Chapter X: Last Days 118 (2)

These British ships of war were the Serapis, a new frigate of forty-four guns, and the Countess of Scarborough, twenty guns. The Alliance, at that time, which was late in the afternoon, was not in sight, and the little Vengeance, which had been sent to look for Landais, was also not available. There were, therefore, two ships on each side, and Jones ordered Captain Cottineau, of the Pallas, to look after the Countess of Scarborough, while he himself took care of the Serapis. Jones never lost his head in action, and yet he decided, with that "cool, determined bravery," of which Benjamin Franklin spoke, and with "that presence of mind which never deserted him" in action, recorded by Fanning, to engage a ship known by him to be the superior of the Bonhomme Richard in almost every respect. It has been said of Jones by one who fought with him that only in battle was he absolutely at ease: only at times of comparative inaction, when he could not exert himself fully, was he restless and irritable. On this occasion he joyfully engaged a ship which threw a weight of metal superior to his by three to two, that sailed much faster, and was consequently at an advantage in manoeuvring for position, and that had a crew equal to that of Jones in numbers, and far more disciplined and homogeneous. A battle resulted which for desperate fighting has never been excelled, and perhaps never equaled on the sea.

V

THE FIGHT WITH THE SERAPIS

Jones crowded on all possible sail, and the Bonhomme Richard came within pistol shot of the Serapis. It was seven o'clock of a fine moonlight night. Captain Pearson, of the British ship, then hailed, and was answered with a whole broadside from the Bonhomme Richard, an unfriendly salute which was promptly returned by the British ship.

From the beginning the fight seemed to go against the Bonhomme Richard. There was hardly any stage of the three and a half hours' desperate combat when Jones might not, with perfect propriety, have surrendered. Hardly had the battle begun when two of the six old eighteen-pounders forming the battery of the lower gun-deck of the Richard exploded, killing the men working them and rendering the whole battery useless for the rest of the action. Captain Pearson, perceiving his advantage in speed and power of shot, attempted again and again to pass the bow of the Richard and rake her. Jones's whole effort, on the other hand, was to close with the Serapis and board, knowing that it was only a question of time when, in a broadside fight, the Richard would be sunk.

After the broadsiding had continued with unremitting fury for about three quarters of an hour, and several of the Richard's twelve-pounders also had been put out of action, Captain Pearson thought he saw an opportunity, the Serapis having veered and drawn ahead of the Richard, to luff athwart the latter's hawse and rake her. But he attempted the manoeuvre too soon, and perceiving that the two ships would be brought together if he persisted in his course, he put his helm alee, bringing the two vessels in a line; and the Serapis having lost her headway by this evolution, the Richard ran into her weather quarter. Jones was quick to make his first attempt to board, but he could not mass enough men at the point of contact to succeed, and the ships soon swung apart.

The Richard, even at this early stage of the action, was in a deplorable condition. Little of her starboard battery was left. Henry Gardner, a gunner during the action, stated in his account of the battle that, at this time, of the 140 odd officers and men stationed in the main gun-deck battery at the beginning, over eighty were killed or wounded. There were three or four feet of water in the hold, caused by the Serapis's eighteen-pound shot, which had repeatedly pierced the hull of the Richard.

It is no wonder that Captain Pearson, knowing that his enemy was hard put to it, thought, after the failure to board, that Jones was ready to surrender.

"Has your ship struck?" he called, and Jones made his famous reply:--

"I have not yet begun to fight."

That Jones really made some such reply, there is no doubt. Certainly, it was characteristic enough. Jones fought all his life, and yet when he died he had hardly begun the conflict, so many of his ambitious projects remained unrealized.

When the ships had swung apart, the broadsiding continued, increasingly to the advantage of the Serapis. Had not a lucky wind, favorable to the Richard, arisen at this point, doubtless her time above water would have been short. The veering and freshening breeze enabled the Richard to blanket the enemy's vessel, which consequently lost her headway, and another fortunate puff of wind brought the Richard in contact with the Serapis in such a way that the two vessels lay alongside one another, bow to stern, and stern to bow. Jones, with his own hand, helped to lash the two ships together. The anchor of the Serapis fortunately hooked the quarter of the Richard, thus binding the frigates still more firmly together.

During the critical time when Jones was bending every nerve to grapple with the Serapis, the Alliance made her first appearance, poured a broadside or two into the Richard, and disappeared. Of this remarkable deed Jones wrote to Dr. Franklin: "At last the Alliance appeared, and I now thought the battle at an end; but to my utter astonishment he discharged a broadside full into the stern of the Bon Homme Richard." It is probable that the Serapis also suffered from Landais's attack, but not so much as the Richard, which lay between the other two ships.

After the Serapis and the Richard had been well lashed together, there began a new phase of the battle, which had already lasted about an hour. There were only three guns left in action on the Richard, nine-pounders on the quarter-deck, and the ship was badly leaking. The eighteen-pounders of the enemy had riddled the gun-deck of the American ship, rendering her, below-decks, entirely untenable. The real fight from this time to the end was consequently above-decks. Jones abandoned any attempt at great gun fire, except by the three small pieces on the quarter-deck, drew practically his entire remaining crew from below to the upper deck and the tops, and devoted his attention to sweeping the decks of the enemy by the musketry of his French marines from the quarter and poop decks, and of the American sailors in the tops. The crew of the Serapis, on the other hand, were forced mainly to take refuge in their well-protected lower decks, from which they continued to fire their great guns into the already riddled hull and lower decks of the Richard.

