PAUL JONES, PIRATE AND PRIVATEER
We come now to consider the exploits of another historical character
whose life and adventures will ever be of unfailing interest on both
sides of the Atlantic. And yet, perhaps, this amazing Scotsman is to-day
better known in America than in Great Britain. Like many another before
him he rose from the rank of ordinary seaman to become a man that was
to be had in great fear if not respect. His fame has been celebrated in
fiction, and very probably many a story of which he has been made the
hero had no foundation in fact.
There is some dispute concerning his birth, but it seems pretty certain
that he was the son of John Paul, head gardener on Lord Selkirk’s estate
near Kirkcudbright. Paul Jones first saw light in the year 1728. Brought
up on the shores of the Solway Firth, it was only likely that he gave
up being assistant to his father and preferred the sea to gardening.
In his character there developed many of those traits which have been
such marked characteristics of the pirate breed. To realise Paul Jones,
you must think of a wild, reckless nature, burning with enthusiasm for
adventure, yet excessively vain and desirous of recognition. He was a
rebel, a privateer, a pirate and a smuggler; he was a villain, he was
quarrelsome, he was petty and mean. Finally, he was a traitor to his
country. When he died he had lived a most varied life, and had seen
service on merchantman, slaver and man-of-war.
After making several voyages to the West Indies in a merchantman as
ordinary and able-bodied seaman, he was promoted to rank of mate, and
then rose to the rank of master. Soon after the rupture between England
and America he happened to be in New England, and then it was that he
succumbed to the temptation to desert his own national standard and to
throw his aid on to the side of the revolutionists—for which reason he
changed his real name of John Paul to that of Paul Jones. Notwithstanding
that Jones has been justly condemned by biographers for having been a
traitor, yet my own opinion is that this change arose far less from
a desire to become an enemy of the British nation than from that
overwhelming _wanderlust_, and that irrepressible desire for adventure to
which we have already called attention. There are some men who have never
had enough fighting. So soon as one campaign ends they are unhappy till
another begins, so that they may find a full outlet for their spirits.
To such men as these the daily round of a peaceful life is a perpetual
monotony, and unless they can go forth to rove and wander, to fight or to
explore, their very souls would almost cry out for freedom.
So, I am convinced, it was with Paul Jones. To such a man nationalities
mean nothing more than certain artificial considerations. The only real
differences are those between the land and the sea. He knew that in
the forthcoming war he would find just the adventure which delighted
him; he would have every chance of obtaining booty, and his own natural
endowment, physical and mental, were splendidly suitable for such
activities. He had a special knowledge of British pilotage, so he was a
seaman distinctly worth having for any marauding expeditions that might
be set going. So in the year 1777 we find him very busy as commander,
fitting out the privateer _Ranger_. This vessel mounted 18 guns as well
as several swivel-guns, and had a desperate crew of 150 able men.
He put to sea and made two captures on the European side of the Atlantic,
sending each of these prizes into a French port. The following spring he
went a step further in his character as a rebel, for he appeared off the
Cumberland coast and began to attack a part of England that must have
been singularly well-known to him. He had made his landfall by daylight,
but stood away until darkness set in. At midnight he ran closer in, and
in grim silence he sent away his boats with thirty men, all well armed
and ready to perform a desperate job. Their objective was Whitehaven,
the entrance to the harbour being commanded by a small battery, so
their first effort must obviously be to settle that. Having landed with
great care, they rushed upon the small garrison and made the whole lot
prisoners. The guns of the battery were next spiked, and now they set
about their next piece of daring.
In the harbour the ships were lying side by side, the tide being out. The
good people of the town were asleep in their beds, and all the conditions
were ideal for burning the shipping where it stood. Very stealthily the
men went about their business, and had laid their combustibles on the
decks all ready for firing as soon as the signal should be given. But
just then something was happening. At the doors of the main street of
the little town there was a series of loud knockings, and people began
to wake and bustle about; and soon the sound of voices and the sight of
crowds running down to the pier. The marauders had now to hurry on the
rest of their work, for the alarm had been given and there was not a
moment to lose. So hastily the privateer’s men threw their matches on the
decks, then made for their boats and rowed off quickly to their ship.
But, luckily, the inhabitants of Whitehaven had come down just in time.
