Battle of Stonington

DESCRIPTION: "Four/Three/A gallant ship(s) from England came, Freighted deep with fire and flame... To have a dash at Stonington." The Ramilles opens the attack on the town. The Americans have few guns but fight hard and drive off the British ships
AUTHOR: Philip Freneau (1752-1832) (source: De Kay)
EARLIEST DATE: 1889 (Old Folks' Concert Tunes)
KEYWORDS: battle ship navy patriotic
HISTORICAL REFERENCES:
Aug 9, 1814 - The attack on Stonington, CT
FOUND IN: US
REFERENCES (3 citations):
Cohen-AmericanFolkSongsARegionalEncyclopedia1, pp. 84-86, "The Battle of Stonington" (1 text plus a broadside print)
Jackson-EarlySongsOfUncleSam, pp. 185-186, "Battle of Stonington" (1 text)
ADDITIONAL: James Tertius De Kay, _The Battle of Stonington: Torpedoes, Submarines, and Rockets in the War of 1812_, 1990; I use the 1997 Parnassus Imprints paperback, pp. 184-186, "(The Battle of Stonington)" (1 text)
Roud #V42138
NOTES [3070 words]: Although the song makes a great deal of this battle, it seems in fact to have been a pretty minor affair. I checked four general histories of the War of 1812; only two of them mentioned it at all, and neither description is long. There is, however, at least one book about the event: de Kay's, cited here.
Mahon, p. 254, says that by the time of the battle, the British were becoming upset with "barbarous" American tactics, such as the use of "torpedoes" (mines). Orders were given for reprisals. Few British field commanders indulged in such behavior. There was one exception:
"Rear Admiral Henry Hotham, however, took [these orders] as authority to punish Stonington, Connecticut for harboring torpedoes. Four British warships began to bombard Stonington on 9 August 1814. They ceased at the end of the day, but resumed it on 11 August. The fort stoutly replied, and the local militia swarmed 3,000 strong to repel the expected landing. The vessels drew off when night came and did not return" (Mahon, p. 254).
On the British side, there seems to have been little determination to pursue the battle. Heidler/Heidler: , pp. 492-493, have this to say about the battle:
"For four days, beginning 9 August 1814, a large, heavily armed British naval squadron under the command of Commodore Sir Thomas Masterman Hardy [commander of Nelson's VIctory at Trafalgar] bombarded the tiny seaport of Stonington, Connecticut." The ships involved were the 74-gun Ramilles, the 38-gun Pactolus, and the 18-gun Dispatch and Nimrod. To fight this armada, which supposedly fired 50 tons of metal into the town, the Americans had two 18-pound guns and one 6-pounder (I suspect the Heidlers got their data from De Kay, p. 1, since he quotes those exact numbers).
The Heidlers report that Hardy was clearly trying to avoid inflicting casualties; he gave the citizens warning and time to get out. This limited the damage he could do to the town -- only four of the hundred or so houses were destroyed, with thirty to forty more damaged. Only six Americans were injured and none killed. British casualties are uncertain, with reports varying from two to 21.
I find it curious that, nine years after Trafalgar, where Thomas Hardy commanded a first-rate, the Victory, in 1814 Hardy was still a captain -- and commanding a smaller ship, the 74 gun Ramilles (De Kay, p. 9). He was serving as commodore commanding a small squadron, but his rank was still just captain.
The American commander at Stonington (on the east bank of the Mystic River across from Groton, Connecticut), insofar as there was one, was also a character: Jeremiah Holmes, who -- despite being an American -- had been impressed onto a British warship, had risen to be a gun captain, had deserted, then commanded his own American ship which had run British blockades (De Kay, pp. 16-20).
According to De Kay, what made Stonington significant (insofar as it was significant) was the geography of New York. Since the British, in 1812-1814, were busy with Napoleon, they could only give the United States a little of their attention. Mostly in the form of a naval blockade of American ports. This allowed the British to gradually shut down American coastal commerce and trap the handful of ships of the American navy. The American victories at sea that inspired such songs as "The Constitution and the Guerriere" [Laws A6] and "The Hornet and the Peacock" were mostly over by 1814, because most of the ports were closed. Stephen Decatur, in fact, had three ships in the area that he wanted to put to sea -- and he couldn't get them out.
