Thursday, January 26, 2017

A Revolutionary Kegger: January 5, 1778

A quick note: my name is Mike Romero, and I'm a Historic Interpreter at Colonial Williamsburg.  The postings I make on this site are my own personal opinions and research, and do not necessarily reflect the views of Colonial Williamsburg.  With that said, enjoy the read!


In January of 1778, the city of Philadelphia, PA was under British occupation.  During this time, Francis Hopkinson, Chairman of the Navy Board, entertained multiple suggestions on how to harass British naval forces in the Delaware River.  A suggestion from David Bushnell (designer of the submarine Turtle that had been put to use in New York two years previous) was put to use: kegs of gunpowder attached to buoy casks would be floated down the Delaware towards the British ships at anchor, where they would hopefully explode as improvised river mines.  Unfortunately, the scheme did not work as planned.  The British ships had already anchored in such a way to prevent damage from chunks of ice floating down the river, which also served to protect them from the mines.  Other than two curious boys who were killed investigating the mines too closely, no damage was done.  Once the threat of the mines had been identified, however, the British poured small arms and broadside fire alike into the Delaware, not allowing even a single keg-like object to remain afloat.  The incident became known as the "Battle of the Kegs."

A comical account of the action can be found in the Philadelphia Ledger: 

"Extract of a letter from Philadelphia, Jan. 9, 1778. - The city has been lately entertained with a most astonishing instance of the activity, bravery, and military skill of the royal navy of Great Britain. The affair is somewhat particular and deserves your notice. Some time last week, two boys observed a keg of singular construction, floating in the river opposite to the city. They got into a small boat, and in attempting to obtain the keg, it burst with a great explosion, and blew up the unfortunate boys. On Monday last, several kegs of a like construction made their appearance. An alarm was immediately spread through the city. Various reports prevailed, filling the city and royal troops with consternation. Some reported that these kegs were filled with armed rebels, who were to issue forth in the dead of the night, as did the Grecians of old from their wooden horse at the siege of Troy, and take the city by surprise, asserting that they had seen the points of their bayonets through the bung-holes of the kegs. Others said they were charged with the most inveterate combustibles, to be kindled by secret machinery, and setting the whole Delaware in flames, were to consume all the shipping in the harbor; whilst others asserted they were constructed by art magic, would, of themselves, ascend the wharves in the night-time, and roll all flaming through the streets of the city, destroying every thing in their way. Be this as it may, certain it is that the shipping in the harbor, and all the wharves in the city, were fully manned. The battle began, and it was surprising to behold the incessant blaze that was kept up against the enemy, the kegs. Both officers and men exhibited the most unparalleled skill and bravery on the occasion, whilst the citizens stood gazing as solemn witnesses of their prowess. From the Roebuck, and other ships of war, whole broadsides were poured into the Delaware. In short, not a wandering chip, stick, or drift log, but felt the vigor of the British arms. The action began about sunrise, and would have been completed with great success by noon, had not an old market-woman, coming down the river with provisions, unfortunately let a small keg of butter fall overboard, which, as it was then ebb tide, floated down to the scene of action. At the sight of this unexpected reinforcement of the enemy, the battle was renewed with fresh fury, and the firing was incessant till evening closed the affair. The kegs were either totally demolished, or obliged to fly, as none of them have shown their heads since. It is said that his Excellency Lord Howe has despatched a swift-sailing packet, with an account of this victory, to the court at London. In a word, Monday, the fifth of January, seventeen hundred and seventy-eight, must ever be distinguished in history for the memorable battle of the kegs."

Hopkinson would go on to write a propaganda ballad/poem about the action, frequently sung to the tune of Yankee Doodle:

Gallants, attend, and hear a friend
Trill forth harmonious ditty,
Strange things I'll tell that late befell
In Philadelphia city.
 'Twas early day, as poets say,
 Just when the sun was rising,
 A soldier stood on log of wood
 And saw a sight surprising.

As, in amaze, he stood to gaze;
The truth can't be denied, sirs,
He spied a score of kegs or more,
Come floating down the tide, sirs.
 A sailor, too, in jerkin blue,
 The strange appearance viewing,
 First damned his eyes in great surprise,
 Then said, "Some mischief's brewing."

"The kegs now hold the rebel bold
Packed up like pickled herring;
And they've come down to attack the town
In this new way of ferrying."
 The soldier flew, the sailor, too,
 And, scared almost to death, sirs,
 Wore out their shoes to spread the news,
 And ran till out of breath, sirs.

Now up and down, throughout the town,
Most frantic scenes were acted;
And some ran here and some ran there,
Like men almost distracted.
 Some "Fire" cried, which some denied,
 But said the earth had quaked;
 And girls and boys, with hideous noise,
 Ran through the town half-naked.

Lord William, he, snug as a flea,
Lay all this time a-snoring
Nor dreamed of harm as he lay warm
In bed with Mrs. Loring
 Now, in a fright he starts upright
 Awakened by such a clatter;
 He rubs both eyes and boldly cries,
 "For God's sake, what's the matter?"

At his bedside he then espied
Sir Erskine at command, sirs;
Upon one foot he had a boot,
And t'other in his hand, sirs.
 "Arise!  Arise!"  Sir Erskine cries;
 "The rebels---more's the pity---
 Without a boat are all afloat,
 And ranged before the city."

"The motley crew, in vessels new
With Satan for their guide, sir,
Packed up in bags, or wooden kegs,
Come driving donwn the tide sir.
 Therefore, prepare for bloody war!
 Those kegs must all be routed,
 Or surely we despised shall be,
 And British courage doubted."

The royal band now ready stand
All ranged in dead array, sirs,
With stomach stout to see it out,
And make a bloody day, sirs.
 The cannons roar from shore to shore,
 The small arms make a rattle;
 Since wars began, I'm sure no man
 E'er saw so strange a battle.

The rebel vales, the rebel dales,
With rebel trees surrounded,
The distant woods, the hills and floods,
With rebel echoes sounded.
 The fish below swam to and fro,
 Attacked from every quarter-
 "Why sure," thought they, "the devil's to pay
 'Mongst folks above the water."

The kegs, 'tis said, tho' strongly made
Of rebel staves and hoops, sirs,
Could not oppose the powerful foes,
The conquering British troops, sirs.
  From morn to night these men of might
  Displayed amazing courage,
  And when the sun was fairly down
  Returned to sup their porridge.

A hundred men, with each a pen,
Or more---upon my words, sirs,
It is most true---would be too few
Their valor to record, sirs,
  Such feats did they perform that day
  Upon those wicked kegs, sirs,
  That years to come, if they get home
  They'll make their boasts and brags, sirs.

This sounds like too much fun not to sing in the streets.  Who will join me on the chorus?


Sources:
Tim McGrath: Give Me A Fast Ship: The Continental Navy and America's Revolution at Sea
A Traditional Music Library: Battle of the Kegs
Stories of America: Battle of the Kegs
American Revolution.org: Battle of the Kegs
YouTube: Battle of the Kegs (Recorded by Oscar Brand)


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