For they were able to extinguish the flames before serious damage had
been done. What was their joy was keen annoyance to the privateer’s men.
But who was the good friend who had taken the trouble to rouse the town?
Who had at once been so kind as to knock at the doors and to despoil the
marauders of their night’s work? When the shore party of the privateer
mustered on deck it was found that one man was missing, and this was the
fellow who, for some conscientious or worldly motive, had gone over to
the other side, and so saved both property and lives.
So Jones went a few miles farther north, crossed his familiar Solway
Firth and entered the river Dee, on the left bank of which stands
Kirkcudbright. He entered the estuary at dawn and let go anchor off Lord
Selkirk’s castle. When the natives saw this warlike ship in their river,
with her guns and her formidable appearance generally, they began to fear
she was a man-of-war come to impress men for the Navy. It happened that
the noble lord was away from home in London, and when the men-servants
at the castle espied what they presumed to be a King’s ship, they begged
Lady Selkirk for leave to go and hide themselves lest they might be
impressed into the service. A boat was sent from the ship, and a strong
body of men landed and marched to the castle, which, to the surprise of
all, they surrounded. Lady Selkirk had just finished breakfast when she
was summoned to appear before the leader of the men, whose rough clothes
soon showed the kind of fellows they were. Armed with pistols, swords,
muskets, and even an American tomahawk, they inquired for Lord Selkirk,
only to be assured his lordship was away.
The next request was that all the family plate should be handed over. So
all that was in the castle was yielded, even to the silver teapot which
was on the breakfast table and had not yet been washed out. The silver
was packed up, and with many apologies for having had to transact this
“dirty business,” as one of the officers called it, the pirates went back
to their ship rather richer than they had set out. But the inhabitants
of the castle were as much surprised as they were thankful to find their
own lives had not been demanded as well as the plate. The ship got under
way some time after, and put to sea without any further incident. Now
the rest of this story of the plate runs as follows, and shows another
side to the character of the head-gardener’s son: for, a few days after
this visit, Lady Selkirk received a letter from Jones, apologising for
what had been done, and stating that this raid had been neither suggested
nor sanctioned by him. On the contrary he had used his best influence to
prevent its occurrence. But his officers and crew had insisted on the
deed, with a view to capturing Lord Selkirk, for whose ransom they hoped
to obtain a large sum of money.
As an earnest of his own innocence in the matter, Paul Jones added that
he would try to purchase from his associates the booty which they had
brought away, and even if he could not return the entire quantity he
would send back all that he could. We need not stop to wonder whether
Lady Selkirk really believed such a statement; but the truth is that
about five years later the whole of the plate came back, carriage paid,
in exactly the same condition as it had left the castle. Apparently it
had never been unpacked, for the tea leaves were still in the teapot,
just as they had been taken away on that exciting morning.
But to come back to the ship. After leaving the Solway Firth astern,
Jones stood over to the Irish coast and entered Belfast Lough, amusing
himself on the way by burning or capturing several fishing craft. But
it happened that he was espied by Captain Burdon of H.M.S. _Drake_, a
sloop. Seeing Jones’ ship coming along, he took her to be a merchantman,
and so from her he could impress some seamen. So the officer lowered a
boat and sent her off. But when the boat’s crew came aboard Jones’ vessel
they had the surprise of their lives, for instead of arresting they
were themselves arrested. After this it seemed to Jones more prudent to
leave Belfast alone and get away with his capture. Meanwhile, Captain
Burdon was getting anxious about his men, as the boat had not returned.
Moreover, he noticed that the supposed merchantman was now crowding on
all possible sail, so he at once prepared his sloop for giving chase and
prepared for action, and, on coming up with the privateer, began a sharp
fire.
Night, however, intervened, and the firing had to stop, but when daylight
returned the engagement recommenced and continued for an hour. A fierce
encounter was fought on both sides, and at length Captain Burdon and his
first lieutenant were killed, as well as twenty of the crew disabled. The
_Drake’s_ topmast was shot away and the ship was considerably damaged, so
that there was no other alternative but to surrender to the privateer.
