LAST YEARS AND DEATH.
The next year of his life the commodore passed in travel. His
destination when he left Russia was Copenhagen; perhaps he had in mind
the possibility of resuming the negotiations with the Danish
Government on the old claim, and it is possible that his deferred
pension may have had something to do with this intention. He had no
especial place to go; one city was as good as another to him. In his
busy wandering life he had never made a home for himself, and, while
his mind and heart turned with ever more intensity of affection to the
United States, yet he loved America in an abstract rather than a
concrete way. The principles for which the United States stood, and
upon which they were constituted and organized, appealed to him, but
those personal ties which he had formed in his brief sojourn before
the Revolution were weakened by absence or had been sundered by death.
There was no employment for him there, for his country had absolutely
no navy. Besides, he needed rest. He who had fought throughout a long
life for liberty and freedom, for honor and fame, was doomed to
struggle for that last desire for the few remaining years left him.
He traveled leisurely from St. Petersburg to Warsaw, where he was
kindly received at the court of Poland, and where he busied himself
preparing journals of his American service and of the Liman campaign,
copies of which he sent to Catherine. There, too, he met the great
Pole, Kosciusko, and the acquaintance between the veteran sailor and
the old soldier of the Revolution speedily ripened into intimacy.
Sweden had declared war against Russia. Kosciusko, who was the
inveterate enemy of this gigantic empire which finally wrote _finis
Poloniæ_ across the story of his country, would have been most happy
if he could have seen the fleets of Sweden led by so redoubtable a
warrior as Jones. But of course such a proposition was not, and could
not be, entertained by Jones.[50]
On leaving Warsaw for Vienna, it is suggested that he made the detour
necessitated by visiting that point, rather than proceeding directly
to Copenhagen via Berlin, at the instigation of Catherine, who desired
to remove him from the vicinity of the Swedes. She might not use him
herself, but she could not contemplate with any degree of equanimity
the possibility of his serving against her. There is not the slightest
evidence that he ever thought of entering the service of Sweden. He
repels the idea with indignation, and the sole foundation for it arose
from Kosciusko's ardent desire. Jones' conduct in the affair is beyond
criticism; indeed, he was too ill at that time, although he did not
realize it, to be employed by any one. In his papers the following
declaration is found. It is undated, and the documents to which it was
attached give no clew as to when it was written, or whether it was
ever published, but from its contents it must have been prepared while
he was on this leave of absence from Russia. It is a notable little
document, for it repeats his assertion of American citizenship,
expresses his intention of never warring against the United States or
France, and clearly defines the tenure of his connection with the
Russians:
"NOTICE.
"The Rear-Admiral Paul Jones, desirous of making known unequivocally
his manner of thinking in relation to his military connection with
Russia, declares:
"1st. That he has at all times expressed to her Imperial Majesty of
Russia his vow to preserve the condition of an American citizen and
officer.
"2d. That, having been honoured by his most Christian Majesty with a
gold sword, he has made a like vow never to draw it on any occasion
where war might be waged against his Majesty's interest.
"3d. That circumstances which the rear admiral could not foresee when
he wrote on the last occasion make him feel a presentiment that, in
spite of his attachment and gratitude to her Imperial Majesty, and
notwithstanding the advantageous propositions which may be made to
him, he will probably renounce the service of that power, even before
the expiration of the leave of absence which he now enjoys."
To return to his trip. After staying some time in Vienna, where he
seems to have been received with favor in high social circles, though
the illness of the emperor prevented his being presented, he went to
Amsterdam via Hamburg. Here he remained for some time, engaged, as
usual, in correspondence. He still seems to have cherished the
sailor's dream of buying a farm and passing his remaining years
thereon, for we find among his letters an inquiry addressed to Mr.
Charles Thompson, the Secretary of Congress, about an estate near
Lancaster, Pennsylvania, which he thought of purchasing from funds
invested in the United States. But in view of his anomalous connection
with Russia he thought it well to remain in Europe until it had either
ceased or been renewed. This was the time, being in need of funds,
that he wrote to his old friend Krudner to endeavor to secure payment
of the Danish pension.
Krudner readily undertook Jones' commission, and the Danish Government
promised to pay the pension at Copenhagen to any one whom Jones would
authorize to receive it. They never paid it. Krudner always retained
his friendship for Jones, and one of his letters closes with these
words:
"At all events, I flatter myself, as a good Russian, that your arm is
still reserved for us."
At the end of April, 1790, he crossed over to London on some financial
business, which he settled to his satisfaction. He remained but a
brief time in England--his visits there were always brief and devoid
of publicity; he seems to have felt keenly the hatred with which the
English regarded him, and under such circumstances his action was
wise.
