A Sad Annapolis Sailing Tale, the Burning of the Peggy Stewart
It’s a sight no one wants to witness—the burning of a beautiful wooden ship, a two-masted brig with full sails hanging from the yards on a calm night. But when this pivotal event happened in Annapolis 250 years ago this month, the flaming wreckage was met not with tears, but with cheers on the shores of the Severn River.
Cheers for a burning ship?
A Chesapeake-built merchant ship? How could that be? Certainly, no shipwright would cheer such a sad spectacle. But shipwrights weren’t on the shores that evening. It was an angry mob of patriots for the American cause, the Sons of Liberty. A mob fueled by a hot mix of politics, taxes, ambition, arrogance, and some might say, outside agitators. It was the mob that forced Annapolis merchant, Anthony Stewart, to burn his ship, the Peggy Stewart, for importing a cargo of tea, and paying the King’s tax on that tea.
Stewart knew full well that the American colonies had agreed to ban the importation of tea in the wake of the Boston Tea Party the previous December. Stewart paid the tax anyway. That fateful payment led to five days of hot discussions among Annapolitans on how to respond to Stewart’s defiance of the patriot cause. At first, the city’s elite thought an apology from Stewart would be sufficient punishment and Stewart could simply burn the tea.
More hot-blooded patriots, including political hopeful Mathias Hammond, demanded a tougher punishment. Ultimately a mob led by Baltimore’s Dr. Charles Warfield confronted Stewart at his home on Hanover Street. Warfield demanded that Stewart burn his ship “or you’ll hang before your own door!” Some say the mob even erected a crude gallows to make the point more obvious.
Stewart got the message. The next day, October 19, 1774, Stewart ran his ship aground at Windmill Point (where the U.S. Naval Academy’s Luce Hall now stands) and put her to the torch. The characters in the painting by Jack Manley Rosé are watching the ship burn to her waterline.
In Stewart’s defense, he hadn’t ordered the tea. He had sent the Peggy Stewart to London hoping to sell the leaky vessel. When no buyers appeared, Captain Richard Jackson arranged for a profitable cargo of 53 indentured servants to ship to Annapolis.
But during those negotiations, the London-based agent for Stewart’s Annapolis competitor, Williams & Co., secreted the tea aboard the Peggy Stewart. The Williams agent knew he was causing trouble because he labeled the tea as “linens,” hoping to smuggle the tea past King George’s customs agents. Captain Jackson saw through the ruse. When he arrived in Annapolis, he promptly warned Stewart about the dangerous cargo. The Annapolis customs agent had even warned Stewart not to pay the tax.
But pay the tax he did. He paid the price. (The servants were unloaded under the watchful eye of the Sons of Liberty to make sure no tea left the ship.)
It didn’t help that Stewart was a loud and proud supporter of King George III at a time when the American Revolution was about to explode. After the burning, Stewart was forced to flee Annapolis. He enlisted in the loyalist cause and ultimately relocated to Nova Scotia.
Note: Thanks to Glenn Campbell, retired Historic Annapolis historian, for the photo of the Rosé painting, which once graced the tavern at Carvel Hall (aka the William Paca House). The painting is in storage and in need of restoration.
About the Author: Tom Guay runs the water-quality monitoring, floating classroom, and Operation Osprey programs for the Severn River Association. He is also a musicianer for the Eastport Oyster Boys and author of the historical novel, “Chesapeake Bound,” due out with McBooks Press soon.
