March 1776. Immediately upon the fleet’s sailing the Select Men set off through the lines to Roxbury to acquaint General Washington of the evacuation of the town. After sending a message Major Ward, aid to General Ward, came to us at the lines and soon after the General himself, who received us in the most polite and affectionate manner, and permitted us to pass to Watertown to acquaint the Council of this happy event. The General immediately ordered a detachment of 2000 troops to take possession of the town under the command of General Putnam who the next day began their works in fortifying Forthill, etc., for the better security of the town. A number of loaded shells with trains of powder covered with straw were found in houses left by the Regulars near the fortifycation.
Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Drew Palmer. He is the founder of Revolutionary Maryland; click here to learn more about that blog.
(Vallejo Image Galleries)
In the early evening of March 5, 1776, two armed boats left Annapolis to patrol the Chesapeake Bay. Captain John Pitt and Joseph Middleton were patrolling to prevent any British ships nearby from entering Maryland’s waters. As they patrolled, they discovered an alarming sight: three British warships heading directly towards Annapolis. Middleton and Pitt rushed off to the Maryland Council of Safety’s chambers in Annapolis to report the startling news.1 In the coming days, Maryland was tested for the first time in the growing Revolutionary conflict.
The American rebellion had become a full-scale war by the spring of 1776. In early March, the siege of British-held Boston was about to end. Hundreds of miles south in Philadelphia, the Declaration of Independence was only four months away. In Maryland, politicians worked hard to maintain Maryland’s isolation from the worst of the conflict. In Virginia, a raiding war had already begun. Only two months before, the town of Norfolk, Virginia, was bombarded, leading to the destruction of the town. Along with Norfolk’s destruction, British attacks and raids were carried out throughout the lower Chesapeake Bay, along with a blockade. 2
Participating in British operations in the lower Chesapeake was Captain Mathew Squire of the British Royal Navy. For several months, Squire’s vessel, the Otter, served as the headquarters of the exiled Virginia Governor, Lord Dunmore. From the Otter, British attacks and raids were launched on Patriot strongholds in the lower Chesapeake. By March, Squire had gained a reputation as a competent officer and ruthless raider of American shipping.3 Squire was heavily involved in the bombardment of Norfolk and an attempted attack on Hampton, Virginia. Though Squire’s area of operation had been centered on the lower Chesapeake, new intelligence pulled him northward into Maryland.