Toward the close of May he returned to Paris, which was perhaps the
place where his happiest hours had been spent, and at Paris he
continued to reside until the last scene in his eventful history. It
was no longer the gay and pleasure-seeking resort of his earlier and
happier years. The grim shadow of the Revolution, as yet no larger
than a man's hand, was already lowering on the horizon. A year before
his arrival the States-General had been summoned for the first time in
a hundred and seventy-five years. On the 14th of July, eight months
before his coming, the drums of the sections rolled the knell of the
Bastile, and a little later still the old feudal constitution, which
had endured the vicissitudes of a thousand years of change, was
abrogated, and the rule of the people began. Louis XVI, poor puppet of
fortune, "imponderous rag of circumstance," was driven hither and
thither by the furious blasts of liberated passion charged with
centuries of animosity, for a few aimless, pitiful years, and
then--the guillotine!
For two years Jones lived in quiet retirement. He made but one other
public appearance, in July, 1790, in connection with the first
anniversary of the taking of the Bastile. Paris, inspirited with the
first breath of freedom, drawn from the first labor pains of the
Revolution, determined to celebrate in fitting style this grand
anniversary. Different groups of foreigners residing in France sent
delegates to appear before the National Assembly and ask permission to
take part in the national _fête_. Paul Jones headed the Americans, and
made an address to the Assembly. Thenceforward he did nothing of a
public character.
His traveling had brought him neither surcease of care nor restoration
to health. His hardy constitution, shattered by constant exposure in
all weathers and every climate, and worn out by the chafings of his
ardent and impatient temperament throughout the course of a career
checkered by periods of alternate exaltation and depression, and
filled with hopes and disappointments in equal measure, was rapidly
yielding to the pains and ailments which were ushering in the fatal
moment which should put an end to all his dreams and aspirations. His
time, however, was not passed unhappily, and returns from investments
provided him with enough for his simple needs. During the stirring
hours of the beginning of the Revolution he busied himself in writing
his journals, arranging the great mass of papers he had accumulated,
and in his never-failing correspondence. Sometimes he attended the
Sorbonne, and held discussion with philosophers. Madame de Telison was
with him.
He was drawn in two ways by the condition of France. His sympathies
were ever with humanity struggling for freedom; but he had received so
many marks of favor from the French king, to whom he owed his great
opportunities for achievement and advancement, that he could scarcely
view with equanimity the dangers and harassments of that unhappy
monarch. He was a republican through and through in principle, but by
instinct and association, if not by birth, he was one of the proudest
and most thoroughgoing of aristocrats--as Washington was an
aristocrat. Like many other people, his theory of life and government
was different from his practice. Besides, the liberty which the French
were striving to establish was already perilously verging on that
unbounded license into which it soon degenerated, and that his
disciplined soul abhorred. His associates in France were mainly among
the Girondists, with whom he was more nearly affiliated than with
other political parties.
He did not realize that he was so broken in health, for he still clung
to his tenuous connection with Russia, sending repeated letters to
Catherine and Patiomkine, with demands, requests, and suggestions of
various plans for service. Patiomkine, as usual, took no notice, but
the last letter to Catherine having been forwarded through Baron
Grimm, she directed him, rather curtly by the way, to inform Jones
that if she had service for him she would let him know. After that
Jones seems to have discontinued his letters to Russia. He found,
however, two new outlets for his restless zeal. Early in 1792,
chancing to meet an Algerian corsair, who had captured many Americans
now held for ransom in Algiers, he learned much of the unfortunate
condition of those unhappy sailors, to whose fate their country was
apparently oblivious. The corsair informed him that if these captives
were not ransomed promptly they would be sold into slavery. Jones
wrote immediately to Jefferson, then Secretary of State, and with all
his power urged that something be done for them, either by sending a
force to compel restitution or by means of ransom. The letter, as we
shall see, was not without result.
The second object of interest was a claim which he entertained against
the French Government for salary due him while in command of the Bon
Homme Richard and the squadron. The United States had paid him his
salary as an officer during that period, but he felt that since his
services had been asked by France, and the squadron had been at the
charge of the French Government, a further amount was due him from the
French, and he wrote to de Bertrand, Minister of Marine, demanding the
balance due. The claim was the subject of acrid correspondence, and
the matter was pending when he died.[51] From the letters written
during the last years of his life I quote portions of three--the first
two to his sister, Mrs. Taylor, and the last one to Lafayette:
"Amsterdam, _March 26, 1790_.
