In 1793, when the new United States had barely got its sea legs, France declared war on England. Both countries were so busy fighting each other by land and by sea that they had not the men or resources to produce the food and supplies they needed. Neutral United States could supply both combatants and did so very profitably.
However, each warring country tried to deprive the other of supplies and attacked American ships carrying supplies to the enemy or the enemy’s colonies. President Washington made a deal with the British in 1794, Jay’s Treaty, which limited seizure of American ships by the British, but the French attacked every American ship they could catch if bound from or to a British port or if carrying a British cargo.
If his ship avoided capture, a Maine shipowner could profit handsomely. He could take a cargo of lumber, barrel staves and salt fish to a West Indian colony and bring back sugar, rum and coffee. With the proceeds, he could sail to a southern United States port for Russian and Swedish ironwork, hemp and sailcloth imported under a southern state’s low tariff. These states also produced flour, salt beef, salt pork, tobacco and rice. With these and with Maine masts, lumber and fish he could make up a valuable cargo for a European port. Many a ship paid for herself on a single voyage, and large fortunes were made.
However, there was a dark side: the seas swarmed with French privateers recently commissioned by France, many of which had been pirates and had not forgotten how. American ships with rich cargoes were very attractive to these “red-bonneted ruffians,” who seized the ships and left the crews to find their own ways home. Each venture was a great gamble — make a quick fortune or lose ship and cargo. Two examples will illustrate the possibilities.
In August 1799, Moses Carlton’s topsail schooner NABBY sailed from Wiscasset under Captain James Clifford with Alexander Reed, mate, bound for Tortola, a British island. At Tortola she traded her cargo of boards, staves and shingles for rum, sugar and coffee and in November headed for home with a fair wind and every prospect of a profitable voyage.
On November 9 a man aloft reported a sail to windward. As she rapidly approached, she appeared to carry ten guns and her deck was crowded with a motley crew. Captain Clifford bore off and ran for it, crowding all sail he could set, sending men aloft to wet down the canvas, but NABBY was heavy laden and not built for speed. As the stranger ranged up alongside, she broke out French colors and fired a gun across NABBY’s bow. Captain Clifford had no choice but to heave to. His antagonist was the French privateer LE BASCAR. NABBY was a neutral vessel, but she was from a British port and carrying British merchandise so under French law, she was a fair prize. The privateer’s crew looted NABBY thoroughly, taking $300 in hard money and Reed’s quadrant. LE BASCAR took NABBY into San Juan, Puerto Rico, a Spanish port. The cargo was confiscated before any prize court gave a decision, and captain and crew were set ashore. They were soon joined by the crew of the sloop BETSY, also from Wiscasset and owned by Moses Carlton, Jr. She too had been captured by a French privateer — or pirate. BETSY’s mast was taken to replace LE BASCAR’s mainmast.
Reed found his way home on JUNO, an American vessel bound for Charleston. Captain Clifford and Joseph Perkins of NABBY and Captain Harrington of BETSY, in the absence of the American consul, lodged a protest with the Spanish governor, and Perkins in a “manly way” gave the governor a vivid factual account of the incident. After some delay, the governor did nothing. It appeared that the owner of LE BASCAR and other “privateers” ran a very profitable ship chandlery in which sails and rigging of captured vessels were sold. The governor got his share.
Reed was on his way home. Captain Clifford and his crew bought NABBY’s boat, intending to sail to St. Thomas and find an American vessel there; but the boat was stolen. Nevertheless, they got to St. Thomas somehow and eventually got home to Wiscasset. NABBY later appeared in Boston under different owners with a registry identical to her original papers. BETSY, NABBY and their cargoes were a dead loss to the Carltons. Years later, in 1822, Reed and Perkins met again in Wiscasset.
Sometimes it went the other way. Captain William Clifford, Jr. in APOLLO, not Captain James Clifford of NABBY, was sailing in company with Captain Benjamin Lasell in VENUS, homeward bound when they were captured by a French privateer. The crews were taken aboard the privateer and prize crews put aboard the American vessels with orders to head for Santo Domingo. However, Captain Clifford and one Mr. Trask were left aboard APOLLO, perhaps to navigate the schooners to Santo Domingo. The privateer went off in search of more prey.
The next day was smooth and pleasant, the two schooners sailing close enough so the two prizemasters could chat cheerfully. The prizemaster of APOLLO had left his cutlass and pistols on the binnacle — a bad place for cutlass and pistols anyway — had turned his back on them and stood at the rail talking with his friend on VENUS. Clifford tossed the pistols to Trask, who was standing in the companionway, seized the cutlass and ordered the helmsman to put the wheel hard down. APOLLO’s prizemaster ordered VENUS’s prizemaster to shoot Clifford. Clifford replied that if he did, APOLLO’s prizemaster was a dead man. The two schooners separated. Trask herded the prize crew forward and confined them in the hold. He and Clifford sailed Apollo home to Wiscasset to an enthusiastic welcome from the owners.
Dead loss or jackpot.