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 inScarborough 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 106wounded 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 bythe 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."
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 remainfor 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 anable 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 hisstatus 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 becompelled 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 withindignation: "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, onDecember 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'ssang-froidin 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, wherethe 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 togo 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.
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 likelythat 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 Franklinnor 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 notJones 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-poundersand 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 forthe ladies extempore, and gives a sample, the sentiments of which are as characteristic of the declamatory century as of the naïvely 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 pursueThe 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."
"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 pursueThe 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."
"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 Aimée de Thelison. She wasthe 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 swordalso 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."
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 manœuvred 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 greateropportunity 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 highsense 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,à proposof this appointment:—
"The command of the America could nothave 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 andOppression, 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 æsthetic 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 ofmilitary 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 £1500 to the United States. After the close of the war, at a period of comparative inactivity, he began a profitabletrade 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 approvedthe 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 keensense 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 hadpredicted, 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 uniquesatisfaction 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 andcarte blanchehe 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 manœuvre 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 theglorious 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 ofa citizen of the United States" [Italics are Jones's].
Jones left Copenhagen on his ill-fated Russian mission, April 11, and made a flying and perilous trip to St. Petersburg. He crossed the ice-blocked Baltic in a small boat, compelled, at the muzzle of his pistols, the unwilling boatmen to proceed, and on hisarrival at his destination, on April 23, was presented to the empress, who conferred upon him the coveted rank of rear-admiral, to the intense irritation of many of the English officers in the service of Russia, who looked upon Jones as a red-handed pirate. In June Catherine wrote to her favorite at the time: "I am sorry that all the officers are raging about Paul Jones. I hope fervently that they will cease their mad complaints, for he is necessary to us." In 1792, long after the war in which Jones had played a part, Catherine said, with a different accent: "Ce Paul Jones était une bien mauvaise tête." Certainly Jones's diplomacy, which was of a direct character, was not equal to his present situation, unfamiliar to him, and for success demanding conduct tortuous and insincere to an Oriental degree. Jones, in comparison with his associates in Russia, was remarkably truthful,—a trait which involved him in humiliating difficulties, and which was a source of irritation to the empress and to all concerned.
Paul Jones left St. Petersburg on May 7, to take command of the Russian squadron in the Black Sea. Before his departure he requested of the empress "never to be condemned unheard." This, one of the most modest demands Jones ever made, was, as the sequel will show, denied him. He arrived on the 19th at St. Elizabeth, the headquarters of Prince Potemkin, the former favorite of the empress and the commander in chief of the war against the Turks. Potemkin, under whose orders Jones stood, was of a thoroughly despotic type. As Potemkin was a prince, Jones was at first disposed to flatter him extravagantly, but the commodore was by nature averse to being dictated to, particularly by those whom he deemed his inferiors, and it was not long before they began to quarrel.
Paul Jones was put in command of the squadron which was to oppose the fleet of the Capitan Pacha, and thus help the Russian army to take Oczakow, a town lying at the junction of the Bog with the Knieper, which had been strongly fortified by the Turks. Unfortunately, Jones was not only subject to the orders of Prince Potemkin, but the immediate command of the fleet was divided between him and a thoroughly incompetent and arrogant adventurer, the Prince of Nassau. Jones commanded the heavier ships, forming the squadron, while Nassau was in charge of a considerable force of Russian gunboats and barges, composing what was called the flotilla. Between Jones and Nassau existed extreme jealousy. In fact, the only officer in high position with whom Jones stood on an amicable footing was the distinguished General Suwarrow. Early in the campaign the Russian had advised Jones to allow Potemkin to take the credit of any success that might result, and to hold his tongue,—two things which Jones, unfortunately, was quite incapable of doing.
It is impossible to enter into the details of this campaign, but enough may be given to explain the difficulties which Jones encountered. After some unimportant engagements between the two fleets, an action of importance occurred which disclosed the deep differences between Jones and his Russian allies. The Capitan Pacha attempted to attack the Russian fleet, but one of his ships ran aground, and the others anchored. Jones saw his opportunity and ordered a general attack on the confused Turkish fleet, which cut anchor and fled, with Jones in pursuit. The Wolodimer, Jones's flagship, steered straight for the Capitan Pacha's ship, which ran aground; whereupon one of Jones's officers, without orders, dropped the Wolodimer's anchor. In the mean time the flotilla, under Nassau, lagged behind, and Jones, in order to offset the operations of the Turkish flotilla, which had already destroyed one of the Russian frigates, left his anchored flagship to go in search of Nassau, whom he found with his flotilla occupied in firing on two Turkish ships which were aground andwere, moreover, under the guns of the Russian ships, and might justly be regarded as prizes. Nassau persisted in this useless undertaking until the enemy's vessels had been burned and the crews had perished in the flames. When Jones found he was unable to withdraw the prince from this bloody and unprofitable proceeding, he ordered an attack, with a part of Nassau's ships, upon the Turkish flotilla, which was soon driven off.