"I wrote you, my dear friend, from Paris, by Mr. Kennedy, who
delivered me the kind letter you wrote me by him. Circumstances
obliged me to return soon afterward to America, and on my arrival at
New York Mr. Thomson delivered me a letter that had been intrusted to
his care by Mrs. Loudon. It would be superfluous to mention the great
satisfaction I received in hearing from two persons I so much love and
esteem, and whose worthy conduct as wives and mothers is so
respectable in my eyes. Since my return to Europe a train of
circumstances and changes of residence have combined to keep me
silent. This has given me more pain than I can express; for I have a
tender regard for you both, and nothing can be indifferent to me that
regards your happiness and the welfare of your children. I wish for a
particular detail of their age, respective talents, characters, and
education. I do not desire this information merely from curiosity. It
would afford me real satisfaction to be useful to their establishment
in life. We must study the genius and inclination of the boys, and try
to fit them, by a suitable education, for the pursuits we may be able
to adopt for their advantage. When their education shall be advanced
to a proper stage, at the school of Dumfries for instance, it must
then be determined whether it may be most economical and advantageous
for them to go to Edinburgh or France to finish their studies. All
this is supposing them to have great natural genius and goodness of
disposition; for without these they can never become eminent. For the
females, they require an education suited to the delicacy of character
that is becoming in their sex. I wish I had a fortune to offer to each
of them; but though this is not the case, I may yet be useful to them.
And I desire particularly to be useful to the two young women, who
have a double claim to my regard, as they have lost their father.
Present my kind compliments to Mrs. Loudon, her husband, to Mr.
Taylor, and your two families, and depend on my affectionate
attachment...."
"Paris, _December 27, 1790_.
"I duly received, my dear Mrs. Taylor, your letter of the 16th August,
but ever since that time I have been unable to answer it, not having
been capable to go out of my chamber, and having been for the most
part obliged to keep my bed. I have now no doubt but that I am in a
fair way to perfect recovery, though it will require time and
patience.
"I shall not conceal from you that your family discord aggravates
infinitely all my pains. My grief is inexpressible that two sisters,
whose happiness is so interesting to me, do not live together in that
_mutual tenderness and affection_ which would do so much honour to
themselves and to the memory of their worthy relations. Permit me to
recommend to your serious _study_ and _application_ Pope's Universal
Prayer. You will find more morality in that little piece than in many
volumes that have been written by great divines:
"'Teach me to feel another's woe,
_To hide the fault I see;_
That mercy I to others show,
_Such mercy show to me_.'
"This is not the language of a weak, superstitious mind, but the
spontaneous offspring of true religion, springing from a heart
sincerely inspired by charity, and deeply impressed with a sense of
the calamities and _frailties_ of human nature. If the sphere in which
Providence has placed us as members of society requires the exercise
of brotherly kindness and charity toward our neighbour in general, how
much more is this our duty with respect to individuals with whom we
are connected by the near and tender ties of nature as well as moral
obligation. Every lesser virtue may pass away, but _charity_ comes
from Heaven, and is immortal. Though I wish to be the instrument of
making family peace, which I flatter myself would tend to promote the
happiness of you all, yet I by no means desire you to do violence to
your own feelings by taking any step that is contrary to your own
judgment and inclination. Your reconciliation must come free from your
heart, otherwise it will not last, and therefore it will be better not
to attempt it. Should a reconciliation take place, I recommend it of
all things, that you never mention past grievances, nor show, by
_word, look, or action_, that you have not forgot them."
"Paris, _December 7, 1791_.
"Dear General: My ill health for some time past has prevented me from
the pleasure of paying you my personal respects, but I hope shortly to
indulge myself with that satisfaction.
"I hope you approve the quality of the fur linings I brought from
Russia for the King and yourself. I flatter myself that his Majesty
will accept from your hand that little mark of the sincere attachment
I feel for his person; and be assured that I shall be always ready to
draw the sword with which he honoured me for the service of the
virtuous and illustrious 'Protector of the Rights of Human Nature.'
"When my health shall be established, M. Simolin will do me the honour
to present me to his Majesty as a Russian admiral. Afterward it will
be my duty, as an American officer, to wait on his Majesty with the
letter which I am directed to present to him from the United States."
Jones appears in a very pleasant light in all of these letters, and I
am glad to read the evidences of gentleness and of affection and
kindly feeling which they present. In March, 1792, his disease, which
had developed into a lingering form of dropsy, became complicated with
a disorder of the liver. He grew much worse, lost his appetite, became
very jaundiced, and was confined to his bedroom for two months. Under
treatment he grew temporarily better, until the beginning of July,
when he became suddenly worse again and the dropsy began to manifest
itself once more. The disease attacked his chest. His legs became much
swollen, and the enlargement extended upward so that he could not
button his waistcoat and had great difficulty in breathing.
He was not, as has been asserted, in poverty and want, deserted by his
friends. He lived in a comfortable apartment in the second story of
No. 42 Tournon Street, and enjoyed the services of one of the best
physicians in France, who was, in fact, physician to the queen.