After the juncture of the vessels Captain Pearson made several desperate attempts to cut the anchor loose, hoping in that way to become free again of the Richard, in which case he knew that the battle was his. Jones, of course, was equally determined to defend the anchor fastenings. He personally directed the fire of his French marines against the British in their repeated attempts to sever the two ships, to such good purpose that not a single British sailor reached the coveted goal. So determined was Jones on this important point that he took loaded muskets from the hands of his French marines and shot down several of the British with his own hand.

The captain of the French marines, who rendered at this important stage of the action such good service, had been wounded early in the battle, and the succeeding lieutenants had also been either killed or disabled. The marines had been greatly diminished in numbers and were much disheartened at the time Jones took personal command of them. Nathaniel Fanning vividly narrates the manner in which Jones handled these Frenchmen: "I could distinctly hear, amid the crashing of the musketry, the great voice of the commodore, cheering the French marines in their own tongue, uttering such imprecations upon the enemy as I never before or since heard in French or any other language, exhorting them to take good aim, pointing out objects for their fire, and frequently giving them direct example by taking their loaded muskets from their hands into his and firing himself. In fact, toward the very last, he had about him a group of half a dozen marines who did nothing but load their firelocks and hand them to the commodore, who fired them from his own shoulder, standing on the quarter-deck rail by the main topmast backstay."

A French sailor, Pierre Gerard, who has left a memoir of the battle, tells how his countrymen responded to Jones's presence: "Commodore Jones sprang among the shaking marines on the quarter-deck like a tiger among calves. They responded instantly to him. In an instant they were filled with courage! The indomitable spirit, the unconquerable courage of the commodore penetrated every soul, and every one who saw his example or heard his voice became as much a hero as himself!"

Both vessels were at this time, and later, on fire in various places. Captain Pearson says in his official report that the Serapis was on fire no less than ten or twelve times. Half the men on both ships had been killed or disabled. The leak in the Richard's hold grew steadily worse, and the mainmast of the Serapis was about to go by the board. The Alliance again appeared and, paying no heed to Jones's signal to lay the Serapis alongside, raked both vessels for a few minutes indiscriminately, went serenely on her way, and brought her inglorious and inexplicable part in the action to a close. Captain Pearson had, for a moment, towards the end of the action, a ray of hope. A gunner on the Richard, thinking the ship was actually sinking, called for quarter, but Jones stunned him with the butt end of a pistol, and replied to Pearson, who had again hailed to know if the Richard had struck, to quote his own report, "in the most determined negative." About the same time, the master at arms, also believing the ship to be sinking, opened the hatches and released nearly two hundred British prisoners, taken in the various prizes of the cruise.

Nothing, apparently, could be more desperate than the situation of Paul Jones then. His guns useless, his ship sinking and on fire, half of his crew dead or disabled, the Alliance firing into him, a portion of his crew panic-stricken, and two hundred British prisoners at large on the ship! But with Lieutenant Richard Dale to help him, he boldly ordered the prisoners to man the pumps, and continued the fight with undiminished energy. Soon after occurred the event which practically decided the battle in his favor. He had given orders to drop hand grenades from the tops of the Richard down through the enemy's main hatch. It was by this means that the Serapis had been so often set on fire. Now at an opportune moment, a hand grenade fell among a pile of cartridges strung out on the deck of the Serapis and caused a terrible explosion, killing many men. This seemed to reduce materially the fighting appetite of the British, and soon after a party of seamen from the Richard, with the dashing John Mayrant at their head, boarded the Serapis, and met with little resistance. Captain Pearson thereupon struck his colors, and the victory which marked the zenith of Jones's career, and upon which all else in his life merely served as commentary, was scored. Captain Pearson, in his court-martial, which was a formality in the British navy in case of defeat, explained Jones's victory in a nutshell: "It was clearly apparent," he said, "that the American ship was dominated by a commanding will of the most unalterable resolution," and again, "the extraordinary and unheard-of desperate stubbornness of my adversary had so depressed the spirits of my people that, when more than two hundred had been slain or disabled out of 317 all told, I could not urge the remnant to further resistance."

The capture of the British ship, which took place about half-past ten at night, came none too soon, for the old Bonhomme Richard was sinking. The flames were extinguished by combined efforts of crew and prisoners by ten o'clock the next morning, but with seven feet of water, constantly increasing in the hold, it was then apparent that it was impossible to keep the old vessel afloat, and men, prisoners, and powder were transferred to the Serapis. On the morning of the 25th Jones obtained, "with inexpressible grief," as he said, "the last glimpse of the Bonhomme Richard," as she went down.

The desperate battle fought in the bright moonlight was witnessed by many persons in Scarborough and on Flamborough Head, and they spread the alarming tidings throughout England. In a letter to Robert Morris, written soon after, Jones said, of the cruise in general: "We alarmed their coasts prodigiously from Cape Clear round to Hull; and had I not been concerned with sons of interest I could have done much."

