IN THE RUSSIAN SERVICE--OTCHAKOFF AND THE CAMPAIGN IN THE LIMAN.
Far to the north is Russia. Extending through no less than one hundred
and seventy-three degrees of longitude, and covering forty parallels
of latitude, from the Baltic to the Pacific, and from the Black Sea to
the Arctic Ocean, with an area of eight and a half million square
miles, lies this great lone land. This gigantic empire, touching on
the one hand the ice-bound shores of Nova Zembla, and on the other the
caravan trails of Bokhara, stretches from the Gulf of Finland in the
west to Kamtchatka on the east. Within its boundaries are comprised
bleak deserts and fertile plains. Verdant valleys, unscalable
mountains, and vast steppes break the monotony of the landscape, and
diversify a surface watered by great rivers from the arctic Yenisei to
the Oriental Oxus. Great among the powers is this mysterious Colossus,
her head white with the snows of eternal winter and her feet laved in
the sunlight of tropic streams. The land of the seafarers--so its name
indicates--developing enormously and steadily in power, wealth, and
civilization, in the nine hundred years which have elapsed since Rurik
the Viking first stepped upon its shores, has not yet reached its
zenith. It is to-day the home of more diverse nationalities than any
other existent country, and foreshadowings of unlimited predominance
are apparent. Its sway extends over more races and peoples than any
other power has governed since the days of Augustus Cæsar, and the end
is not yet. Well do its rulers arrogate to themselves the imperial
title of the ancient head of the Roman Empire. Holy Russia, the home
of the Orthodox Church, the country of the White Czar, the land of the
once despised Slav, yet contains within its borders, in Lithuania, the
focal point of that Aryan race which has filled Europe with its
splendor. This Russia, the land of the Tartar, the Mongol, the
Samoyede, the Cossack, the Finn, and the Pole; this Russia, the land
of Ivan the Terrible, of Peter the Great, was now in the hands of a
woman--of Catherine II.
The little maiden, born on the 2d of May, 1729, in the quaint old town
of Stettin, and of the insignificant house of Anhalt-Zerbst,
christened Sophia, was received into the Greek Church on her marriage
with Peter of Holstein, grandson of the Romanoff Peter the Great,
under the name of Catherine. She had assumed the reins of government
after the murder of her wretched impotent husband, against whom she
had conspired in conjunction with the Orloffs. When she had deposed
and imprisoned him, unable to strike a blow for himself, he had
stipulated that in his confinement he might have the undisputed
enjoyment of his mistress, his monkey, and his violin! Even these
kingly pleasures were soon of little use to him, for on the 18th of
July, 1762, but a few days after the revolution which had hurled him
from his throne, Peter lay dead in the palace with some ominous and
ineffaceable black marks around his throat, telling of the manner of
his death from the giant hands of the terrible Orloffs--and his wife
was privy to the murder and consenting to it! That her husband had
been a knave and a fool--almost a madman--does not excuse her.
Catherine was then immediately proclaimed empress in her own right. As
the Neapolitan Caraccioli said, the Russian throne was neither
hereditary nor elective, but occupative! Catherine occupied it, and as
long as she lived Russia knew no other master. The world marveled at
her audacity, and trembled for the consequences of her usurpation, but
men soon found that, gigantic as had been her assurance, and
tremendous as was her task, she was entirely equal to the undertaking.
She had a genius for reigning as great as had been exhibited by
Elizabeth Tudor--good Queen Bess! In spite of her bad qualities and
evil beginning, Russia never progressed more than while under her
sway. She fairly divides honor as a sovereign, in Slavonic history,
with Peter the Great. True it is that Catherine had "woven out of the
bloody vestments of Peter III the most magnificent imperial mantle
that a woman had ever worn."
Some one wrote to Madame Vigée le Brun, who essayed to paint her
picture:
"Take the map of the empire of Russia for canvas, the darkness of
ignorance for background, the spoils of Poland for drapery, human
blood for coloring, the monuments of her reign for the cartoon, and
for the shadow six months of her son's reign."
A singular and complex character was that of this famous despot, this
"Semiramis of the North." Never more than a half-educated woman--and
in that she corresponded with her empire--she learned her politics
from Montesquieu, drew her philosophy of life from Voltaire, and
shaped her morals after Brantôme! A creature of singular
contradictions, she loved liberty, favored the struggle of the United
States, and ruled an absolute despot; she wrote charming fairy tales
for children and rode horseback astride like a man; she was one of the
greatest sticklers for morals--in other people--the world has ever
known, and yet was herself one of the most colossal examples of
unblushing and shameless professional sensuality that ever sat upon a
throne. Other rulers and sovereigns have had their favorites, she
alone made favoritism a state institution. "What has ruined the
country," she naïvely writes, "is that the people fall into vice and
drunkenness, and the comic opera has corrupted the whole nation!" As a
corrupter by example she surpassed all the comic operas ever written.
The morals of Russia, in her day, were rotten from the head downward.
Yet in spite of all this she was a great princess. She was allowed to
occupy that throne because she made Russia greater with each
successive year; not alone by force of arms either, and the Russian
destiny makers loved her. Education, the arts, and sciences, all felt
the stimulus of her interest and responded to her efforts. Progress
was the word of this imperious woman. She had a faculty for ruling as
remarkable as her exploitation of favoritism. Yet she governed her
empire with a sublime indifference to public opinion, and squandered
its revenues in a shameless prostitution of her own person, which
ceased only with her death, in 1794, at the age of sixty-five! The
fact that Catherine made an official business out of favoritism, and
that she was so utterly oblivious to the moral inconsistency of
it--for she was a faithful member of the Holy Orthodox Church--seems
to lift it upon a plane of its own, so simple and brazen was it.
Upon the chief of her favorites alone she had bestowed more than fifty
million roubles, vast estates carrying with them nearly one hundred
thousand serfs, and in addition orders, titles, privileges, and
decorations innumerable. The name of this favorite was Gregory
Alexandrovitch Patiomkine, commonly called Potemkin. He was the second
of the great _Vremienchtchick_, as the favorites were called, the word
meaning "men of the moment!" He succeeded the gigantic Orloff, whose
term as the favorite was longer than that of any successor, for he had
enjoyed a tenure of almost ten years--the usual period being about
two. Patiomkine's personal association with the empress was only for
that short time, when he was supplanted by another object of royal
regard. Unlike all the other favorites, Patiomkine was not relegated
to prompt obscurity, and he continued to be the power behind the
throne for practically the remainder of his life. He was greater than
all the others--too great to be done away with, in fact. If he could
not be the favorite, he would, like Warwick the kingmaker, make the
favorite, and for fifteen years he continued to do so. During this
period he swayed the destinies of the empire as a sort of mayor of the
palace.
