(1747-1792)
[Illustration: Paul Jones. [TN]]
Paul Jones, the popular naval hero of the Revolution, the son of John
Paul, a gardener in Scotland, was born July 6, 1747, at a cottage on
the estate of his father's employer, Mr. Craik, at Arbigland, in the
parish of Kirkbean. His parents belonged to a respectable class of the
population of the country. The boy, as is wont with Scottish boys,
however humble, received the elements of education, but could not have
advanced very far with his books, since we find him at the age of
twelve apprenticed to the sea. The situation of Kirkbean, on the shore
of the Solway, naturally gave a youth of spirit an inclination to life
on the ocean; and he had not far to seek for employment in the
trading-port of Whitehaven, in the opposite county of Cumberland.
Paul's first adventure--the appendix of Jones was an after-thought of
his career--was in the service of Mr. Younger, a merchant in the
American trade, who sent his apprentice on a voyage to Virginia, where
an elder brother of Paul had profitably established himself at
Fredericksburg. This gave him an early introduction to the country
with which the fame of the future soldier of fortune was to be
especially identified.
The apprenticeship of Paul was of short duration. The failure of his
employer threw the youth upon his own resources; but he lost no time
in taking care of himself. His studies on shipboard had already
qualified him for the higher duties of the mercantile service; the
slave-trade, the active pursuit of those days, offered him an
engagement; he sailed for the African coast in the King George, a
vessel engaged in this infamous traffic, out of Whitehaven, and in his
nineteenth year was trusted as chief mate of the Two Friends, another
vessel of the trade, belonging to Jamaica. Having carried his human
cargo to the island, sickening of the pursuit, he sailed as a
passenger to Kirkcudbright, in his native district. Opportunities are
always presenting themselves to the watchful and the initiated. The
chief officers of the vessel died of the fever; Paul took command and
carried the ship in safety to the owners. They put him in command of
the brig, the John, on another West India voyage.
Finally, in 1771, he left Scotland never to return to it, save to
carry terror among its population. He proceeded to London; found
employment in the West India trade, and in 1773 settled himself for a
while in Virginia on the estate of his brother, to whom he had now
become heir. This was a grand turning-point of his career, and to
signalize it properly, Paul, who was somewhat of a fanciful turn,
added the name Jones to his proper appellation, John Paul.
On the organization of the infant navy of the United States, in 1775,
John Paul Jones, as he is henceforth to be called, received the
appointment of first of the first lieutenants in the service, in
which, in his station on the flag-ship Alfred, he claimed the honor of
being the foremost, on the approach of the commander-in-chief,
Commodore Hopkins, to raise the new American flag. This was the old
device of a rattle-snake coiled on a yellow ground, with the motto,
_Don't tread on me_, which is yet partially retained in the seal of
the war-office.
The first service of the new squadron was the attack upon the island
of New Providence, in which Jones rendered signal assistance. On the
return voyage, the unsatisfactory encounter with the Glasgow occurred,
which afterward resulted in the dismissal of one of the American
officers, and Jones's appointment in his place to the command of the
Providence, of twelve guns and seventy men. His exploits in this
vessel gained him his first laurels. He now received the rank of
captain, and sailed on various expeditions, transporting troops,
conveying merchantmen, out-sailing British frigates, and greatly
harassing the enemy's commercial interests. His success in these
enterprises induced Commodore Hopkins to put him in command of the
Alfred and other vessels on an expedition to the eastward, which
resulted in the capture of various important prizes of transport and
other ships, and extensive injury to the fisheries at Canso. On his
return, he was superseded in the command of the Alfred, his seniority
in the service being set aside, a grievance which led to remonstrance
on his part, and a correspondence with the Committee of Congress, in
the course of which Jones made many valuable suggestions as to the
service, and gained the friendship of that eminent business man of the
old Confederacy, Robert Morris. There appear to have been several
appointments for him in progress, when his somewhat unsettled position
became determined by the resolve of Congress to send him to France for
the purpose of taking command of a frigate to be provided for him by
the Commissioners at Paris. By the resolution of June 14, 1777, he was
appointed to the Ranger, newly built at Portsmouth, and--a second
instance of the kind--had the honor of hoisting for the first time the
new flag of the stars and stripes; at least he claimed the
distinction, for the bristling vanity of Jones made him punctilious in
these accidental matters of personal renown.