But as both sides of the Irish Channel were now infuriated against
Jones, he determined to leave these parts, and taking his prize with him
proceeded to Brest, where he arrived in safety. In the following year,
instead of the _Ranger_ he had command of a frigate called the _Bon
Homme Richard_, a 40-gun ship with 370 crew. In addition to this vessel
he had also the frigate _Alliance_, of 36 guns and 300 crew; the brig
_Vengeance_, 14 guns and 70 men; a cutter of eighteen tons; and a French
frigate named the _Pallas_. All except the last mentioned were in the
service of the American Congress. A little further down the coast of the
Bay of Biscay than Brest is L’Orient, and from this port Jones sailed
with the above fleet in the summer of 1779, arriving off the Kerry coast,
where he sent a boat’s crew ashore to bring back sheep. But the natives
captured the boat’s crew and lodged them in Tralee gaol.
After this Jones sailed to the east of Scotland and captured a number
of prizes, all of which he sent on to France. Finally he determined
to attempt no less a plan than burn the shipping in Leith harbour and
collect tribute from the undefended towns of the Fifeshire coast. He came
into the Firth of Forth, but as both wind and tide were foul, he let go
under the island of Inchkeith. Next day he weighed anchor and again tried
to make Leith, but the breeze had now increased to a gale, and he sprung
one of his topmasts which caused him to bear up and leave the Firth. He
now rejoined his squadron and cruised along the east coast of England.
Towards the end of September he fell in with a British convoy bound from
the Baltic, being escorted by two men-of-war, namely, H.M.S. _Serapis_
(44 guns), and H.M.S. _Countess of Scarborough_ (20 guns). And then
followed a most memorable engagement. In order that the reader may be
afforded some opportunity of realising how doughty an opponent was this
Paul Jones, and how this corsair was able to make a ship of the Royal
Navy strike colours, I append the following despatch which was written
by Captain Pearson, R.N., who commanded the _Serapis_. The _Countess
of Scarborough_ was under command of Captain Thomas Piercy, and this
officer also confirmed the account of the disaster. The narrative is so
succinct and clear that it needs no further explanation. The letter was
written from the Texel, whither Pearson was afterwards taken:—
“_PALLAS_ FRIGATE IN CONGRESS SERVICE,
TEXEL, _October 6, 1779_.
“On the 23rd ult. being close in with Scarborough about twelve
o’clock, a boat came on board with a letter from the bailiffs
of that corporation, giving information of a flying squadron
of the enemy’s ship being on the coast, of a part of the said
squadron having been seen from thence the day before standing
to the southward. As soon as I received this intelligence I
made the signal for the convoy to bear down under my lee, and
repeated it with two guns; notwithstanding which the van of
the convoy kept their wind with all sail stretching out to the
southward from under Flamborough-head, till between twelve and
one, when the headmost of them got sight of the enemy’s ships,
which were then in chase of them. They then tacked, and made
the best of their way under the shore for Scarborough, letting
fly their topgallant sheets, and firing guns; upon which I made
all the sail I could to windward, to get between the enemy’s
ship and the convoy, which I soon effected. At one o’clock we
got sight of the enemy’s ship from the masthead, and about four
we made them plain from the deck to be three large ships and a
brig! Upon which I made the _Countess of Scarborough’s_ signal
to join me, she being in-shore with the convoy; at the same
time I made the signal for the convoy to make the best of their
way, and repeated the signal with two guns. I then brought-to
to let the _Countess of Scarborough_ come up, and cleared ship
for action.
“At half-past five the _Countess of Scarborough_ joined me,
the enemy’s ships bearing down upon us with a light breeze at
S.S.W.; at six tacked and laid our head in-shore, in order to
keep our ground the better between the enemy’s ships and the
convoy; soon after which we perceived the ships bearing down
upon us to be a two-decked ship and two frigates, but from
their keeping end upon us in bearing down, we could not discern
what colours they were under. At twenty minutes past seven,
the largest ship of the two brought-to on our lee-bow, within
musket shot. I hailed him, and asked what ship it was? They
answered in English, the _Princess Royal_. I then asked where
they belonged to? They answered evasively; on which I told
them, if they did not answer directly I would fire into them.