With his two new prizes (for the Countess of Scarborough had after a short action struck to the greatly superior Pallas) Jones set off for the Texel, with a most dilapidated crew and fleet. The Alliance, well called a "Comet" by the editor of the Janette-Taylor collection of Jones's papers, disappeared again after the battle. Landais, whose conduct was described by Jones as being that of "either a fool, a madman, or a villain," was afterwards dismissed the service, but not until he had cut up other extraordinary pranks. He now went off with his swift and uninjured frigate to the Texel, leaving Jones, laden down with prisoners and wounded, unassisted. Of the Richard's crew of 323, 67 men had been killed, leaving 106 wounded and 150 others to be accommodated on the injured Serapis. Then there were 211 English prisoners on the Richard at the beginning of the action; and of the 332 (including 8 sick men and 7 non-combatants) men composing the crew of the Serapis, there were 245 left to be cared for--134 wounded, 87 having been killed. There were, consequently, only 150 well men to look after 562 wounded and prisoners. Some of the latter were afterwards transferred to the Pallas, but altogether it was an unwieldy fleet which slowly sailed for the Texel, at which neutral port Jones arrived October 3, none too soon, for as he entered the roads, an English squadron, consisting of a sixty-four ship of the line and three heavy frigates, which had been looking for him, hove in sight.

The effect of the cruise was very great. The English people, alarmed and incensed, never forgot it. Never before had one of their ships of war been conquered by a vessel of greatly inferior force. Their coasts, deemed impregnable, were again invaded by the man whom they called, in the blindness of their rage, pirate and renegade. Professor Houghton, a serious-minded historian, writing of Jones said: "His moral character can be summed up in one word--detestable." English comment on Paul Jones may be summed up truthfully in one word,--envenomed. Jones's exploits, moreover, greatly increased the prestige of young America, and made of himself a still greater hero at home and particularly in France. For the rest of his life, indeed, Jones, in France especially, where spectacles are peculiarly appreciated, was the man on horseback, and he enjoyed the position intensely. Fanning narrates how Jones, while at Amsterdam, soon after his arrival in the Texel, "was treated as a conqueror. This so elated him with pride, that he had the vanity to go into the State House, mount the balcony or piazza, and show himself in the front thereof, to the populace and people of distinction then walking on the public parade."

VI

DIPLOMACY AT THE TEXEL

Jones found himself in a position at the Texel which demanded all the shrewdness as well as the determination of his character. Impatient, irritable, and passionate as he often was, his judgment was nevertheless excellent. Benjamin Franklin, when Jones at a later time was again put in a delicate situation, wrote him:--

"You have shown your abilities in fighting; you have now an opportunity of showing the other necessary part in the character of a great chief,--your abilities in policy."

Jones's ability in policy appeared in a more favorable light in the Texel than at any other period of his career, although too great weight has been laid upon the degree of it. The important problem to be solved was how to induce the Dutch authorities to allow him and his battered ships to remain for a time in the shelter of their port. Jones knew that the attainment of this object would help to bring about a rupture between England and Holland. The latter country was secretly in sympathy with the revolted colonies, but eager at that time to maintain officially friendly relations with England. Consequently, when Jones arrived with his prizes, the Dutch authorities were in a quandary, much aggravated by the action of the British minister in Holland, Sir Joseph Yorke, who demanded that the "pirate's" prizes be delivered up to England. He reiterated his demand to the States-General in the following language: "I only discharge the orders of his Majesty in renewing the most strong and urgent demand for the seizure and restitution of said vessels as well as for the enlargement of their crews, who have been seized by the pirate, Paul Jones, a Scotchman, a rebellious subject, and state criminal."

Jones, in reply to the allegations of the British minister, copies of whose letters had been sent him, wrote the States-General an able letter. He inclosed a copy of his commission from the United States government, and then argued that the United States was a "sovereign power" and entitled to issue such a commission. He pointed out that the sovereignty had been recognized by France and Spain, and that belligerent rights had been recognized by Prussia and by Russia. Only one of Sir Joseph's charges he admitted to be true,--that he was a Scotchman, but he denied the inference made from it,--that he was a "state criminal." He wrote: "It cannot have escaped the attention of Your High Mightinesses that every man now giving fealty to the cause of American Independence was born a British subject." If he were a "state criminal," then, he argued, General Washington, Benjamin Franklin, and all other American patriots were also "state criminals."

Soon after this letter was received the States-General passed a resolution declining to "consider any question affecting the validity of Paul Jones's commission or his status as a person." They declined likewise "to do anything from which it might lawfully be inferred that they recognized the independence of the American colonies." They also resolved that Paul Jones should be asked to leave their port, but not until the wind and weather should be favorable. They had refused, therefore, to consider Jones as a pirate, or to deliver up his prizes.

Paul Jones's plan was not to admit that a favorable wind had arisen until the last possible moment. He did not wish to be taken by the strong British fleet waiting for him outside the harbor, and he desired, as he said, in order to provoke war between Holland and England, "to try the patience of the English party to the last bit of strain it would bear by keeping my anchorage in Dutch waters on plea of distress, and at the same time I wished to be ready for instant departure the moment I saw that the plea of distress could no longer be plausibly held."

