by Captain Saltonstall, was also clearly disgruntled at the commodore's
weak attitude. But beyond muttering impatiently under his breath when he
heard Commodore Hopkins's remarks about "sleeping dogs," and nudging
Paul Jones, with flashing black eyes, Wannashego was discreet enough to
say nothing. Intuitively the brave redskin knew that his Scotch friend
felt as he did.
Toward night they entered the blue waters of Narragansett Bay. A young
moon hung trembling in the heavens. The sky was cloudless, and the stars
shone brilliantly. Wannashego slipped noiselessly up to where Paul Jones
stood on the after-deck. The Indian youth pointed down to the gurgling
green swells as they swept aft along the _Alfred's_ hull. "These are the
waters of my people, the Narragansetts," he said softly. "They touch the
land of my old home and playgrounds."
"Wannashego, do you wish to go back to your people?" asked Paul Jones
curiously.
He shook his black-locked head. "No," he answered--"if I can fight
Red-coat sea soldiers soon. But if I have to run away when see 'em, like
this, I like to go back an' ketchum whale on whaler-ship ag'in." He
ended with an expressive grunt of disgust, and took himself off as
silently as he had appeared.
Shortly after this--about midnight--the lookout on the _Alfred's_
quarter made out Block Island. It seemed that his call had hardly died
away when a cry of "Sail ho!" was heard from the direction of the
_Cabot_.
With his night-glass to his eye Commodore Hopkins saw, about a half-mile
away, the shadowy form of a ship. Captain Saltonstall also took a look
at her. Several conjectures were raised as to her identity, and then the
glass was handed to the first-lieutenant.
"What do you think she is, Mr. Jones?" asked Commodore Hopkins. He had
more confidence in Paul Jones than he dared to confess, even to himself.
"I should say she was a British frigate, sir," was the lieutenant's
prompt reply. "She is too small for a ship-of-the-line, and she does not
carry sail enough for a merchantman under this breeze. It would seem to
me that she is merely cruising about on the lookout for somebody."
"That 'somebody' is probably ourselves," answered the commodore
uneasily, "if she's a British frigate as you think. She's likely out on
scout duty, and has a squadron of sister ships somewhere nearby."
Signal lanterns were raised to the foremasthead, asking the _Cabot_, as
the ship nearest the stranger, to engage the attention of the latter.
But before the captain of the _Cabot_ could comply it was seen that the
distant ship had come about and was making straight for the two American
vessels.
The decks of the _Alfred_ and _Cabot_ were immediately cleared for
action. No drums were beat, or other unnecessary noise made. The men
worked swiftly, went silently to their quarters; the batteries were
masked and lights placed behind, while ammunition was hurried up from
the magazine-room by the powder-monkeys, the youngest members of the
crew.
The stranger bore down upon them. Presently came a hail from her deck:
"Who are you, and whither are you bound?"
The _Cabot_ made answer: "This is the _Betsy_, from Plymouth. Who are
you?"
Every ear was strained to catch the answer. It came ringing over the
clear water through the still night air:
"His Majesty's ship _Glasgow_, of twenty-four guns!"
As the _Alfred's_ battery consisted of the same number of long
9-pounders on the gun deck and six 6-pounders on the quarter-deck it
was apparent that, if the stranger had not lied, her strength in guns
must be at least a match for the Britisher. In addition to this, the
American flag-ship had the support of the little _Cabot_, with her own
fourteen guns and crew of two hundred. Commodore Hopkins felt a great
relief when he noted this. The American crews thought they would make
short work of the enemy. But not so Paul Jones. He had already seen too
much incompetence displayed on that cruise to feel anything but serious
misgivings.
It was now two-thirty in the morning. The moon had gone down. Evidently
in the darkness that prevailed the _Glasgow_ was ignorant of the fact
that there were other American ships in the little squadron, else she
would have approached with greater caution. As it happened they did not
come up during the fray which ensued, and took practically no part at
all in it.
The _Cabot_ had now got very close to the lee bow of the enemy, and
suddenly poured a broadside into her. Instantly the British ship seemed
to wake up to her danger. She wore around with all haste, and ran off to
clear for action. In twenty minutes she bore down again, this time with
a grimness of purpose that there was no mistaking.