They then answered with a shot, which was instantly returned
with a broadside; and after exchanging two or three broadsides,
he backed his topsails, and dropped upon our quarter, within
pistol-shot; then filled again, put his helm a-weather, and ran
us on board upon our weather quarter, and attempted to board
us, but being repulsed he sheered off: upon which I backed our
topsails in order to get square with him again; which, as soon
as he observed, he then filled, put his helm a-weather, and
laid us athwart hawse; his mizen shrouds took our jib-boom,
which hung for some time, till it at last gave way, and we
dropt alongside each other head and stern, when the fluke
of our spare anchor hooking his quarter, we became so close
fore-and-aft, that the muzzles of our guns touched each other’s
sides.
“In this position we engaged from half-past eight till
half-past ten; during which time, from the great quantity and
variety of combustible matters which they threw upon our decks,
chains, and, in short, into every part of the ship, we were on
fire not less than ten or twelve times in different parts of
the ship, and it was with the greatest difficulty and exertion
imaginable at times, that we were able to get it extinguished.
At the same time the largest of the two frigates kept sailing
round us during the whole action, and raking us fore and aft,
by which means she killed or wounded almost every man on the
quarter and main decks. At half-past nine, either from a hand
grenade being thrown in at one of our lower-deck ports, or
from some other accident, a cartridge of powder was set on
fire, the flames of which running from cartridge to cartridge
all the way aft, blew up the whole of the people and officers
that were quartered abaft the main mast; from which unfortunate
circumstance all those guns were rendered useless for the
remainder of the action, and I fear the greatest part of the
people will lose their lives.
“At ten o’clock they called for quarters from the ship
alongside, and said they had struck. Hearing this, I called
upon the captain to say if they had struck, or if he asked for
quarter; but receiving no answer, after repeating my words two
or three times, I called for the boarders, and ordered them to
board, which they did; but the moment they were on board her,
they discovered a superior number lying under cover, with pikes
in their hands, ready to receive them; on which our people
retreated instantly into our own ship, and returned to their
guns again until half-past ten, when the frigate coming across
our stern, and pouring her broadside into us again, without our
being able to bring a gun to bear on her, I found it in vain,
and in short impracticable, from the situation we were in, to
stand out any longer with any prospect of success; I therefore
struck. Our mainmast at the same time went by the board.
“The first lieutenant and myself were immediately escorted into
the ship alongside, when we found her to be an American ship
of war, called the _Bon Homme Richard_, of forty guns, and
375 men, commanded by Captain Paul Jones; the other frigate
which engaged us, to be the _Alliance_, of forty guns, and
300 men; and the third frigate, which engaged and took the
_Countess of Scarborough_, after two hours’ action, to be the
_Pallas_, a French frigate, of thirty guns, and 275 men; the
_Vengeance_, an armed brig, of twelve guns, and 70 men; all in
Congress service, under the command of Paul Jones. They fitted
out and sailed from Port l’Orient the latter end of July, and
came north about. They have on board 300 English prisoners,
which they have taken in different vessels in their way round
since they left France, and have ransomed some others. On my
going on board the _Bon Homme Richard_ I found her in the
greatest distress, her quarters and counter on the lower deck
being entirely drove in, and the whole of her lower-deck guns
dismounted; she was also on fire in two places, and six or
seven feet of water in her hold, which kept increasing upon
them all night and next day, till they were obliged to quit
her. She had 300 men killed and wounded in the action. Our loss
in the _Serapis_ was also very great.
“My officers, and people in general, behaved well; and I should
be very remiss in my attentions to their merit were I to omit
recommending them to their Lordships’ favour.
“I must at the same time beg leave to inform their Lordships
that Captain Piercy, in the _Countess of Scarborough_, was
not the least remiss in his duty, he having given me every
assistance in his power; and as much as could be expected
from such a ship in engaging the attention of the _Pallas_, a
frigate of thirty-two guns, during the whole action.
“I am extremely sorry for the accident that has happened, that
of losing His Majesty’s ship which I had the honour to command;
but at the same time I flatter myself with the hope that their
Lordships will be convinced that she has not been given away;
but, on the contrary, that every exertion has been used to
defend her, and that two essential pieces of service to our
country have arisen from it: the one, in wholly oversetting the
cruise and intentions of this flying squadron; the other is
rescuing the whole of a valuable convoy from falling into the
hands of the enemy, which must have been the case had I acted
any otherwise than I did. We have been driving about the North
Sea ever since the action, and endeavouring to make to any
port we possibly could; but have not been able to get into any
place till to-day we arrived in the Texel. Herewith I enclose
you the most correct list of the killed and wounded I have as
yet been able to procure, from my people being dispersed among
the different ships, and having been refused permission to make
much of them.
