Welcome to Toms River Seaport Society’s (Mari)Time-Warp, taking our supporters back through the nautical history of the Barnegat Bay and Toms River watershed areas!

This time we reprint Continental rebel and British nationalist reports on and arguments over the Toms River blockhouse raid and later hanging of patriot leader Joshua Huddy through various American and British newspapers in 1782.

First, a primer on the blockhouse raid and Joshua Huddy, courtesy HistoryNet.

Dunlap and Claypoole's American Daily Advertiser
March 30th, 1782

TRENTON, March 27.
Extract of a letter from Monmouth, dated the 25th of this month.

"I am sorry to inform you our guard at Tom's river were cut off yesterday morning by about 100 refugees, under command of one Devenport. On the alarm captain Huddy repaired to the blockhouse, in which some of the inhabitants joined him, and others remained outside; the house was defended till the ammunition was expended, when it surrendered. Major Cook, who was out of the house, fell. Five others were killed, and two wounded. Captain Huddy, Daniel Randolph, esq; and several more, are carried off prisoners. Devenport was wounded, supposed since dead, and one negro was killed. The enemy then burn the village, except the houses of Aaron Buck, and Mrs. Studson, after which they went off immediately. The unfortunate inhabitants have not saved more than two houses could draw."

Dunlap and Claypoole's American Daily Advertiser
May 1st, 1782

TRENTON, April 24.
Extract of a letter from Freehold, Monmouth county, dated April 15, 1782.

"Last Saturday was brought to this place the corpse of captain Joshua Huddy, who was, about ten o'clock the day before, most barbarously and unwarrantable hanged, at Middletown-Point, by a party of refugees. This murder was attended with so much deliberate injustice and wanton cruelty, that the circumstances ought to be preserved and made public, not only to call upon the vengeance of his countrymen to expiate the manes [soul of the dead] of the sufferer, but as a shocking instance of the blackness of that guilt of which human nature is capable.

Captain Huddy was one of the bravest of men, a fit subject therefore of cowardly inhumanity. He has distinguished himself on a variety of occasions, one instance of which I cannot avoid mentioning: The summer before last, alone and unassisted, except by a woman, he defended his house against a party of near seventy refugees for several hours, and when it was in a manner riddled with musket balls, and in flames about him, he refused to submit until he obtained from the assailants safe and honourable terms...

Captain Huddy also commanded the troops at the block-house on Tom's river, when it was lately reduced; he defended it most gallantly against a vast superiority of numbers until his ammunition was expended, and no alternative was left. The refugees, like their task-masters the British, who employ them in every kind of infamous business, are always cruel in success and pitifully mean in adversity. After the little brave garrison was in their power, they deliberately murdered five of the soldiers asking for quarters.

From Tom's river, Captain Huddy, Justice Randolph and the remaining prisoners were taken to New-York, where suffering the various progressions of barbarity, usually exercised upon those who are destined to a violent or a lingering death, those two gentlemen, with a Mr. Fleming, were put into the hold of a vessel. Captain Huddy was ironed hand and foot. On Monday last a certain John Tilton, a refugee, came to him, and told him, "that he was ordered (by the board of refugees, we suppose) to be hanged."

Captain Huddy asked "what charge was alleged against him?" Tilton replied "that he had taken a certain Philip White, a refugee, six miles up in the country, cut off both his arms, broke both his legs, pulled out one of his eyes, and then damned him and bid him run." To this Huddy answered, "it is impossible that I could have taken Philip White, I being a prisoner closely confined in New-York at that time and for many days before he was made a prisoner."

Justice Randolph confirmed what Huddy had said, and assured Tilton that he could not possibly be charged with White's death; upon which Tilton told Mr. Randolph, that "he should be hanged next." This flimsy story, which must have been created by the murderous hearts of the refugees, to cloak their villany, was the only crime charged against captain Huddy, and was the common subject of their conversation.

From the sloop, captain Huddy, with his fellow prisoners, were put on board the guard ship at the Hook, and confined between decks till Friday morning the 12th instant, when some men, strangers to the prisoners, came below and told captain Huddy to "prepare to be hanged immediately." He again said, "he was not guilty of having killed White," and that "he should die an innocent man and in a good cause;" and, with the most uncommon fortitude and composure of mind, prepared for his end, and with the spirit of a true son of liberty, he waited the moment of his fate, which he met with a degree of firmness and serenity, which struck the coward hearts of his executioners with admiration. He even executed his will under the gallows, upon the head of that barrel from which he was immediately to make his exit, and in a hand writing fairer than usual.