During the night the Capitan Pacha attempted to pass out from the Liman, with the remains of his squadron; but nine of his ships grounded, and, being thus brought within range of the Russian fort on the extreme point of Kinburn, were fired upon and were practically at the mercy of the Russians. Nevertheless, the Prince of Nassau advanced in the morning with his flotilla, and, to Jones's extreme rage, burned the grounded Turkish ships, three thousand Turks who were practically prisoners perishing in the flames.
On July 1 Nassau, with his flotilla,advanced against the flotilla of the Turks, but did not seem anxious to go within grapeshot; and Jones, with his heavier ships, went to capture five Turkish galleys lying under the cover of the guns of the Turkish battery and flotilla. Two of these galleys were captured and the others destroyed. Nassau and Alexiano directed their belligerent efforts against the captured galleys, one of which was—with all the slaves on board,—ruthlessly burned. Other Turkish ships were likewise needlessly destroyed, a mode of warfare quite at variance with the traditions of Jones. He expressed his consequent disgust in terms more genuine than diplomatic.
As a reward of his idiotic actions, on the basis of an inflated and dishonest report of the battle which was sent to the empress, Nassau received a valuable estate, the military order of St. George, and authority to hoist the flag of rear-admiral; other officers were also substantially rewarded; while all that was given to Jones, whose honest but unflattering report had been rejected byPotemkin, was the order of St. Anne. It is easy to imagine Jones's bitterness. He says in his journal: "If he (Nassau) has received the rank of vice-admiral, I will say in the face of the universe that he is unworthy of it."
Referring to the cowardice of his associates who, in order to escape, he says, provided their boats with smallchaloupes, Jones writes:—
"For myself I took no precautions. I saw that I must conquer or die."
Jones's bitterness, partly justified by the facts, seems at this time to have reached almost the point of madness, and the quarrel between him and his associates increased in virulence. In the course of the unimportant operations following the defeat of the Turks, during which the squadron maintained a strict blockade of Oczakow, Jones was sent on a number of trivial enterprises by Potemkin, whose language was carefully chosen to irritate the fiery Scotchman. On one occasion he commanded Jones "to receive him (the Capitan Pacha) courageously, and drivehim back. I require that this be done without loss of time; if not, you will be made answerable for every neglect." In reply, Jones complained of the injustice done his officers. Shortly afterwards Jones doubted the wisdom of one of Potemkin's orders, and wrote: "Every man is master of his opinion, and this is mine." When Potemkin again wrote Jones "to defend himself courageously," the latter's annotation was: "It will be hard to believe that Prince Potemkin addressed such words to Paul Jones." To the prince he wrote in terms alternately flattering and complaining:—
"Your Highness has so good a heart that you will excuse the hastiness of expression which escaped me. I am anxious to continue in the service."
But the despotic Potemkin had made up his mind that he could not get along with Paul Jones, and with an indirectness characteristic of him, secured an order for the latter for service "in the northern seas." This was practically a dismissal for Jones, who returned in virtual disgrace to St. Petersburg, wherehe hoped to be put in command of the Baltic fleet. Catherine, however, was now sincerely anxious to get rid of Jones, but on account of his powerful friends in France did not dare to do so openly. She had "condemned him unheard," and repeated her injustice in a still more pointed way; for in March, 1789, while Jones was waiting for the command which never came, he was falsely accused of an atrocious crime and forbidden to approach the palace of the empress, being again "condemned unheard." Had it not been for the French ambassador, de Ségur, who had a strong influence on Catherine, the crime might always have been attributed to Paul Jones. De Ségur, however, proved to Catherine that Jones was the victim of a plot, and she was forced to recall the unfortunate man to court. Soon afterwards Jones, who had for a long time been greatly suffering in health, was given two years' leave of absence.
Paul Jones's experience in Russia was the most unfortunate part of an unfortunate career. His services to that country, whichwere considerable, were never recognized. His report of the Liman campaign had been rejected, and he had been unjustly deposed from the actual command and an empty promise substituted. His letters had been systematically intercepted, and he was a victim, not only of a detestable plot involving his moral character, but of many other charges equally virulent and untrue.
It was grotesquely reported, for instance, that he had murdered his nephew, who in reality did not exist. The leave of absence, moreover, must have been to a man of his spirit a severe blow.
At the close of the journal of the Liman campaign Jones's bitterness is pathetically expressed in inflated self-praise, called out by the desire to confute the calumnies of his enemies. "Every one to whom I have the honor to be known," he wrote, "is aware that I am the least selfish of mankind.... This is known to the whole American people.... Have I not given proofs sufficiently striking that I have a heart the most sensitive, a soul the most elevated?... I amthe only man in the world that possesses a sword given by the king of France ... but what completes my happiness is the esteem and friendship of the most virtuous of men, whose fame will be immortal; and that a Washington, a Franklin, a D'Estaing, a La Fayette, think the bust of Paul Jones worthy of being placed side by side with their own.... Briefly, I am satisfied with myself."