The analogy is not altogether accurate, for Catherine was no supine
Merovingian to commit the administration of the state to others while
she passed hours of dalliance in the secret chambers of the palace;
she was too strong and too great for that, and she always retained her
grasp upon the helm; but it is certain that none of her favorites had
ever enjoyed such power and wielded it so openly as this princely
pander.
As to Patiomkine himself, the world did not know whether he was a
genius or a madman. At times he seems to have passed over that slender
line which divides these two antitheses of character, and appears now
on one side, now on the other. Personally he was a man of huge bulk
and great strength, with the natural instincts of an animal and a
veneer, more or less strong on occasion, of refinement. He, too,
typified Russia, a giant rising through barbarism into the
civilization of the century--and not yet arrived, either--now
inclining to the one side or the other. Catherine usually chose her
favorites among men of great physical vigor. Patiomkine was a giant in
size. His vast frame was capable of sustaining the most tremendous
hardships. He was a black-haired, swarthy, hot-tempered man, not
pleasant to look upon, for he had lost an eye in a fist fight after a
drunken revel with the Orloffs. He squinted with the other, and even
had not a figure to redeem him, for he was markedly knock-kneed. He,
like his mistress and his country, was a creature of contradictions.
In his palace in St. Petersburg we find him trifling with the most
delicate creations of the most skilled _chef_, and on his journeys
eating rapaciously of anything that came to hand. He sent his
adjutants thousands of miles for perfumes which caught his fancy, and
galloped madly himself across half Europe without rest or sleep for
days in pursuance of duty, and then spent weeks in dalliance with his
harem.
With the one hand he wrote poetic letters that quiver and thrill with
tenderness and beauty, pathos and passion, and with the other he
calmly consigned thousands of people to death. One day we find him
raging because his soldiers are not better cared for, and on the next
day remarking cynically, when the absence of ambulances was brought to
his notice, that so much the better--they would not have to bother
with the wounded! Sometimes cowardly, sometimes bold to the point of
recklessness; atheist and devotee, debauchee and ascetic, coarse and
refined, imperious and cringing, brutal and gentle, king and slave,
Christian and pagan--his life remains a mystery.
After he died of a frightful attack of indigestion, brought on by
gorging himself with coarse food, Catherine's son, upon succeeding to
the throne, treated his body with great indignity; and it was not
until seventy years later that his remains were discovered and
interred in the Cathedral of Kherson. Prince of Taurida, the conqueror
of the Crimea, and under Catherine the originator of that tremendous
and irresistible Russian policy which will some day replace the Greek
cross upon the temple of Justinian in Constantinople, Patiomkine is
one of the most remarkable figures in the history of the world.
In the service of the first of these two personages, and under the
specific orders of the last, Paul Jones was to make a campaign. It was
foredoomed to failure. Jones was not a good subordinate to any one.
His temper, his lack of self-control, his pride, and his vanity
rendered any ultimate successful association with a man like
Patiomkine impossible. Patiomkine had all Jones' faults and a thousand
more. They harmonized like flint and steel. To further complicate
matters, Jones was to be associated in his command, with the limits of
authority not clearly defined between them--always a prolific source
of trouble, and certain to cause failure--with Prince Otto of
Nassau-Siegen, of whom we have heard before. He had asked to serve
under Jones in the Indien, and when that project fell through he had
failed to answer Jones' letters, and had treated him with discourtesy
and indifference. In Catherine's army and navy thousands of soldiers
of fortune found a congenial atmosphere and a golden opportunity. They
were all made welcome, and, with anything like success to warrant
them, they generally achieved a handsome reward in her generous
service. The most noted among them, and one of the most worthless, is
this man, whom Waliszewski calls "the last notable _condottierre_ of
Europe; a soldier without country, without home, and almost without
family, his very name is the first of his conquests." His father was
the illegitimate son of a princeling, but the Parliament of Paris, in
1756, gave the young Otto, then eleven years of age, the right, so far
as they had the power, to bear the name of his ancestors, to which he
had no legitimate claim. They could not, however, do anything for his
patrimony. He had been a lieutenant of infantry, a captain of
dragoons, and finally a sailor under Bougainville when he made his
famous voyage around the world. Later he appears as an unsuccessful
explorer in Africa. In fact, he was not successful at anything. Unlike
Crichton, he did everything equally ill.
In 1779, as a colonel of French infantry, he made an unsuccessful
attempt upon the island of Jersey. The next year, in the Spanish
service, he commanded, unsuccessfully as usual, some floating
batteries before Gibraltar. Among other exploits--and it was his one
triumph--he seduced the Queen of Tahiti, so he said, and the
reputation of the unfortunate lady found no defenders in Europe. He
married a homely Polish countess with a great fortune, and after
meddling (unsuccessfully) with all sorts of things got himself
appointed to the command of a flotilla of Russian gunboats operating
against the Turks.
But to return to the story; the long distance--seven hundred and fifty
miles as the crow flies and probably twice that by road--between St.
Petersburg and Elizabethgrad, was covered by Jones in twelve days. He
was in a hurry, as always, to get to sea. The object of the Prince
Marshal's attack was the fortified town of Otchakoff, commonly spelled
in contemporary manuscripts Oczakow. This important place was situated
on the Russo-Turkish frontier of that day, on the Black Sea, not far
from the present city of Odessa, and occupied a commanding position at
the confluence of the great river Dnieper and the smaller river Bug.
