Dud’s Guns vs. Lindsey’s guts

No one knows what happened to America’s first hero

Daniel F. Harrington
Posted 6/12/15

Every story needs a good villain and 243 years ago the British dropped a big one on us. His name was Dudingston. His job? Preventing piracy on Narragansett Bay, or, in layman’s terms, shaking …

This item is available in full to subscribers.

Please log in to continue

E-mail
Password
Log in

Dud’s Guns vs. Lindsey’s guts

No one knows what happened to America’s first hero

Posted

Every story needs a good villain and 243 years ago the British dropped a big one on us. His name was Dudingston. His job? Preventing piracy on Narragansett Bay, or, in layman’s terms, shaking down every merchant he could catch.

 Lieutenant William Dudingston, 31, and his dreaded ship the HMS Gaspee would arbitrarily halt, inspect and often seize the cargo of Rhode Island ships at will. And he did it all in the name of fairness and taxation. Think of him as an IRS agent, mob boss, and angry traffic cop all rolled into one.

He wore a gold-trimmed cap and had a proclivity for rum.

The governor of Rhode Island repeatedly challenged the Crown to check Dudingston’s increasingly brazen behavior but the requests were largely ignored. So on he went.

Until he met our heroes.

The first was Captain Benjamin Lindsey who skippered a packet sloop called the Hannah. He had had enough. Returning from New York on June 9, 1772 he was greeted in Newport with cannon fire from the Gaspee after refusing Dudingston’s command to strike his flag. Then, trusting “The Dud” knew more about extortion than navigation, Lindsey led him on a four hour chase up Narragansett Bay.  It was the Dud’s guns versus Lindsey’s guts.

 And brains.

Lindsey skillfully piloted his ship toward Pawtuxet Cove and specifically to a menacing sandbar, trusting  the heavy Gaspee and its rum-fueled captain would run aground. They did.

But Lindsey didn’t stop there. He sailed north to Providence and immediately informed fellow merchant John Brown  about the sitting Dud. At dusk, Brown sent a town crier through the streets of Providence and assembled a raiding party consisting mostly of tavern-friendly professional men.

Rowing to the doomed ship in long boats the Patriots reached the Gaspee around midnight, surprising the British.

Captain Abraham Whipple spoke first for the Rhode Islanders, summoning Dudingston: “I am sheriff of Kent county, Goddamn you. I have a warrant to apprehend you, Goddamn you; so surrender, Goddamn you.”  It was a classic Rhode Island greeting!

Then a shot rang out. Dudingston fell when a ball hit him five inches below his navel. “Good God, I am done for!” he cried.

 And then a miracle. As the Dud lay bleeding to death a raider stepped forward. It was 21 year old physician - and genius - John Mawney, who preformed emergency, life-saving, surgery on him. Dudingston was so astonished he offered the doctor he would never see again a gold buckle. The humble Mawney refused it, but instead, accepted a silver one. 

The Rhode Islanders then set the Gaspee aflame and the warship exploded, lighting up Narragansett Bay as never before – or since.

King George III was furious and offered huge rewards for the capture of the rebels. Inquires were made and nooses were fashioned, but in the end, not one name was produced as thousands of Rhode Islanders remained true to silence.

The burning of the Gaspee would steel the resolve of all the colonies and inspire the Boston Tea Party a mere eighteen months later. In 1922, The New York Times memorably editorialized that the boldness of the Gaspee incident made The Boston Tea Party look, in comparison, like a tea party.

Meanwhile, back in Great Britain, Dudingston would survive court martial for losing his ship, receive a full disability pension, live another 45 years and become a Rear Admiral. (He probably had a low-numbered license plate, too!)

One man remains lost to history.

No one knows what happened to America’s first hero, Benjamin Lindsey. The most wanted man in the world quickly disappeared and dissolved into time.  We’ve never found his resting place because he was likely buried at sea, and so the dashing man eludes us still; although some say you can still hear him rousing the Hannah when the fog of Narragansett Bay is unusually thick…

Not all have forgotten. Through the ages noble Rhode Islanders have named their daughters “Hannah” in honor of the little ship that long ago led a fledgling young country toward independence and helped create the finest nation ever born of man. And her name is still sweet, for it echoes the refrain of liberty and recalls the powerful truth that “God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things that are mighty.”

Editor’s note: Daniel F. Harrington is President of Chartwell Investment Services based in Rumford. He is a regular contributor to the Providence Journal and a version of this story appeared in the June 2 edition of the paper. To receive a free mp3 copy of his new song “Hannah” email him at danielharrington@yahoo.com.

Comments

No comments on this item Please log in to comment by clicking here