John Barry: Father of the American Navy

From merchant activities in the West Indies to heading naval battles during the American Revolution, Barry has rightfully earned this unofficial title.

A portrait of John Barry by Wilfred Israel Duphiney. Barry commanded the brig Lexington during the American Revolution. Public Domain

The Irish-American captain looked down from his substantial height of 6 feet 4 inches on the surrendering British commander. The captain’s burly, blood-soaked shoulders framed his frowning brows and piercing hazel eyes. This man—who had captured numerous British vessels, single-handedly put down three mutinies, and refused to surrender his ship even when he was wounded and his ship damaged—this man, despite his ferociousness in war, was still a gentleman. As the British captain bowed and offered his sword as part of the ceremony of surrender, Capt. John Barry took the sword, flashing in the dim cabin, then paused and said, “I return it to you, Sir. You have merited it, and your King ought to give you a better ship. Here is my cabin, at your service. Use it as your own.”

This magnanimous gesture expresses something of the greatness of the man: Lion-hearted in battle, with a sparkling sense of humor and a flaring Irish temper, Barry also had a compassionate side and religious devotion, as evidenced by his practice of faith and his involvement with the Charitable Captains of Ships Club for the relief of widows and orphans of sailors. Whatever he did, he did boldly and determinedly.

From Cabin Boy to Captain

John Barry was born in a cottage on Our Lady’s Island in the Tacumshane Parish of County Wexford, Ireland, in 1745. When his father, a tenant farmer, was evicted by his British landlord, the family had to move to Rosslare. There, Barry witnessed the example of his uncle, Nicholas Barry, who was captain of a fishing vessel.

His uncle inspired Barry to pursue a life at sea. Starting as a cabin boy, he worked his way through the ranks until he became captain of his own vessel in 1766, the schooner Barbados. At the helm of the Barbados and other vessels, Barry began merchant work, cutting the waves between Philadelphia—which he adopted as his home–and the West Indies. He earned a name for himself as a very able seamen—on one occasion even swallowing up 237 miles in the space of 24 hours.

A dedicated Catholic, Barry married his first wife, Mary Clary, in Old St. Joseph’s chapel in Philadelphia on Oct. 31, 1767. But tragedy lurked not far behind. Mary passed away in 1774, at the age of 29, while Barry was at sea. Like his first marriage, Barry’s second marriage a few years later, to Sarah Keen Austin in 1777, did not result in any biological children. But the Barrys generously decided to adopt and raise two boys.

From Merchant to Patriot

John Barry (C) receiving commodore commission from George Washington. Public Domain

The experienced captain eagerly responded to the trumpet blast of duty when the Colonies went to war with Great Britain. Barry’s first task was to outfit the first Continental Navy ships, a mission he completed with energy and alacrity. As a reward, he received a captain’s commission in the Continental Navy on March 14, 1776 and the command of the American brig Lexington.

From athwart the quarterdeck of the Lexington, Barry brought about one of the first victories of the American Navy when he captured the British tender Edward. Barry reported to Congress:

“Gentlemen: I have the pleasure to acquaint you, that at 1:00 p.m. this day, I fell in with the sloop, Edward belonging to the Liverpool frigate. They killed two of our men, and wounded two more. We shattered her in a terrible manner as you will see. I shall give you a particular account of the powder that was taken out of her, as well as my proceedings in general. I have the pleasure to acquaint you that all our people behaved with much courage.”

Barry further demonstrated his value and loyalty to his adopted country when he refused to turn over his ship, the Effingham, in exchange for a bribe and a commission in the Royal Navy. Evidently, the British recognized Barry’s sterling quality and wanted him on their side. The Effingham ultimately had to be scuttled to avoid British capture during the assault on Philadelphia, and Barry turned his attention to helping defend his hometown—again, with admirable success.

More adventures followed: Barry captured three British ships using only a few rowboats and barges and obtained intelligence for Washington. Even a man of Barry’s stature cannot win every battle, however.

In 1778, Barry’s 32-gun ship Raleigh was sighted and pursued by a larger British flotilla until, finally, Barry was cornered in Penobscot Bay in Maine and had to abandon ship. He attempted—unsuccessfully—to destroy the ship to prevent it falling into British hands. But he did manage to rescue two-thirds of his crew and to avoid a formal surrender.

A few years later, in 1781, Barry was sailing the frigate Alliance off the coast of Newfoundland when he made contact with two British ships. Barry chased down the two British sloops and opened fire upon them. But then, the wind turned against the Alliance, and the advantage turned to the British. The two sloops turned on the stalled American ship, flaying her with blistering canon fire from both quarters. The Alliance took heavy damage and was soon hard-pressed.

A painting of the frigate Alliance by Capt. Matthew Parke. The continental frigate Alliance passing a Boston lighthouse on its return from France in 1780. Public Domain

Barry continued to command the defense of his ship from the quarterdeck even after he was struck in the shoulder by a grapeshot. Only when the blood loss made him faint did he agree to go belowdecks for surgery. The continued bombardment from the British eventually shot the American flag to pieces, shreds fluttering in the wind and smoke. Barry’s second-in-command, Lt. Hacker went belowdecks to urge Barry to surrender. “I have to report the ship in frightful condition, Sir,” said Hacker. “The rigging is much cut, damage everywhere great, many men killed and wounded, and we labor under great disadvantage for want of wind. Have I permission to strike our colors?”

“No Sir, the thunder!” Barry retorted. “If this ship cannot be fought without me, I will be brought on deck; to your duty, Sir.”

So the Americans hoisted another flag and fought on. At that moment, the wind changed, and the frigate was again mobile. It turned and let loose a withering broadside against the two smaller ships, forcing them to surrender.

Life After the War

After the war, Barry returned to working as a maritime trader. But he was called back into service during some difficulties with France and Barbary pirates in the 1790s. Barry received the distinction of being selected senior captain of the Federal Navy. He supervised the construction of new frigates, including his flagship the USS United States. With the title of commodore, he sailed against the French during the Quasi-War and, later, was placed as head commander of all the U.S. ships in the West Indies. He ended his career back ashore in Philadelphia, where he died in 1803.

But Barry’s service to the country didn’t end with his own exploits: He was responsible for the training of so many young officers who went on to distinguish themselves in U.S. naval history that he has often been termed the “Father of the Navy.” Barry’s legacy lived on long after his final ship had sailed.

Dr. Benjamin Rush, a signer of the Declaration of Independence, summed up Barry’s life with these words: “He fought often and once bled in the cause of freedom, but his habits of War did not lessen in him the peaceful virtues which adorn private life.”

To this day, Commodore John Barry—a man who, through the unforgiving winds and waves of the sea and the scalding heat of battle, helped to forge a nation—is honored with a statue in Franklin Square in Washington.

Commodore John Barry Memorial in Franklin Square. National Park Service. Public Domain

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