This gentleman was one of the old fashioned commodores, a capital sailor, an intrepid warrior, and a thorough going patriot. He was born in Baltimore, in 1759. He entered the marine early in life. At the age of sixteen he served in the expedition of Commodore Hopkins to the Bahama Islands, and continued in active service through the whole revolutionary war.

In 1780 he was captured by a British seventy-four, when taking a prize into port and sent with other prisoners to England. On the passage, the prisoners amounting to about sixty were confined in the most loathsome of dungeons, without light or pure air, and with a scanty supply of provisions.

They thought when they arrived at Plymouth, that their privations were at an end; but they were only removed to another prison-ship, which, although dirty and crowded, was, in some measure, better than the one they had left. From this, contrary to expectation, as soon as they were so much recovered as to be able to walk, they were brought on shore and confined in Mill prison, where they met the anxious faces of several hundred American prisoners, who had undergone the same privations as themselves.

This prison was surrounded by two strong walls, twenty feet apart, and was guarded by numerous sentries. There were small gates in the walls, and these were placed opposite each other, the inner one generally remaining open. The prisoners were allowed the privilege of the yard nearly all day, and this set the inventive mind of Barney upon the scheme, which, in the end, terminated in his liberty; not, however, without infinite danger and trouble. He set about finding out some small chance which might afford the least hope of release; and having discovered one of the sentries that had served in the United States, and remembered the kindness with which he had been there treated, Barney and he formed the means of escape. It was arranged that Barney should affect to have hurt his foot and obtain a pair of crutches, and thus lull suspicion.

On the 18th of May, 1781, he habited himself in the undress uniform of a British officer, the whole covered with a old greatcoat, and, by the aid of the sentinel, cleared the prison; when he threw off the coat, and soon arrived at the house of a well known friend to the American cause, in Plymouth. That he might not be soon missed, he got a lad, who, after answering to his own name, was to get out, and answer to Barney’s, in the yard, which little stratagem succeeded admirably. When Barney arrived at the friend’s house, he made preparations to leave as soon as possible, well knowing that if any of the British were detected harboring him, they would be convicted of high treason. In the evening, therefore, he departed to the house of his friend’s father, at a considerable distance, where he would be safer. On arriving there, he was surprised to find two of his old friends Americans who had been, for some time, anxiously waiting for an opportunity of returning home, and now thought that the time had arrived.

Lieutenant Barney determined to sail for the French coast, and, for this purpose, he and the two gentlemen purchased a small fishing vessel, and habiting themselves in some fishermen’s old apparel, they set sail on their intended voyage. Admiral Digby’s fleet lay at the mouth of the river, and our adventurers had to pass through the midst of them, and then run the chance of capture by the numerous British cruisers, which continually ply about the channel. This was a daring undertaking, as the fleet, he thought, had doubtless received notice of his escape, and the enemy would be rigid in their search. He, therefore, determined to act with coolness, and, if intercepted, to give such answers to the questions put to him, as might best lull suspicion. If he was detected, he would pay for the attempt with his life.

He knew that if his escape was detected, it would be immediately communicated to the fleet, and thus lessen his chances; especially as the least unusual appearance in his assumed character, would excite immediate suspicion. Even should he be able to pass through the fleet, the British channel abounded with the English cruisers, which were quite adept in the art of picking up stragglers. With these dangers painted in lively colors before his eyes, he preserved his usual self-possession, and inspired with confidence his companions, who had never handled a rope, and relied exclusively upon his daring.

By sunrise, the next morning, they were “under way,” the two gentlemen remaining below, and Lieutenant Barney and the servant being the only ones on deck, to avoid suspicion. With a good breeze, and a favorable tide, it was not long before they were in the midst of the hostile fleet, which seemed to take no notice of them. Their hearts beat quick when they were thus hanging between life and death; but as soon as the last of the enemy was passed, they declared themselves safe through that portion of the ordeal.