The French Minister of Marine, de Sartine, however, fearing that ultimately the pressure would be so great that the squadron would be compelled to depart and thus fall into the clutches of the British, demanded that the French flag, which naturally commanded greater respect from Holland than the flag of the United States, should be displayed. Benjamin Franklin agreed with the French minister, but Jones protested:--

"In vain I expostulated with them that by accepting the shelter of the French flag I should do exactly of all things what Sir Joseph Yorke wished me to do, namely, withdraw all pretensions of the United States as a party to the situation, and thereby confess that the United States claimed no status as a sovereign power in a neutral port."

Jones was forced to yield, the French flag was displayed, the command was given to the French captain, Cottineau, and Jones retained only the Alliance, an American ship, from which he was allowed, however, to fly the American flag.

To add to Jones' sorrows de Sartine offered him, through the Duc de Vauguyan, a French commission to command the Alliance as a letter of marque. He rejected it with indignation: "My rank from the beginning knew no superior in the marine of America; how then must I be humbled were I to accept a letter of marque! I should, my lord, esteem myself inexcusable were I to accept even a commission of equal or superior denomination to that I bear, unless I were previously authorized by Congress, or some other competent authority in Europe." That the Serapis, the prize for which he had so bravely contended, had been taken from him, was another of the wrongs which rankled deeply in Jones's soul.

Jones must have got a great deal of satisfaction, however, from the fact that he continued defiantly to wave the American flag from the Alliance, and that he delayed his enforced departure, in spite of great pressure from the admiral of the Dutch fleet, until December 26, when with the Alliance he dashed out of the harbor "under his best American colors," ran the gauntlet of the British fleet cruising outside, and escaped into the open sea.

Before leaving the Texel, Jones, on December 17, 1779, wrote Dr. Bancroft: "I am sure that the strain put upon the relations between Holland and England must end in rupture between them within this year."

War was indeed declared between England and Holland on December 19, 1780, and in the bill of grievances set forth in the proclamation of a state of war against Holland, the statement is made: "That, in violation of treaty, they [the States-General] suffered an American Pirate (one Paul Jones, a Rebel, and State Criminal) to remain several weeks in one of their ports."

It is clear, therefore, that Jones's pertinacious stay in the Dutch port brought about important results.

Another instance of Jones's _sang-froid_ in matters where time was given for his judgment to come into play, was the way he treated Landais at the Texel. On his arrival at that port Jones sent to Dr. Franklin charges against the captain of the Alliance, whom he removed from command. Whereupon Landais sent Jones a challenge to a duel. Fanning narrates: "But the latter [Jones], perhaps not thinking it prudent to expose himself with a single combatant, who was a complete master of the smallsword, declined." In the second edition of his memoir Fanning said that Jones accepted Landais's challenge, but insisted on substituting pistols, with which he was an expert, for swords, a proposition which Landais refused.

Although again on the sea and free from the irritations of the Texel, Jones, when he had eluded the British fleet, found plenty of other things to annoy him. He had fortunately transferred many of his trustworthy men from the Serapis to the Alliance, but there were enough of the latter ship's old officers and men to divide the crew into two hostile camps. The discontent at the delay over payment of wages and prize money had deepened. Although the crew was large, fierce in temper, and at first very anxious to look for further prizes, they yet, after the cruise had continued for some time without success, refused to continue unless they were paid. Jones, in order to induce them to embark from Corunna, Spain, where the Alliance had put in for repairs and provisions, promised that he would sail immediately for L'Orient, where they should receive their prize money. As soon as he was again at sea, however, Jones informed his officers that he intended to make a further cruise of twenty days. Fanning, one of the officers, quotes Jones:--

"'And,' says he, with a kind of contemptuous smile, which he was much addicted to, 'Gentlemen, you cannot conceive what an additional honor it would be to all of us, if in cruising a few days we should have the good luck to fall in with an English frigate of our force and carry her in with us.... This would crown our former victories, and our names, in consequence thereof, would be handed down to latest posterity by some faithful historian of our country.'" Fanning adds in a footnote: "Jones had a wonderful notion of his name being handed down to posterity."

When the officers remonstrated on the ground that the men were badly clothed, Jones flew into a rage and ordered them to go to their duty. He found, however, that he could not, with a mutinous crew, continue his course effectively, and reluctantly sailed for L'Orient, where he arrived on February 10, 1780.

VII

SOCIETY IN PARIS

The following year, passed mainly in France, at Paris or L'Orient, was spent by Jones in trying to collect prize money, secure an important command, and in society, where he shone more resplendently than ever. He wrote rather more than his usual large number of letters,--to Franklin, Robert Morris, the Duchesse de Chartres, Arthur Lee, Dr. Bancroft, and many others,--in practically all of them urging some one of his warmly desired projects.

