The New England Fisherman: Entwined with America 

The history of New England fishermen is one that is passed down over early morning small talk at portside breakfast joints, through faded pictures taped to the walls of institutional tackle shops, online message boards, and a fair share of lies and tall tales whispered on the docks and beaches. Stories of legendary catches, adventures, pitfalls and friendships tell the history of the local fisherman. Beneath layers of flannel, surf tops and splash gear, one can sense a patriotic twang from these watermen, and for good reason. The history of New England fishing extends much further beyond fish tales traded over morning coffee—to the birth of our nation. When war broke out in the American colonies, not only soldiers took to the muskets—many fishermen did, too. The salt-caked New England mariners spent their days battling the elements, but when the British Empire tightened its grip upon oceanic thoroughfares, these wind-whipped men found their calloused hands destined for guns and axes rather than linen hand lines and hooks. 

New Englanders were already at wit’s end with the British long before the shot heard ’round the world was fired at Lexington. New England fishermen relied upon their access to coastal waters; however, through British taxation of international trade and the Navigation Acts, many of them were forced to import and export through England. Therefore, when the British Crown began to impose limits on fishing rights in New England waters, it was more than a slap to the face; it was a warning that the British would control every international waterway, and could effectively put a squeeze on the New England fisherman as tight as they pleased. (A solid piece of advice even to this day would be – don’t tell a salty old New Englander “Hey, you can’t fish there anymore.”) 

These men weren’t just fishermen; they were capable watermen who could read the local ocean. They were family men who were now faced with food being taken off their table, and money out of their pockets. They were set to be a perfect demographic for guerrilla naval warfare. Many became privateers—legal pirates approved by the Continental Congress—who transformed their fishing skiffs into war vessels. Others became smugglers, spies, and overall saboteurs. The British were now up against a fleet of savvy and cunning fishermen, fighting them in their own backyard. Their vessels were small and quick, able to weave in and out of British supply routes, capturing enemy ships and bringing back precious goods that could win the war. 

One of the clearest examples of fishermen-turned-patriots came in May 1776, when Captain James Mugford of Marblehead, Massachusetts, captured the British ship Hope, loaded with 1,500 barrels of powder and arms. Mugford, who had once been forced into British Naval service—before defecting to fight for the colonies, would quickly rise as one of the most feared privateers from Boston to Casco Bay.

After capturing Hope, Mugford ran his ship Franklin aground in Boston Harbor. What followed was one of the war’s bloodiest small-scale naval battles. Fourteen British longboats and 200 armed sailors swarmed the grounded vessel. Mugford waited until they were close, then fired his guns—sinking two of the attackers outright. The British closed in.

What followed was described as brutal, hand-to-hand combat. Mugford was said to be everywhere at once, slashing and shouting across the deck. His crew used axes, pikes, and spears to hold the British back. Mugford was shot in the chest during the battle. “I am a dead man; don’t give up the vessel; you will be able to beat them off,” he cried, before dying. 

Fueled by his sacrifice, the crew fought on and drove the British off. Seventy redcoats were slain. Not one member of Franklin’s crew, aside from Mugford, was lost. Colonel Joseph Ward, later wrote: “If the prize ship had been fully loaded with gold and diamonds, it would not have caused equal joy nor been of equal value to the United States. The name of Captain Mugford ought to be immortalized in America.”

Another Marblehead man would rise to naval prominence during the Revolution. Captain John Manley spent most of his life fishing Stellwagen Bank and running merchant trade ships in the Atlantic, just like many of his townspeople. In October of 1775, George Washington would give Manley command over a schooner, Lee, as part of a secret naval force intended to intercept supplies. A month later, Manley would capture the British supply ship Nancy, which revamped the diminishing rebel armory.

Manley would go on to capture more than 30 British vessels and captain several ships for the Continental Navy. He was known as a daring and aggressive captain, often acting without support. This would eventually lead to his capture, and imprisonment at Mill Prison in England. Mill Prison was known as a notoriously harsh prison and housed mostly American sailors and privateers. After spending several months digging a tunnel underneath the prison, Manley and his comrades crawled to freedom before sneaking across the border to France. From France, Manley would go on to sail back to America and continue fighting the British. Known today as one of the most important maritime leaders, and the most successful captain of the early American Navy, Manley was a fisherman turned privateer, captain, POW, and war hero.

If John Manley is credited as the first hammer in the American Navy, then Nicholas Broughton was the first dagger. A sneaky, cunning, rule-bending captain, Broughton commanded ships for Washington before the colonies had a flag to fly, starting off as a successful raider outside of Boston Harbor.

By fall of 1775, Washington was quietly commissioning naval plunders in New England waters. Given that there was not yet a Congress, his orders were kept secret, and they tiptoed the line of legality. Broughton would become a very successful ship raider, capturing coal and military supply ships for colonial use. Broughton would write to Washington, telling him “No ship passed between Boston and Halifax that is not within range of our gun”. His skill and dexterity as a captain would lead to Washington assigning him an important secret mission to the North. 

The Americans had received word of British ships passing in and out of Nova Scotia, giving supplies to British loyalists on the island. Nova Scotia had become a redcoat  stronghold. Several rich and powerful loyalists from Boston had married off their daughters to redcoat military and government officials on Nova Scotia. Washington was now faced with a redcoat problem to the North. Broughton and fellow fisherman John Selman were given “less than sanctioned” orders to raid the ships and disrupt the supply lines. Broughton and Selman pointed their schooners towards Canadian waters. 

However, once arriving in Charlottetown, PEI, Broughton’s aggressive instincts would take over. After successfully raiding the supply ships, Broughton would make landfall.  Once on land, the ambitious Captain proceeded to capture and take prisoner the acting governor, the colonial treasurer, and several British loyalist officers.

Upon returning to Boston loaded with the spoils of a raid, and several unexpected prisoners, Broughton was scolded for his rogue mission. Continental leaders worried that there would be political backlash; however, Broughton’s effectiveness was never questioned. Although Washington rebuked Broughton and made a point to address his rogue missions, it is reported that behind closed doors, Washington praised Broughton for his aggression and skill. Bostonian and prevalent patriot leader, John Adams, publicly praised Broughton. Personally, I like to imagine the old Sage of Mount Vernon fighting back a mischievous grin when hearing of Broughton’s intrepid mission.  

Fishing and living along the waters of New England is a privilege—a privilege Americans have been fighting for since the thought of being a sovereign nation was still very much in the infancy stages.  From the rocky coasts of Maine to the southern sandy beaches of Cape Cod and beyond; in harbors, marinas, inlets and coves; over the hum of modern outboards, one can feel the heartbeat of the New England fishermen. When you stop to take in the true beauty of our coast, the life that fills our waters, and the longstanding close-knit community that makes up the New England fisherman, you begin to understand why simple men felt compelled to defend it from the most heavily armed and imposing naval force the world had ever seen, in small wooden fishing boats. 

Source: https://onthewater.com/the-new-england-fisherman-entwined-with-america

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