It took some time to prepare the Ranger for sea, but Jones got off on
his adventure in November, made a couple of prizes by the way, and at
the end of a month reached Nantes. Disappointed in obtaining the large
vessel which he expected, and obliged to be contented with the Ranger,
he employed his time in making acquaintance with the French navy at
Quiberon Bay, and offering valuable suggestions for the employment of
D'Estaing's fleet on the American coast. He soon determined to put to
sea on an adventure of spirit. On April 10, 1778, he sailed from Brest
on a cruise in British waters. Directing his course to the haunts of
his youth, he captured a brigantine off Cape Clear, and a London ship
in the Irish Channel; planned various bold adventures on the Irish
coast, which he was not able to carry out from adverse influences of
wind and tide, but well-nigh succeeded in burning a large fleet of
merchantmen in the docks of Whitehaven. In this last adventure, he
made a landing at night, and advanced to the capture of the
town-batteries, leaving his officers to fire the ships, of which there
were about two hundred in the port. His orders were not obeyed, either
from insufficient preparations or the relenting of his agents, when he
himself set fire to one of the largest of the vessels. It was now day,
and the people were warned by a deserter from his force, but Jones
managed to hold the whole town at bay till he made good his retreat.
This daring affair was an impromptu of Jones's genius, justified in
his view by similar depredations of the British on the American coast;
but it had an ugly look of ingratitude to the place which had
sheltered his youth, and first given him promotion in the world.
Nor was this all. He immediately crossed to his native shore of
Scotland, with the intention of seizing the Earl of Selkirk, at his
seat on the promontory of St. Mary's Isle, on the Solway, near
Kirkcudbright. Landing at the spot he ascertained that the earl was
from home. Disappointed in his object, he would have returned, when
the officers in his boat insisted upon a demand for the family plate.
Jones demurred, but yielded with the proviso that the thing was to be
done in the most delicate manner possible. His lieutenant, Simpson,
undertook the business, and introduced himself to Lady Selkirk, who
was, conveniently enough for his purposes, engaged at breakfast. She
had at first taken the party for a press-gang, and had offered them
refreshments; on being informed of the nature of their visit, their
request, backed by the armed crew at the door, was complied with.
It is said that Jones apologized personally to Lady Selkirk, and we
shall presently find him, at the first interval of leisure, taking
measures to repair the act. For the moment, however, he had more
serious work on hand. In his upward voyage along the Irish coast, he
had looked into Belfast Lough, after his Majesty's sloop-of-war Drake,
of twenty guns, which he attempted to board in a night attack by a
bold manoeuvre, which came within an ace of success. Immediately after
the affair of St. Mary's, he ran across the channel and had the
fortune to meet the Drake coming out of Carrickfergus. She was getting
to sea to check the exploits of the Ranger, which had now alarmed the
whole region. Jones desired nothing more than an encounter. As the
ship drew up she hailed the Ranger. Jones gave the reply through his
sailing-master: "The American continental ship Ranger. We are waiting
for you. Come on. The sun is little more than an hour high, and it is
time to begin!" A broadside engagement commenced, and continued at
close quarters for an hour, when the Drake surrendered. Her captain
and first lieutenant were mortally wounded, her sails and rigging
terribly cut up, and hull much shattered. The loss of the Ranger was 2
killed and 6 wounded; that of the Drake, 42. The Drake had two guns
the advantage of her adversary. The action took place on April 24th;
on May 8th, Jones having traversed the channel, carried his prize
safely into Brest.
His first thought now was to make some amends to Lady Selkirk and his
own reputation for the plundering visit of his lieutenant. He
therefore addressed to her, the very day of his landing, an
extraordinary letter--Jones was fond of letter-writing--full of
high-sounding phrases, and professions of gallantry and esteem, in the
midst of which he failed not to recite the splendid victory of the
Ranger. He drew a picture of the terrors inflicted by the British in
America; and in respect to that unfortunate plate, expressed his
intention to purchase it, in the sale of the prize, and restore it at
his own expense to the family. This, after delays and obstacles, he
finally accomplished some years later, when we are told it was all
returned as it was taken, the very tea-leaves of the parting breakfast
clinging to the tea-pot.
[Illustration: Paul Jones and Lady Selkirk.]
The affair of the Ranger, so brilliantly conducted, the short,
energetic cruise in narrow seas, so near the British naval stations,
gave Jones a great reputation for gallantry in Paris. The delays and
difficulties, however, incidental to the wretched state of the
American finances abroad, and the imperfect relation of his country
with the French court, were well calculated to cool any enthusiasm
excited by his conquest; and a man of less vivacity and perseverance
than Jones might have dropped the service. He persevered. His
lieutenant, Simpson, after various refractory proceedings, had sailed
home in the Ranger, when an arrangement was finally made with Le Ray
de Chaumont, the negotiator of the French court, to furnish a jointly
equipped and officered fleet, of which Jones was to take command. Five
vessels were thus provided, including the American frigate Alliance.