His correspondence with Benjamin Franklin was largely about prize money and the expense of repairing the Alliance, which he undertook to do immediately on his arrival at L'Orient. The frugal doctor attempted to curb, in the matter of expense, the free-handed Jones. The latter had an enormous respect for Franklin, and it is quite likely that he attempted to be economical, but he seems to have been less successful in that direction than in any other. Fanning speaks of the "great and unnecessary expense" involved in Jones's elaborate alterations, and narrates how, at a later period, when Jones was in command of the Ariel, anchored in the harbor at L'Orient, a magnificent spectacle was given on board for the entertainment of the ladies and gentlemen invited by Jones. A mock fight between the Bonhomme Richard and the Serapis, in which vast quantities of ammunition were destroyed, took place. The vessel was finely carpeted and decorated, a regal banquet was served, military music played, and in general "neither cash nor pains," says Fanning, "were spared in order that the scene every way should appear magnificent." Although the hero never seemed to take account of the extreme poverty of the infant republic, it is only fair to add that he spent his own money as freely as any one else's, and that he often served without pay, a fact continually attested to by himself in his letters and journals.

Jones's lack of success, in spite of his energetic attempts in collecting at this time the prize money, about which there were many annoying technicalities, increased the discontent of his crew, and prepared the way for the seizure of the Alliance by the mad Landais. Arthur Lee, formerly one of the American commissioners in Europe, had always been hostile to Jones and unsympathetic with Dr. Franklin and with the revolutionary party generally; to such a degree, indeed, that he was accused, not unjustly, of treachery to the cause of American independence. At the time that the Alliance was at L'Orient, Lee was waiting an opportunity to return to America. Captain Landais, who had been deprived of the command of the Alliance by order of Benjamin Franklin, then the sole representative of the United States in France, and who had likewise been ordered by the doctor to report to the Marine Committee on the charge of infamous conduct, planned to take the Alliance from Jones, and was supported in the attempt by Lee, who contended that neither Franklin nor Jones could deprive Landais of a command given him by Congress. Lee's desire to take the ship from Jones was augmented by the latter's refusal to make room for the ex-commissioner's many effects, including two fine coaches,--space which was much needed for the accommodation of supplies for Washington's army.

Lee and Landais consequently encouraged the discontent among the crew of the Alliance, and one day, June 13, when Jones was on shore at L'Orient, Landais went on board the ship, and, supported by his old officers and by Lee, took possession. When Jones heard of it he was very angry, and acted, according to Fanning, "more like a madman than a conqueror;" but, as usual, his anger was quickly controlled and the definite steps he took in the affair were marked by great moderation. The commandant of the defenses at L'Orient had received orders from the French government to fire on the Alliance, if Landais should attempt to take her out of the harbor; and it seems he would have obeyed and probably sunk the ship, had not Jones himself interfered, and induced him to stay his hand. In a letter to Franklin, Jones said:--

"Your humanity will, I know, justify the part I acted in preventing a scene that would have made me miserable the rest of my life."

Jones was probably not over sorry to lose the Alliance. There was nothing very thrilling in the prospect of carrying supplies to America, and Jones at that time hoped fervently to get hold of the Serapis and other ships and make another warlike cruise against the coast of England. So Landais sailed away with the Alliance, but to his own ruin, as the clear-sighted Jones had predicted in a remarkable letter written a short time before the ship sailed to a mutinous officer on the Alliance. On the voyage Landais's eccentricity caused his friend Lee to put him under arrest, and on the arrival in America, a court of inquiry found him unfit for command, and he never again burdened the service.

Jones was left at L'Orient with the little Ariel, armed with eighteen twelve-pounders and four six-pounders, a ship loaned by the king to Dr. Franklin, and with high hopes, as usual, of more glorious opportunities. But many months intervened before he sailed again,--a time he devoted to business and society. As Jones and his interesting midshipman Fanning separated at the end of this period, the latter's final impressions of his captain may here be given:--

"Captain Jones was a man of about five feet six inches high, well shaped below his head and shoulders, rather round shouldered, with a visage fierce and warlike, and wore the appearance of great application to study, which he was fond of. He was an excellent seaman and knew naval tactics as well as almost any man of his age; but it must be allowed that his character was somewhat tinctured with bad qualities ... his courage and bravery as a naval commander cannot be doubted. His smoothness of tongue and flattery to seamen when he wanted them was persuasive, and in which he excelled any other man I was ever acquainted with.... His pride and vanity while at Paris and Amsterdam was not generally approved of."

Fanning has many anecdotes to relate in regard to Jones's affairs of gallantry of an humble character. Several of Jones's biographers have dwelt upon the gorgeous and aristocratic nature of the hero's amours. Fanning has the solitary distinction of narrating the other side. Jones, indeed, was a good deal of a snob, but he was broadly appreciative of the fair sex. He probably was never deeply in love with anybody, certainly not with any woman of humble character. Of such his appreciation was of a simple and earthly kind.

Although Jones seems to have had no intimate friends, with possibly one exception, there certainly was about him a very strong charm, which made him a favorite in good society. He had a flattering tongue, a ready wit, and a gallant manner. Of Jones's attractions Benjamin Franklin once wrote to a woman:--

"I must confess to your Ladyship that when face to face with him neither man nor, so far as I can learn, woman can for a moment resist the strange magnetism of his presence, the indescribable charm of his manner, a commingling of the most compliant deference with the most perfect self-esteem that I have ever seen in a man; and, above all, the sweetness of his voice and the purity of his language."

