Who Built "Prince Regent" and What Did She do?: Schooner Days CCXXIV (224)

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JOHN DENNIS was probably the master builder of the Prince Regent, whose ancient bones have been uncovered in Navy Bay, at Kingston, after submersion for over a century. So many inquiries have been made regarding this old man-of-war—the only one launched here in Toronto—that it seems necessary to tell more of her story than was given last month. She was launched from the Government dockyard, immediately in front of the present Royal York Hotel, in the year 1812.

We know he built the Toronto Yacht at the mouth of the Humber 13 years before, and we know he later built the Royal George and many another at the Kingston navy yard. So it is likely he came back to York when it was decided to build warships here. His descendants live in Mount Dennis to this day.

Captain Gray, assistant deputy quartermaster general, had reported to Sir George Prevost on January 29th, 1812: "There is every inducement to build a new schooner at York, as . . . the Toronto having been broken up here furnishes an immediate supply of ironwork and a variety of other articles. . . . The general (Brock) proposes putting the superintendence of the work into the hands of the person who commanded the Toronto, who seems to be in every way qualified for the task of building and commanding the new schooner."

The Toronto, a schooner used as a government yacht for the conveyance of officials, was, as said, built by John Dennis in 1799. She was not commanded by him but by Lieut. Fish, of the Provincial Marine. Dennis was not a naval officer, but a very competent builder. Fish was not a builder and his competence as a naval officer may be gauged from the fact that at the end of one season's command of the new Prince Regent he was taken off to serve as a subordinate in the Royal George, and a naval lieutenant was put in his place.

Capt. Gray "did not concede that there is one man of this division fit to command a ship of war," which was a nasty crack for the Provincial Marine. Whether it was deserved or not, Capt. Spilsbury, of the newly arrived officers of the Royal Navy, was given charge of the schooner for her second season.

The Prince Regent bore across Lake Ontario the troops that fought at Queenston Heights, including the immortal York volunteers whose "pushing on" were Brock's dying words. She brought American prisoners of war back after the battle, in company with the commercial schooner Governor Simcoe, commanded by Capt. Richardson; and very late in the year, almost up to the Christmas time, she was busy bringing cannon, soldiers and war stores up from Kingston to York (the later Toronto) and the "western front," which at this stage of the war was the Niagara peninsula. She had a crew of about seventy men, including thirty-five saltwater seamen from the Royal Navy, some local sailors from the Provincial Marine, and a subaltern, sergeant, drummer and twenty privates from the Royal Newfoundland Regiment, acting as marines.

So late did the Prince Regent ply in 1812 that she was frozen in here in York along with the small brig Duke of GIoucester, which was laid up for an extensive overhaul. When ice bound all the lake harbors, work was begun here on the building of the Sir Isaac Brock. This vessel was to have been a three-masted ship, of the rating of a sloop-of-war—vastly different from the one-masted little sloops of commerce. She was to have thirty guns, principally 18-pounders, which had to be brought on sleighs from Quebec. Until her full complement should arrive it was proposed to arm her with the 12-pounder carronades of the Prince Regent, taking these out of the latter vessel and giving her, in their place, the small 6-pounders which had been carried ashore from the dismantled Duke of Gloucester.

Whether this was actually done is not clear. The Prince Regent sailed from York on April 24th, 1813, as soon as Kingston Harbor was clear of ice, to bring up further supplies to the York Garrison, and the new ship being built here. Three days later the new ship was in flames, her guns had been spiked; and the invaders had to content themselves with the gutted Gloucester. They towed the latter in triumph to Sackett's Harbor, but beyond renaming her the York, were never able to make any use of her. A squat 12-pounder carronade, supposed improbably to be one of her guns, is in Sackett's Harbor waterfront park to this day. It is said to have been thrown overboard when the British attacked the port in the following May. It was dredged up from the harbor mud thirty years ago.

The Prince Regent had had a lucky escape when York burned. She was refitted at Kingston and re-named the General Beresford, and formed part of Sir James Lucas Yeo's squadron, known as the Slippery Six. Captain Spilsbury, R.N., distinguished himself and the vessel by capturing all the batteaux laden with stores and ammunition when the British routed the Americans encamped at Forty-Mile Creek, June 8, 1813. The Beresford, being small and nimble, was the only one of the British squadron able to get close in during the morning calm, and her carronades did great execution. Five days later she was one of the squadron which captured two schooners and a number of boats going to the enemy with supplies.

