four vessels which constituted the American Navy), Lieutenant Jones
assisted in an expedition against Fort Nassau, New Providence Island,
in the Bahamas, which was a complete and absolute failure. On the way
home, and when passing the end of Long Island, his boat was chased by
the twenty-gun sloop-of-war _Glasgow_. The long shot kicked up a lot
of spray around the fleet American vessel, but it was of no use. Jones
got away and sailed into Newport Harbor, Rhode Island, with sails full
of holes and stern-posts peppered with lead. But he was created a
Captain; placed in command of the _Providence_--sloop-of-war, fourteen
guns and one hundred and seven men--and soon harried the seas in
search of fighting and adventure. With him were two faithful negro
boys--Cato and Scipio--who followed him through the many vicissitudes
of the Revolutionary War.
The seas traversed by the _Providence_ were full of English
cruisers--superior in size to the saucy American--but inferior in
alertness and resources of her commander and her crew. She captured
sixteen vessels--of which eight were sent to port and eight were
destroyed at sea. Twice she was chased by British frigates, and, on
one of these occasions, narrowly escaped capture.
As the little sloop was running into one of the many harbors of the
coast, a fast-sailing frigate bore down upon her from the starboard
quarter.
_Whang!_
Her bow-guns spoke and said "Heave to!"
But Captain Jones had heard this call before, and kept on upon his
course.
"She's got me," said he. "But, as the breeze is fresh I may run away.
Stand ready, Boys, and let go your tackle immediate, when I give the
command!"
The helm was now put hard-up and the _Providence_ crept into the wind.
Closer and closer came the brig--now her bow-guns sputtered--and a
shot ricochetted near the lean prow of the _Providence_. But the sloop
kept on.
Suddenly--just as the brig drew alongside--Paul Jones swung his rudder
over, wore around in the wind, and ran dead to leeward.
"Watch her sniffle!" cried the gallant Captain, as the brig
_chug-chugged_ on the dancing waves, and, endeavoring to box short
about, came up into the wind. But fortune favored the American
skipper. Just then a squall struck the Englishman; she lost steering
way; and hung upon the waves like a huge rubber ball, while her
Captain said things that cannot be printed.
When in this condition, Jones ran his boat within half gun-shot, gave
her a dose of iron from one of his stern-guns, and--before the
frigate could get squared away--was pounding off before the wind,
which was the sloop's best point of sailing.
"Well," said the crafty John Paul, his face wreathed in smiles. "If
the frigate had simply followed my manoeuver of wearing around under
easy helm and trimming her sails as the wind bore, I could not have
distanced her much in the alteration of the course, and she must have
come off the wind very nearly with me, and before I could get out of
range.
"I do not take to myself too great credit for getting away. I did the
best that I could, but there was more luck than sense to it. A good or
bad puff of wind foils all kinds of skill one way or the other--and
this time when I saw the little squall cat's-pawing to windward--I
thought that I would ware ship and see if the Britisher wouldn't get
taken aback. The old saying that 'Discretion is the better part of
valor' may, I think, be changed to 'Impudence is--or may be,
sometimes--the better part of discretion.'"
Two kinds of news greeted the slippery sailor when he arrived in port.
One was a letter from Thomas Jefferson, enclosing his commission as
Captain in the Continental Navy, by Act of Congress. The other--an
epistle from his agents in Virginia, informing him that, during the
month of July previous, his plantation had been utterly ravaged by an
expedition of British and Tories (Virginians who sided with England in
the war) under Lord Dunmore. His buildings had all been burned; his
wharf demolished; his livestock killed; and every one of his
able-bodied slaves of both sexes had been carried off to Jamaica to
be sold. The enemy had also destroyed his growing crops; cut down his
fruit trees; in short, nothing was left of his once prosperous and
valuable plantation but the bare ground.
"This is part of the fortunes of war," said Jones. "I accept the
extreme animosity displayed by Lord Dunmore as a compliment to the
sincerity of my attachment to the cause of liberty."
Bold words, well spoken by a bold man!
"But," continued the able sailor, "I most sadly deplore the fate of my
poor negroes. The plantation was to them a home, not a place of
bondage. Their existence was a species of grown-up childhood, not
slavery. Now they are torn away and carried off to die under the
pestilence and lash of Jamaica cane-fields; and the price of their
poor bodies will swell the pockets of English slave-traders. For this
cruelty to those innocent, harmless people, I hope sometime, somehow,
to find an opportunity to exact a reckoning."