“R. PEARSON.
“_P.S._ I am refused permission to wait on Sir Joseph Yorke,[3]
and even to go on shore.
“The killed were—1 boatswain, 1 master’s mate, 2 midshipmen, 1
quarter-master, 29 sailors, 15 marines—49.
“Wounded—second lieutenant Michael Stanhope, Lieutenant
Whiteman, marines, 2 surgeon’s mates, 6 petty officers, 46
sailors, 12 marines—total, 68.”
It is obvious that the British Officers had fought their ships most
gallantly, and the King showed his appreciation by conferring the honour
of knighthood on Captain Pearson, and soon after Piercy was promoted to
the rank of Post-Captain, and promotion was also granted to the other
officers. But recognition was shown not merely by the State but by the
City, for the Directors of the Royal Exchange Assurance Company presented
Pearson with a piece of plate valued at a hundred guineas, and Piercy
with a similar gift valued at fifty guineas. They further voted their
thanks to the officers for having protected the rich fleets under their
care.
The British Ambassador, Sir Joseph York, had considerable difficulty in
procuring the release of the prisoners which Paul Jones had made from His
Majesty’s ships, and although he strenuously urged the States General to
detain Jones and his ships as a rebel subject with unlawful ships, yet
the squadron, after being carefully blockaded, succeeded in escaping one
dark night to Dunkirk. Jones had lost his ship the _Bon Homme Richard_ as
a result of the fight, and now made the _Alliance_ his flagship.
The story of Paul Jones from now is not capable of completion. For a
period of several years his movements were somewhat mysterious, although
it is known that on one occasion he sailed across the Atlantic in
the remarkable time of three weeks with despatches from the American
Congress. Then the fame of this remarkable fellow begins to wane.
After peace was concluded the active brain and fervent spirit of this
Paul Jones were not required, and he chafed against the fetters of
unemployment. It is true that he offered his services to the Empress of
Russia in 1788, but he seems very soon to have gone to Paris, where he
spent the rest of his life. There was no employment for him in the French
Navy, and finally he was reduced to abject poverty and ended his days in
the year 1792. The reader will doubtless have in mind that less than ten
years ago the United States had the body of Paul Jones brought across the
Atlantic and re-buried in North America.
It is not quite easy, altogether, to estimate the character of a man so
contradictory as Paul Jones. Had he been born in another age and placed
in different circumstances, there is no telling how illustrious he might
not have become. He was certainly a magnificent seaman and fighting man,
but over and above all he was an adventurer. Idolised as a hero both in
America and France, he struck terror in Britain. His latest biographer
has stated that the skull and crossbones never fluttered from his
masthead and that he never sailed with a letter of marque. But that being
so it can only be a mere quibble which can save him from being reckoned
among the most notorious pirates of history. A pirate is a person who
performs acts of piracy. It seems to me that it makes little difference
whether he hoists the conventional black pirate flag or not. It is not
the flag which makes a pirate, but the deeds and intentions of which he
is responsible. And if his biographer is correct in saying that Jones was
never commissioned as a privateer, that is still one more proof that in
raiding Whitehaven, the coasts of Scotland, Ireland, England; capturing
and burning merchant or fishing craft on the seas; taking their crews
into bondage,—he was acting without any shred of legality, and therefore
a pirate pure and simple.
A pirate—and a very daring pirate—he certainly was, though he was
primarily a sailor of fortune. As one can see from his life his devotion
of adventure was far superior to his devotion to nationality—Scotch,
English, French, American or Russian. He was willing and anxious to go
wherever there was fighting, wherever glory could be obtained. He was a
man who despised those who did not keep their word, and in the incident
of his fulfilment of the promise made to Lady Selkirk in respect of the
family plate, we have, at any rate in the life of Paul Jones, a proof
that sometimes there is honour among thieves. But his death in abject
poverty is but another illustration of the tragic ending which was
customary in the lives of many notorious pirates.