Mr. Varnum of Rhode Island, who met Jones only in connection with public business, said of him:--

"I confess there was a magic about his way and manner that I have never before seen. Whatever he said carried conviction with it."

Even more sensible of Jones's charms than the men were the women, who were universally dazzled by the brilliant hero. Miss Edes-Herbert, an Englishwoman living in Paris, writes, among other flattering things about him:--

"Since my last, the famous Paul Jones has dined here and also been present at afternoon teas. If I am in love with him, for love I may die, I am sure, because I have as many rivals as there are ladies."

She records that Jones wrote verses for the ladies extempore, and gives a sample, the sentiments of which are as characteristic of the declamatory century as of the naively vain Jones:--

"Insulted Freedom bled,--I felt her cause,
And drew my sword to vindicate her laws,
From principle, and not from vain applause.
I've done my best; self-interest far apart,
And self-reproach a stranger to my heart;
My zeal still prompts, ambitious to pursue
The foe, ye fair, of liberty and you:
Grateful for praise, spontaneous and unbought,
A generous people's love not meanly sought;
To merit this, and bend the knee to beauty,
Shall be my earliest and latest duty."

Many of Jones's flowery letters to distinguished women are preserved. On one occasion he wrote to a certain countess, informing her that he was composing a secret cipher for a key to their correspondence, and added: "I beseech you to accept the within lock (of hair). I am sorry that it is now eighteen inches shorter than it was three months ago."

The only case in which Jones's affections seem to have reached beyond good nature, common kindness, or gallantry, to the point of love, was that of Aimee de Thelison. She was the natural daughter of Louis XV., and this fact no doubt greatly heightened her interest in the eyes of the aristocratic Jones. She was a person of beauty and charm, and felt deep love for Jones. His love for her was of a cool character, which did not interfere with any of the enterprises taking him so frequently away from Paris. His letters to her are with one exception hardly love letters. The warmest words in that exception are:--

"The last French packet brought no letter to me from the person whose happiness is dearer to me than anything else.... Your silence makes even honors insipid."

It was while Jones was waiting thus gayly to sail for America, that the king of France bestowed upon him, in recognition of his services to the common cause, the Royal Order of Military Merit and a gold-mounted sword of honor, and made him Chevalier of France. It was, as Jones himself frequently wrote, a singular honor, he being the first alien to be made a French chevalier; and Jones prized this favor from a king more than he would the gift of a million dollars. The gold sword also pleased him deeply, and he asked the countess to whom he had sent the lock of hair to keep it for him, lest he lose it. He wrote of this gift:--

"His Majesty ordered a superb sword to be made for me, which I have since received, and it is called much more elegant than that presented to the Marquis de la Fayette."

VIII

PRIVATE AMBITION AND PUBLIC BUSINESS

Benjamin Franklin, knowing the value of the supplies to Washington's army, had implored Jones to embark several months before the little Ariel actually set sail, October 8, 1780. But Jones, hoping for an important command in Europe, and delayed by business in connection with fitting out his ship, and perhaps by the gayeties he was engaged in at Paris, did not show much concern over General Washington's distress. When he finally did sail, he encountered a terrible storm, and it was only the best of seamanship which enabled him to avoid shipwreck. As it was, he was compelled to put back for repairs to L'Orient, where, in a series of letters, he manoeuvred in vain for the loan of the fine ship Terpsichore.

It was not until December 18 that the Ariel got under way again for America. The voyage was uneventful, with the exception of a night battle with a British privateer sloop of inferior force. Jones cleverly concealed his greater strength, and thus lured the Englishman to engage. After a ten-minute fight, the Triumph struck its colors, but, when the Ariel ceased firing, sailed away and escaped, to Jones's exceeding mortification.

"The English captain," he wrote in his journal, "may properly be called a knave, because after he surrendered his ship, begged for and obtained quarter, he basely ran away, contrary to the laws of naval war and the practice of civilized nations."

Paul Jones, when he arrived in Philadelphia, the 18th of February, 1781, was thirty-three years old and had actively served in the United States navy for five years and five months. He never fought another battle under the United States flag; indeed, with the exception of his distressing experiences in Russia, he never fought again under any flag. But to his dying day he did not cease to plan great naval deeds and to hope for greater opportunity to harass the enemy--any enemy. In view of his great ambition and ability, circumstances allowed him to accomplish little. He had only one opportunity, and the way he responded made him famous; but though it brought him honor it did not satisfy him, and the rest of his life was a series of disappointments. His bitterness grew apace, and before he died he was a genuinely pathetic figure.

Soon after Jones's arrival at Philadelphia, the Board of Admiralty required him to give "all the information in his power relative to the detention of the clothing and arms in France intended for Washington's army;" and a series of forty-seven questions, on the subject not only of the delay but also on matters connected generally with his cruises, were submitted to him. He attributed, with probable justice, the instigation of this investigation to his enemy Arthur Lee, whom he desired in consequence to challenge to a duel. He was dissuaded, however, from this step, as well as from the publication of a paper he had written called "Arthur Lee in France," in which he made a circumstantial charge against Lee of "treason, perfidy, and the office of a spy," by some of his distinguished friends, including Morris and Livingston.