Again bold sentiments,--and the reckoning, too, was forthcoming.
"I have no fortune left but my sword, and no prospect except that of
getting alongside of the enemy," wrote the impoverished sea-captain to
a Mr. Hewes.
This prospect also was to soon have ample fulfilment.
Ordered to take command of the _Alfred_, Captain Jones made a short
cruise eastward, in 1776, accompanied by the staunch little
_Providence_. The journey lasted only thirty-three days, but, during
that time, seven ships of the enemy fell into the clutches of the two
American vessels.
"Aha!" cried Captain Jones, as he rubbed his hands. "This looks more
propitious for our cause. We have taken the _Mellish_ and the
_Biddeford_. Let us break into them and see how much of the King's
treasure has been secured."
And it was indeed good treasure!
The _Mellish_ was found to contain ten thousand complete uniforms,
including cloaks, boots, socks and woollen shirts, for the winter
supply of General Howe's army; seven thousand pairs of blankets; one
thousand four hundred tents; six hundred saddles and complete cavalry
equipments; one million seven hundred thousand rounds of fixed
ammunition (musket cartridges); a large quantity of medical stores;
forty cases of surgical instruments; and forty-six soldiers who were
recruits sent out to join the various British regiments then serving
in the Colonies.
The larger prize--the _Biddeford_--carried one thousand seven hundred
fur overcoats for the use of the Canadian troops; eleven thousand
pairs of blankets, intended partly for the British troops in Canada,
and partly for the Indians then in British pay along the northern
frontier; one thousand small-bore guns of the type then known as the
"Indian-trade smooth-bore," with hatchets, knives, and boxes of flint
in proportion, to arm the redskins. There were eight light six-pounder
field guns and complete harness and other equipage for the two
four-gun batteries of horse-artillery. Also some wines and table
supplies for Sir Guy Carleton and a case of fine Galway duelling
pistols for a British officer then serving in Canada.
"These I will appropriate as mine own portion," cried Captain Jones.
"And also a share of the wines, for I must have something to drink the
health of mine enemy in." And--so saying--he chuckled gleefully. It
had been a rich haul.
But the Captain was not happy. His pet project was to cruise in
European waters, and he wanted to get near the British coast with a
ship--or better--a squadron of some force.
"Cruises along the American coast," said he, "will annoy the enemy and
result in capture of small ships and consorts from time to time. But
who--forsooth--will hear of this in Europe? We will add nothing to our
prestige as a new nation if we win victories upon this side of the
ocean."
All who heard him were much impressed by the vehement earnestness of
his arguments.
"You have had so much success, Mr. Jones," said they, "that we feel
you will have still greater good fortune in future years."
And Jones said to himself: "Oh, if I only could get the chance!"
It soon came, for on June the 14th, 1777, the Continental Congress
passed the following resolution:
"_Resolved:_ That Captain John Paul Jones be appointed to command the
ship _Ranger_" (a brand-new sloop-of-war which had just been launched
at Portsmouth, N. H.).
This boat was designed to carry a battery of twenty long six-pounders
and was planned expressly for speed. She was one hundred and sixteen
feet long, twenty-eight feet in breadth, and her bottom was covered
with copper: the first American ship to be thus protected. Captain
Jones put fourteen long nine-pounders in her and only four
six-pounders, but even then she was top-heavy.
In spite of the fact that it was not quite safe to carry full sail, if
clearing to windward, close-hauled in squally weather; when running
free--before the wind--she could course through the water like a
jack-rabbit. In outward appearance she was a perfect beauty, and, as
she was rather low in the water for her length, and her masts raked
two or three degrees more than any other ship of the day, she was--on
the whole--the sauciest craft afloat. Jones was delighted.
"I have the best crew I have ever seen," said he. "I believe it is the
best in the world. They are nearly all native Americans, and the
proportion of able seamen to the total is much beyond the average. I'm
going to make one or two short runs off the coast--a day or two at a
time--to shake down the sails and find the best trim of the ship. Then
away to the shores of England and France!"
He waited impatiently for orders to proceed across the blue Atlantic.
On October the 18th, 1777, a courier raced frantically into
Portsmouth, crying,
"Burgoyne has surrendered! Burgoyne has surrendered!" And Jones'
impatience to be off increased ten-fold.
