Active	Commander Charles Biddle
Armed Brig	29 September 1781-21 December 1781
Pennsylvania Privateer Brigantine

Commissioned/First Date:	29 September 1781
Out of Service/Cause:	21 December 1781/captured by HMS Chatham

Owners:

Francis Gurney, Charles Pettit, Clement Biddle et al, all of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Tonnage:

Battery:

Date Reported: 29 September 1781 Number/Caliber  Weight        Broadside 7/ Total: 7 cannon/ Broadside: 3 cannon/ Swivels:

Crew:

29 September 1781: 26 [total]

Description:

Officers:

(1) First Mate Benjamin Leacraft, 29 September 1781-December 1781 (2) Second Mate Art, September 1781-21 December 1781

Cruises:

Prizes:

Actions:

Comments:

Pennsylvania Privateer Brig Active was commissioned on 29 September 1781, out of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, with a $20000 bond. Her commander was Charles Biddle of Philadelphia,¹ a brother of Continental Navy Captain Nicholas Biddle (killed in action in 1778). Biddle listed his age as 34.² First Mate Benjamin Leacraft was also a Philadelphian. Bonders were Charles Biddle and Francis Gurney.³ Active was listed as having a battery of seven guns and a crew of twenty-four men.⁴

Active sailed in November 1781 for St. Thomas, Danish Virgin Islands. Here is the story of the voyage from Biddle’s autobiography:

“I engaged to go from Philadelphia in a Letter of Marque brig, called the Active to St Thomas. We had eight four pounders; the crew consisted of ten men and four boys besides the two mates and myself, with Dr Valentine Standley, a passenger. We left the Capes in company with a large fleet the 15th of November 1781. My old shipmate Captain Decatur went out in company with us in a privateer of twenty guns called The Royal Lewis [Royal Louis]. The night we left the Capes it blew hard from the northeast. The brig made so much water going upon a wind that we could hardly keep her free. About 10 PM I hailed Decatur who kept near us and told him we must keep to the southward. He said he had an account the day before he left Philadelphia of two British frigates being cruising oft the Capes of Virginia. I answered that I must bear away or the brig would founder and accordingly I bore away. Decatur kept his wind a few minutes and then followed us. At daylight we made the two frigates right ahead not more than two miles off. They immediately gave chase. Decatur hauled his wind I stood in shore, determined to run ashore sooner than be taken. Decatur was taken about 12 o clock. We made our escape.”⁵

Charles Biddle. A portrait from much later in his life, when he was the nation's banker.

“We had a good passage and fell in with nothing until we made St Thomas when we saw off the harbor a brig which we found was a British cruiser. It was early in the morning when we first discovered her; she was beating up and we were going before the wind. Finding as she drew near that we could have no chance by fighting her, I determined to go into St Johns, if we could get there. We were both becalmed off the west end of the island and we got out oars, and rowed for the harbor. They got out their boats and towed their vessel to cut us off. I had been in this harbor with the Eclipse and knew they had a single fort. They got within gunshot of us several times, and would have taken us, if they had not been too eager. When within shot, they pulled around to give us a broadside, by which means we got a considerable way ahead They did this without doing us any injury whatever. Had they continued rowing without firing a shot, they would have been alongside before we could have reached the harbor. They kept firing (and many of their shot reached the shore) until I hailed the fort to know why they did not fire. They then fired a shot which struck the water under her boltsprit. She then hauled off. We learned afterwards that she was a King’s Brig The master of her deserved to be broken for not taking us. My crew behaved very well, except one man whom I thought before this day was afraid of nothing. He however endeavored to get down the fore scuttle. Whenever the brig pulled round to fire my crew gave them three cheers, and were anxious to return the fire, but I knew if we broke off any of the men from the oars we must be taken and therefore would not suffer it.”⁶

“I went from St Johns the same day in my boat to St Thomas. Mr Mitchell, an old friend, settled here, told me to be careful of the Governor; if he knew it was me who had insulted their fort he did not know what would be the consequence. I found here my friend Falvey. He was in partnership with a Thomas Reilly, under the firm of Falvey and Reilly. I sold my cargo, which consisted of flour and tobacco, to Mr Lisle, a native of Philadelphia, who was married and settled in Tortola. Mr Mitchell was his surety. After delivering the cargo he was to have returned and paid me in four days. He was gone ten. I was very uneasy, and Mitchell more so, fearing he would not return. However, he came the tenth day, and paid me honestly. He had been detained collecting the money, which was in new half Johannes, which I at first thought he had been coining atTortola. I purchased some rum at St Johns, and having procured what dry goods I wanted, sailed from St Johns the 13th of December. . .”⁷ Disgusted with Standley, Biddle left him behind. First Mate Leacraft was also discharged at St. Johns.