New York, though, was harder to deal with than most American ports. It had two exits, one near Sandy Hook and the other via Long Island Sound, and the blockading fleets for those two exits were not mutually supporting and could not even communicate with each other in real time. In effect, there were two different blockades of New York. And the exit by Long Island Sound was particularly problematic because ships could leave New York and, if confronted by a British warship, simply duck into the nearest hamlet along the shore and be safe. Stonington was one such minor hamlet.
Neither side was really playing by the rules. The British Admiral George Cockburn was attacking American towns. And, in Hardy's department, an American privateer had taken a British ship and had captured the crew. That was legitimate -- but the Americans were holding the crew for ransom (De Kay, p. 25). Hardy wrote to the Connecticut authorities, threatening to bombard New London if the crew weren't freed -- but, once the Americans did the civilized thing, Hardy did the same, and sent letters to the Americans promising to continue to do so if his orders allowed (De Kay, p. 26). But then the American congress passed an act authorizing the use of "torpedoes, submarine instruments, or any other destructive machines whatever" to fight the British navy (De Kay, p. 29). In effect, the Americans were offering a bounty on British ships destroyed. In other words, the Americans went from unofficially violating what were considered the rules of civilized warfare to officially doing so. This sort of petty harassment was particularly problematic since the British had no real local bases; ships needed to sail for Halifax, or England, if they needed major work done. What were the British to do?
De Kay describes various attempts the Americans made to go after blockading British ships, such as filling a ship with explosives and trying to lure the British into approaching (De Kay, pp. 34-37). That succeeded in blowing up a British ship, killing many of her sailors -- and forcing Hardy to reconsider the rules by which he fought, because the ship that the Americans had used was, to all appearances, a merchantman. There was no way, in such circumstances, to distinguish combatants from non-combatants.
Then Stephen Decatur, whose squadron (the United States, the Macedonian, and the Hornet) was blockaded in New London by Hardy's ships, sanctioned an attempt to kidnap Hardy (De Kay, pp. 44-48). Dare I suggest that this was not the best way to encourage good behavior by one's enemies? Decatur eventually paid off two of his three ships and took the crews elsewhere (De Kay, p. 106), but not until there had been a lot of shadowboxing.
There was also an American attempt to use a submarine to go after the British fleets (De Kay, pp. 54-55. De Kay isn't sure who was responsible although he mentions a "Mr. Halsey"; Internet sources claim it was a man named Silas Halsey). This trick too came to nothing. And Robert Fulton's first "torpedoes" (what we would now call mines) failed against a British ship (De Kay, p. 56; ironically, years earlier, Fulton had tried to sell the devices to the Royal Navy and been rejected; De Kay, pp. 74-75). Another fast, low-in-the-water craft was designed by someone named "Berrien" to push torpedoes toward ships (De Kay, pp. 64-65). It didn't succeed either. But you can see why the British felt anxious!
Plus there had been atrocities along the Canadian frontier. The British troops themselves rarely got out of hand, but their Indian allies had their own rules, and Americans had been known to burn Canadian settlements. It was turning into an ugly war.
Hardy came up with his own response, which was to keep dozens of prisoners of war aboard the Ramillies, so that they would share its fate were it attacked by an infernal machine (De Kay, p. 57). His superior Admiral Cochrane eventually circulated an offer to slaves: Desert and we'll either give you a job at sea or set you free in another colony (De Kay, p. 108). Hardy also worked hard to get intelligence on what the Americans were up to (De Kay, p. 60. This was probably easier in New England than in other parts of the country, since New England broadly opposed the War of 1812. Indeed, according to De Kay, pp. 62-63, the British did not want to antagonize the New Englanders with whom they were trading).
The British were also taking steps to capture, and even annex, areas along the coast of what was then part of Massachusetts and is now part of the state of Maine (De Kay, pp. 114-121 and elsewhere).
After some months of relying on Hardy's relatively small squadron to guard Long Island Sound, in 1814 the British sent reinforcements, commanded by Rear Admiral Sir Henry Hotham, to tighten the blockade and, perhaps, prepare for more invasions (De Kay, p. 135).