There were no details of the American victory, for the courier had
reached the sleepy New England town from the field of Stillwater, in
about thirty hours, and it was one hundred and forty-seven miles--as
the crow flies--or, about one hundred and seventy-five by the shortest
road. He had stopped only long enough to saddle a fresh horse and
shift his saddle, eating his meals in the stirrups, and never thinking
of rest until he had shouted his tidings for three full days. The
patriot country was wild with enthusiasm.
"I will spread the news in France in thirty days," said Jones, when
his dispatches were placed in his hands, about midnight of October
the thirty-first. And, running by the whirling eddies of
"Pull-and-be-damned" Point, he soon had the _Ranger_ clear of the
low-lying Isle of Shoals: the sea cross and choppy, but the good
ship bowling along before a fresh gale of wind.
"I had sailed with many Captains," writes Elijah Hall, second
Lieutenant of the staunch, little vessel, "but I never had seen a ship
crowded as Captain Jones drove the _Ranger_. The wind held
northeasterly and fresh 'til we cleared Sable Island and began to draw
on to the Banks. Then it came northeast and east-northeast with many
snow squalls, and thick of nights."
Imagine the situation of the _Ranger_'s crew, with a top-heavy,
cranky ship under their feet, and a Commander who day and night
insisted on every rag she could stagger under, without laying clear
down!
As it was, she came close to beam-ends more than once, and on one
occasion righted only by letting-fly her sheets cut with hatchets.
During all this trying work Captain Jones was his own navigating
officer, keeping the deck eighteen or twenty hours out of the
twenty-four; often serving extra grog to the men with his own hands;
and, by his example, silencing all disposition to grumble. In the
worst of it, the watch and watch was lap-watched, so that the men
would be eight hours on to four off; but no one complained. It speaks
well alike for commander and crew that not a man was punished or even
severely reprimanded during the terrific voyage.
But Captain Jones made good his boast. He actually did land at
Nantes--upon the coast of France--early in the morning of December
second, 1777, thirty-two days out from Portsmouth. His crew were
jubilant, and sang a song which ran:
"So now we had him hard and fast,
Burgoyne laid down his arms at last,
And that is why we brave the blast,
To carry the news to London!
Heigh-ho! Carry the News!
Go! Go! Carry the News!
Tell old King George that he's undone!
He's licked by the Yankee squirrel gun.
Go!
Go!
Carry the news to London!"
And Captain John made haste to proceed to Paris, placing the
dispatches in the hands of Dr. Franklin early upon the fifth day of
December,--travelling two hundred and twenty miles in sixty hours. He
returned to his ship about the middle of the month, to find that
several of the crew were mutinous.
"See here, Captain," said one--a seaman from Portsmouth, New
Hampshire--"Me and my pals enlisted at home after readin' a hand-bill
which said that we wuz to get $40.00 apiece extra, for this cruise.
Now, your young Lieutenant tells us that the reg'lations of Congress
say that we are to only get th' reg'lar salary allotted by those old
pals, who make our laws. We came with you thinkin' that we wuz ter git
this money, and, by gum, we intend to git it!"
"Calm yourself, my good fellow," said Jones soothingly. "If the
hand-bill said that you were to receive $40.00 you shall have it. You
shall get this sum even if I have to pay it myself."
And this he did.
"I would not deceive any man who has entered or may enter, to serve in
my command," remarked John Paul Jones. "I consider myself as being
under a personal obligation to these brave men, who have cheerfully
enlisted to serve with me, and I accept their act as a proof of their
good opinion of me, which I value so highly, that I cannot permit it
to be dampened in the least degree, by misunderstanding, or failure to
perform engagements. I wish all my men to be happy and contented. The
conditions of the hand-bills will be strictly complied with."
Accordingly he disbursed one hundred and forty-seven guineas (about
$800.00) out of his own pocket, in making good the terms of the
hand-bill. Is it any wonder that the gallant seaman was popular with
his followers?
But the _Ranger_ lay at Brest--eager for action--her light sails
furled; her spars shining with new varnish; her polished guns winking
in the rays of the sun.
"Come, my Hearties!" cried Captain Jones on April the 10th, "we'll hie
us out to the west coast of Ireland and see if our new ship cannot
make a good name for herself."
Sails were hoisted upon the staunch, little vessel. Her bow was turned
toward the ocean--and--with the new flag of the infant republic
fluttering from her masts, the _Ranger_ went forth for battle, for
plunder, and for glory. She was to get a little of each.