Paul Jones was in command of the gun deck. The _Alfred_ was so heavily
laden with war trophies that she was down in the water almost to her
portsills; but the sea was calm and her lowness in no wise prevented the
free use of both her batteries, which were used with the utmost
ferocity.
The fighting was kept up until daybreak. The _Glasgow_ was hulled a
number of times, her mainmast was deeply scarred, her sails and rigging
well riddled with shot. But she had disabled the little _Cabot_ at the
second broadside from her big guns, and had then concentrated her
attention on the _Alfred_ with such good marksmanship that the
wheelblock of the American was carried away and she came helplessly up
into the wind in such a position that the enemy poured in several
disastrous broadsides before her head could be regained. In this
maneuver such poor seamanship was displayed on the part of Commodore
Hopkins and Captain Saltonstall that Paul Jones fairly boiled within
himself; but he could only hold his peace at the time. Later on, in
letters to his friends, he gave full vent to his disgust at the way the
American ships were handled; for only one commanding officer--Captain
Biddle, of the _Andrew Doria_, who gave futile but heroic chase to the
_Glasgow_--did he have particular praise.
When, with the coming of morning, the British ship retired, she was
suffered to get away by Commodore Hopkins. He seemed to be glad that she
had not stayed to do them worse damage. The brave American seamen fumed
in the privacy of the fo'c'sl' on that voyage in. Old Bill Putters
cursed at every breath whenever he was out of an officer's sight.
The Government held two courts-martial following the _Glasgow_ affair.
As a result Captain Hazard, of the _Providence_, was dishonorably
dismissed from service, and numerous other officers censured, among them
Commodore Hopkins. Undoubtedly the latter would have met with dismissal
except for powerful political influences brought to bear in his behalf.
VIII
THE YOUNG CAPTAIN
Although there was a subtle estrangement between Commodore Hopkins and
Paul Jones, each respected the other's character. At the close of the
inglorious expedition which we have dealt with, the senior officer came
to the conclusion that it would be far less embarrassing to both
concerned were the first-lieutenant of the _Alfred_ placed on some ship
other than that occupied by the chief of the squadron himself.
Therefore, with more adroitness than he had displayed in meeting the
enemy, Commodore Hopkins managed to induce Congress to offer the
energetic Scotchman a berth as commander of the _Providence_, in the
place of the dismissed Captain Hazard. He also permitted him to take
with him a few of his favorite men, among this number Wannashego, the
young Indian. The latter's joy knew no bounds at this turn of events.
His stoical Indian nature prevented any marked display of his
satisfaction, but his demeanor could not wholly hide it from the
attention of his Scotch friend.
"Now," declared Wannashego, with shining eyes, "I sure we will see some
heap big fighting. If I stay on that other ship, _Alfred_, one day
longer I sure run away to the whaler-ship or my people. That _Alfred_ no
brave-ship; just squaw-ship--'fraid to fight!"
Paul Jones smiled in sympathy. He too had felt like a different man
since the announcement of the change. Now that he had full and absolute
control of an American ship himself, he determined he should show his
countrymen and the enemy what he could really do.
The _Providence_, his new ship, was a small sloop of fourteen guns and
about a hundred men. She was far from a pretentious vessel to look at,
but Paul Jones's sharp eyes detected in her certain lines which augured
for speed, and when he once got her out into the broad reaches of the
Atlantic he found that in this surmise of her sailing abilities he had
not been misled. For her size she was a remarkably good sailer.
For a time the _Providence_ was kept employed in transporting men and
supplies along the shores at the eastern entrance of Long Island Sound,
and as this was done in the face of numerous British ships which hovered
around like so many hornets, the reputation of the new commanding
officer soon began to grow.
On August 21 Paul Jones sailed on a six-weeks' cruise--a cruise which
historians have termed the first cruise of an American man-of-war. At
least it was the first to be noted by an enemy--the first that shed any
degree of glory on the flag of the new Republic, whose Declaration of
Independence had been signed less than seven weeks previously.
It was a venture worthy of the Vikings and their rude boats, for the
seas swarmed with English frigates outranking the little vessel in
everything except the alertness of her commander and the courage of her
crew. From Bermuda to the Banks of Newfoundland he boldly sailed,
defying the fastest ships of the enemy to catch him, and striking terror
to British merchantmen and fishermen.
