The wreck of The Martha remains one of Canada’s deadliest disasters. The ship was overloaded with desperate Loyalist refugees … and the tragedy was made worse by a shocking act of cowardice.
On September 15, 1783, the Martha departed New York City. Passenger Patrick Kennedy called her a “crazy old vessel.”
She was a thirty-year-old ship, badly worn out from gruelling wartime service. Kennedy noted she had “patched sails and a thousand splicings in the riggings.”
The Revolution was finally over. The Martha was among the last ships to escape New York before it was handed over to the Americans.
Official records say she carried 181 passengers, though she likely carried far more. The chaos of the Loyalist evacuation meant many panicked people boarded without being counted, including veterans from Chambers’ Brigade and Elizabeth Beard, who had fought the Americans in New England and Florida.
Kennedy wrote to a friend that he was heartbroken to leave: “I confess I felt great regret at leaving New York, where I had enjoyed the pleasures of local friendship, amid a circle of worthy inhabitants … even in the severity of the winter months.”
If Kennedy thought New York winters were harsh, he was in for a shock at his destination: Parrtown, Sudbury County, Nova Scotia — soon to be renamed Saint John, New Brunswick.
The voyage was two weeks long and fraught with danger. Pirates were a real threat, especially to Black Loyalists like Nancy Mosely, who risked being captured and sold as property by American raiders.
To ward off an attack, twelve ships sailed together in convoy.
Six days into the trip, strong winds tore the Martha’s mainsail in two. As repairs got underway, the rest of the fleet faced a hard decision. A fierce storm was closing in. Waiting could doom them all.
They sailed on, leaving the Martha behind.
The Martha's crew rushed to finish the repairs on the ship as the sky darkened. The next day, as she pressed on alone, the storm began.
“The storm was violent,” Kennedy wrote, “the sea high, the night rainy, dreary, dark and cold.”
Kennedy wrote that that night, at about 2 a.m., “I had just closed my eyes to an easy slumber when the vessel struck. I jumped instantly upon deck … we found she was saddled upon the rocks, without a hope of getting her off.”
They had run aground on a rock near Seal Island, Nova Scotia, just outside the Bay of Fundy.
As the waves smashed the ship against the rocks, the ship began to break up. The crew lowered the only longboat into the sea and hopped in. They rowed towards the rock, determined to free the Martha from it before she broke up.
As the longboat rounded the side of the ship, the main mast snapped, crashing down right on them. The destruction of the boat “dashed our one remaining hope, our only resource, the longboat, into pieces,” wrote Kennedy.
“Here, my dear friend, the powers of description fail,” Kennedy continued. “Words are inadequate to express the fresh consternation, the despair of my unfortunate comrades. What a dismal sight; what a melancholy spectacle! — A sudden burst of lamentation; a general cry of distress, was heard from every part of the decks — the people running about distracted, not knowing what they did; — some jumping overboard to get upon the wreck of the masts and yards alongside; others preparing to lash spars and planks together, to form a raft and commit themselves to the mercy of Providence.”
Like most ships of the time, the Martha didn’t have lifeboats as we know them today. She had one longboat — now destroyed — and a small jollyboat.
Captain John Willis delivered a solemn speech. He promised to remain with his ship until the bitter end. He urged the crew to lower the jollyboat and fill it with women and children, in hopes it might reach shore.
Kennedy and several other men struggled to launch it.
But once the jollyboat was in the water, Captain Willis “forgot his promises,” leapt over the rail, “got himself safe on board,” and rowed away.
The ship’s captain had stolen the only lifeboat to escape alone, abandoning his ship and everyone on it!
As Patrick Kennedy looked on, aghast, he was swept overboard by a wave, disappearing into the sea.
Captain Willis, meanwhile, safely rowed to shore.
Officially, 113 of the 181 Loyalist refugees aboard the Martha were confirmed dead, although the death toll was likely twice as high.
The 68 exhausted survivors of the Martha floated on debris from the ship for two days and nights.
Among them was 21-year-old Elizabeth Beard, the war heroine who had twice fought American soldiers. Not only was she carrying a baby in her arms — she was heavily pregnant with triplets.
Eventually, Acadian fishermen from Nova Scotia’s South Shore spotted the wreck and launched a rescue in their tiny boats, ferrying survivors to safety.
On the rocky shore, Elizabeth Beard gave birth to three healthy sons. She would later settle in Fredericton.
A waterlogged Patrick Kennedy would later wake up on an isolated rock, finding himself completely alone in the middle of the sea.
Eventually, an Acadian fisherman found and rescued him. Though his letter makes no mention of it, and indeed it appears that he never spoke of this again in his life, Patrick Kennedy lost both his wife and his only daughter that night.
Once Kennedy made it to shore, rescuers arrived from Shelburn. They told him that Martha’s Captain John Willis had arrived in the town, talking about how he’d tried heroically to save his ship’s passengers.
Disgusted, Kennedy sent a private letter describing the truth about what happened to a friend in Halifax. The friend sent the letter to the newspapers.
General Sir Thomas Carleton — future first governor of New Brunswick — read the letter in the newspaper and was furious. He ordered Willis’ be brought to justice.
But by then, Willis had disappeared. He was never seen or heard from again.
The wreck of the Martha is a haunting reminder of the dangers faced by Loyalist refugees. While Captain Willis vanished into infamy, stories like Patrick Kennedy’s and Elizabeth Beard’s endure — a testament to tragedy, resilience, and the unforgiving nature of the sea.
Elizabeth Beard and Nancy Mosely's stories appear in the book 'Rebellious Women In The Maritimes'