By this time, the towns at the mouth of the Mystic decided they needed something to guard them against the small raiding boats the British sometimes deployed. So the people of Groton build Fort Rachel, with a single 4-pound gun, and those at Stonington built a position at Pistol Point, with a Revolutionary War-era 9-pound gun and (later) two 6-pounders (De Kay, p. 53).
Hotham and Hardy wanted to find someplace where they could try to go after the American navy and its infernal machines. De Kay, pp. 138-139, suggests that they thought about the known naval sites in Long Island Sound -- and concluded they were too well defended. They needed a softer spot. Stonington may have been a place they were particularly conscious of because a group of impressed British sailors successfully deserted and landed there (De Kay, pp. 67-68). In any case, Hotham and Hardy decided to make their demonstration there (De Kay, pp. 140-141).
The American side by this time was facing what seemed a desperate situation. To this point, the war had been roughly a draw -- but only because the British had been distracted by Napoleon. With Napoleon on Elba (permanently, it was thought), the British were preparing to ship large forces to the United States (De Kay, pp. 144-145). As it turned out, bad generalship would cause those forces to under-perform. (The general rule in the War of 1812 was that whoever was attacking was in trouble, because most of the generals were nitwits and having a nitwit commander hurts an attacking force more than the defending force.) But the Americans were deeply worried, and needed every success they could find.
Not all the British forces in Long Island Sound went to Stonington. According to De Kay, p. 38, the first phase of the attack was carried out by a 38-gun frigate, the Pactolus, a 20-gun brig, the Dispatch, and the "bomb" ship Terror, later to be one of Sir John Franklin's ships. Hardy himself went aboard the Pactolus temporarily during the assault (De Kay, p. 163), and sent a warning to the town telling them they had an hour to depart before the attack (De Kay, p. 150, with a photo of the letter itself on p. 151. De Kay thinks its somewhat confused wording indicates some unhappiness on Hardy's part; I suspect he was merely in a hurry. That being said, the order to attack was apparently made by Hotham, not Hardy.)
When the ultimatum was received, the people of the town decided, supposedly unanimously, to resist (De Kay, pp. 152-153). Treasures were hastily buried, the defenses manned, and women and children and those men who were not involved in the defense moved to the outskirts of town for safety (De Kay, pp. 154-155).
The deadline was considered to be 7:00 p.m., but the British needed time to deploy their vessels, so the actual attack did not start until 8:00 p.m. (De Kay, p. 155). This means that the attack took place in the dark, so neither side could do much aiming. The British used the mortars on the Terror plus many Congreve rockets; the Americans could only answer with their handful of cannon (De Kay, pp. 156-157). The bombardment started many fires in the town, but fire crews were ready and put most of the fires out before they did much damage (De Kay, p. 159). The town was still mostly intact when the British ran low on rockets and Hardy ordered the bombardment suspended for the time being (De Kay, pp. 160-161).
On August 10, the bombardment started again, even though the Pactolus soon went aground (De Kay, p. 168). There was supposed to be an amphibious attack as well (De Kay, p. 163). But the American militia was watching, and managed to hit one of the landing craft with an 18-pound shot. Then they managed a hit on the Dispatch, which had moved close to shore to cover the landing (De Kay, pp. 164-165) -- damaging her enough that she would soon have to sail to Halifax for repairs (De Kay, p. 169-170). though they soon were out of ammunition and ended up spiking several guns (De Kay, p. 166). They eventually found more gunpowder, but their slow match was out, so they had to use flintlock rounds to fire the remaining cannon -- a deadly technique. The gun crews suffered the worst injuries among the Americans: one man mortally wounded (Frederick Denison, the only American to die in the fight) and another with his eyesight permanently impaired (De Kay, p. 169).
They left their flag flying, though -- a peculiar, unofficial flag with sixteen stars and sixteen stripes. Yes, there were sixteen states at the time, but Congress had never gotten around to adopting a new design; at the time, the official flag had fifteen stars and fifteen stripes. The people of Stonington has anticipated and flown a new design; according to De Kay, p. 166, this battered emblem, which still exists, is the only contemporary sixteen-star flat still in existence (he has a photo on p. 167). Around 10:00, the fighting paused again, though the Ramilles was now close by and another ship, the brig Nimrod, had joined the attacking force (De Kay, p. 170).