During the first week of September the _Providence_ sighted a large ship
which she mistook for an Indiaman homeward bound. This stranger proved
to be the _Solebay_, British frigate of twenty guns. Too late the
_Providence_ discovered her error; there was no chance to withdraw in
dignity.
The _Solebay_ immediately made for the American, who took to her heels,
relying upon her good sailing qualities to escape, as she had on many
another such occasion. But the Britisher proved she was no mean sailer
herself. In fact, she began to overhaul her foe.
The day was warm and clear. A strong breeze was blowing from the
northeast. The little _Providence_ was legging it briskly over the
wind-tossed waters. But the _Solebay_ gained on her every hour.
The chase had started about noon. By four o'clock the frigate was almost
within gunshot. The heart of everybody except the commander was in the
lower regions of his jacket. Paul Jones was serene enough; his
confidence seemed not one whit lessened. Presently he displayed the
reason for his attitude.
"Look," said he to his chief officer, as he handed him a glass; "do you
not notice that his broadside guns are still unleashed? He thinks he
can take us by firing his bow-chaser. What foolishness! Nothing would be
easier than for us to bear away before the wind and run under his
broadside."
Nearly every ounce of canvas on the _Providence_ had been flung to the
breeze. Still the _Solebay_ drew closer.
"He should know who we are before we leave him," declared Paul Jones,
with a grim smile. He uttered a quick order. The next moment the
American colors fluttered out at the masthead.
To their surprise the _Solebay_ acknowledged the courtesy by also
running up the American emblem.
"He cannot deceive us by that," said Paul Jones. "His lines tell me as
plain as day he is British. But wait; I shall show him something in a
moment!"
He called out to the man at the wheel: "Give her a good full,
Quartermaster!"
"A good full, sir!" came back the instant acknowledgment.
Paul Jones then ordered the studding-sails set. The next moment the helm
was put about, and before the astonished crew on the _Solebay_ knew
what was happening, the American sloop ran directly under his broadside,
and went off dead before the wind.
The British frigate came about in haste and confusion. But by the time
she was under headway again, the American ship was far off, her
newly-trimmed studding-sails bellying to the breeze and gaining speed at
every leap and bound. Needless to say, the _Solebay_ was now out of the
running, a very crestfallen enemy. Such clever maneuvering her commander
had never witnessed before.
Three weeks later the _Providence_ was saucily threading northern
waters.
One day, off Cape Sable, Wannashego and several others of the sailors
asked permission to try to catch some of the splendid fish which
abounded in those cold waters. As they had been on salt provisions for a
long while, Paul Jones readily consented, and the ship was hoved to. The
men got out their lines, and soon began to haul in some fine specimens
of the finny tribe.
While they fished, a sharp lookout was kept for danger from the British.
It was well this was done, apparently, for presently a sail was made
out to windward of them. At once the fishing stopped, the _Providence_
set some of her light sails, and the anchor was hauled in.
As the stranger approached, Paul Jones convinced himself that she was no
such sailer as the _Solebay_, and making sure a little later that she
was a British warship he determined to amuse himself with her. He
communicated his plans to his officers, and patiently waited for the
frigate, which turned out to be His Majesty's ship, the _Milford_.
The young captain made no move until the British craft got almost within
range, whereupon he doubled on her quarter and sped away under
restrained speed on the new course. Mistaking the rate she was traveling
at to be her best, and cheered at the thought of over-taking her, the
English captain took up the chase with gusto. For seven or eight hours
the pursuit continued, all this time the _Providence_ cunningly keeping
just beyond gunshot of her enemy, yet seeming to exert herself to the
limit in maintaining her position.
Finally getting discouraged at his want of success, the Britisher began
firing. Turning to his chief marine officer, Paul Jones said: "Direct
one of your men to load his musket, and as often as yonder enemy salutes
our flag with her great guns, do you have your man reply with his
musket!"
A broad grin spread over the marine officer's face. He soon had his man
stationed on the quarter-deck, and the next time the frigate rounded to
and sent a futile broadside in the direction of the _Providence_, the
marine elevated his musket and banged away. Several times this
performance, a perfect burlesque in the quaintness of its humor, was
indulged in. And each time, as the comparatively mild report of the
musket followed the roar of the enemy's big guns, the American sailors
laughed uproariously and cheered.