An old Indiaman, the Duke de Duras, fell to the lot of Jones. In
compliment to Dr. Franklin, one of the commissioners, and especially
in gratitude for a hint which he had accidentally lighted upon in an
odd number of that philosopher's almanac, to the effect that whoever
would have his business well done must do it himself--a suggestion by
which Jones had greatly profited in giving a final spur to his
protracted negotiations--he changed the name of his vessel, by
permission of the French Government, to the Bon Homme Richard.
Jones at length set sail, on August 14th, with his squadron. Landais,
an incompetent Frenchman in the American service, was in command of
the Alliance. It was altogether a weak, mongrel affair. The Bon Homme
Richard was unseaworthy, her armament was defective, and in her motley
crew Englishmen and foreigners outnumbered the Americans. The plan of
the cruise was to sail round the British Islands from the westward. At
Cape Clear the commander parted with two of the smaller vessels of the
squadron, which now consisted of his own ship, the Alliance, the
Pallas, and the Vengeance. The service was, however, far more impaired
by the insubordination of Landais, who evinced great jealousy of his
superior. Several prizes were taken, one of them by Jones off Cape
Wrath, at the extremity of Scotland. Traversing the eastern coast, he
arrived, with the Pallas and the Vengeance, at the Firth of Forth, and
entertained the bold idea of attacking the armed vessels at the
station, and putting not only Leith, but possibly the capital,
Edinburgh itself, under contribution. He would certainly have made the
attempt--indeed, it was in full progress--when it was defeated by a
violent gale of wind.
Jones now continued his course southwardly, casting longing eyes upon
Hull and Newcastle, when, having been joined by the Alliance, the
squadron suddenly, off Flamborough Head, fell in with the Baltic
cruisers, the Serapis, forty-four. Captain Pearson, and the Countess
of Scarborough, twenty, Captain Piercy, convoying a fleet of
merchantmen. Jones at once prepared for action. The combat which
ensued, between the Serapis and the Bon Homme Richard, is one of the
most remarkable in the annals of naval warfare, for the circumstances
under which it was fought, the persistence of the contest, and the
well-matched valor of the commanders. The engagement was by moonlight,
on a tranquil sea, within sight of the shore, which was crowded with
spectators, who thronged the promontory of Flamborough Head and the
piers of Scarborough. After various preliminary manoeuvres on the part
of the English commander to shelter the merchantmen, the engagement
began at half-past seven in the evening, with a series of attempts of
the Bon Homme Richard to come to close quarters with her antagonist.
At the first broadside of Jones's vessel, two of the old
eighteen-pounders mounted in her gun-room burst, with fearful
destruction to the men. This accident compelled the closing of the
lower ports, and produced a still greater inequality between the
combatants than at the start, for the Serapis was not only a
well-constructed, well-furnished man-of-war, thoroughly equipped,
while the Bon Homme Richard had even-disadvantage in these respects:
but the absolute weight of metal was, at the outset, greatly in favor
of the Englishman. The Richard then passed to windward of the Serapis,
receiving her fire, which did much damage to the rotten hull of the
old Indiaman. Jones next attempted a movement to get into position to
rake his antagonist from stem to stern, which resulted in a momentary
collision. There was an effort to board the Serapis, which was
repulsed, when Captain Pearson called out, "Has your ship struck?" and
Jones instantly replied, "I have not yet begun to fight." The ships
then separating, were brought again to a broadside encounter, when
Jones, feeling the superior force of the Serapis, and her better
sailing, was fully prepared to take advantage of the next position as
the ships fell foul of one another, to grapple with his opponent. He
himself assisted in lashing the jib-stay of the Serapis to the
mizzenmast of the Richard.
The ships became now closely entangled for their full length on their
starboard sides; so near were they together, that the guns of one
touched the sides of the other, and in some places where the
port-holes met, the guns were loaded by passing the rammers into the
opposite vessel. Every discharge in this position was of course most
deadly, and told fearfully upon the rotten hull of the Richard. To add
to Jones's embarrassment, he was repeatedly fired upon by Landais,
from the Alliance, which always kept her position with the Richard
between her and the enemy. This extraordinary circumstance is only to
be accounted for by an entire lack of presence of mind in the
confusion, or by absolute treachery. The Serapis poured in her fire
below from a full battery, while the Richard was confined to three
guns on deck. She had efficient aid, however, in clearing the deck of
the Serapis, from the musketry and hand-grenades of her men in the
tops. One of these missiles reached the lower gun-deck of the Serapis,
and there setting fire to a quantity of exposed cartridges, produced a
destruction of life, an offset to the fearful loss of the Richard by
the bursting of her guns in the opening of the engagement. The injury
to the Richard, from the wounds inflicted upon her hull, was at this
time so great that she was pronounced to be sinking, and there was a
cry among the men of surrender; not, however, from Jones, who was as
much himself at this extremity as ever. Seeing the English prisoners,
who had been released below, more than a hundred in number, rushing
upon deck, where in a moment they might have leaped into the Serapis,
and put themselves under then country's flag, he coolly set them to
working the pumps, to save the sinking ship. Human courage and
resolution have seldom been more severely tried than in the exigencies
of this terrible night on board the Richard. Jones continued to ply
his feeble cannonade from the deck, levelled at the mainmast of the
adversary. Both vessels were on fire, when, at half-past ten, the
Serapis struck.