Arriving off the coast of Cumberland, and, learning from fishermen
decoyed on board, that there was a large amount of shipping in the
harbor of Whitehaven, with no warship of superior force in the
neighborhood to protect it, the bold American skipper resolved to make
a dash into this quiet cove, with a view of destroying the ships there
in port. The British authorities had no suspicion of his presence in
the Irish Sea.
As the _Ranger_ drew near to Whitehaven, the wind blew such a gale
from the southwest, that it was impossible to land a boat.
"We must hold off until the breeze slackens!" cried bold Captain
Jones. "This cannot last forever, and our opportunity will soon be
here."
Sure enough--the wind died out about midnight of April 22nd--and the
_Ranger_ beat up towards the town. When about five hundred yards from
the shore, the vessel was hove to--two boats were lowered--and
twenty-nine seamen, with third Lieutenant Wallingford, Midshipmen
Arthur Green and Charles Hill, jumped into them. With Jones in command
they hastened toward the coast.
The surprise was complete. Two small forts lay at the mouth of the
harbor, but, as the seamen scrambled ashore, they were precipitately
abandoned by the garrison of "coast-guards." Captain Jones, Midshipman
Green, and six men rushed shouting upon one of these, capturing it
without an effort; the other was taken by Lieutenant Wallingford and
eight sailors,--while four were left behind as a boat-guard. A few
pistols spattered, a few muskets rang; but, when the stout sea-dogs
reached the tidal basin, where the shipping lay, the townsfolk were
thoroughly aroused. Burning cotton was thrown on board of the ships
lying at anchor, but only one took fire. It was full daylight, and the
insignificance of Jones' force became evident to the townsfolk, who
were rallying from all directions.
"Retreat to the ships," shouted the Yankee Captain, "there is no time
to lose!"
The landing party--small as it was--had become separated into two
groups; one commanded by Jones, the other by Wallingford. Thinking
that Wallingford's party was, for the moment, more seriously menaced
than his own, Jones attacked and dispersed--with his dozen men--a
force of about one hundred of the local militia who were endeavoring
to retake the lower fort, or battery, whose guns had been spiked by
the Americans. The townsfolk and coast-guards had joined and were
making a vigorous assault upon Wallingford. But shots flew thick and
fast from the muskets of the followers of the daring Paul Jones--as
they retreated to their own boats. The whole landing party--with the
exception of one man--finally leaped safely into the boat, and were on
board the _Ranger_ before the sun was an hour over the horizon.
Jones was delighted.
"The actual results of this affair," said he, "are of little moment,
as we destroyed but one ship. The moral effect--however--is very
great, as it has taught the English that the fancied security of their
coasts is a Myth."
In fact this little raid of the valiant John Paul made the Government
take expensive measures for the defense of numerous ports hitherto
relying for protection upon the vigilance and supposed omnipotence of
the navy. It also doubled the rates of marine insurance; which was the
most grievous damage of all.
"Now to attack a castle!" cried Jones, "and bag an Earl, too, if he is
around!"
The _Ranger_ was headed for Solway Firth--not more than three hours'
sail away--where, upon St. Mary's Isle, was the castle of the Earl of
Selkirk.
"If we can catch the noble owner of this keep," said John Paul, "we
will hold him as hostage for the better treatment of American
prisoners in England."
As luck would have it, the Earl was away at this particular time, and,
although the wild sea-dogs of the _Ranger_ carried off several pieces
of silverware from the castle, this was all that was captured. Lucky
Earl! But, had he fallen into the clutches of John Paul, he would have
been treated with the greatest consideration, for the Captain of the
_Ranger_ was the most chivalrous of conquerors.
The _Ranger_ stood across the Irish Channel and next day ran into some
fisher boats.
"Ah! Ha!" laughed one of the sons of Ireland. "The _Drake_--the
guard-ship at Carrickfergus--is after you, and she's a twenty-gun
sloop-of-war."
John Paul smiled.
"To lessen trouble," said he, "I'll heave-to off the mouth of Belfast
Lough and wait for her to work out. This will save her the pains of
coming after me."
So he luffed his ship, lay to, and waited for the _Drake_ to sail on.
Her white sails could be seen more clearly as she neared the
adventurous American. A boat was sent out to reconnoitre--but--as it
approached, it was surrounded by tenders from the _Ranger_; a
midshipman and five men in her, were made prisoners. Tide and wind
were both against the _Drake_; she came on slowly; and, at an hour
before sundown, was just within hail. The sea was fairly smooth, the
wind southerly and very light.