"The circumstances attending the death of the above mentioned Philip White, were as follow:

"On Saturday, the 30th of March last, he was surprised by a party of our people, and after he had laid down his arms, in token of surrendering himself a prisoner, he again took up his musket and killed a son of colonel Hendrickson; he was however taken by our light horse, and on his way from Colts-Neck to Freehold, where they were conducting him, he again attempted to make his escape from the guard, who called on him several times to surrender, but he continued running, although often crossed and recrossed by the light horse, and desired to stop, and finally, when leaping into a bog, impassable by the horse, he received a stroke in the head by a sword, which killed him instantly. The above facts have not only been proved by the affidavits of our friends who were present, but by the voluntary and candid testimony of one Aaron White, who was taken prisoner with the said Philip.

"Captain Huddy was taken prisoner on Sunday the 24th of March, and kept in close custody, with justice Randolph, out of whose presence he never was for half an hour from the time he was taken, until the hour of his execution, which shews how impossible it was for him to have been concerned in White's death, and that they must have known it was so.

"To shew their insolence yet further, they left the following label affixed to the breast of the unfortunate captain Huddy."

We the refugees, having with grief, long beheld the cruel murders of our brethren, and finding nothing but such measures daily carrying into execution.

"We therefore determine not to suffer without taking vengeance for the numerous cruelties, and thus began (and I say may those lose their liberty who do not follow on) and have made use of captain Huddy as the first object to present to your views, and further determine to hang man for man as long as a refugee is left existing.

"Up goes Huddy for Philip White."

"This paper needs no comment. Is it not high time seriously to enquire whether these refugees are owned by, and under the direction of the British commander at New-York? If so, and he should refuse to deliver up the wicked perpetrators of the above murder, ought we not to treat his officers in the same manner until satisfaction be obtained? If, as some say, they are not under his authority, what are they but pirates and robbers? and, why ought they not to be treated as such when they fall into our hands?"

Dunlap and Claypoole's American Daily Advertiser
May 4th, 1782

The following has been handed to us, as a genuine copy of the letter from his Excellency the Commander in chief [George Washington] to Sir Henry Clinton, on the subject of the murder of Captain Huddy.

SIR, Head-Quarters, April 21st, 1782
The inclosed representation from the inhabitants of the county of Monmouth, with testimonials to the fact (which can be corroborated by other unquestionable evidence) will bring before your excellency the most wanton, cruel and unprecedented murder that ever disgraced the arms of a civilized people. I shall not, because I conceive it altogether unnecessary, trouble your excellency with any animadversions upon this transaction. Candour obliges me to be explicit: to save the innocent I demand the guilty.

Captain Lippencut therefore, or the officer who commanded the execution of captain Huddy, must be given up; or if that officer was of inferior rank to him, so many of the perpetrators as will according to the tariff of exchange, be an equivalent. To do this will mark the justice of your excellency's character. In failure of it, I shall hold myself unjustifiable, in the eye of God and man, for the measure to which I shall resort.

I beg your excellency to be persuaded that it cannot be more disagreeable to you to be addressed in this language, than it is to me to offer it; but the subject requires frankness and decision.

I have to request your speedy determination, as my resolution is suspended but for your answer.

I have the honor to be, &c.

Our correspondent adds, that in consequence of this just and decisive measure, Sir Henry Clinton declared, that he had been imposed upon by the board of refugees, who had obtained the person of captain Huddy from him, on pretence of conveying him to the Point to be exchanged for a favourite refugee officer in our possession, instead of which they had put him to death. The menace contained in the general's letter a spirited memorial from the British officers, who stated to Sir Henry Clinton, that as they considered themselves in a totally distinct point of view from the refugees, they hoped and trusted that he would not suffer a British officer to be sacrificed on so unworthy an occasion, which they thus publicly disavowed; and expressing their wishes, that the perpetrators of the murder in question would be delivered up. This remonstrance occasioned a counter memorial from the board of refugees, against the delivery of Lippencutt, followed by representations of their resolution, in case it should take place, of laying down their arms, or even of defending themselves with them, as they could not but consider such a step as an intended discouragement and sacrifice of all the loyalists.

It is said that Lippencutt has been delivered up; but as there are various reports on the subject, we have not been able to ascertain the actual result of these proceedings.

The Derby Mercury (England)
July 11, 1782

[General Clinton replies to General Washington]

Sir Henry Clinton ordered a Court-Martial upon Captain Lippencot, in consequence of this Application; but such was the Situation of Affairs, and such the Temper of the Refugees, that the Captain has not been given up to Gen. Washington, but the following letter from Gen. Sir Henry Clinton was sent in Answer to the above Letter from Gen. Washington.

Sir,
YOUR Letter of the 21st Instant, with the enclosed Testimonial, respecting Captain Huddy's Execution, was delivered to me Yesterday; and though I am extremely concerned for the Cause, I cannot conceal by Surprize and Displeasure of the very improper Language you have made use of, which you could not but be sensible was totally unnecessary.