“There were several privateers oft the harbor; however we escaped them all Two or three days after we left St Johns, a fever broke out amongst the crew. For several days after they were taken, they grew worse, and more were taken down with the disorder. They complained of violent pains in their heads, and they were frequently delirious, so that we were obliged to confine them to prevent their jumping overboard. Upon inquiry of the second mate . . . what could be the cause of their disorder, he informed me that the people had filled the casks with water from a pond at the back of the fort, and perhaps it was owing to that. Upon questioning one of those employ ed in getting the water, he acknowledged, that finding it difficult to get to the watering place, they had filled the casks out of the pond, and that one of the inhabitants told them not to fill the casks with that water, for it would kill them. Knowing how very unwholesome bad water is, I had no doubt but the fever was occasioned by the water, but we had now none other to use. I was determined, if we had any heavy rains, to start the water we had, and fill our casks with rain water. The fifth day after we were out, we buried one of the crew, and had six so ill that they could not come upon deck. I had the sick removed forward, and everything made as comfortable for them as possible. We had a fine wind from the time of leaving St Johns, and I was in hopes the cold weather we now had would abate the fever, but it had not that effect, probably owing to all the crew being infected with the disease before this time. The sixth day the stoutest and heartiest man we had on board, Leonard May, a young man born in Philadelphia, whose parents now live here, was taken unwell. As it was cold and rainy when he complained to me of being sick, I desired him to go below, but not to go forward among the sick. However, he found the place they were in, the warmest in the vessel, and went there. The next morning we found him dead; he appeared as if he had been strangled. I was much concerned for the loss of this young man, for he was a very good seaman, and did whatever he was ordered with cheerfulness. He was telling the second mate the day before he was taken unwell that he wished the sick would all make a general will and leave him their heir.”⁸

“The eighth day after leaving St Johns, about one o’ clock in the morning, the wind shifted from the southeast to northwest, and blew hard. At daylight we saw a large ship to windward of us lying to, under her foresail. She so soon made sail after us that I was convinced she was a man of war. I therefore immediately bore away to the southward. At this time there was not a man belonging to the vessel, but the second mate and myself, but were sick or had died. We were then by our reckoning about twenty five leagues from the Capes of Delaware. We had three passengers on board and, with their assistance made sail. At eleven o’ clock, the weather being more moderate, we got up our topgallant yards and set the topgallant sails. At noon, while taking an observation, the chase fired a shot over us. I then hove our guns overboard. We were now going ten knots, and there was so little difference in our sailing that it was three o’ clock before she got so near as to oblige us to strike. Being then within pistol-shot, and with no possibility of escaping, I hove to. They fired one of their forecastle guns after we had hove to, when they were close alongside. The shot went over the quarter deck just above our heads. I was glad to see them fire the first shot, and was in hopes they would have luffed up, and given us a broadside as the brig had done, but they only fired from their forecastle. During the chase, as it was a fine day, I had several of the poor fellows who were sick helped upon the quarterdeck, and dressed in some uniform coats I had on board, of red and blue, in hopes they would take me for a British vessel, and leave off the chase. Some of the officers told me afterwards that they did take us for an English packet, and, had they seen any other vessel, would have given up the chase. We found the ship that captured us was the Chatham of fifty guns commanded by Andrew S. Douglass. She had chased a vessel the day before to the westward, which occasioned their being so near the land. We were all taken on board the man-of-war except four, who were too ill to be removed.⁹

“A circumstance that happened a few days after we were taken, gave me a very unfavorable opinion of this Captain Douglass. The sick belonging to the brig complaining to me of their being badly accommodated, I wrote a note to him. His servant told the person I sent it by, that Captain Douglass had ordered him never to take a letter to him from any of the prisoners. I suppose this great man thought it beneath his dignity to attend to an unfortunate prisoner. Upon speaking to the second lieutenant he had everything that could be of service to the poor fellows done for them. I found the cooper of the Chatham (Merit Brown) was a man that had made several voyages with me. He was a native of Philadelphia, and married there. He was a smart, active fellow, and told me he had been impressed, but I believe he got drunk and entered. He was, or pretended to be, very anxious to get home. They had also Abraham Wilbank, one of our Delaware pilots, who was a refugee, and left Philadelphia with the British.”¹⁰