Without either the duel or the publication of the paper, Jones was, however, completely vindicated. He answered the questions with clearness and skill, to the complete satisfaction of the board, which recommended that Congress confer on the hero some distinguished mark of approbation. A committee was appointed to question Jones personally, and the impression he made upon it is another proof of the remarkable suavity, plausibility and magnetism of the man. One of the examining committeemen wrote:--

"From his beginning no one thought of disputing him. Toward the end we seldom ventured to ask him any questions. He made himself master of the situation throughout. At the end the committee felt honored by having had the privilege of listening to him."

On the committee's recommendation Congress, which had already on Jones's arrival resolved "that Congress entertain a high sense of the distinguished bravery and military conduct of John Paul Jones, Esq., captain in the navy of the United States, and particularly in his victory over the British frigate Serapis," gave Jones a further vote of thanks, "for the zeal, prudence, and intrepidity with which he has supported the honor of the American flag; for his bold and successful enterprises to redeem from captivity the citizens of these States who had fallen under the power of the enemy, and in general for the good conduct and eminent services by which he has added lustre to his character and to the American arms."

Soon after, the intrepid man to whom were given so many testimonials and so few satisfactory commands received an appreciative letter from General Washington, who, after stating his satisfaction with Jones's explanation of the delay of the supplies, said:--

"Whether our naval affairs have in general been well or ill conducted would be presumptuous in me to determine. Instances of bravery and good conduct in several of our officers have not, however, been wanting. Delicacy forbids me to mention that particular instance which has attracted the admiration of all the world and which has influenced the most illustrious monarch to confer a mark of his favor which can only be obtained by a long and honorable service or by the performance of some brilliant action."

It now seemed to Jones a favorable opportunity to improve his rank, and on May 28 he sent a memorial to Congress reiterating his claims to stand above the captains who had been unjustly put ahead of him. He failed, probably on account of the political influence wielded by the captains; but in the way of compensation he was appointed commander of the new vessel then building at Portsmouth, a seventy-four, called the America, the only ship of the line owned by the States,--a "singular honor," as he expressed it. John Adams, who had at one time been unfriendly to Jones, looking upon him as "a smooth, plausible, and rather capable adventurer," wrote him, _a propos_ of this appointment:--

"The command of the America could not have been more judiciously bestowed, and it is with impatience that I wish her at sea, where she will do honor to her name."

Jones had hoped to join Washington's army, then campaigning against Cornwallis, as a volunteer, but he cheerfully gave up this exciting prospect in order to prepare the America for sea,--"the most lingering and disagreeable task," he wrote, "he had been charged with during the whole of the war." He did his job with his usual efficiency, however, and with his usual extravagance, which he called simplicity. He wrote in his journal: "The plan which Captain Jones projected for the sculpture expressed dignity and simplicity. The head was a female figure crowned with laurels. The right arm was raised, with the forefinger pointing to heaven.... On the left arm was a buckler, with a blue ground and thirteen silver stars. The legs and feet were covered here and there with wreaths of smoke, to represent the dangers and difficulties of war. On the stern, under the windows of the great cabin, appeared two large figures in bas-relief, representing Tyranny and Oppression, bound and biting the ground, with the cap of Liberty on a pole above their heads. On the back part of the starboard quarter was a large Neptune; and on the back part of the larboard quarter gallery, a large Mars."

As a reward for all this industry and aesthetic effort Jones had another disappointment; for in August, 1782, the French seventy-four gunship, the Magnifique, was wrecked at the entrance to Boston harbor, and Congress gave the America to the king of France.

With undaunted energy Jones now attempted to get hold of the South Carolina, originally called the Indien, which he had formerly, when he crossed the ocean in the Ranger, failed to secure. She was now, under the new name, in the service of the States, and Robert Morris tried to turn her over to Jones, that he might again "harass the enemy." But the plan failed, and Jones remained without a command. Unable to rest, although his health had for some time been failing, he now requested and obtained consent "to embark as a volunteer in pursuit of military marine knowledge with the Marquis de Vaudreuil, in order to enable him the better to serve his country when America should increase her navy." He went off, accordingly, on the cruise with the French fleet; but the expedition, during the course of which peace was declared, was uneventful, and Jones, who had had an attack of fever, spent the summer of 1783 quietly in the town of Bethlehem. In the following November, however, he renewed his activity, and on his application was appointed by Congress agent to collect all moneys due from the sale of the prizes taken in European waters by vessels under his command.