The Mildness of the British Government does not admit of Acts of Cruelty or persecuting Violence, and as they are notoriously contrary to the Tenor of my own Conduct and Disposition (having never yet stained my Hands with innocent Blood) I must claim the Justice of having it believed, that, if such have been committed by any Person under my Command, they could not have been warranted by my Authority, nor can they have ever the Sanction of my Approbation. My personal Feelings therefore required no such Incitements to urge me to take every proper Notice of the barbarous Outrage against Humanity (which you have represented to me) the Moment it came to my Knowledge; and accordingly when I heard of Captain Huddy's Death (which was only four Days before I received your Letter) I instantly ordered a strict Enquiry to be made in all its Circumstances, and shall bring the Perpetrators of it to an immediate Trial.

To sacrifice Innocence under the Notion of preventing Guilt, in place of supressing, would be adopting Barbarity, and raising it to the greatest height. Whereas, if the Violators of the Laws of War are punished by the Generals under whose Powers they act, the Horrors, which those Laws were formed to prevent, will be avoided, and every Degree of Humanity War is capable of, maintained.

Could Violations of Humanity be justified by Example, many from the Parts where your Power prevails, that exceed, and probably gave rise to this in question, could be produced. In Hopes that the Mode I mean to pursue will be adopted by you, and prevent all future Enormities,
I remain, &x.
(Signed) H.C.

[earlier this same news page included such language from the British perspective of their desire to "assist in bringing the Colonies to a re-union with the Mother County."]

​Jackson's Oxford Journal (England)
August 3rd, 1782

AMERICA.
A REPORT to the Board of Loyalists, respecting the Execution of JOSHUA HUDDY, inclosed in a Letter to Sir Henry Clinton, dated April 27, 1782.

SIR,
In Compliance with the Orders of the Honourable Board of Direction, we beg Leave to communicate to your Excellency, for the Information, an Account of the Proceedings of the Loyalists from Monmouth, on the late Expedition for the Relief of Capt. Clayton Tilton, and two other Loyalists, then Prisoners with the Rebels in that Country.

Being frustrated in the Design of bringing off Capt. Tilton by Force, and our Offers for Exchange rejected, we dreaded that he was reserved for a Fate simmilar to that our Associate, Philip White, had suffered, who was taken at the same Time with Captain Tilton, and inhumanly and wantonly murdered by the Guard who were carrying him to Monmouth Gaol.

This recent Instance of Cruelty, added to the many daring Acts of the same Nature which have been perpetrated with Impunity, by a set of vindictive Rebels, well known by the Name of Monmouth Retaliators, assicated and headed by one General Furman, whose horrid Acts of Cruelty have gained him universally the Name of Black David, fired our Party with an Indignation only to be felt by Men who for a Series of Years have beheld many of their Friends and Neighbours butchered in cold Blood, under the usurped Form of Law, and often without that Ceremony, for no other Crime than that of maintaining their Allegiance to the Government under which they were born, and which the Rebels audaciously called Treason against their States.

We thought it high Time to convince the Rebels, who would no longer tamely submit to such glaring Acts of Barbarity; and though we lament the Necessity to which we have been driven, to begin a Retaliation of intolerable Cruelties, long continued and often repeated, yet we are convinced that we could not have saved the Life of Capt. Tilton, by any other Means. We therefore pitched upon Joshua Huddy, as a proper Subject for Retaliation, because he was not only well known to have been a very active and cruel Persecutor of our Friends, but had not been ashamed to boast of his having been instumental in hanging Stephen Edwards, a worthy Loyalist, and the first of our Brethren who fell a Martyr to Republican Fury in Monmouth County. Huddy was the Man who tied the Knot, and put the Rope about the Neck of that inoffensive Sufferer. This Fact will appear by two Affidavits which we have the Honour to enclose. When the Board are pleased to take into their Consideration the Motives which induced us to take this Step; and that Huddy was executed in the County where so many Acts of Cruelty have been committed on Refugees, we hope they will not think our Conduct reprehensible, the more especially when your Excellency perceives the following State of Facts:

1st. That Joshua Huddy was one of the Rebels who took Stephen Edwards, of Monmouth, a worthy Loyalist, of good Family and Property, out of his Bed, and acknowledged himself to have been active and assisting in hanging the said Edwards.

2d. That James Pew, a Loyalist, from Middletown, of reputable Family and good Character, was taken Prisoner by the Rebels in 1778, confined for a considerable Time in Freehold Gaol, and put to Death by the Sentry.

3d. That Stephen West, Stephen Emmons, and Ezekiel Williams, three Loyalists from Monmouth, were all of them most inhumanly murdered by the Rebels in 1778.