"We have had our fun now, my men," said Paul Jones. "This fellow has
swallowed our bait gloriously; the time has come for us to stop
_fishing_ and go about our business."
He thereupon ordered more sail spread, and in a short time the
astonished _Milford_--which he would have attempted to capture had she
not clearly been a more powerful vessel--was left well behind. Although
he did not know it then, the Scotch captain was to meet this foe again
within the year.
Before he returned, this bold tiger of the sea succeeded in capturing
sixteen British vessels. He also made an attack on Canso, Nova Scotia,
thereby releasing several American prisoners; burned three vessels
belonging to the Cape Breton fishery; and in a descent on the Isle of
Madame destroyed several large fishing-smacks.
When at last Paul Jones reached his own shores again he left behind him
a terrorized enemy who since that cruise have ever called him a
buccaneer and pirate. Why England should regard this valiant
sea-fighter, who never needlessly shed a drop of blood, or took a
penny's-worth of spoils out of the larder of war, in this insulting
light, its countrymen have never satisfactorily explained. But we do
know that Lord Nelson himself was never a cleaner fighter; that the very
brilliancy and extreme daring of Paul Jones's exploits stunned his
enemy, and left them in a species of stupefaction.
Welcomed home with unusual acclaim, Paul Jones found that during his
absence two things had happened which vitally concerned him. One thing
was the ravaging of his plantation by the British. His fine buildings
now lay in ashes, he was told. His splendid heifers had gone to satisfy
the appetites of the raiding soldiers under Lord Dunmore. His slaves,
who had become to him "a species of grownup children," had been carried
off to die under the pestilential lash of cruel overseers in Jamaican
canefields, while the price of their poor bodies swelled the pockets of
English slave-dealers. To his great pleasure, however, he learned that
his own overseer, canny old Duncan Macbean, had gotten away and joined
General Morgan's riflemen, presumably there to wreak vengeance on the
Red-coats with John Paul's own trusty rifle.
This was indeed a hard blow to the young captain who, in commenting upon
it, wrote to Mr. Hewes: "It appears that I have no fortune left but my
sword, and no prospect except that of getting alongside the enemy."
The second bit of news was the belated notification that, while he was
away on his cruise, Congress, on October 10, 1776, had made him a
commissioned captain in the United States Navy. It might be expected
that such an announcement would be very gratifying to him, but not so.
Paul Jones received it with more bitterness of spirit than pleasure, for
he was only number eighteen in the list of appointees. This was an
injustice which he never forgot, and to which the sensitive fellow
referred all through his subsequent life. He thought he ought to have
been not lower than sixth in rank, because, by the law of the previous
year, there were only five captains ahead of him. In the meantime, too,
he had done good service, while the new captains ranking above him were
untried.
If Paul Jones had a failing it was that of desire for prestige. Rank was
to him a passion, not merely because it would enable him to be more
effective, but for its own sake. He liked all the signs of
display--titles, epaulets, medals, busts, marks of honor of all kinds.
"How near to the heart of every military or naval officer is rank, which
opens the door to glory!" he wrote. But, mind you, Paul Jones did not
have the "swelled head." He never once over-estimated his abilities,
inwardly or outwardly; and he desired fame because he knew he was
entitled to it. If the reward failed to come after he had qualified for
and performed the service, he felt cheated--just as the day-laborer
feels cheated when he does his task and is not paid his wage.
On November 4, 1776, Paul Jones was placed in command of the _Alfred_,
the ship on which he had made his first cruise as a first-lieutenant
some nine months earlier. In company with the _Providence_, now under
the command of Captain Hacker, he made a cruise of about a month,
captured seven merchant ships, several of which carried valuable
supplies to the British army, and again cleverly avoided the superior
enemy frigates. While making for port they encountered armed transports,
the _Mellish_ and the _Bideford_, both of which had been separated from
their convoy, the _Milford_, in a terrific gale. Although larger and
heavier ships in every way, the Americans attacked and captured them.
