The Daring Escape of John Hewson from New York to Monmouth County

John Hewson was born in England; he emigrated to Philadelphia in 1773. An anti-monarchist, Hewson supported American independence and became a captain in the city’s militia. In April 1778, while the British Army was occupying Philadelphia, Hewson was captured and jailed in New York City. There, he met Captain Rufus Lincoln of Massachusetts, also a prisoner. On September 1, Hewson and five others attempted a risky escape that brought them past Sandy Hook and into Monmouth County.

Forty years later, Hewson, who had become a well-known textile-maker, wrote an account of his remarkable escape to his old friend, Lincoln. Lincoln kept Hewson’s account and it was published as part of his Revolutionary War papers. A summary of Hewson’s escape is below. Sadly, the Monmouth Countians who helped Hewson are not named. The full account is an appendix to this article.

The Daring Escape of John Hewson

Hewson and five men, led by a man named “Ogburn,” stole a canoe and left Manhattan at night. They had no provisions other than a jug of water and a bottle of spirits. The canoe was only “a little wider than our bodies, and five of us pretty well fill’d it lengthways.” Hewson described his party in the canoe:

We made Ogburn our captain and bound ourselves to obey his command – He, with a short paddle sat in the stern in the bottom of the canoe, with the incessant labor of his arms, in the ocean to his elbows, he kept her from falling in the trough of the sea which, if once done, we would have undoubtedly perished; myself & two more rowed with paddles, Black sat on the sand in the bottom of the canoe, to bail the water out with his hat, as it occasionally came in.

After stopping on a “barren island” to put sand in the bottom of their canoe for ballast, the men put to sea again in rough water. Hewson recalled, “We soon had to encounter the breakers, which were terrible; we expected to be swallowed up.” Paddling through the night, the men came within sight of the British naval base at Sandy Hook: “there was light in the light house that evening.” The water was rough due to “the abating of a storm.”

The men had paddled 20 miles through the night when they came to Sandy Hook. At Sandy Hook, “We past [sic] several vessels in the night, but we was as still as death” to avoid the Loyalist crews. Nearing the bottom of the Hook at one o’clock in the morning, the sea worsened:

The waves was raised about 3 feet high, and several times broke over us; I fainted on my seat twice with fatigue but did not fall. Blake had a bottle of water by his which he put to my mouth which revived me. We had half a gallon of spirits in the head of the canoe but not a man dare lose a stroke or stir from his seat, for one false stroke would have sent us all to the bottom.

Hewson’s boat made it through the rough waters and, before dawn, reached the bottom of Sandy Hook. ”As the day began to dawn, we then rowed about to look for an inlet, that we may not be forced to land in the surf.” His party was now pursued by “a vessel bearing downing on us.” The pursuit forced Hewson’s party to risk the rough surf. They likely landed in “the Gut” a temporary channel of land that separated Sandy Hook from the rest of New Jersey (the same place where several French sailors had attempted a landing and drowned two months earlier).

Our fears were alarmed and we concluded we must land in the surf at all hazards; We went as nigh as we could & waited the word of command. When we ventured on the first wave, the second knockt us all out the boat & the boat on shore, but it did not hurt us much, only wetted our clothes and, what was worse, then broke our bottle of Spirits.

The men stumbled onto land:

In, then, our wet and feeble state we gathered our cloaths together and began our march toward the Highlands of the Neversink, but we had gone no more than a quarter mile before a river, or what is called Shrewsbury inlet, presented between us and the main land. This struck us with horror, as the [British] vessel was making fast toward us.

Shrewsbury Inlet connected the Shrewsbury River directly with the Atlantic Ocean at present-day Sea Bright. Here, Hewson’s party split up:

We found a piece of board and tied all of our cloaths on it. Ogburn, our captain, agreed to take charge of the board if we could venture to swim across. Myself, Mr. Millard and Ogburn could swim – Rankin and Blake could not. They agreed to hide themselves in the sand and wait our fate.