4th. That John Wood and Thomas Emmons, Loyalists from Monmouth, were taken by the Rebels in 1778, and executed at Freehold.

5th. That Jacob Fagars, a Loyalist from Monmouth, was wounded in 1778, of which Wound he died, and was privately buried by his Friends. The Rebels soon after got Information of this, dug him up, carried his Corpse to Freehold, and hung it on Gibbets.

6th. That John Farnham, and Jonathan Burge, two Loyalists from Monmouth, were taken by the Rebels in 1781, and executed at Freehold, notwithstanding there were Rebel Prisoners of Rank and Consequence taken by the same Farnham and Burge, confined in our Prevost, one of them a Lieutenant Colonel of Militia, and another of the Rebel Assembly, who were offered in Exchange for them.

7th. That Joseph Wood, an associated Loyalist, from Monmouth, was taken at Longbranch, Shrewsbury, in 1781, carried to Coltsneck, where he was Prisoner for several days; that in removing him from thence to Freehold, he was most inhumanly put to Death by the Guard, within half a Mile of the Prison.

8th. That Joseph Mullener, an associated Loyalist, and Captain of a Whale-Boat Privateer, was taken by the Rebels in 1781, carried to Freehold, removed to Burlington, tried and executed, notwithstanding he produced his Commission, as Captain of the said Privateer, at his Trial.

9th. That Richard Bell, and John Thompson, two associated Loyalists, from Monmouth, were taken by a Party of Rebels in November last, from off Sandy-Hook, within his Majesty's Lines, carried to Freehold, and hanged.

10th. That Philip White, taken the other Day at Shrewsbury, in Action, was marched, under Guard, for near fifteen Miles, and at a private Part of the Road, about three Miles from Freehold Gaol, (as it is asserted by creditable Persons in the Rebel Country,) was kept back by three Dragoons, while Captain Tilton and the other Prisoners were sent forward, and after being stripped of his Buckles, Buttons, and other Articles, the Dragoons told him they would give him a Chance for his Life, and ordered him to run, which he attempted, but had not got three Yards from them before they shot him, and then cut him with their Swords over his Eyes and other Parts, until he expired.

Many of the above Facts are ascertained by Affidavits; and such as are not, are too notorious to be denied, even by General Furman himself, the most persecuting Rebel in the Country. By a strange Fatality the Loyalists are the only People that have been treated as Rebels during this unhappy War.

We have the Honour to be, in Behalf of the associated and other Loyalists of Monmouth County, your Excellency's most obedient and humble Servants.

The Freeman's Journal or The North-American Intelligencer (U.S.)
September 4th, 1782

It is now many months since captain Huddy was murdered in a most barbarous manner, and no retaliation has yet taken place. We are informed Congress and general Washington, took up this affair about the same time, but the latter had demanded captain Lippencut of general Clinton before the dispatches of Congress reached him. While sir Harry remained at New York nothing was done; on his departure the command devolved on sir Guy Carleton,--a fresh demand was made, with threats of immediate retaliation on a prisoner of equal rank, in case of refusal; and captain Asgil of the British guards was selected as the equivalent.

This induced sir Guy to set on foot an enquiry. Lippencut was brought before a court martial, but he objected to their jurisdiction, and claimed the right of a free British subject to be tried before his equals, and in the county where the fact was committed. His plea was overruled. Even Smith the nominal chief justice and Kemp the pretended attorney general, declared for the competency of the court military, because Monmouth county in New Jersey was possessed by rebels, and because the courts of common Law in New Jersey were not open, of course martial law must of necessity interpose to prevent the failure of justice.

--The court martial finding their own ideas thus supported proceeded on the trial, and Lippencutt, who belonged to the refugee associators proves a verbal order from governor Franklin, president of the board, Dan Cox and Mr. R. Alexander, members of the board, to hang the unfortunate Huddy. The court martial upon this evidence acquits Lippencut.--Sir Guy Carleton after three months sends out transcripts of the proceedings, evidence, &c. &c. to General Washington declaring his abhorrence of the detestable murder of capt Huddy, and determination to make farther investigations, let them affect who they may; but at the same time suffers governor Franklin to go in the packet for England.

COMPELLED TO DISGORGE
Two days later, when a wrecking vessel and lighter came down from Sandy Hook to save the cargo, the greater part of it had disappeared and the wreckers had become peaceable fishermen in Barnegat Inlet. Two boat loads of wine and brandy that were taken from the cargo of the Liberty by the pirates were secreted in the fastnesses of Big Swamp, which was several miles nearer the wreck than Cedar Swamp, where the silks were hidden. Such a hue and cry was made over this job that the pirates, fearing that the State authorities would send troops here to extirpate them, gave up nearly all the goods. Eleven wreckers were arrested, but they gave bail and were never tried.