Southward of the mainland the peninsula of Kinburn, a narrow, indented
point of land, projects for perhaps twenty miles to the westward,
forming a narrow estuary of the Black Sea about fifty miles long and
from five to ten miles wide, into which the two rivers pour their vast
floods. This estuary is sometimes called the Dnieper Bay, but more
commonly the Liman, and the undertaking hereafter described is
referred to as the campaign in the Liman. The bay or inlet is very
shallow. Sand banks and shoals leave but a narrow, tortuous channel,
which is of no great depth at best. The end of the peninsula of
Kinburn terminates in a long and very narrow strip of land, a point
which reaches up toward the northward and almost closes the opening of
the estuary; the distance between the point and Fort Hassan, the
southernmost fortification of Otchakoff, is possibly two miles. This
narrow entrance is further diminished by a long shoal which extends
south from Fort Hassan toward the point, so that, except for one
contracted channel, the passage is practicable for vessels of very
light draught only.
Otchakoff lies between the Bug and a smaller river called the Beresan,
deep enough near its mouth for navigation by small vessels. It was
strongly fortified and garrisoned by ten thousand men. While it
remained in the hands of the Turks it menaced the Russian
communications and rendered it difficult for them to hold the great
peninsula of Taurida, now known as the Crimea, which Patiomkine had
conquered previously, and from which he had taken the name of
Taurichevsky, or Tauricien, or Taurida, with his dukedom. Patiomkine,
therefore, decided to besiege and capture this place.
To prevent this, the Turks had re-enforced it by one hundred and
twenty armed vessels, ranging from ships of the line to gunboats,
under the command of one of the ablest of their admirals, a
distinguished old sailor, who had been recalled from service in Egypt,
which had been brilliantly successful, to conduct this operation. So
long as they could keep open communication by sea with Otchakoff its
power of resistance would be prolonged and its capture a matter of
extreme difficulty. The object of Jones' campaign was to hold the
Liman till Patiomkine could invest Otchakoff, then to defeat the
Turkish naval forces in the bay, and to blockade the town.
Incidentally he was required to cover the Russian towns on the Dnieper
and prevent any descent upon them by the Turks; a hard task for any
man with the force available and likely to be placed under his
command.
Having stayed but one day at Elizabethgrad, Jones, accompanied by one
of the staff officers of Patiomkine, set out for Kherson, which is
located near the point where the Dnieper enters the Liman, and is the
principal Russian naval depot in that section of the country. The two
officers spent but one day at Kherson, but the time was sufficient to
develop the fact, as Jones said, that he had entered "on a delicate
and disagreeable service."
Mordwinoff, the Russian Chief of Admiralty, treated him with the
utmost coolness and indifference, and, though he had been ordered by
Patiomkine to give Jones full information as to the situation, he told
him nothing of importance, and even failed to provide him with a rear
admiral's flag, to which he was entitled. However, the day after his
arrival at Kherson, Jones repaired to the town of Gluboca, off which,
in one of the deeps of the river between the Dnieper and the mouth of
the Bug called Schiroque Roads, his command was anchored. It comprised
a single line of battle ship, the Wolodimer--which, on account of its
great draught and the shoal water of the Liman, could only mount
twenty-six guns--five frigates, five sloops of war, and four smaller
vessels, making a total of fifteen sail.[46] The ships were badly
constructed, "drew too much water for the navigation of the Black Sea,
were too crank to carry the heavy guns that were mounted on them, and
sailed badly." They were makeshift craft constructed by people who
since Rurik's advent have exhibited surprisingly little aptitude for
the sea. I can imagine Jones' disgust and disappointment as he
inspected his squadron with a seaman's quick and comprehensive glance.
In addition to this force, there was a large flotilla of light-draught
gunboats, each carrying a single heavy gun, and sometimes smaller
pieces, manned by from thirty to forty men each, and propelled mainly
by oars.
The command of the flotilla had been committed to the Prince of
Nassau-Siegen, and, although Jones had been repeatedly assured that he
was to have supreme charge of all naval operations in the Liman, he
found that Nassau exercised an independent command, and instead of
being subordinate to him, had only been requested to co-operate with
him. Jones' command will be called the squadron, Nassau's the
flotilla, hereafter in these pages, to prevent confusion. The squadron
had been hitherto under the command of a cowardly Greek corsair named
Alexiano, reputed a Turkish subject, who had attained the rank of
captain commandant, or brigadier, equivalent to commodore. He was a
man of little capacity, great timidity, and was tricky and unreliable
in his disposition.
Jones immediately proceeded on board the Wolodimer and exhibited his
orders. He found that Alexiano had assembled all the commanders of the
ships, and endeavored to persuade them to rebel against his authority.
The attempted cabal came to nothing, however, and on receiving a
letter from Patiomkine Alexiano relinquished the command to Jones, and
with a very ill grace consented to serve as his subordinate--he had
to. On the same day in which he arrived, in order to ascertain the
topography of the situation, Jones left the Wolodimer and rode over to
Kinburn Point, opposite Otchakoff. After a careful examination of the
water which he was to defend and the town he was to blockade, so far
as he could make it from the shore, he returned to the Wolodimer, and
finding, as he says, "all the officers contented," he hoisted his rear
admiral's flag on that ship on the evening of the 6th of June,
1788.[47] The Prince of Nassau-Siegen called upon him promptly, and
apparently recognized his superiority in rank, if not his right to
command. He had an immediate foretaste of the character of his new
associates when the prince informed him that if they gained any
advantage over the Turks it would be necessary to exaggerate it to the
utmost! Jones replied that he had never adopted that method of
heightening his personal merits. He might have added that a true
recital of his exploits was sufficiently dazzling to need no
embellishment by the wildest imagination.
The celebrated General Suvorof was in command of the strong fortress
of Kinburn, which was supposed to command the entrance of the Liman,
but it was too far inland to menace Otchakoff, or, indeed, to command
anything effectively. It is an evidence of Jones' quick perception and
fine military instinct that as soon as he inspected the position he
discovered the advantage of placing a battery on Kinburn Point,
opposite the shoal to which I have referred: and his first act upon
assuming the command was to point out to Suvorof, who was perhaps the
greatest of all Russian soldiers, the absolute necessity for a battery
there. Realizing the fact, Suvorof immediately mounted a formidable
battery on the point, and he magnanimously credited Jones with the
idea, in spite of the fact that the previous neglect to fortify the
point was a reflection on his military skill. Before the guns were in
position the capitan pasha as the Turkish admiral was styled, with
twenty-one frigates and sloops of war, and several smaller vessels,
entered the Liman and anchored before Otchakoff. He was followed by a
flotilla of gunboats about equal in number and individual efficiency
to the Russian flotilla. The ships of the line and heavier frigates of
the Turks, unable to approach near the town, remained at anchor in the
open roads to the westward, and as they took no part in the subsequent
actions they may be dismissed from further notice. Even as it was,
however, the Turkish force greatly overmatched the Russian.