Hewson and the swimmers went into the swift water of Shrewsbury Inlet, which he said was 200 yards wide. After 20 minutes of swimming, the men had made little progress: “I wondered why I was always in the middle of the river & turning myself round, I discovered more water behind & before me than the whole was where we entered -- we were in a strong eddy.” The pursuing boat closed in on them: “the vessel was opposite to us and the hands on deck were staring at us, but they dare not land in the surf and perhaps they had no firearms, so they went on without attempting anything.”

Hewson and his comrades remained stuck in the middle of Shrewsbury Inlet:

I now drifted down to Ogburn to consult him on our situation. When I began to speak to him I could only whisper; he advised me to tread water and try one hand on his board & rest a little, and then we could make one last grand effort to gain the land. Our cloaths, or a good part of them, at this juncture slipt off the plank and all we could do was send a wishful look after them. We had but one half dollar among us all & and that was in my velvet breeches pocket, which went off the plank with some shirts.

The men swam for the Highlands. “In 4 or 5 minutes more we found our feet on the sand.” Hewson was exhausted, “All I wanted now was to go to sleep while they got ready to climb the hills, but my captain made me climb the mountain for he insisted that if I slept 5 minutes I should sleep the sleep of death.”

Hewson recalled reaching the top of the Highlands where the men “staggered and fell like drunken men.” He recalled their first contact with Monmouth Countians:

We came to a house where people treated us kindly and gave us a warm breakfast. Here we dried our cloaths and inquired if there was no poor men in the neighborhood, some was soon introduced and we made a bargain with them to get a boat and row over the Inlet and look for our brethren left on the sandbar, and bring them safe to us; And the canoe we stole to come of it we gave them for their trouble, which they thought very good pay.

Hewson’s Party Crosses into Monmouth County

Hewson’s party knew that they could not stay long as “we learned that the enemy made frequent excursions over to where we was.” Once fed, the men walked six miles and ended the day at a crossroad, probably at or near Middletown. Here, locals again showed them kindness:

I was very weak from what I had undergone. We stopt where two farmers were leaning over the fence on each side of the road & made our case known to them as we had no money. One of them said I will take the sick man myself & two more, the other said he would take the other two. When I got to his house, his wife had me to bed in a crack. I had not slept an hour before she brought me something very good to take, and in a half hour as a good a supper was prepared for us as any person need ever to sit down to.

Hewson suggested that British and Loyalist cruelties had made the farmers strong Whigs (supporters of the Revolution). “This was in Monmouth County where General Howe [William Howe] made many wigs by his ill treatment, that they called him the wig maker.” Hewson wrote that the kindly farm family was “like a Mother & Father” to him and said, “I might stay a month with them & they would take care of me without a charge.” But Hewson’s party needed only a day of good rest and food before moving again.

They headed west, “Without any money in our pockets, we reach[ed] Allentown and made our case known to the inhabitants.” The people of Allentown were polite but did not provide provisions because “they had been hard pressed during the war.” They sent the escapees to a wealthy “Tory” living outside of town, probably Richard Waln, who had recently returned home after a year inside British lines. Hewson’s party said that under Waln’s care “we would be well treated, not out of love but for fear” of what might happen if he turned the men away.

Hewson recalled that “I went to the door of a great house, then the Gentleman appeared.” Hewson plead for help, “All we wanted was a little refreshment & a night’s lodging.” Hewson promised to send compensation once he reached Philadelphia. The disaffected family “were ashamed to deny us.” The family held a party that night, “they were to have a ball that night & asked us if we would not wish supper pretty soon & retire to rest.” Well-fed and rested, Hewson and the other men left in the morning. They crossed into Pennsylvania that night.

Hewson’s story is the most detailed account of a band of penniless, hungry men traversing Monmouth County during the Revolutionary War. While Hewson’s party was well-treated and, therefore, respectful to their hosts, there were certainly times when that was not the case. Desperate men are prone to act desperately when their needs are not met. The six years of war unleashed dozens of similar parties of desperate men (including white and black Loyalists heading east for refuge at Sandy Hook) into Monmouth County.