Two log cabins were built in Big Swamp, where the liquor was stored, and for weeks after the wreck of the Liberty the pirates spent the greater part of their time in drunken revelry. These cabins were used afterwards as the rendezvous of the band when night came on and they were not within easy sailing distance of Forked river and the Red Water swamp. Captain Ben's father was once met by Odell and the elder Paxon, who ordered him to follow them. They entered Odell's boat, crossed into Big Swamp and spent the night in the cabins. Peters was allowed to go home in the morning, but before leaving the pirates he was told that if he talked too freely about their retreat he would be shot on sight.

On one occasion Paxon became jealous of the popularity of Captain Bill Holladay and a free fight occurred on the beach. Paxon and his friends withdrew to the Forked River region, while Holladay and his supporters retired to Big Swamp. A week or so later the factions met on the bay and as the majority were armed with heavy ducking guns a regular naval engagement ensued. Half a dozen of the men were wounded and Paxon had one of his eyes destroyed and his rival lost two fingers. The injuries being about equal the captains buried the hatchet and the band was reunited.

The brigs Fairweather and Dolphin were wrecked and their crews badly abused by the pirates, who wanted to set them adrift again in their small boats, created a small sensation and got to the ears of the authorities in the upper end of the county, but it was not until the Twin Brothers was lured ashore and rifled that the respectable people took the matter in hand.

CAPTURED BY THE VIGILANTES.
When wrecks were scarce the pirates, emboldened by success, preyed upon their honest neighbors in Ocean, Burlington and adjoining counties. Paxon became such an outlaw that he did not visit any of the towns in the county for fear of being shot, as several men who had suffered from his raids vowed they would kill him on sight.

In February, 1847, a posse of resolute men, with horns and dogs, rode into Big Swamp for the purpose of capturing Paxon and Odell. The wreckers were warned and fled, but before doing so they fired the cabins, which were but a heap of smouldering ruins when the vigilantes, who had been guided to the place by the smoke, came up. The hunt was continued, however, and a few hours later Paxon was captured in a tree. He is said to have shown the white feather at once by begging his captors not to lynch him. Four of his band were captured on the following day near Forked river and the others either fled from the state or gave up their evil practices.

Big Mag Holliday, young Paxon's wife, is said to have been nearly six feet high and a perfect Amazon in strength and courage. She married Paxon when she was sixteen years of age, but a few months later they quarreled and she came very near ending his piratical career by chopping him with a boat axe. One night while Paxon and his confederates were looking for prey on the beach his house on the mainland was invaded and searched by a party of officers. Suspecting that he was across the bay and would return before morning they made themselves comfortable in the house, leaving one of their number to watch the point at which Paxon and his friends would land. "Big Mag" made an excuse to leave the house, ran half a mile, swam two creeks and reached the home of her father; but the men were all away with her husband. Nothing daunted, she jumped into a skiff, rowed across the bay, found and notified her husband and his companions of their danger. They immediately entered their boats and stood away down the bay. The officers waited until daylight and then went away. Abe Paxon disappeared after his father, and the others were captured and never reappeared in Ocean county.

FATE OF THE CREW.
"Big Mag," after waiting several years for her husband to return, mated with the captain of a charcoal schooner and was last heard of as the owner of a sailors' boarding house in New York. The elder Paxon and those of his confederates who were arrested were tried and sent to prison for short terms, and common report has it that Paxon died before he had been locked up a month. In many of the houses along the coast relics that once belonged to the pirates are kept as curiosities. Captain Ben Peters exhibits with no small amount of pride a dagger with a buckhorn handle and a twelve-inch blade which he declares once stuck in the belt of the redoubtable Captain Holliday. Captain Ben said: "I reckon when Captain Holliday had that knife he socked it into many a man." The present owner uses it to scale and disembowel fish. One or more curiosities like Freebooter Holliday's dirk can be found in many of the old fishermen's houses.

Captain Ben kindly volunteered to pilot the reporter to the hut of Captain Sam Darden, the ex-pirate and present hermit, who lives in Big Swamp. The invitation was accepted and early on the following morning the journey began.

After crossing the bay and threading the narrow bayous that cut up the flats on the land side Captain Ben pulled his skiff up the bank and then a mile tramp through creeks and bogs, underbrush and timbers, until a small clearing, with a log cabin in the centre, appeared in view. Captain Ben stopped short, saying: "That's the place. Suppose we give a yell, just to let him know we're coming, 'cause he ain't much on visitors." The yell was given and answered by five mongrel dogs, who came dashing out like wolves. Heedless of the yelping curs Ben trudged on toward the house, on the shady side of which sat an old man with white hair. It was Captain Sam. He was barefooted and surly, and sat on the ground examining one of his feet. Captain Ben said, "Hellow, Sam!" to which salute the old wrecker did not reply.

