
Pictured: Portrait of a Sailor, United Sates ca. 1800. Unknown artist, unknown sitter (sometimes identified as Paul Cuffee). Public Domain.
By Kellee Blake
On this very day, 250 years ago . . .
The rumblings from Lexington and Concord were fast moving toward an intercolonial explosion as members of a Second Continental Congress gathered in Philadelphia. Parliament had not officially addressed the grievances submitted by the First Continental Congress (1774) and the Second assembled to plan the next actions. Virginia delegates George Washington, Richard Bland, Benjamin Harrison, Richard Henry Lee, Edmund Pendleton, and Patrick Henry arrived in Benjamin Franklin’s town determined to stop British incursions, including unlawful seizures of Virginians’ property.
The British confiscation of property for real or perceived “violations” was a source of eternal grumble and nearly always a legal quagmire. These seizures became far more complicated when the “property” was in human lives, just as in the case of Shore sloops Betsey and Liberty (Revolutionary Shore May 1775 https://shoredailynews.com/headlines/the-revolutionary-shore-may-4-1775-the-case-for-liberty/).
One of the pressing issues in Liberty ‘s seizure related to the status of four enslaved men found aboard. Were they for sale in the slave trade? If so, they would be considered part of the seizure, subject to sale in Williamsburg, and the monies distributed to the HMS Magdalen’s capturing crew. If not for sale, the enslaved men still might be appropriated for some British use far from the homes they knew. The immediate future of these four souls sadly, but wholly, rested on the abilities of merchants Bowdoin and Smith to prove they were skilled enslaved watermen on a job.
The Liberty’s commanding voice belonged to enslaved “vessel master” and “skipper” Stephen from the “estate of Severn Eyre.” Also on board were two unnamed men defined only as the enslaved of John Bowdoin and Northampton planter Stephen Sampson claimed “Jack.” Trusted, talented, skilled and knowledgeable about countryside and waterways far beyond the Shore, these enslaved watermen and others like them were integral to the success of the Shore’s mercantile and social network.
The Smiths and Bowdoins collectively insisted the enslaved men be returned to them. They vigorously argued that the four were not part of the cargo or lading, but rather “WATERMEN WHO WERE PUT ON BOARD . . . TO NAVIGATE HER” from Hungars Creek across the Bay and up the James River to merchant Thomas Randolph at Chester Hill near Richmond.
Admiralty Judge and staunch Loyalist John Randolph pondered a weighty decision. Both parties had legitimate claims nestled in the knot of multiple sub-claimants and Randolph understood that lives, livelihoods, and local perception of British rule were on the table. Although most of his final decision favored the Crown, he determined that the enslaved men were the Shore watermen they claimed to be and should be “acquitted and restored to their owners.” Both sides were given permission to appeal. At the time, Randolph could not imagine that the British Vice Admiralty court in Williamsburg would never again meet or that he would soon forever flee Virginia for England, only to return for burial next to his patriot brother Peyton.
Many believed the Betsey and Liberty seizures were part of a directed campaign against Patriot leaders like John Bowdoin. Distrust of Virginia Governor Lord Dunmore grew even as the buzz from Patrick Henry’s stirring words grew louder in the marketplaces. Soon enough, thousands considered “liberty or death” when Virginia Governor Lord Dunmore issued a focused invitation to the enslaved to join his forces and be FREE. It was a unique call to independence and adroit enslaved mariners like Stephen would help lead way. Even the sloop Liberty—now in British hands–would be used in ways the Shoremen never imagined.
Join WESR on the 4th of each month to learn more about Virginia and the Shore’s role in the War for Independence. Welcome to the Revolutionary Shore!