Related Historic Site: Sandy Hook Lighthouse

Sources: The Papers of Captain Rufus Lincoln of Wareham, Massachusetts (James Minor Lincoln: Privately Printed, 1904), pp 211-215; A Brief History of the Revolution, with a Sketch of the Life of Captain John Hewson (Philadelphia: Sarah Alcock, 1843).

Appendix: The Full Text of John Hewson’s Escape from New York

“I promised to give you a detail of what I past through when I left the island; it will be tedious but it may beguile a gloomy hour, as well as show to you the super abundant goodness of a gracious God to one of the chiefest of sinners – When we left the Island, we went to the mouth of a barren creek which led to barren Island & from there to the sea. It was about ten o’clock at night; We had prepared a large boat, but our company, not all arriving, we took a small canoe which we could not stand in without the danger of tumbling overboard.

We proceeded down the creek about a mile & then run her ashore & ballast her with sand; and proceed to the ocean. We soon had to encounter the breakers, which we were terrible; we expected to be swallowed up; but God preserved us, glory be to his most Holy name! When we thought little of him he was mindful of us and saved us. I shall just mention that there was light in the light house that evening and it was at the abating of a storm, which two circumstances was necessary to be observed, but all of these prudential methods would have proved abortive had the Lord not preserved us – Judge from the following; a canoe only a little wider than our bodies, and five of us pretty well fill’d it lengthways. We made Ogburn our captain and bound ourselves to obey his command – He, with a short paddle sat in the stern in the bottom of the canoe, with the incessant labor of his arms, in the ocean to his elbows, he kept her from falling in the trough of the sea which, if once done, we would have undoubtedly perished; myself & two more rowed with paddles, Black sat on the sand in the bottom of the canoe, to bail the water out with his hat, as it occasionally came in.

We made on offing toward the ocean of about 20 miles for fear the flood tide should be so powerful for us and put us in view of Allens Core at the Hook. We past several vessels in the night, but we was as still as death; about one o'clock as near as I can guess, an awful moment arrived. The sky blackened and the wind made a hollow, dismal noise. The waves was raised about 3 feet high, and several times broke over us; I fainted on my seat twice with fatigue but did not fall. Blake had a bottle of water by his which he put to my mouth which revived me. We had half a gallon of spirits in the head of the canoe but not a man dare lose a stroke or stir from his seat, for one false stroke would have sent us all to the bottom – but I must not pass by my feelings in the awful moment mentioned above, I felt uneasy about my precious soul, for I had known the worth of it from 19 years of age, but I was in a backsliding state. I proposed a question to myself:

“Soul: if left to your choice, which of the following would you choose; Either to be taken prisoner by Allens Core, or go down to a watery grave?”

The answer in my mind was quick: Let me go down in this great deep, and fall into the hands of God rather than fall into the hands of wicked men whose tender mercies are very Cruelty – I felt easy & satisfied with this, and we continued to labor till we heard the surf roar. And the day began to dawn, we then rowed about to look for an inlet, that we may not be forced to land in the surf at all hazards. We went as nigh as we could but as daylight approached, we discovered a vessel bearing downing on us from New York as she come on purpose for us. Our fears were alarmed and we concluded we must land in the surf at all hazards; We went as nigh as we could & waited the word of command. When we ventured on the first wave, the second knockt us all out the boat & the boat on shore, but it did not hurt us much, only wetted our clothes and, what was worse, then broke our bottle of Spirits, which I am sure one hundred guineas would not have purchased it from us. In, then, our wet and feeble state we gathered our cloaths together and began our march toward the Highlands of the Neversink, but we had gone no more than a quarter mile before a river, or what is called Shrewsbury inlet, presented between us and the main land. This struck us with horror, as the vessel was making fast toward us. We found a piece of board and tied all of our cloaths on it, Ogburn, our captain, agreed to take charge of the board if we could venture to swim across. Myself, Mr. Millard and Ogburn could swim – Rankin and Blake could not. They agreed to hide themselves in the sand and wait our fate. Rankin said if we was saved he was sure we would save them, and if we perished, he was willing to share our fate, but Blake wished himself back on the island.