"What ails your foot?" continued Captain Ben, eyeing the extremity in question with unnatural interest.

"Skinned heel," replied Captain Sam, gruffly.

No reasonable person could expect a pirate with a skinned heel to be in an angelic frame of mind, and, appreciating that fact, Captain Ben took steps to cheer up the sufferer. His first step was a flask of whisky and the second a plug of tobacco. Captain Sam began to thaw at once, and in a few minutes was swearing at his skinless heel with that richness and vigor which has from the days of Captain Kidd made pirates famous.

AN OLD PIRATE'S STORY.
After Captain Sam had exhausted his stock of profanity, Captain Ben said, with amazing coolness, "Sam, here is a man that wants you tell him how many men you and Paxon's and Holliday's crew killed."

To say that Captain Sam swore at this question but faintly expresses the broadside of profanity he poured into Captain Ben, who hastened to say that he did not intend to offend him. Captain Ben finally succeeded in propitiating the wicked old freebooter, who at last consented to tell his story, wanting it distinctly understood, however, that he never killed or helped to kill a man.

Captain Sam is sixty-nine years old and a native of Norfolk, Virginia. Darden is the name he assumed when at sixteen years of age he ran away to sea. At twenty he was the second mate of a slaver fitted out in Baltimore. He made four voyages in her before she was pursued by an English man-of-war and the crew escaped by taking to the small boats and landing on the South African coast the night before the vessel was captured.

Tom Paxon was the first mate of the slaver and he and Dardin were warm friends. They reached Cape Town, then Liverpool and finally New York, where they separated, Paxon going to his wife and family in Ocean county, while Dardin remained in New York. A few months later Darden visited Paxon, who was engaged in fishing, and remained in that neighborhood ever since. He admitted that many vessels had been pillaged on Long Beach, but declared most emphatically that the men in the interior of the county, who got the greatest share of the booty, were never heard of by the public.

When the schooner Elferidu came ashore he says four thousand dollars in Spanish gold was found in her cabin. That money was divided among eleven men. He considers wrecking a legitimate business and wished more of it was done. The old reprobate chuckled when Captain Ben asked him about Holliday's cow, but he could not be induced to say that he ever knew of a vessel being lured to the breakers by false lights. He also says the wreckers saved many more lives than they ever got credit for.

Darden has lived in the swamp thirteen years, with no companions but dogs. Until two yeas ago he made some money by fishing and hunting, but lately rheumatism prevents him from hunting much in severe weather. He visits Barnegat once a month and purchases ammunition, tobacco and coffee and corn meal. He sells his game and fish without going into the town.

"I have no friends," he said, "and I am too old to begin to make acquaintances. I get along very well alone, and I won't have people coming here to bother me."

The hut is rudely but by no means uncomfortably furnished, and it is passably clean. When his visitor said good-bye and started out of the clearing he simply nodded his head and limped back into the house.

"I haven't been here for two years and it will be two more before I come sloshing through this mud again," said Captain Ben, "but he treated us a good deal better than I expected."

"It's a wonder he didn't try to make the dogs chaw us," continued the Captain. When the boat was reached, Captain Ben, who had been strangely silent for half an hour, remarked: "Say, he never said he never saw a man killed, didn't he?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'll just bet my boots that he's killed more'n a dozen himself."

Having relieved his mind by that strong expression of opinion Captain Ben pulled the skiff up close to the mud and a few moments later the swamp that harbors the last of the Barnegat pirates was fast fading into the horizon.

Welcome to Toms River Seaport Society’s (Mari)Time-Warp, taking our supporters back through the nautical history of the Barnegat Bay and Toms River watershed areas!

Today we share the account of an enterprising reporter who interviewed old-time residents of our shore area, including one retired “pirate,” to get details on the activity of famed “Barnegat Pirates,” published by the Philadelphia Times on July 24th, 1882 and rediscovered thanks to Newspapers.com.

PIRATES OF LONG BEACH.

The Philadelphia Times
July 24th, 1882

CAPTAIN PAXON'S LAWLESS CREW.

Tales of Shipwreck and Plunder Told by the Old Salts of Barnegat--How Vessels Were Lured on the Beach and the Seamen Butchered.

The capture of Captain Tom Paxon and four members of his notorious band and the establishment of the present life-saving service on the New Jersey coast in 1848 had the effect of breaking up the organization of the much-dreaded Barnegat pirates and the half hundred barbarous wreckers whose deeds made the twenty miles of coast between Egg Harbor and Forked river a terror to honest sailors. Only one member of this viking band is known to be alive and he is a surly hermit in an Ocean county swamp. During the reign of the Barnegat pirates Long Beach gained a reputation that clung to it for years, and even now there are many ignorant sailors who dread the place.