“Two days after we were taken we a hard gale of wind from the northeast. About one o’ clock AM., finding the ship to labor very much, and the pumps constantly going, I went upon deck with Mr Potts, one of the passengers taken with me. The ship was lying hove to, there were but few men upon deck, and I saw no officers but the sailing master, who was an American, one or two midshipmen, and the pilot. I gave it as my opinion to the sailing-master that the ship would lay to much easier if the mizzen staysail was set. He said no canvas would hold in such a gale. I told him I had been lying to on the coast with canvas set when it blew harder. He made me no answer, probably thinking it impertinent in me to give my advice. I soon went below with Potts, telling him as we went down that we were in danger every moment of a sea breaking on board, and as the ship was old and crazy it would send us to Davy Jones’s locker. I had not been off the deck but a few minutes before the master had the mizzen staysail set, when the ship lay to much safer and easier. The officers then belonging to the ship were men less qualified than any I had ever sailed with I doubt whether there was a ship in the British Navy that had officers so little experienced. . . .”¹¹

The Chatham cruised on the coast until 1 January 1782, when she steered for New York. One of Active’s sailors, had died on 29 December 1781. Biddle says “we buried John Shute, a fine lad that was taken with me. A cousin of his, of the same name, was left on board the brig. He was so bad the day before we were taken, that we were obliged to confine him to prevent his jumping overboard. It gave me great pain to use the violence we were obliged to use to this valuable young man, who had been an officer in the American army. He went to sea, expecting through the interest of his friends to do better than he could do by staying in the army. When we were tying him I was much affected with his calling out, ‘Oh Captain Biddle! my dear Captain Biddle! will you stand by and see me treated in this vile manner?’ Finding his entreaties could do nothing, he swore I should fight him as soon as we landed. Poor fellow it was his fate never to reach the shore.”¹²

Chatham anchored off Sandy Hook on 3 January, following which Douglass went ashore. On the evening of 3 January a fire broke out on Chatham which was only put out with difficulty. Biddle offered advice and was very harsh in his judgments on the British officers.¹³ On 4 January Chatham went up the harbor, running aground in the process, and anchored in the East River on 5 January. Biddle was contacted by an old friend, and was then taken to see the refugee former mayor of Philadelphia, Samuel Shoemaker. About 7 January Biddle obtained permission to visit his crew, who had been confined on the Jersey.¹⁴ Biddle described the visit:

“When I first went on board the remains of two of the prisoners were lying on the gratings,— they had died the evening before. Upon inquiring of a young lad that had been with me of the name of Eckert (son of Col Eckert of Berks County), the reason of these not being buried, he said they were waiting until they had a boat load. He may have possibly been misinformed. It was at this time reported and generally believed among the Americans that the prisoners were poisoned. I believe it was only by their having unwholesome provisions, and cooked in coppers not cleaned, that they were poisoned. It was greatly to the honor of the American character, that, notwithstanding they were in want of everything to make their situation comfortable, and every method was tried to induce them, there was hardly an instance of a native American entering on board their ships. I never heard of any but Merit Brown, cooper of the Chatham; nor am I certain he did so of his own will. Had the prisoners in New York been treated with the same indulgence that those who were taken by General Carleton at Quebec were, few would have entered into the American service after their return home. His kindness had a great effect upon the officers, most of whom resigned as soon as they returned to their families. All my crew died except the second mate, now Captain Art, who, with great difficulty, I got exchanged with me. The brig never arrived, nor was she heard of after we left her, so that I have no doubt she foundered in the gale of wind we had two days after we were taken. She was injured by carrying sail the day of our capture. All the sixteen men and boys that went with me from Philadelphia were very hearty when we sailed,— the eldest of the men was not more than twenty five years of age. It was melancholy to reflect that none of them ever returned to their relations or friends.¹⁵

After three or four weeks Biddle was exchanged.¹⁶ He and Art were the only survivors of the trip home.

¹ NRAR, 219

² Claghorn, Naval Officers of the American Revolution, 24

³ NRAR, 219

⁴ NRAR, 219; Emmons, 127

⁵ Biddle, Charles, Autobiography of Charles Biddle: Vice-president of the Supreme Executive Council of Pennsylvania, 1745-1821, E. Claxton & Co, 1883: Philadelphia, 152-153

⁶ Biddle, 153-154

⁷ Biddle, 154-155

⁸ Biddle, 155-156

⁹ Biddle, 156-157

¹⁰ Biddle, 157

¹¹ Biddle, 157-158

¹² Biddle, 159

¹³ Biddle, 159-160

¹⁴ Biddle, 161-162

¹⁵ Biddle, 162-163

¹⁶ Biddle, 166

Revised 15 September 2008

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