Shortly afterward the _Milford_, accompanied by a British
letter-of-marque, put in an appearance, and gave chase. Once more Paul
Jones was too clever for the British frigate. He outsailed and
outmaneuvered her, getting away with all his prizes except the smaller
of the transports, which had fallen astern.
After his return, in early December, from the cruise in the _Alfred_,
Paul Jones served on the Board of Advice to the Marine Committee, and
was very useful in many ways. He urged strongly the necessity of making
a cruise in European waters for the sake of moral persuasion, and
offered to lead such an expedition. His energy and dashing character
made a strong impression on Lafayette, who was then in the country, and
who heartily supported the project. He wrote a letter to General
Washington, strongly recommending that Paul Jones be made head of such
an expedition.
About the same time the young captain had an interview with Washington,
in which he appealed against what he considered another injustice. The
_Trumbull_--one of the fine new American frigates just completed and
built in New Amsterdam in accordance with Paul Jones's own plans--had
been placed under the command of Captain Saltonstall, whom the Scotchman
considered incompetent.
Paul Jones did not get the _Trumbull_ after all; but the interview was
not without its effect. A little later the Marine Committee ordered him
to enlist seamen for his suggested European cruise. And on June 14,
1777, Congress appointed him to the command of the sloop-of-war
_Ranger_, of eighteen guns.
IX
ABOARD THE "RANGER"
When Paul Jones was ordered to Portsmouth to command the new
sloop-of-war _Ranger_, Congress allowed him to take with him a few of
his favorite petty officers. Of course among this number was Wannashego,
the young Narragansett. The bold Scotch captain had formed a strong
liking for Wannashego, whom he had found not only an able boatswain's
mate and an impetuous fighter, but one most devoted to his own
interests. Indeed, the young Indian fairly worshiped the decking his
splendid officer trod. They had served together ever since their first
meeting, going from the _Alfred_ to the _Providence_, then back to the
_Alfred_ again. And now they were once more to be together--this time in
a long and probably stirring voyage across the big sea, right into the
very home-waters of the enemy himself! No wonder the heart of Wannashego
stirred with happy expectation.
Another old shipmate to accompany Paul Jones on the new expedition, but
one hitherto unmentioned, was Nathaniel Fanning, now a third-lieutenant.
From this friend, a very keen observer of our hero at all times, as well
as a man of more than ordinary intelligence, we get the following
interesting description of Paul Jones:
"He was about middle height, so slender as to be wiry, so lithe as to be
compared to a panther, so quick in his movements that we sailors often
spoke of him as 'swifter than chain-lightning.' His face was as brown as
an Indian's. His eyes under ordinary conditions were a steel-gray; but
in moments of excitement you would swear they were as black as coal and
emitting sparks. Though he was not at all big, his neck, arms, and
shoulders were those of a heavy-set man, with a chest that did you good
to see. The strength of his arms and shoulders could hardly be believed;
and he had equal use of both hands, even to writing with the left as
well as with the right. He was a past-master in the art of boxing;
though there were many hard nuts to crack in the various crews he
commanded, I never knew him to come out second best. When aroused, he
could strike blows and do more damage in a second than any man I ever
saw could do in a minute. He always fought as if that was what he was
made for; it was only when he was perfectly at peace that he seemed
uneasy and restless.
"He was never petulant toward those under him. Even in cases of failure
to carry out his orders, or meet his expectations, he would be lenient.
But if he detected you in any act that was wilful or malicious, he would
assail you like a tiger. He was not a quarrelsome man; but he was the
easiest person in the world for a quarrelsome man to pick a quarrel
with. Good men all liked him; sneaks and tyrants hated him bitterly."
We may add that all records go to show that Paul Jones was as much a
father to his crew as he was a commander. He interested the sailors in
the smallest details of their work, gave them lessons in rope-splicing,
or reproved a young chap for his "lubberly walk" with a personal
demonstration of the correct swagger to be kept in mind by Jack afloat.
At the same time, with all this kindness of heart, he did not let a
single man take advantage of his goodness. "I tell you, my men," he said
on one occasion, "when I become convinced that a sailor of mine must be
given the 'cat' I will not leave it to be done by the uncertain arm of
others; but I will do it _myself_--and so confounded quick that it will
make your heads swim!"