In January last the German bark Fatherland went ashore a few miles south of the Barnegat light, and after much difficulty the men of the Life Station got a line from the shore to the vessel, but to their astonishment the crew refused to make use of the life-rope. Two men went out to the bark and finally succeeded in convincing the frightened mariners that Barnegat wreckers were creatures of the past.

Long Beach is twenty miles in length and from a quarter to half a mile wide. The outside is fringed with monster dunes of white sand, washed up by the Atlantic, and the inside, which is washed by Barnegat Bay, is low, marshy and covered with swamp grass, reeds and cattail. Clumps of cedar trees, strangely distorted by frequent storms, dot the island, or Beach, as it is commonly called, and give it rather an inviting appearance when seen from a distance. There are several primitive hotels on the Beach now, and hundreds of people go there every summer to bathe, fish and battle with mosquitoes, but when the pirates reigned they alone inhabited the place. Barnegat Bay, which separates the beach from the mainland, is from five to six miles wide, and, with the exception of its narrow and tortuous channel, is very shallow.

WHERE THE PIRATES LIVED ASHORE.

The shore of the mainland is low and swampy--so swampy that many square miles of it cannot be traveled over by man except in winter. Bears, catamounts and other wild animals live in safety in the depths of Big and Cedar Swamps. The country back of the swamps does not differ from any other part of Southern New Jersey. There is the same abundance of sand, pine trees, dwarf oaks, mosquitoes and green flies everywhere.

The majority of the Barnegat pirates lived at or near the mouth of Forked river. All were watermen and many owned boats stout enough to cross Barnegat bay on the stormiest night. Then, as it is now, every coast native over eighteen years of age was a captain and every pirate whose name has been handed down to this generation has that handle to his cognomen. Tradition and the salty historians of Ocean county have it that Captain Tom Paxon, who had been the mate of a slaver, was the first professional wrecker and shore pirate on Long Beach, but the hermit of Big Swamp, who was a wrecker himself and should know, declares that Captain Jack Norton, who was at one time a local Magistrate, is entitled to the credit that is given to Captain Paxon. All, however, agree that Paxon was a leader of the band.

All vessels bound in for Sandy Hook make their course very near the Jersey coast and the pirates took advantage of this and by false lights on stormy nights lured many vessels to destruction. Paxon's wife was a [biracial] woman and he had three sons--big, brawny ruffians--who were famous along the coast as whisky drinkers and rough-and-tumble fighters. Captain Job Manly, who, although sixty-eight years of age, commands a yacht that carries people from the mainland to the Beach, is in his way an oracle.

"Know them Paxons?" repeated Captain Job, as he shifted the tiller to his left hand in order that his right could be more freely used in emphasizing his remarks; "why, that was I know Tom Paxon like an old red dog; knowed the whole caboodle of 'em, in fact, though I never did 'sociate with 'em. I was a young sort of a chap then, but my old man he used to say there never was a Manly cut out for a pirate. 'Twasn't because we was skeerish, cause, by Jinks, if I do say it myself, as shouldn't, we was a fightin' family.

BURIED IN THE SEA

"Why,continued the ancient mariner, "my old man plugged a feller--. Oh yes, about Paxon. Well, the first time I heerd much about Captain Tom was along in the thirties. That was when a coaster came ashore down near Squan, and next day old Captain Heber--by Jinks! he was a good old man; use-ter ride a circuit, he did--well, Captain Heber he found a sailor half buried in the sand on the beach, and when he dug the body out the skull was smashed with a club. Well, the old man was such a good old man that he was 'stonished at sich goins on, and he came to Barnegat and raised a dickens of a fuss. Next morning a lot of people went over to get the body and bury it decent, but when they got there all they found was a trail through the sand where some one had dragged the body down on the ebb tide and chucked it into the sea.
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Everybody believed the Paxons caught that poor, miserable, unfortunate sailor after he swam ashore and, so as to keep his mouth shut about a false light on shore, they brained him. Well, it wa'n't long after that when some fishermen near Cedar creek found the corpses of two men lying on the beach, and by Jinks, they had been strangled to death, for all around their throats were hand-marks. They had been robbed, for their pockets were turned inside out, and a little way up the beach the fishermen found a letter and some scraps of paper that must have belonged to the sailors. No, nothing ever came of that, but Captain Paxon came a-floating around in a day or so in a mighty nice life-boat. He told my old man that he picked her up on the beach, but my old man he always said that air yawl brought them two murdered sailors ashore."