Although money was subordinate, in Jones's mind, to glory and the opportunity for action, he was an excellent business man. His commercial transactions had been successful enough to enable him to pay with his own resources the crews of the Alfred and Providence, so that when he set sail in the Ranger he had advanced L1500 to the United States. After the close of the war, at a period of comparative inactivity, he began a profitable trade in illuminating oils, and in his character as prize money agent he continued to show his business dexterity. He began a long campaign of a year of most pertinacious and vigorous dunning for money due the United States, himself, and the officers and sailors under his command. He wrote innumerable letters to Franklin, to de Castries, the new Minister of Marine, to de Vergennes, Minister of Foreign Affairs; to many others, and prepared for the king a careful account of his cruises, in order to show that prize money was due. In arguing for all that he could get he showed great acuteness, legal sense, and, beyond everything, invincible determination. He also again demonstrated his happy talent for abuse of those who stood in his way. He finally secured the allowance of his claims; and the settlements, which began in January, 1784, were completed, as far as France was concerned, in July, 1785. He was paid 181,000 livres, which he turned over, less deductions for expenses and his own share of the prize money, to Thomas Jefferson, then minister to France, who approved the account. Jones charged for his ordinary expenses, however, the sum of 48,000 livres and his share of prize money was 13,000 livres, a total of 61,000 livres, a generous allowance. One of the free-handed man's biographers, A. S. MacKenzie, pointed out that Jones "charged his shipmates for his expenses, during less than two years, more than General Washington did the people of the United States throughout the Revolutionary War."

The next public business of Jones was to attempt to collect indemnity from the Danish government for the delivery to England of the prizes sent by the mad Landais, during Jones's most famous cruise, to Bergen, Denmark. He delayed his trip to Copenhagen, however, for a number of reasons. At this time he was carrying on several private business enterprises of importance, was occupied with society in London and Paris, and was eagerly desirous of being sent by the French government against the Dey of Algiers, who held in bondage many Christians. At various times during his career Jones showed a keen sense of the wrongs inflicted on Americans by the Barbary pirates in search of tribute, and in his letters to Jefferson and others he often suggested plans for their extermination. For de Vergennes and de Castries he prepared a memorandum urging the necessity of a movement against the pirates, and ably pointing out the good that would accrue therefrom to the world, and particularly to France, to which nation he attributed future dominion in North Africa, provided action was taken in time to forestall Great Britain.

"The knowledge of the race persuades me," he wrote, "that England will soon invade the Mediterranean--doubtless as soon as she recovers from the exhaustion of the late war."

The United States, however, were after the war lacking so completely in resources that a war with the pirates was impossible, and France was on the brink of her great Revolution, and had more important things to consider. So Jones died before the expedition for which he had so ardently hoped, and which brought so much honor, as he had predicted, to the man who commanded it--Commodore Dale, once Jones's first lieutenant on the Bonhomme Richard--was dispatched.

Jones finally set off for Copenhagen to collect the indemnity from the Danish government; but hearing of a crisis in an important business matter in which he was interested, he made, before arriving at his destination, a flying trip to America. While there, he was awarded a gold medal by Congress, and said in his journal that such a medal had been given to only six officers.

"To General Washington, for the capture of Boston; General Gates, for the capture of Burgoyne's army; General Wayne, for the taking of Rocky Point;... General Morgan, for having defeated and destroyed a detachment of 1100 officers and soldiers of the best troops of England, with 900 militia merely; General Greene, for having scored a decisive victory on the enemy at Euta Spring.... But all these medals, although well merited, were given in moments of enthusiasm. I had the unique satisfaction of receiving the same honor, by the unanimous voice of the United States assembled in Congress, the sixteenth October, 1787, in memory of the services which I rendered eight years earlier."

It was not until January, 1788, that Paul Jones arrived at Copenhagen, where, during his short stay, he was magnificently entertained by the court. The negotiations for the indemnity, which he began almost immediately, were abruptly terminated by the transfer of the matter for settlement to Paris. Jones, on the day he agreed to suspend the negotiations, received from the Danish government a patent for a pension of 1500 crowns a year, "for the respect he had shown the Danish flag while he commanded in the European seas." Jones kept this transaction, for which he possibly felt ashamed, to himself, until several years afterwards, when, writing to Jefferson, he said: "I have felt myself in an embarrassing situation, with regard to the king's patent, and I have not yet made use of it, though three years have elapsed since I received it."

On Jones's return to Paris from America, previous to his Copenhagen trip, the Russian ambassador to France, Baron Simolin, had made, through Mr. Jefferson, a proposition looking to the appointment of the conqueror of the Serapis to a position in the navy of Russia, then about to war with the Turks. Simolin wrote Catherine II. of Russia that, "with the chief command of the fleet and _carte blanche_ he would undertake that in a year Paul Jones would make Constantinople tremble." This exciting possibility was no doubt constantly in Jones's mind while he was at Copenhagen, and probably increased his willingness to dismiss the indemnity negotiations. He began immediately to manoeuvre for the highest command possible. He demurred to the rank of captain-commandant, equal to that of major-general in the army, and maintained that nothing less than rear-admiral was fitting. He laid the account of all his deeds and honors before the dazzled Russian minister at Copenhagen, and said: "The unbounded admiration and profound respect which I have long felt for the glorious character of her Imperial Majesty, forbids the idea that a sovereign so magnanimous should sanction any arrangement that may give pain at the outset to the man she deigns to honor with her notice, and who wishes to devote himself entirely to her service." In order to be in a better position for extorting honors from the empress, Jones wrote Jefferson suggesting that Congress bestow upon him the rank of rear-admiral; and took occasion to assert, on the eve of taking service under a despot, the undying character of his love for America.

"I am not forsaking," he wrote, "the country that has had so many distinguished and difficult proofs of my affection; and can never renounce the glorious title of _a citizen of the United States_" [Italics are Jones's].