But what attempt ever ended to the satisfaction of the undertaker? Before the enemy were clear out of sight, the practised eye of Barney caught a sail which he knew to be bearing down upon him. He saw that resistance was out of the question; but that if he managed the affair adroitly he might escape. It was now that he was called upon to exercise that firmness of mind, coolness and contempt of danger, and quickness of resource in time of need, that ever distinguished his character, and showed him to be a man of no ordinary talents. In less than an hour the privateer for such she was came alongside, and sent an officer to see “what he wanted steering for a hostile coast.” The first questions that were put, and answered unhesitatingly, were what he had on board? and where he was bound? Of course he had nothing on board, and his destination was France on business of importance from the ministry; at the same time untying the rope that bound the old coat around him, and displaying the British half uniform. The officer touched his hat, begged pardon, and said he would go on board and report to the commanding officer.

The result of the interview was that Barney was made a prisoner once more, and ordered with a prize-master to Plymouth. But being forced by stress of weather into a small bay, near Plymouth, he contrived to escape from his captors, and find his way to the mansion of the venerable clergyman, at Plymouth. Deeming it unsafe to remain there, lest he might be discovered, after a few days he set out at midnight in a postchaise for Exeter, and from thence by stages to Bristol, where he had a letter of credit to an American gentleman.

Here he remained for three weeks, and from thence he went to London, directed to a countryman, who received him kindly, and offered his services towards effecting his final escape. After remaining here for six weeks, he found an opportunity of sailing for France; and after an extremely boisterous and squally passage, reached Ostend, from whence he soon found his way to Amsterdam, where he seized the opportunity of paying his respects to Mr. John Adams, then Minister Plenipotentiary from the United States to Holland. Through the courtesy of this gentleman, he obtained a passage to his own country, and, after some adventures, reached Philadelphia, on the 21st of March, 1782.

But he was not long allowed to enjoy the pleasure which he expected, after such a trial of danger and fatigue. In less than a week after he arrived at Philadelphia, he was offered the command of the Hyder Ally, of sixteen guns, fitted out by the state authorities of Pennsylvania, to repress the enemy’s privateers, with which the Delaware river abounded.

On the 8th of April, 1782, he entered upon his destined service, which was to convoy a fleet of merchantmen to the capes, and to protect them from the “refugee boats,” with which the river abounded. While waiting at the capes, he was assailed by two ships and a brig belong to the enemy, who, finding him unsupported, commenced a furious attack, which he sustained with great coolness, while his convoy were safely retiring up the river. The brig came up first, and gave him a broadside as she was passing; but kept her course up the bay after the convoy, while Barney waited for the ship, which was coming up rapidly. Having approached within pistol shot, the Hyder Ally poured a broadside into her, which somewhat staggered the enemy, who thought Barney would “strike his colors.” The enemy seemed disposed to board, and was ranging alongside of him, when he ordered the quarter-master, in a loud voice, to “port the helm!” having previously given him secret instructions to put the helm hard a-starboard, which latter order was obeyed; by this manoeuvre the enemy’s jib-boom caught in the fore-rigging of the Hyder Ally, thus giving her a raking position, which Captain Barney knew how to improve. The firing on both sides was tremendous; an idea of it may be obtained from the fact, that more than twenty broadsides were fired in twenty-six minutes! In the mizzen staystail of the General Monk there were afterwards counted, three hundred and sixty-five shot-holes. During the whole of this short but glorious battle, Captain Barney was stationed upon the quarterdeck, exposed to the fire of the enemy’s musketry, which was excessively annoying, and began to be felt by the men, insomuch that Captain Barney ordered a body of riflemen, whom he had on board, to direct their fire into the enemy’s top, which immediately had the desired effect.

The capture of the General Monk was one of the most brilliant achievements in naval history. The General Monk mounted eighteen guns, and had one hundred and thirty-six men, and lost twenty men killed, and thirty-three wounded. The Hyder Ally had sixteen guns, and one hundred and ten men, and lost four men killed, and eleven wounded.

All the officers of the General Monk were wounded except one. The captain himself was severely wounded. The brig which accompanied the enemy ran ashore to avoid capture. Captain Barney now followed his convoy up to Philadelphia. After a short visit to his family, he returned to his command, where he soon captured the “Hook-’em-snivy” a refugee schooner, which had done a great deal of mischief on the Delaware river.

These captures struck such terror among the privateers, that they began to disperse to more profitable grounds. In consequence of the glorious actions, Captain Barney was presented with a gold-hilted sword, in the name of the state.