"Captain Job, can you remember what kind of a looking man Tom Paxon was?"

"Well, not exactly," replied the oracle, thoughtfully, "'cept he was a biggish sort of a man, with one eye. I knowed his boy, Abe, first rate. Abe was a wrecker, like the old man. That's the feller married big Mag Odell; you offen heard me speak about big Mag, hain't you, Captain John?" said the ancient narrator, appealing to a weather-beaten young man who sat smoking on the shady side of the sail.
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Captain John answered, "Um, hum," and Captain Job went on: "The Odells and Hollidays and Nortons and Perlys and a lot more people got going together and respectable people had to take a back pew and keep their mouths shut."

DECEIVED BY FALSE LIGHTS

"Every night a storm came up you'd see a gang sailing over to the beach. There ain't many people living around here now, but there was a good deal fewer here then. Whenever there was a wreck on the beach most everybody used to turn out and save things that came ashore. Nothing wrong in that, you know; but when Paxon and Holliday and that crew got to doing wrong, no decent people would go with them and they had nearly all the night jobs to themselves. I tell you, no one will ever know how many poor fellows came ashore on that beach, only to be cast back by them devils."

At this point Captain Job became so lost in his subject that he dropped the tiller and as the yacht went about the boom dislodged young Captain John and swept him, pipe and all into the bay. When Captain John was picked up and the yacht put back on her course the commander was corked up. The accident had evidently put the old man out of humor, but he came around again in a few minutes, when the dripping Captain John said: "Captain Job, how about the pirate's cow?"

The old man's eyes kindled and he said: "By Jinks, that'so. I forgot all about her. Gentlemen, you know when it was blowing a gale them wreckers, or pirates as they call 'em, used to build a big fire on the beach in front of the sand hills and out of sight from any place but the sea. Then the man at the wheel, thinking it was a lighthouse, would steer in and wreck the vessel. The fire worked all right, but when the sailors came ashore they discovered how they had been drawed in. So the wreckers wanted some kind of a big light that they could put away quick after a vessel got in the breakers. Well, some how or other they got hold of a big ship lantern. Some said she'd hold a bucketful of oil. Then Captain Holliday he took over a cow on a raft and turned her loose on the beach. After that, when the weather was bad outside, they'd lash that big lantern on that cow, light the wick and lead the innocent old beast up and down the beach. That light would deceive any sailor in the world 'cause it kept moving slowly and gradually, drawing the ship into the breakers, and then you know all they had to do to hide the light was to turn the cow around, or they could put it out in a jiffy, drive off the beast and no one but themselves would know anything about it. They say the cow worked like a charm, but you couldn't blame her, 'cause she didn't have no idea what she was doing.

Any number of reputable people substantiate Captain Job's description of this wonderful bovine. She was kept on the island eight or ten years and carefully cared for every winter. When Abe Paxon was arrested in 1847 for robbing a wrecked vessel the cow, with the what other personal property, was sold by his wife to obtain enough money to engage a lawyer to defend her husband. The cow was bought by Judge William M. Hawley, of Ocean county, who kept her as a curiosity until she died of old age. Captain Israel Holmes, of Barnegat, declared that when he feasted his eyes on the old cow just before the war "she was about twelve hands high and the skinniest-looking thing" he ever saw.

When Captain Job finished his interesting account of the peculiarities of the wreckers' cow the yacht had reached the island on which the beast had performed such excellent service for her employers.

A dozen guests and as many natives lolled around on the porch of the hotel. The guileless landlord, with a frankness that is not common with owners of summer resorts, was telling a group of new arrivals who inquired about the insect life on the island that a few evenings before a south wind brought up a cloud of mosquitoes that darkened the sky and sent a drove of cattle on the beach bellowing into the surf with tails as erect and rigid as jackstaffs. The newly arrived guests shuddered at the picture this primitive boniface drew. Of course, the landlord is a captain. So is the cook and the barber and the hostler and even the sad-looking young man who mixes solferino-colored cocktails.

It is Captain Ben Peters, however, who, after Captain Job Manley, knows most about Barnegat pirates, and he tells what he knows without coaxing. He began where Captain Job stopped, and for four hours reeled off piratical stories that must have made the flesh of some of his nervous hearers creep.
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He was a young man when a French ship called the Liberty, loaded with silks and other valuables, was wrecked on Long Beach. The beach was alive with wreckers that night, and when the crew came ashore in life-boats they were hurried across the island, carried over the bay and deposited near Barnegat pier by the pirates. The vessel was beached and went to pieces and the shore was covered with valuable goods. These goods, principally silks, were loaded on the wreckers' vessels in the bay and taken to secret hiding places in Cedar swamp, near Forked river.