The BoRIA Post

In December 1775, 250 years ago, one-third of Jamestown was burned by British forces under

Capt. James Wallace of the HMS Rose. The event is often portrayed as an act of imperial barbarism visited upon virtuous patriots defending freedom. Yet, newly uncovered evidence challenges this familiar narrative of victimization, revealing a more complex story of opposite conceptions of freedom by class and race, fighting a civil war shaped by economic self-interest, logistics and retaliation.

The background lies in the earlier imperial crisis leading to the Colonial protest of the Boston Tea

Party in 1773. Britain imposed the draconian Coercive Acts to restore order while also paying for the costs of Colonial administration. Loyalist and former Massachusetts Gov. Thomas Hutchinson lamented their severity, remarking “they are so severe, that if I had been upon the spot I would have … moderated them.” One consequence was the deployment of 11,000 troops to Boston whose survival depended on constant provisioning from surrounding regions. Support for the rebellion in Jamestown initially was weak. Most supported the crown, profiting from selling produce to British ships. Authorities guaranteed repayment for “whatever charges and demands they may have against the Army.” Farmers, such as John Martin, frequently were seen aboard British vessels delivering goods and socializing with Wallace.

The Rev. Ezra Stiles estimated only “perhaps a dozen or 20 families” left the island for the mainland, the rest remaining throughout the war. Hutchinson owned one farm on the island “covered with sheep and horned cattle” providing “beyond comparison, the best place in any of the Colonies.” Wallace’s orders reflected Britain’s strategic priorities. Initially tasked with suppressing smuggling and collecting taxes, he was later instructed to interdict gunpowder, suppress rebel fire, and above all secure provisions for Boston. Recognizing that “battles are won by soldiers, but wars are won by logistics,” Britain prioritized provisions for their besieged military in Boston. Rebels, in turn, subverted regional supplies, removing livestock and firing on ships. British reprisals followed. In September 1775, Adm. Thomas Graves ordered Wallace “not only to take or destroy Rebels at Sea but to lay Waste and set fire to those towns on the sea coast that shelter pirates.” In Stonington, Conn., rebels refused to sell livestock and fired upon Wallace and he cannonaded the town. In Newport, rebels removed 1,000 sheep and 50 cattle in October to thwart him, prompting threats to bombard the city. Bristol suffered heavily when rebels refused to sell livestock. Wallace fired on houses for more than an hour, destroying major buildings. He later admonished town officials, “Why they did not answer my summons, that my intentions were friendly? … Had they given me fair answers not a gun would have been fired.” Days later, Falmouth, Maine, was condemned by Graves for supplying rebel troops. He ordered “the most vigorous efforts to burn the town and destroy the shipping.”

Jamestown became the next showdown. In October, rebels removed hundreds of sheep and cattle to the mainland to stymie the British. On Dec. 10, Wallace landed, apparently intending to provide promissory notes for livestock as elsewhere. However, 50 armed rebels lay in wait. Rebel accounts are notably silent on who initiated the violence, attributing the burning simply to British cruelty.

British naval records, by contrast, are explicit. Capt. James Ayscough of the sloop HMS Swan noted: “Landed at Conanicut about 3 in the morning to get cattle. Was attacked by a party of rebels behind stone walls etc. Employed till daylight attacking the rebels and burning the houses and driving the cattle.” The rebels initiated the attack before dawn. Hutchinson, whose tenants witnessed the events, wrote bluntly, “The Conanicut people killed Wallace’s boatswain. He ordered a party ashore which killed 5 men, burnt 13 houses, one belonging to me, and brought off 50 head of cattle.” Stiles confirmed the killing of a British officer, though perhaps mistook the timing as midday instead of before dawn. The “200 marines, sailors and negroes at the East Ferry” marched to West Ferry and back, burning “almost every house on each side,” 15 in all, almost one-third of the dwellings. Rebels met them at the crossroads where they “killed one officer and wounded 7 or 8.” Eight rebels were taken captive but released the following day.

In the chaos, Martin was mortally wounded in the stomach and Hutchinson’s home was torched.

Martha Grinnell stated years later the British had “fired a volley of fire across into the house …

wounding her arm, the scar thereof remaining to this day.” The Newport Mercury reported plundering of beds, clothing and furniture: “Some women, we are told, were stripped of some of their best clothes they had on,” a profound assault on social status in 18th century Colonial culture. The consequences were decisive. The rebel attack killed one British officer, but triggered the loss of homes, livelihoods and territory for Jamestown’s rebels who had to flee, unable to return until the British evacuation in 1779. A week later, Rhode Island rebel authorities reversed their policy and agreed to “supply the said ships with provisions.” Wallace’s campaign had succeeded for now.

Peter Fay is a BoRIA board member representing the Jamestown Historical Society.