Jones had fifteen ships, the Turks twenty-one, and ship for ship the
advantage was entirely in favor of the Turks. In number the two
flotillas of gunboats were about the same, and there was not much
choice in their quality. The poor quality of Nassau's leadership could
hardly be surpassed by any Turk, however incompetent, but the capitan
pasha in critical moments led his own flotilla, and, as Jones
practically did the same for the Russian gunboats, Nassau's
incompetency did not matter so much as it might.
On the 9th of June, having meanwhile received re-enforcements of
soldiers to complete the crews, the squadron, followed by the
flotilla, got under way and stood toward the entrance of the Liman.
The combined force anchored in two lines, the squadron forming an
obtuse angle in the channel with the opening toward Otchakoff, so as
to be able to pour a cross fire upon any approaching ships. On the
right and left flanks in the shallow water divisions of gunboats were
stationed, with another division immediately in the rear of the
squadron, and a reserve division at hand to re-enforce any threatened
point of the line. The station was just in front of the mouth of the
Bug, and commanded the entrance to that river and the Dnieper as well,
thus protecting Kherson from any attack by the Turks, and affording
Patiomkine's troops a free and unimpeded passage of the Bug when they
marched to invest the town. The position was most advantageously
chosen by Jones. His force was too weak to attack the Turks with any
hope of success at present, and he had been ordered by Patiomkine not
to enter upon any operation until the Russian army arrived. Absolutely
no fault can be found either with his location or his dispositions.
The Turks made no movement to attack them, and Nassau, who was good at
proposing aggressive movements when no dangers threatened, suggested
that they abandon their position and move forward nearer the town.
Nothing would be gained by this maneuver, and opportunities for a
successful attack by the Turks would have been greater than in their
present position. Jones realized that the Turks must of necessity
attack them sooner or later; that no commander could afford to throw
away such advantage in force as the Turks enjoyed, when any hour might
bring re-enforcements to the Russians, and the battery which Suvorof
had completed would prevent further re-enforcements being received by
the Turks. So Jones grimly held to his position in spite of Nassau's
remonstrances, which were seconded by those of Alexiano, and waited.
To wait is sometimes braver than to advance.
Finally one of the reasons for Nassau's desire to advance transpired.
He wished to remove from his position near the Turkish shore, upon
which batteries were being erected in the absence of any Russian land
force to prevent them, which would subject the right wing of his
flotilla to a land fire; and he desired to take a position where he
would be protected by the new fort at Kinburn Point and by the ships
of the squadron. Suvorof had made Jones responsible for the safety of
the fort on Kinburn Point, by the way, while awaiting the advance of
the army. Having received no orders from Patiomkine, Jones assembled a
council of war on the Wolodimer, at which Nassau was present. Jones'
supremacy was fully recognized by Nassau. The council approved of the
position in which Jones had placed his squadron, and commended his
resolution to maintain that position, and in obedience to urgent
pleadings from Jones the officers of the flotilla and squadron agreed
to co-operate and work together for the common good in the event of
being attacked. They did not have long to wait for the inevitable
encounter.
On the afternoon of the 18th of June, the Turkish flotilla in two
divisions made a dash at the Russian gunboats on the right flank, and
a sharp engagement began. The Russians, greatly outnumbered, began to
give ground, and, though the reserve was immediately sent to support
the right wing, before the dashing attacks of the Turkish gunboats the
retreat was not stayed. A battery of artillery which had been unmasked
on the adjacent shore also seriously annoyed the extreme flank of the
Russians. On account of the shoal water the ships of the squadron
could not enter the engagement. Jones, therefore, with his instinctive
desire to get into a fight, left the Wolodimer and embarked in
Nassau's galley. That commander had entirely lost his head. He could
think of nothing to do of value, but implored Jones to send him a
frigate--which was impossible, for all the frigates drew too much
water; failing this, he threatened to withdraw his right wing, in
which case the Turkish gunboats probably would have taken the squadron
in reverse, and might have inflicted serious damage. Jones convinced
him that a return attack was not only necessary but inevitable, and,
as Nassau made no objection, he assumed the direction of the vessels
himself. Summoning the unengaged center and left divisions, he brought
them up through the squadron to attack the approaching Turkish galleys
on the flank. The diversion they caused so inspirited the broken right
and reserve divisions that they made a determined stand and stopped
their retreat. The capitan pasha, seeing himself in danger of being
taken between two fires and his retreat cut off, withdrew
precipitately before the center and the left fairly came into action.
Had Jones been in command of the flotilla from the beginning, a most
disastrous defeat would have been inflicted upon the Turks. As it was,
they retreated in confusion, leaving two gunboats in the hands of the
enemy.
As the affair had been conducted entirely between the different
flotillas, Nassau claimed all the credit for the brilliant maneuvers
of the Russians. Jones contemptuously allowed him to make any claims
he pleased in his report to Patiomkine, and gave Nassau credit for at
least having taken his advice. It would have been better for Nassau's
fame if he had continued to take Jones' advice. Having obtained this
slight success, Nassau, who knew how well his urgency would look in
the reports, again proposed to Jones that they should advance and
attack. The Russian army had not yet invested the place, and the
success they had gained was so slight that circumstances had not
changed. Jones still refused to be moved from the position he had
assumed, which the experience of the 18th of June had justified, and
calmly awaited the further pleasure of the enemy. It takes a high
quality of moral courage for a stranger, who has a reputation for
audacity and intrepidity, absolutely to refuse to do that thing to
which a subordinate urges him, and which has the appearance of courage
and daring; and I count this refusal, in the interests of sound
strategic principles, not an unimportant manifestation of Jones'
qualities as an officer.