We entered the river, it appeared to be about 200 yards wide. We swam hard for about 20 minutes, when I grew very sleepy & made some attempts to lay my head on the water to make the experiment, but something told me it would not do; I wondered why I was always in the middle of the river & turning myself round, I discovered more water behind & before me than the whole was where we entered -- we were in a strong eddy. By this time the vessel was opposite to us and the hands on deck were staring at us, but they dare not land in the surf and perhaps they had no firearms, so they went on without attempting anything. I now drifted down to Ogburn to consult him on our situation. When I began to speak to him I could only whisper; he advised me to tread water and try one hand on his board & rest a little, and then we could make one last grand effort to gain the land. Our cloaths, or a good part of them, at this juncture slipt off the plank and all we could do was send a wishful look after them. We had but one half dollar among us all & and that was in my velvet breeches pocket, which went off the plank with some shirts & c. After I had rested two or three minutes, Ogburn gave the word, “whorah for life” – we started off with a little fresh resolution and exerted our remaining energies. It was 3 or 4 minutes before we was certain we gained on the land, but when we attained that knowledge, it seemd to instill fresh life & strength into us and in 4 or 5 minutes more we found our feet on the sand. All I wanted now was to go to sleep while they got ready to climb the hills, but my captain made me climb the mountains for he insisted that if I slept 5 minutes I should sleep the sleep of death. We, at length, reached the summit of the mountains and staggered and fell like drunken men till we came to a house where people treated us kindly and gave us a warm breakfast. Here we dried our cloaths and inquired if there was no poor men in the neighborhood, some was soon introduced and we made a bargain with them to get a boat and row over the Inlet and look for our brethren left on the sandbar, and bring them safe to us; And the canoe we stole to come of it we gave them for their trouble, which they thought very good pay. After we was all refreshed, we learned that enemy made frequent excursions over to where we was, so we got ready & took up our line of march. As I past along, it appeared like paradise to me, I could scarcely refrain from falling down & kissing the ground, I thought it favored too much Idolatry.

We marched 6 miles this day & could go no further, for I was very weak from what I had undergone. We stopt where two farmers were leaning over the fence on each side of the road & made our case known to them as we had no money. One of them said I will take the sick man myself & two more, the other said he would take the other two. When I got to his house, his wife had me to bed in a crack. I had not slept an hour before she brought me something very good to take, and in a half hour as a good a supper was prepared for us as any person need to sit down to. This was in Monmouth County where General Howe made a many wigs by his ill treatment, that they called him the wig maker. The people at this house was more like a Mother & Father to us than anything else. When they heard I had such a family & how I had been treated, they cheered me up & told me they would put a feather bed in the wagon and take me home without a farthing of expense, or I could not march whatever, I might stay a month with them & they would take care of me without a charge – but through their kind treatment, I felt pretty well next morning and off we started for home like brave fellows. Without any money in our pockets, we reach Allentown and made our case known to the inhabitants; they told us we should not suffer, but they had been hard pressed during the war, but about a mile from town there was some rich Tory families and if we made application there, we would be well treated, not out of love but for fear of having their names canvas’d over on such business. I went to the door of a great house, then the Gentleman appeared; I addressed him in the best manner I was capable, told him we hoped he would not look upon us as common beggars, that we was persons who loved our country & had fought for it, that while we had been prisoners & had just made our escape from the enemy, all we wanted was a little refreshment & a night’s lodging, & if he thought proper, we would give an order on some suitable person in Philadelphia for the payment of what we had. They were ashamed to deny us, they were to have a ball that night & asked us if we would not wish supper pretty soon & retire to rest. “By all means” we answered & went to bed & slept sound while they danced. The next morning, we set off for the city [Philadelphia], which we reached about 8 o’clock in the evening.”