The defenders then sent a message to Hardy, asking what his plans were. Hardy had the Terror keep firing but awaited the boat that came under a flag of truce (De Kay, p. 171). The negotiations were strange; Hardy declared that, since the town didn't have torpedoes and he hoped they would return an imprisoned woman, he would suspend the bombardment (De Kay, p. 173, with a facsimile of Hardy's formal letter on pp. 174-175). De Kay, p. 175, thinks Hardy was trying to find an excuse to call off the bombardment. The problem was, the town didn't have the prisoner, Mrs. Stewart, so they couldn't release her; they could only ask other authorities to give her up. While the Americans considered what to do, they looked over the town, finding that a lot of buildings were damaged but only a few truly ruined. They also repaired their spiked cannons (De Kay, p. 178). After some comic opera negotiations, the people told Hardy that they couldn't produce Mrs. Stewart, and he told them the bombardment would have to resume (De Kay, pp. 179-181). Hardy said he would resume bombardment at 1:00; as it turned out, the Terror did not fire again until 3:00, and kept on firing, slowly, until sunset (De Kay, p. 181). Early the next day, August 12, the Ramillies and the Pactolus moved close to shore, fired three broadsides, and headed back to deep water. The Terror stopped firing at about noon (De Kay, pp. 182-183). The Americans didn't know it yet, but that was the end of the battle.
De Kay, p. 189, states his opinion that Hardy did not like the attack on the town, and deliberately tried to limit damage and casualties; on p. 191 he suggests that Hardy tried to find some excuse for claiming victory and leaving the Americans alone, but the Americans didn't give him much to work with. So the result was basically a draw, mostly because Hardy kept pulling his punches. This may well be true, but it's also worth remembering that ships firing solid shot had a hard time damaging land targets. A cannon shot could, if lucky, knock down another ship's mast, or hole her below the waterline, and do severe damage -- but if a cannon shot knocks down someone's kitchen, that means one less kitchen in the world, but the rest of the town is not affected!
Property damage to Stonington was estimated at about $4000 (De Kay, p. 183). American casualties, as noted above, were one mortally wounded, one somewhat crippled, and a few lightly injured. British casualties are not precisely known. Hardy claimed two killed; the Americans said they buried four; an American later claimed that a British officer reported 21 killed and 50 wounded on the Dispatch (De Kay, pp. 183-184).
It was much like Fort McHenry, which took place soon after: Fundamentally, a draw. But the Americans made a lot of propaganda out of it. On the other hand, one of the British goals was to keep the Americans from sending militia to attack Canada -- and in that they largely succeeded.
The author of this piece was Philip Freneau, sometimes called "The Poet of the American Revolution" -- but, since he lived until 1832, he had plenty of chances to cover the War of 1812. He was a prolific poet -- Granger's Index to Poetry lists dozens of poems by him -- but very little of his work is familiar today, and as far as I can tell, none of it has gone into tradition. Nor is this one of his more popular pieces.
For a work by a contemporary poet, it is surprisingly inaccurate. In particular, it refers very often to the Nimrod. The Nimrod was briefly present at Stonington, but never engaged. It appears Freneau confused the Nimrod with the Dispatch, which was the only British ship to suffer significant damage in the battle. The two were of about the same size, so maybe the confusion is understandable, but there was so much to-ing and fro-ing of messages during the battle that you'd think someone would have figured out which ship was which! The song does get the name of the Ramillies correct (well, it's misspelled, but clearly the same ship), but it called the Terror "Razee."
There is also a mention of a "Parson Jones." I can only say that De Kay's index has no such person.
Although there seem to be no traditional collections of this poem, the printed texts show some variation in the number of ships (one, three, or four). There were actually five ships that came to Stonington: Ramillies, Pactolus, Terror, Dispatch, and Nimrod. But Nimrod didn't really fight, so arguably the count should be four. And only three were involved in the initial phase. And only Dispatch came close to shore. So there is something to be said for each figure.
Possibly the variations arose because, according to De Kay, p. 186, the poem was often used in school "declamations," particularly in Connecticut.
Connecticut still vigorously celebrates Stonington, but, as noted, it seems mostly forgotten by other historians. - RBW
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