The loss in this extraordinary engagement, which outstrips and
exaggerates the usual vicissitudes of naval service, was of course
fearful. The entire loss of the Richard is estimated by Cooper at one
hundred and fifty, nearly one-half of all the men she had engaged.
Captain Pearson reported at least one hundred and seventeen
casualties. The Bon Homme Richard was so riddled by the enemy's fire,
and disembowelled by the gun-room explosion, that she could not be
saved from sinking. When the wind freshened, the day after the
victory, she became no longer tenable; her living freight was taken
from her, and Jones, in the forenoon of the 25th, "with inexpressible
grief," saw her final plunge into the depths of the ocean.
While the engagement of the Richard and Serapis was going on, the
Pallas, better officered than the Alliance, captured the other English
vessel, the Countess of Scarborough. The two prizes were carried to
the Texel, where the squadron enjoyed the uneasy protection of
Holland. Jones himself had a more satisfactory reception in an
enthusiastic greeting on the Exchange at Amsterdam, and a brilliant
triumph, illuminated by the smiles of the fair sex, shortly after in
Paris. In October, 1780, he left for America in the Ariel, bearing
with him a gift from the king, a gold-mounted sword, with the
inscription on the blade: _Vindicati Maris Ludovicus XVI. Remunerator
Strenuo Vindici_--"Louis XVI., rewarder, to the valiant defender of a
liberated sea." The voyage was interrupted, at its outset, by a severe
storm off the harbor, in which Jones displayed his usual heroism. The
vessel was refitted, and after a partial action on the high seas with
a mysterious stranger, reached Philadelphia in February, 1781.
In 1787 he left America with the intention of serving under Louis.
When he reached Paris, he was met by a proposition to enter the
service of Catherine of Russia, in which he was induced to engage by
prospects of rank and glory. On his journey to St. Petersburg, he had
a characteristic adventure in his passage from Stockholm to Revel,
which he made while the navigation was interrupted by ice, traversing
the sea, with great hardihood, in an open boat, extorting the labors
of the boatmen by his threats of violence. He was well received by the
Empress, who forwarded him to Potemkin, then in command on the Black
Sea, in a war with the Turks. It is not necessary to recount the
movements of a small squadron, with a divided command and jealous
counsels, presided over by a whimsical, despotic court favorite. Many
as were the vexations encountered by Jones in the inefficient
resources, the shifts and expedients of foreign allies, and the
straits of the American commissioners, they were light compared with
the stifling restraints of Russian tyranny. Jones did much fighting,
in his command of the Wolodomer, on the Black Sea, against the Pasha,
but retired with little glory. Persecution followed at St.
Petersburg--there was an assault upon his moral character, which was
triumphantly disproved--various projects flitted through his teeming
mind, and his connection with the country closed after a residence of
fifteen months. It is sad to watch the last years of Paul Jones, not,
indeed, of age, but of growing weariness and disease, as he renews his
broken Russian hopes, and revives the old, faded, pecuniary claims on
the French court. A gleam of sunshine appears in his aspirations to
serve his country--for he still looked across the Atlantic--in the
removal of the chains from the American sailors imprisoned at Algiers.
His country listened to his cry; he was charged to treat with the
Regency for their ransom, but before the commission reached him, he
had passed to that land where the weary cease from sighing, and
prisoners are at rest. Here, with Mercy bending over the scene, let
the curtain fall. Paul Jones died at Paris, at the age of forty-five,
of a dropsical affection, July 18, 1792.
The person of Paul Jones is well known by the numerous prints devoted
to his brilliant exploits. You will see him, a little active man of
medium height, not robust but vigorous, a keen black eye, lighting a
dark, weather-beaten visage, compact and determined, with a certain
melancholy grace.
He was one of nature's self-made men; that is, nature gave the genius,
and he supplied the industry, for he knew how to labor, and must have
often exerted himself to secure the attainments which he possessed. He
was a good seaman, as well as a most gallant officer; sagacious in the
application of means; vain, indeed, and expensive, but natural and
generous; something of a poet in verse, much more in the quickness and
vivacity of his imagination, which led him to plan nobly; an
accomplished writer; and as he was found worthy of the warm and
unchanging friendship of Franklin, that sage who sought for excellence
while he looked with a kindly eye upon human infirmity, we, too, may
peruse the virtues of the man and smile upon his frailties.