"What ship is that?" sounded from the deck of the _Drake_.
"The American Continental ship _Ranger_," rang the clear reply. "Lay
on! We are waiting for you!"
Both ships bore away before the wind and neared each other to within
striking distance. _Boom!_ a broadside roared from the side of the
_Drake_, and the fight had begun.
_Crash! Crash!_ Muskets spoke from the rigging of the _Ranger_, where
several seamen had climbed in the endeavor to pick off the gunners on
the deck of the British warship. There were one hundred and
fifty-seven men upon the _Drake_; Paul Jones had one hundred and
twenty-six. The _Drake_'s battery was sixteen nine-pounders and four
sixes. Thus--you see--the advantage was clearly with the Britishers.
Both boats swung along under full canvas, pounding away at each other
like prize-fighters. Spars were shattered; sails ripped; masts
splintered in the hail of iron. And--as the fight progressed--it could
be plainly seen that the marksmanship of those upon the _Drake_ was
infinitely less accurate than that of the Americans.
"Every shot of our men told," said Jones--not long afterwards. "They
gave the _Drake_ three broadsides for two, right along, at that. The
behavior of my crew in this engagement more than justifies the
representations I have often made, of what American sailors would do,
if given a chance at the enemy in his own waters. We have seen that
they fight with courage on our own coast--but fought here, almost
in hail of the enemy's shore."
[Illustration: From "The Army and Navy of the United States."
"BEGAN TO HULL THE 'DRAKE' BELOW THE WATER-LINE."]
As the two ships were going off the wind, which was light, they both
rolled considerably, and together; that is, when the _Ranger_ went
down to port, the _Drake_ came up to starboard. The gunners upon the
quarter-deck of the _Ranger_ timed their guns, so that they were fired
as their muzzles went down and the enemy's side arose. By this
practice they began to hull the _Drake_ below the water-line.
"Sink the English! Sink the English!" cried the powder-blackened
fighters.
But Captain Jones thought differently.
"Don't sink her!" he yelled to gunner Starbuck, above the din of
battle. "I want to take her alive, instead of destroying her; for it
will be much more to our advantage if we carry her as a visible prize
into a French port."
"All right, Cap'n!" shouted his men. "We'll cripple her aloft!"
They now fired as the muzzles rose, and, so terrific were their
broadsides, that the fore and main topsail-yards came tumbling across
the starboard quarter, in a tangle of ropes, sails, and rigging.
"Rake her! Rake her!" shouted Jones to his men.
The _Ranger_ luffed and crossed the stern of the _Drake_ with the
purpose of spanking a full broadside down her decks. The British boat
was badly crippled and had lost steering way.
But, before the well-aimed guns belched another destructive volley
into the shattered Englishman, a white flag went aloft, and a voice
came: "Hold your fire. We surrender!" The _Drake_ was a
prisoner-of-war.
Thus Paul Jones had won a notable victory, and thus he had proved that
the British were not invincible, and could be defeated, upon the sea,
by their own cousins, as readily as upon the land.
When the _Ranger_ lay in the harbor of Brest, a few days later, with
the _Drake_ alongside, boats crowded about in order to view the vessel
which had captured another,--larger than herself. And, as the _Ranger_
had taken three merchant ships on the way to the coast of France, the
black eyes of the natives shone with beady lustre as they gazed upon
the graceful hull of the victorious sloop-of-war from Portsmouth, New
Hampshire.
"See Monsieur Jones," said they, as they nudged each other. "Voila!
Here is a man who is better than our own sailors. Look at this
American sea-devil!"
And the chest of John Paul Jones swelled with pride.
Eager and active, the gallant Commodore was most unhappy during the
next few months, for the _Ranger_ was ordered back to America--under
his Lieutenant Simpson. Twenty-seven of his crew, however, elected to
remain and fight with him, when he should get another command,--among
them a little Narragansett Indian called Antony Jeremiah.
"Me like to see big gun shoot," said he. "Me like to walk on deck of
enemy's big boat when you take it! Byme-by we take bigger ship than
_Drake_ and kill heap more enemy! Ugh! Ugh!"
At this John Paul laughed.
"Antony Jeremiah," said he, "you shall witness one big fight if you
stay with John Paul. You wait and see!"
And what John Paul had said soon came to pass.