Chesapeake vs Shannon: The Battle of Boston Harbor

Posted: June 1, 2026 | Author: | Filed under: Boston, New England | Leave a comment

[The Chesapeake] had become known as an unlucky ship… crews were reluctant to serve on it.

Broke was the captain of the Shannon, which was waiting outside Boston harbor for the USS Chesapeake, one of the six frigates designed for the new US Navy by Joshua Humphreys.

Broke sent Jason Lawrence, captain of the Chesapeake, a written challenge:

As the Chesapeake appears now ready for sea, I request you will do me the favour to meet the Shannon with her, ship to ship, to try the fortune of our respective flags. The Shannon mounts twenty-four guns upon her broadside and one light boat-gun; 18 pounders upon her maindeck, and 32-pounder carronades upon her quarterdeck and forecastle; and is manned with a complement of 300 men and boys, beside thirty seamen, boys, and passengers, who were taken out of recaptured vessels lately. I entreat you, sir, not to imagine that I am urged by mere personal vanity to the wish of meeting the Chesapeake, or that I depend only upon your personal ambition for your acceding to this invitation. We have both noble motives. You will feel it as a compliment if I say that the result of our meeting may be the most grateful service I can render to my country; and I doubt not that you, equally confident of success, will feel convinced that it is only by repeated triumphs in even combats that your little navy can now hope to console your country for the loss of that trade it can no longer protect. Favour me with a speedy reply. We are short of provisions and water, and cannot stay long here.

(that’s as condensed by James and Chamier 1837, Wikipedia tells me. Boldface mine).

Lawrence never got the letter, but he got the idea and sailed out anyway for a ship to ship duel.

Bostonians and their neighbours anticipated great results from the celebrated Lawrence and his crew. Local authorities reserved a space at the docks in expectation of accommodating the captured British man-of-war. Also plans were set in motion for a gala victory banquet. As the American warship moved down the harbour, citizens raced to vantage points to witness the fight. Crowds gathered on available heights from Lynn to Malden and from Cohasset to Scituate. A diarist likened the Salem crowds to swarms of bees. The more daring took to boats to follow the Chesapeake. A Boston newspaper reported the bay being covered with civilian craft of all kinds.

The battle happened on June 1, 1813. A Tuesday. June 1 is an auspicious day in British naval history, “the glorious first of June.” The ships met around half past five pm:

Captain Lawrence realised that his ship’s speed would take it past Shannon and ordered a ‘pilot’s luff’. This was a small and brief turn to windward which would make the sails shiver and reduce the ship’s speed. Just after Chesapeake began this limited turn away from Shannon, she had her means of manoeuvring entirely disabled as a second round of accurate British fire caused more losses, most critically to the men and officers manning Chesapeake‘s quarterdeck. Here the helmsmen were killed by a 9-pounder gun that Broke had ordered installed on the quarterdeck for that very purpose, and the same gun shortly afterwards shot away the wheel itself.

Damn I would not sleep easy as the helmsman if word came down they had a 9-pound cannonball just for killing me.

A funny illustration but the actual event must’ve been horrifying. Garry Wills, summarizing Henry Adams in Henry Adams and the Making of America says:

The battle that followed was surreally intense and brief.

Lawrence was killed by a musket shot, and the British boarded Chesapeake.

Broke himself led a charge against a number of the Americans who had managed to rally on the forecastle. Three American sailors, probably from the rigging, descended and attacked him. Taken by surprise, he killed the first, but the second hit him with a musket which stunned him, whilst the third sliced open his skull with a sabre or cutlass, knocking him to the deck. Before the sailor could finish Broke off, the American was bayoneted by a British Marine named John Hill. Shannon‘s crew rallied to the defence of their captain and carried the forecastle, killing the remaining Americans. Broke sat, dizzied and weak, on a carronade slide, and his head was bound up by William Mindham, who used his own neckerchief.

The engagement had lasted just ten minutes according to Shannon‘s log, or eleven minutes by Lieutenant Wallis’ watch. Broke more modestly claimed fifteen minutes in his official despatch. Shannon had lost 23 men killed, and had 56 wounded. Chesapeake had about 48 killed, including four lieutenants, the master and many other of her officers, and 99 wounded.

The Chesapeake and the American survivors were taken to Halifax:

Many officers were paroled to Halifax, but some began a riot at a performance of a patriotic song about Chesapeake‘s defeat. Parole restrictions were tightened: beginning in 1814, paroled officers were required to attend a monthly muster on Melville Island, and those who violated their parole were confined to the prison.

Chesapeake, after active service in the Royal Navy, was eventually sold at Portsmouth, England, for £500 in 1819 and broken up. Some of the timbers of Chesapeake were used in the construction of the Chesapeake Mill in Wickham, Hampshire.

The American captain Lawrence was killed:

He is probably best known today for his last words, “Don’t give up the ship!”, uttered during the capture of the Chesapeake. 

…

Captain Lawrence was buried in Halifax with full military honours; six British naval officers served as pallbearers

As for Broke:

Broke never again commanded a ship. The head wound from a cutlass blow, which had exposed the brain, had been very severe accompanied by great blood loss. Therapeutic bleeding, routinely employed at the time, was not performed by Shannon‘s surgeon Mr Alexander Jack, which was to Broke’s advantage. The report of the surgeon described the wound as “a deep cut on the parietal bone, extending from the top of the head … towards the left ear, [the bone] penetrated for at least three inches in length”.[65] Broke survived the wound into moderate old age (64 years), though he was debilitated. He suffered, to a greater or lesser extent, from headaches and other neurological problems for the rest of his life.

Yeah, his skull got split open and his brain was exposed, I would guess he had some headaches.

Sidequest: in his Naval History of the War of 1812 (quoted by Wills) Theodore Roosevelt says:

I had to look up Bayard. Confusing, because there was an American politician Nicholas Bayard who was active in the events of this era. But Roosevelt must mean Pierre Terrail, seigneur de Bayard, “the knight without fear and reproach.” This must be one of those references like Crillon that came from a time when everyone knew more about the heroes of chivalry. Bayard fought at lots of 16th century battles, including the Battle of the Spurs (the art of which is epic).

About his personal life, Wikipedia says he never married but he’s believed to have fathered a child.

Various hypotheses have been made about the identity of the mother: numerous clues lead to Bianca di Monferrato, the Duchess of Savoy, who was widowed when very young. This is supported by Bayard’s presence at that time in Piedmont and his statement that the child was noble and the daughter of a lady of great house.

(I swear, once you start noticing you see Savoy everywhere. That’s the Duchess on the left, painted by the Master of the Chapel of Crea.)

The hypothesis is strongly supported by Paul Ballaguy, while Camille Monnet categorically rejects it.

Let’s get those two on the pod!