Meanwhile, the Russian army, having passed the Bug, invested the city
on the 28th of June, and the Turkish fleet was forced to attack or
withdraw. The capitan pasha elected to do the former. Having
re-enforced his crews by some two thousand picked men from the great
fleet outside the Liman, he advanced down the bay to attack the
Russians. The wind was free, and the Turkish fleet came on in grand
style, the capitan pasha leading in the largest ship, with the
flotilla of gunboats massed on his left flank, making a brilliant
showing. Nassau's desire to advance suddenly vanished, and he clamored
for a retreat. Jones paid no attention to him, but weighed anchor,
and, as it was impossible for him to advance on account of the wind,
he waited for the enemy. Fortunately for the Russians, at one o'clock
in the afternoon the Turkish flagship, which had been headed for the
Wolodimer, took ground on the shoals near the south shore of the
Liman. The advance of the fleet was immediately stopped, and the
Turkish vessels came to anchor about the flagship.
A council of war was at once convened on the Wolodimer, and Jones at
last persuaded the Russians, although inferior in force, to attack the
Turks as soon as the wind permitted. During the night the wind
fortunately shifted to the north-northeast, and at daylight on the
29th the squadron stood for the Turkish fleet. The Wolodimer led the
advance. By hard work the Turkish admiral had succeeded in floating
his flagship, but his ships were huddled together without order. Jones
immediately dashed at him, opening fire from his bow guns as he came
within range. The squadron was formed in echelon by bringing the van
forward on the center, making another obtuse angle, with the opening
toward the crowd of Turkish ships--in fact, Jones was attempting with
his smaller force to surround them. In the confusion caused by the
bold attack, the Turks, who seem to have been taken completely by
surprise, again permitted the ships of the admiral and of his second
in command to take ground. Jones' prompt approach and the heavy fire
poured upon them made it impossible to float the stranded ships. They
both of them keeled over on the shoal and could make no defense. Their
flags were struck, and they were abandoned by their crews. The other
Turkish ships were so discouraged by this mishap that they withdrew
toward Otchakoff, their flight being accelerated by the tremendous
fire poured upon them by the Wolodimer and the other Russian ships.
Just as the Wolodimer reached the stranded ship of the capitan pasha,
Alexiano, who found himself sufficiently near to the enemy, ordered
the anchor of the Wolodimer to be let go without informing Jones. As
the order was given in Russian, Jones knew nothing about it until the
motion of the ship was stopped.
There was plenty of fight in the Turkish admiral, who seems to have
been a very gallant old fellow, for after the loss of the flagship he
hoisted his flag on one of the gunboats and brought up the flotilla,
which poured a furious fire from its heavy guns upon the right
division of Jones' squadron, to which the lighter guns of the ships
could make but little reply. The situation became dangerous for the
squadron. One of the Russian frigates, the Little Alexander, was set
on fire and blown up by the Turkish shot, and the fortune of the day
trembled in the balance.
The light-draught gunboats each carried a large gun, heavier, and
therefore of greater range, than any on the ships. The shallow water
would not permit the ships to draw near enough to the flotilla to make
effective use of their greater number of guns. Hence, under the
circumstances, the squadron was always at the mercy of the flotilla
unless by some means they could get into close action, in which case
the ships would have made short work of the gunboats. Jones' position
was therefore one of extreme peril--untenable, in fact, without the
help of his own flotilla. The Russian flotilla had followed the
squadron in a very leisurely and disorderly manner, so slowly that
Jones had twice checked the way of his ships to allow them to come
within hailing distance. He now dispatched a request to Nassau to
bring up his gunboats on the right flank and drive off the Turkish
gunboats, thus enabling him to take possession of the two frigates,
which had been abandoned by their crews, and continue the pursuit of
the flying Turkish ships.
No attention was paid to this and repeated requests, and Jones finally
took his boat and went himself in search of Nassau's galley to entreat
him to attack the Turkish flotilla. He found Nassau in the rear of the
left flank, far from the scene of action, and bent only upon attacking
the two ships which were incapable of defense. Unable to persuade him
to act, Jones at last appealed to Nassau's second, Brigadier
Corsacoff, who finally moved against the Turks and drove them off with
great loss after a hard fight. Jones meanwhile returned to the
Wolodimer--both journeys having been made under a furious fire,
in the midst of a general action, in which upward of thirty-six ships
of considerable size and possibly a hundred gunboats were
participating--but before he could get under way Nassau, with some of
his flotilla, surrounded the two abandoned ships and set fire to them
by means of a peculiar kind of a bomb shell called _brandkugels_
(hollow spheres, filled with combustibles and perforated with holes,
which were fired from a piece called a _licorne_). The Turkish fleet
and flotilla, very much shattered, retreated to a safe position under
the walls of Otchakoff, thus ending the fighting for that day.
Nassau's action was inexcusable. The two ships he so wantonly
destroyed would have been a valuable addition to the Russian navy,
and, as they were commanded by the Wolodimer and the rest of the
squadron, they could not have been recaptured, and could easily have
been removed from the shoals.
The Turkish defeat had been a severe one, but the only trophy which
remained in the hands of the Russians was the flag of the capitan
pasha. A shot from one of the gunboats having carried it away, it fell
into the water, whence it was picked up by some Zaporojian boatmen,
who brought it to the Prince of Nassau's boat. Jones happened to be on
board of it at the time. The flag certainly belonged to him, but he
magnanimously yielded it to Nassau in the hope of pacifying that
worthless individual. It was by this time late in the afternoon, but
Jones gave orders to get under way toward Otchakoff. Now was the
proper time to advance and deliver a return blow upon the broken
enemy, but now Nassau desired to remain where he was. Jones was
inflexible as usual, and determined to finish the job so auspiciously
begun. Accordingly, the anchor of the Wolodimer was lifted and she got
under way, followed by the remaining ships of the squadron. Having
approached as near to Otchakoff as the shoal water permitted, Jones
anchored his vessels across the channel in such a position as to cover
the passage to the sea. If the Turkish vessels attempted to escape,
they would have to pass under the guns of the squadron, and would find
themselves within easy range of the formidable battery at Kinburn
Point. Nassau's flotilla at last following, the squadron was massed on
the right flank.
[Illustration: Map of the Russian Campaign on the Liman.]