Gouverneur Morris, the American Minister, was a warm friend of his,
and paid him many visits during his dying hours. He had no lack of
other friends either, for he was attended by two gentlemen,
ex-American army officers, Colonels Swan and Blackden, and by a French
officer, M. Beaupoil. They all seem to have been fond of the little
commodore, and to have visited him constantly. They did everything
possible to lighten his dying hours. His symptoms became so alarming
about the middle of July that Colonel Blackden took upon himself the
duty of advising him to make his will and settle his affairs. He put
off this action until the 18th of the month. On the afternoon of that
day Morris drew up a schedule of his property from Jones' own
dictation, and his friends having sent for a notary, he made his will,
which was drawn in English by Morris, and transcribed in French by the
notary. The will was witnessed by Swan, Blackden, and Beaupoil.[52] In
this document--the last of all his writings--dictated in those solemn
hours when he looked Death in the face in final glance, the real value
of earthly honors and titles became apparent to him; he describes
himself with touching simplicity, not as Commodore, Chevalier, or
Admiral--titles he had loved--but in greater words as "_John Paul
Jones, a citizen of the United States_."
At eight o'clock in the evening his friends bade him good by, and
perhaps "Good night" were the last words any one heard him speak. They
left him seated in his armchair in his parlor in the second story. A
short time after their departure the physician arrived to pay his
regular evening visit. The armchair was empty, and the door of the
chamber adjoining the parlor was open. He walked over toward it and
stopped in the entrance, and this is what he saw: the figure of the
great commodore lying prone upon the bed, his feet touching the floor
and his hands outstretched before him. There was no sound in the still
room. The physician stepped softly to the bedside, turned him over,
and laid his hand upon his heart. He felt no responsive throb. The
little captain of the Bon Homme Richard was dead, worn out, fretted
away, broken down, at the age of forty-five! "The hand of a conqueror
whom no human power can resist had been laid upon his shoulder, and
for the first time in his life the face of Paul Jones was turned away
from the enemy."[53] Fitting, indeed, would it have been if from the
deck of the war ship the soul of the sea king had taken its flight;
but, after all, he was at rest at last--"in peace after so many
storms, in honor after so much obloquy."
The peculiar position in which he was found, as I have thought upon
it, has suggested to me the possibility that, when he felt the last
crisis coming upon him, he may have attempted to sink down by his
bedside, that the call of his Maker might find him--as years after it
found David Livingstone in the heart of dark Africa--on his knees in
prayer. And then sometimes I think--and this is perhaps more
likely--that he may have risen to his feet to face death, as was his
wont, and have fallen forward when it came. No one can tell. A century
has fled away since they found him there, but the sorrow of it all is
still present with me as I write. An exile from his native land, far
from the country of his adoption, in the prime of life, he dies. There
was not a woman with him to whisper words of comfort, to give him that
last touch of tenderness that comes from a woman's hand. Alone he had
lived--alone he died. Oh, the pity of it! The man of the world, become
the citizen of the new republic, had found another country--let us
hope a heavenly one. He did much and he suffered much, and for such we
may be sure there is much charity, much forgiveness.
By the terms of his will all his property, amounting to some thirty
thousand dollars, was left to his two surviving sisters and their
children--the same to whom he had sent those sweet words counseling
forbearance and consideration. The fact that he had shown but little
of the one and had received but little of the other in his life only
accentuates his sense of their need. One other honor his country had
in store for him, but it arrived too late. He had been long buried
when a commission appointing him to negotiate the release of the
prisoners in Algiers arrived in France. It was an honor he would have
appreciated, and in carrying it out he would have found a congenial
task.
The National Assembly honored his memory by sending a deputation,
headed by its president, to represent them at his funeral, which took
place on the second day after his death, at eight o'clock in the
evening. All his friends, including the Americans, were there as well.
A French Protestant clergyman named Marron conducted the services and
delivered a eulogy, but one sentence of which is worthy of quotation:
"The fame of the brave outlives him; his portion is immortality."
It has been determined recently that the interment was made in the
little cemetery reserved for those who died in the Protestant faith,
situated at the corner of the Rue de la Grange aux Belles and Rue des
Écluses Saint Martin--then in the suburbs, now in the heart of the
city. The cemetery was officially closed on January 1, 1793. A canal
was afterward cut through it and buildings erected upon the other,
lots. The exact location of Jones' grave is unknown, and, as there
were at least ten thousand people buried there, it would probably be a
matter of great difficulty to find it, should the effort be made; and
the expense would be considerable. The body, clad in an American
uniform, was incased in a leaden coffin, with sword,[54] etc., and
unless all the elements have been dissipated by the action of the
water it might be possible to identify his remains. Certainly there is
no question, if satisfactory settlement could be had, that his remains
should be brought to the United States, with all naval honors, here to
be suitably interred and his grave marked by an appropriate monument.
So far as I know, there has not even been so much as a memorial tablet
erected to his memory in any part of the great country toward whose
independence he contributed so much. A serious and ungrateful omission
this, and, whether his remains be found or not, it is to be hoped that
it may be soon rectified.[55]