The Slippery Six consisted of the ships Wolfe and Royal George, the brigs Moira and Melville, and the schooners Prince Regent and Sir Sidney Smith. After the Prince Regent was renamed the Beresford, she may have been re-rigged still later as a brig; no very extensive change in those days, when schooners always had square sails on the foremast, and sometimes on the mainmast as well.

The first change in name was due, perhaps, to the feeling that Prince: Regent was a top heavy title for the smallest unit in the fleet. Poor old George III was then entering his dotage, and his son, the First Gentleman in Europe, was becoming Prince Regent; so that name was reserved for a fine new vessel, a two-decked man-of-war, which had been begun at Kingston, and was launched the following year.

Another reason for the change in names, which was as general in the war fleets as a change of position in a game of musical chairs, was the intended confusion of the spies who passed back and forth between Kingston and Sackett's Harbor.

Nowadays one looks up all the details of the world's battleships in a naval recognition book. In the War of 1812 it was all guess and gossip, and it was only when a ship was captured that the essential facts about her were known to the victors. When Chauncey's spies reported that there was a new schooner named the General Beresford in Yeo's fleet he probably rushed off a despatch to the effect that the enemy had been heavily reinforced and he would not be able to engage until he had two new vessels launched; a favorite summary of many of his despatches.

The Prince Regent's adventures under the new name, General Beresford, will be continued next week.

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MORE ABOUT THE MARY

Sir,—I am an interested reader of your Schooner Days, and enjoy them so much. I was doubly interested in your article on the Mary last week, as I am the sister of Andy Baird, her master and owner, about whom you spoke. Andy was, as you said, intensely interested in sailing, and even as a small boy was always playing with his toy boats.

My father was the owner in turn of the Lone Star, the Snow Bird, the W. T. Greenwood, and his last ship was the W. Y. Emery. Another brother, who was an engineer on a freighter on the west coast, was lost four years ago off the coast of Oregon. Andy's wife is at present living in Carmichael, Saskatchewan. Our family came from St. Catharines 60 years ago to Toronto. We sailed on the Lone Star with Father.

-ANDY'S SISTER

WIFE'S DEVOTION FAILED TO SAVE

Sir,—For a long time I have read your "Schooner Days" with a great deal of interest, because in the articles you frequently mention boats and men with whom I was acquainted during a residence of several years in Napanee.

None have interested me quite as much as "What Happened to the Mary 30 Years Ago," for it happens that I knew Capt. Andy Baird and his charming wife quite well, also his father.

One evening when Andy was still sailing the ancient Snow Bird, she was lying at the old "Soap Factory Dock" in Napanee, and Peter Mair, an old Napanee resident, since passed on, and I spent some time talking with Capt. Baird and his wife, who always sailed with him while he was in the Snow Bird. I remember that we asked her why she sailed with her husband when she must have known the ill-found condition of that vessel, and her reply was, "Well, if Andy goes down, I want to be with him." But when Andy did go down she was not with him.

I remember well when Capt. Baird brought his new schooner, the Mary, to Napanee. She was a well-found vessel, and he was naturally very proud of her. As soon as he acquired this new vessel, Mrs. Baird went ashore to live, as I suppose she thought that there was not much chance of Andy "going down."

During the winter season we used to do a lot of ice boat sailing, and Andy Baird was one of the most enthusiastic devotees of this sport.

Again I wish to express my appreciation of "Schooner Days," and the hope that you may long be spared to bring back memories of the glamorous days of "wooden ships and iron men" which your articles portray.

Yours truly,

—G. W. THEXTON.

(Thank you, Mr. Thexton, and thank you, "Andy's Sister," whose name and address I would be very proud to have. As I wrote I knew and admired "young Andy Baird"— and I was also shipmate with your brother Billy [corrected to Frank in one copy of the article] in the schooner Stuart H. Dunn 30 years ago. Have you a picture of the Mary, or do you know where I could see one?—Schooner Days Compiler.)