The Turkish fleet and flotilla were drawn up in line parallel to the
Russians, under cover of the Otchakoff batteries; they still presented
a threatening appearance, but the severe handling they had received
during the day had taken much of the fight out of them. Having
disposed his squadron and flotilla to the best advantage, and being
unable to proceed further without coming under the fire of the heavy
Otchakoff batteries, there was nothing left for Jones but to hold his
position and wait another attack.
In order, however, to familiarize himself with the field of future
operations, and see if he had properly placed his force, just before
sunset he took soundings in a small boat all along the Turkish line
within range of case shot from the Otchakoff batteries, and from the
Turkish ships as well. His action was a part of his impudent
hardihood. His dashing attack had so discouraged the Turks, and his
success of the morning had so disheartened them, that not a single gun
was fired upon him. Having completed his investigations to his
satisfaction, he returned to the flagship.
That night the Turkish admiral attempted to escape with his remaining
ships and rejoin his main fleet on the Black Sea outside of Kinburn
Point. In an endeavor to avoid Jones' squadron on the one hand, and
the battery on the point on the other, nine of his largest ships ran
on a shoal. The attempt to escape was made under the fire of the fort
and ships, in which the flotillas and Fort Hassan joined. A few of the
ships succeeded in getting to sea; the rest were forced to return to
their position of safety under the walls of Otchakoff.
When morning came, the plight of the nine ships aground was plainly
visible. Suvorof, who had commanded the Kinburn battery in person that
night, immediately signaled Jones to send vessels to take possession
of the Turkish ships. Jones decided to send the light frigates of his
squadron, but it being represented to him by Brigadier Alexiano that
the place where the Turks had grounded was dangerous and the current
running like a mill stream with the ebb tide, upon the advice of his
captains he turned over the duty of taking possession of the Turkish
ships to the flotilla. Alexiano, having received permission, went with
the Prince of Nassau.
The boats of the flotilla soon reached the Turkish ships. When they
came within range of them they opened a furious fire, to which the
latter made no reply. In their helpless position, heeling every way
upon the shoal, it was impossible for them to make any defense. They
struck their flags and surrendered their ships. The Russian gunboats
paid no attention whatever to this circumstance, but continued to fire
upon them, drawing nearer and nearer as they realized the helplessness
of the Turks. Resorting to _brandkugels_ again, they at last set the
ships on fire. The hapless Turks in vain implored mercy, kneeling upon
the decks and even making the sign of the cross in the hope of
touching the hearts of their ruthless and bloodthirsty antagonists.
Seven frigates and corvettes were burned to the water's edge with all
their crews. It is estimated that about three thousand Turks perished
in this brutal and frightful butchery. Nassau and Alexiano enjoyed the
situation from a galley at a safe distance in the rear of the
attacking force. By chance two of the vessels were not consumed, and
were hauled off later and added to the squadron.
Jones viewed the dreadful slaughter of the Turks with unmitigated
horror and surprise. A man of merciful disposition and kindly heart,
who never inflicted unnecessary suffering, he was shocked and revolted
at the ferocity of his new associates. He protested against their
action with all his energy, and laid the foundation thereby of an
utter breakdown of the relations between Nassau and himself. Besides
being horribly cruel, the whole performance was unnecessary. Like the
two ships burned the day before, it was possible to have saved them,
and they could have been added to Jones' command and would have
doubled his effective force. After the destruction of the Turkish
vessels Nassau and Alexiano immediately dispatched a report of the
operations to Patiomkine. They claimed that the flotilla had captured
two and burned nine ships of the line!
Patiomkine, who was at this time extremely fond of Nassau, forwarded
this preposterous statement to the empress, with strong expressions of
approbation of Nassau's conduct. He gave him the whole credit of the
victory, which was entirely due to Jones, and suppressed the fact of
his ruthless and reckless destruction of the surrendered ships, which
would have been so valuable a re-enforcement to the government. In
this report Patiomkine also spoke favorably of the rear admiral,
saying that he had done his duty, but that the particular glory of and
credit for the success was due to the princeling who had hung on the
outskirts and lagged behind when there was any real fighting to be
done.
For some ten days the naval force remained inactive, waiting for
Patiomkine to complete his investment of the town. On the night of the
8th of July the marshal sent orders to Nassau to advance with his
flotilla and destroy the Turkish flotilla under the walls of
Otchakoff. Jones was commanded to give him every assistance possible.
The weather prevented the carrying out of the orders for a few days.
On the night of the 12th of July, however, at one o'clock in the
morning, the advance began. The plan of attack had been arranged by
the marshal himself, but circumstances prevented its being followed.
But that did not matter; Patiomkine was not a military genius, and
Jones knew very much better than he what could or should be done in a
naval engagement. As it was impossible to use the ships of the
squadron, Jones manned all his boats, and led them to tow the
gunboats.
As day broke on the 12th of July, the flotilla, having advanced within
gunshot distance of the walls, began firing upon the Turkish boats and
on Otchakoff itself. After assisting in placing the Russian gunboats
in an advantageous position, Jones, with the boats of the Wolodimer,
made for five of the enemy's galleys which lay within easy range of
the heavy guns of Fort Hassan. These galleys were subjected to a cross
fire from the Russian flotilla on one side and Fort Hassan on the
other. They were also covered by the guns of the Turkish flotilla and
the citadel of Otchakoff. Their position made the attack a most
hazardous one. Jones was far in advance of the gunboats, which, under
the supine leadership of Nassau, did not manifest a burning anxiety to
get into close action. In spite of a furious fire which was poured
upon them, Jones dashed gallantly at the nearest galley. It was taken
by boarding after a fierce hand-to-hand fight. Turning the command of
the galley over to Lieutenant Fabricien with instructions for him to
tow her out of action, Jones then assaulted the next galley, which
happened to be that of the capitan pasha. This boat lay nearer the
fort and was much better defended, but the Russians, under the
inspiring leadership of their admiral, would not be denied, and the
galley was presently his prize. The cable of this boat was cut without
order, and she immediately drifted toward the shore and took ground
near Fort Hassan, where she was subjected to a smashing fire from the
Turkish batteries close at hand. Jones was determined to bring out the
boat as a prize if possible. He caused the galley to be lightened by
throwing everything movable overboard, and meanwhile dispatched
Lieutenant Fox to the Wolodimer to fetch a kedge and line, by which he
could warp her into the channel.
