Patriot Pirates by Robert H. Patton

compensate
Hannah
’s officers $130, but on the mutineers he bestowed “a reward of a different kind,” thirty-nine lashes for the ringleader and reassignment to the trenches for the rest.
    His headaches didn’t end there. Each of
Hannah
’s next seven captures had to be restored to its American owner with damages paid out of Continental coffers for goods pilfered by the crew. The schooner’s deployment ended when Broughton was chased into Beverly by HMS
Nautilus
. He beached his boat in panic and damaged the keel, incidentally winding up as the expedition’s sole casualty when he caught a cold leading an all-hands retreat through waist-deep October seawater.
    Inexplicably promoted to “acting commodore,” Broughton next sailed north to Nova Scotia at the head of two newly outfitted schooners in search of the convoy John Hancock had reported. His scorecard improved insofar as only four of the seven prizes he captured had to be returned to their proper owners. But even his legitimate booty was lackluster—fish and firewood, mostly—so in frustration he anchored at Charlottetown on Prince Edward Island and began a two-day looting binge.
    He took captive the mayor and justice of the peace and set off for Beverly laden with shoes, woolens, household silver, and forty tubs of butter. Expecting a glorious reception upon his return in December, he learned that most of the prizes he’d sent back earlier had been rejected as unlawful.
    Orders came for Broughton and his second-in-command, John Selman, to report at once to Washington, who received them just after releasing the Canadian hostages with apologies for their mistreatment. “He met us on the steps of the door,” Selman wrote. “He appeared not pleased.” They were fired on the spot.
    Broughton’s jaunt netted Congress a £500 loss once reparations to aggrieved merchants were tabulated (not counting a £2,000 damage claim from the Charlottetown mayor). Conceding that he was “not a competent judge” of these matters and “had no time to attend them,” Washington gave up trying to manage schooner operations. His plea to Congress to accelerate the creation of prize courts signified his frustration with finances and a fresh pragmatism about their importance: sailors needed to know they’d get their prize money.
    Clearly no expedition led by such “indolent and inactive souls” as Broughton and Selman could succeed. This applied also to the general’s land commanders, most of whom had been appointed for political reasons of “sectional balancing” and who in their inexperience were as inept as they were overconfident. Till battle distinguished the true fighters, reputation and bluster were the main credentials recommending officers for leadership positions. Two men who possessed these qualities in excess helmed a pair of ships out of Plymouth that fall.
    Rhode Islander Sion Martindale, a rumored participant in the
Gaspee
raid, complained about his boat from the start. More than 120 feet long with ten cannon and ten swivel guns,
Washington
was the biggest of the Continental schooners. Already far over budget, Martindale requested more firepower, a top surgeon, a fife-and-drum crew, and a last-minute refit of the ship from schooner to brigantine. Brigs carried square sails, schooners wedge-shaped sails in a fore-andaft rig; brigantines combined the two for a square-rigger’s speed before a favorable wind and a schooner’s maneuverability in contrary winds.
    Washington wondered if these demands meant Martindale intended to take on enemy warships rather than stick to the mission of seizing unarmed transports. He needn’t have worried. Launched late in November after weeks of delay,
Washington
compiled a record of disputed captures, a brief refusal of the crew to sail until warmer clothing was issued, and much grumbling from its officers about payment for their one legitimate prize of a load of hay, all in a mere eight days of service that ended in capture