While waiting for the return of this officer he again manned his boats
and endeavored to bring up the Russian flotilla. He was partially
successful in this attempt, for they succeeded in compelling the three
other galleys of the group with which he had been engaged to strike
their flags and in forcing the other gunboats to retreat with severe
loss. When Fox returned from the Wolodimer a line was run from the
galley to the burned wreck of a Turkish ship, but, before the galley
could be moved, Jones, who had re-entered his barge, was intensely
surprised and annoyed to see fire break out on the two vessels he had
captured. They had been deliberately set on fire by the orders of
Alexiano. The other three Turkish galleys were also burned by the use
of the deadly _brandkugels_. It was brutal cruelty again. Not one was
saved from the five galleys except fifty-two prisoners whom Jones
personally brought off in his boats from the two which he had captured
by hard hand-to-hand fighting. These galleys appear to have been
propelled by oars which were driven by slaves on benches, in the
well-known manner of the middle ages. As they were Turkish galleys,
the slaves were probably captive Christians. They perished with the
Turks left on board. Two more ships belonging to the squadron which
had endeavored to escape the week previous, were set on fire and
burned under the walls of Fort Hassan. The rest of the flotilla
effected nothing, and under the orders of Nassau withdrew to their
former position.
This action ended the general naval maneuvers which were undertaken.
In this short and brilliant campaign of three weeks Jones had fought
four general actions, all of which he personally directed. With
fifteen vessels against twenty-one he had so maneuvered that the enemy
lost many galleys and no less than thirteen of his ships; a few had
escaped, and a few were locked up in the harbor, so that the Turkish
naval force in the Liman was not only defeated but practically
annihilated by Jones' brilliant and successful leadership and
fighting. Eleven ships might have been prizes had it not been
for the cruelty and criminal folly of Nassau. Jones had captured by
hand-to-hand fighting two of the largest of the enemy's galleys. He
had shown himself a strategist in his disposition of the fleet at the
mouth of the Bug, and later, when he had placed it to command the
mouth of the Liman. He had demonstrated his qualities as a tactician
in the two boat attacks, and had shown his usual impetuous courage at
all times. Nassau had done nothing that was wise or that was gallant.
When Jones was not with him his tendency was always to retreat. The
orders which brought the flotilla into action which made the brilliant
combination on the first day's fight, by which the Turks were
outflanked, were issued by Jones himself.
Nassau, like Landais, was "skilled in keeping out of harm's way," and
he did not personally get into action at any time. His services
consisted in the useless burning of the nine ships and the five
galleys, but he had a ready tongue, and he still enjoyed the full
favor and confidence of Patiomkine. As soon as the flotilla had
retired from the last conflict, he and Alexiano hastened to the army
headquarters to report their conquests and exploits. They lost nothing
in the telling. In accordance with Nassau's previous statement to
Jones, they were very much exaggerated, and the actions of the rear
admiral were accorded scant notice.
Patiomkine received the two cowards graciously, and, as usual,
forwarded their reports. Jones was not accustomed to this performance,
and in ignorance of their actions took no steps to establish the value
of his services beyond making a report of what he had done in the
usual way--a report quietly suppressed. Two days after Alexiano
returned on board the Wolodimer in the throes of a malignant fever, of
which he died on the 19th of July. It had been asserted that every
Greek in the squadron would immediately resign upon the death of
Alexiano, but nothing of the kind took place. The Greeks, like the
English and the Russians, remained contentedly under the command of
the rear admiral. On the day he died Catherine granted Alexiano a fine
estate in White Russia. At the same time Nassau received a valuable
estate with several thousand serfs in White Russia, and the military
order of St. George. The empress also directed him to hoist the flag
of a vice admiral when Otchakoff surrendered. Jones received the minor
order of St. Anne, an order with which he would have been perfectly
satisfied if the other officers had been awarded nothing more.
All the officers of the flotilla were promoted one step, and received
a year's pay with a gold-mounted sword. They were most of them
soldiers. The officers of the squadron, who were all sailors, and who
had conducted themselves gallantly and well, obtained no promotion,
received no pecuniary reward, and no mark of distinction was conferred
upon them. They were naturally indignant at being so slighted, but
when Jones promised them that he would demand justice for them at the
close of the campaign, they stifled their vexation and continued their
service.
It is evident that the failure to ascribe the victory to Jones was due
to Patiomkine, and his action in giving the credit to Nassau was
deliberate. Jones and Nassau had seriously disagreed. The scorn which
ability and courage feel for inefficiency and cowardice had not been
concealed by the admiral; he had been outspoken in his censure, and
not reserved in his strictures upon Nassau's conduct. He had treated
the ideas and suggestions of that foolish commander with the
indifference they merited, and had allowed no opportunity to pass of
exhibiting his contempt--which was natural, but impolitic.
He seems to have made the effort in the beginning to get along
pleasantly with Nassau, and to work with him for the good of the
service; but, after the demonstration of Nassau's lack of character
and capacity in the first action, and after the repeated failure of
the prince to maneuver the flotilla in the most ordinary manner, Jones
lost all patience with him. Patiomkine had endeavored to establish
harmony and good feeling between the two, not only by letters,
but by a personal visit which he paid the rear admiral on the
Wolodimer on the 29th of June. He did everything on that occasion
to persuade Nassau to make an apology for some remarks he had
addressed to Jones previously, and, having done so, effected
some kind of a reconciliation, but the differences between them were
so wide--Nassau was so worthless and Jones so capable, while both were
hot-tempered--that the breach between them was greater than before.
Between the two Patiomkine, while not at first unfriendly to Jones,
much preferred Nassau. Hence his action. Not only did Patiomkine
enjoin harmony, but Littlepage, the American, whom we have seen before
as the chamberlain of the King of Poland, who had accepted the command
of one of the ships under Jones, also wrote him to the same effect.
Jones received his letter in the spirit in which it was written, and
assured the writer that he had borne more from Nassau than he would
have done from any other than a madman, and he promised to continue to
try to do so. The effort was a failure. Littlepage himself, unable to
endure the animosities engendered between the squadron and the
flotilla, threw up his command and returned to Warsaw. His parting
counsel to Jones showed that he well understood the situation.
"Farewell, my dear admiral; take care of yourself, and look to whom
you trust. Remember that you have rather to play the part of a
politician than a warrior--more of a courtier than a soldier."
Jones indorsed upon this note the following remark:
"I was not skilled in playing such a part. I never neglected my duty."
To resume the narrative: After the defeat in the Liman, the grand
Turkish fleet sailed away from Otchakoff, which was then strictly
blockaded by Jones' squadron, assisted by thirty-five armed boats
which had been placed under his command. At the end of July the
Turkish fleet, having had an indecisive engagement with the Russians
at Sebastopol, returned to Otchakoff. Preparations were made by Jones
to receive an attack, but none was delivered. Three ships attempted to
run the blockade: one was sunk, and the others got in with difficulty.
Nothing of importance happened during the months of August and
September, in which Jones continued an effective blockade, although he
undertook some minor operations at the request of the marshal.
Patiomkine carried on the siege in a very desultory manner. In
accordance with his contradictory nature he sometimes pressed
operations vigorously, and then for weeks did nothing. He seems to
have had a harem in his camp, which perhaps accounts for his dawdling.
Nassau, with his usual boastfulness, sent word to Patiomkine that if
he had permission he would take the boats of the flotilla and knock a
breach in the walls of Otchakoff big enough to admit two regiments;
whereupon Patiomkine asked him wittily how many breaches he had made
in Gibraltar, and removed him from his command. He was sent northward,
where he still managed to hold the favor of the empress. This did not
greatly improve Jones' situation, however, for the relations between
him and Patiomkine had become so strained as to be impossible.
On the 24th of October Patiomkine sent him the following order:
"As it is seen that the capitan pasha comes in his kirlangich from the
grand fleet to the smaller vessels, and as before quitting this he may
attempt something, I request your excellence, the capitan pasha having
actually a greater number of vessels, to hold yourself in readiness to
receive him courageously, and drive him back. I require that this be
done without loss of time; if not, you will be made answerable for
every neglect."
Indorsing this insulting document as follows: "A warrior is always
ready, and I had not come there an apprentice," Jones immediately
returned a spirited answer, part of which is quoted:
"Monseigneur: I have the honour to transmit to your highness a plan of
the position in which I placed the squadron under my command this
morning, in conformity to your orders of yesterday. . . . I have
always conformed myself immediately, without murmuring, and most
exactly, to the commands of your highness; and on occasions when you
have deigned to leave anything to my own discretion I have been
exceedingly flattered, and believe you have had no occasion to repent.
At present, in case the capitan pacha does resolve on attempting
anything before his departure, I can give assurance beforehand that
the brave officers and crews I have the honour to command will do
their duty 'courageously,' though they have not yet been rewarded for
the important services they have already performed for the empire
under my eyes. I answer with my honour to explain myself fairly on
this delicate point at the end of the campaign. In the meantime I may
merely say that it is upon the sacred promise I have given them of
demanding justice from your highness in their behalf that they have
consented to stifle their grievances and keep silent."
This provoked a reply from Patiomkine and another tart rejoinder
from Jones. The correspondence, in which on one occasion Jones had
stated that "every man who thinks is master of his own opinion, and
this is mine"--good doctrine for the United States, impossible in
Russia--terminated by another order from Patiomkine, which closed as
follows:
"Should the enemy attempt to pass Oczakow, prevent him by every means
and defend yourself courageously."
Jones' indorsement on this document was as follows:
"It will be hard to believe that Prince Potemkin addressed such words
to Paul Jones!"
But the patience of the prince had reached its limit, and on the 28th
he summarily relieved Jones of his command, and replaced him by
Vice-Admiral Mordwinoff, who had received him so coldly when he
arrived at Kherson six months before.
The order relieving him is as follows:
"According to the special desire of her Imperial Majesty, your service
is fixed in the northern seas; and as this squadron and the flotilla
are placed by me under the orders of the vice admiral and the
Chevalier de Mordwinoff, your excellency may in consequence proceed on
the voyage directed; principally, as the squadron in the Liman, on
account of the season being so far advanced, can not now be united
with that of Sevastopol."
The northern sea service was only a pretext, but on the 30th Jones
replied with the following brief note:
"I am much flattered that her Majesty yet deigns to interest herself
about me; but what I shall ever regret is the loss of your regard. I
will not say that it is not difficult to find more skilful sea
officers than myself--I know well that it is a very possible thing;
but I feel emboldened to say that you will never find a man more
susceptible of a faithful attachment or more zealous in the discharge
of his duty. I forgive my enemies who are near you for the painful
blow aimed at me; but if there is a just God, it will be difficult for
Him to do as much."
Patiomkine was intensely angered by this note, and he took serious
exception to the implication that he had been influenced against Jones
by any one. Jones states in one of his letters that when he took leave
of Patiomkine a few days afterward, the prince remarked with much
anger:
"Don't believe that anyone leads me. No one leads me!" he shouted,
rising and stamping his foot, "not even the Empress!"--which was
correct. The jesting interrogation with which Catherine closes one of
her letters to Patiomkine by saying, "Have I done well, my master?"
contained much truth. However, he moderated his tone somewhat in the
face of the sturdy dignity of Jones, and, before the admiral started
for St. Petersburg, Patiomkine gave him the following letter to the
empress:
"Madam: In sending to the high throne of your Imperial Majesty
Rear-Admiral M. Paul Jones, I take, with submission, the liberty of
certifying the eagerness and zeal which he has ever shown for the
service of your Imperial Majesty, and to render himself worthy of the
high favour of your Imperial Majesty."
Having given the officers he commanded, who seem to have become much
attached to him, testimonials as to the high value of their services,
Jones embarked in a small open galley on the 1st of December for
Kherson. He was three days and three nights on the way, and suffered
greatly from the extreme cold. He arrived at Kherson dangerously ill,
and was unable to proceed upon his journey until the 17th of December.
When he reached Elizabethgrad he received word that Otchakoff had been
taken by storm the day he had departed from Kherson; over twenty
thousand Turks were put to the sword on that occasion. He arrived at
St. Petersburg on the 8th of January, 1789, and was ordered to appear
at court on the 11th, when the empress awarded him a private
interview, at which he presented the letter of Patiomkine. A few days
afterward Catherine sent him word that she would wait the arrival of
the prince before deciding what to do with him.