On August 18, 1789, Paul Jones left St. Petersburg, never to return, and never again to fight a battle. He was only forty-two years old, but although his ambition was as intense as ever, his health had through unremitting exertions and exposure become undermined. For many years the active man had not known what it was to sleep four hours at a time, and now his left lung was badly affected, and he had only a few years more to live. After an extended tour, devoted mainly to business and society,—during the course of which he met Kosciusko at Warsaw, visited, among other cities, Vienna, Munich, Strassburg, and London,—Jones reached Paris, where Aimée de Thelison and his true home were, on May 30, 1790. He resigned from his position in theRussian navy, and remained most of the time until his death in the French capital.
The great French Revolution had taken place; and Paul Jones occupied the position, unusual for him, of a passive spectator of great events. Acquainted with men of all parties, with Bertrand Barère, Carnot, Robespierre, and Danton, as well as with the more conservative men with whom his own past had led him to sympathize,—Lafayette, Mirabeau, and Malesherbes,—Jones's last days were not lacking in picturesque opportunity for observation. He felt great sympathy for the king, with whom he had been acquainted, and who had bestowed upon him the title of chevalier and the gold sword. For Mirabeau, as for other really great men Jones knew,—Franklin, Washington, and Suwarrow,—he had extreme admiration, and on the occasion of the famous Frenchman's death wrote: "I have never seen or read of a man capable of such mastery over the passions and the follies of such a mob. There is no one to take the place of Mirabeau." Of the mob Jones wrote witharistocratic hatred: "There have been many moments when my heart turned to stone towards those who call themselves 'the people' in France. More than once have I harbored the wish that I might be intrusted by Lafayette with the command of the Palace, withcarte blancheto defend the constitution; and that I might have once more with me, if only for one day, my old crews of the Ranger, the Richard, and the Alliance! I surely would have made the thirty cannon of the courtyard teach to that mad rabble the lesson that grapeshot has its uses in struggles for the rights of man!"
Jones always had much to say on the organization of navies and the principles of naval warfare. About this time he wrote a letter to Admiral Kersaint, of the French navy, in which he criticised fearlessly and trenchantly the naval tactics of the French. Their policy, he explained, was to "neutralize the power of their adversaries, if possible, by grand manœuvres rather than to destroy it by grand attack;" and objecting to thispolicy, the dashing Jones, who always desired to "get alongside the enemy," wrote: "Their (the French) combinations have been superb; but as I look at them, they have not been harmful enough; they have not been calculated to do as much capturing or sinking of ships, and as much crippling or killing of seamen, as true and lasting success in naval warfare seems to me to demand.... Should France thus honor me [with a command] it must be with the unqualified understanding that I am not to be restricted by the traditions of her naval tactics; but with full consent that I may, on suitable occasion, to be decreed by my judgment on the spot, try conclusions with her foes to the bitter end or to death, at shorter range and at closer quarters than have hitherto been sanctioned by her tactical authorities."
Paul Jones, although in these last years he was forced, more than was agreeable to him, to play the rôle of an intelligent commentator, remained a man of action to the end. He sought, this time in vain, to extract from the French government wagesstill due the crew of the old Bonhomme Richard. His failure brought out an unusually bitter letter, in which he again recounted his services and the wrongs done him by the various ministers of marine. As he grew older and more disappointed the deeds he had done seemed mountain high to him. "My fortitude and self-denial alone dragged Holland into the war, a service of the greatest importance to this nation; for without that great event, no calculation can ascertain when the war would have ended.... Would you suppose that I was driven out of the Texel in a single frigate belonging to the United States, in the face of forty-two English ships and vessels posted to cut off my retreat?"
With equal energy the failing commodore never ceased to hope and strive for an important command. To head an expedition against the Barbary pirates had long been with him a favorite scheme, and now he looked forward eagerly to a position in the French navy.
By the irony of fate a letter came from Mr. Jefferson announcing Jones'sappointment as commissioner for treating with the Dey and government of Algiers. But it was too late, for before the letter arrived in Paris Paul Jones was dead. On July 11, 1792, a week before he died, he had attended a session of the French Assembly and had made a felicitous speech. He expressed his love for America, for France, and for the cause of liberty, and regretted his failing health as interfering with his activity in their service. He closed with the pathetic words:—
"But ill as I am, there is yet something left of the man—not the admiral, not the chevalier—but the plain, simple man whom it delights me to hear you call 'Paul Jones,' without any rank but that of fellowship, and without any title but that of comrade. So now I say to you that whatever is left of that man, be it never so faint or feeble, will be laid, if necessary, upon the altar of French Liberty as cheerfully as a child lies down to pleasant dreams! My friends, I would love to pursue this theme, but, as you see, my voice is failing and my lower limbsbecome swollen when I stand up too long. At any rate I have said enough. I am now ready to act whenever and wheresoever bidden by the voice of France."
Jones's cough and the swelling in his legs continued; a few days later jaundice and dropsy set in, and it was clear to his friends that the end was near. Aimée de Thelison, Gouverneur Morris, and some of the distinguished revolutionists were about him during the last few days of his life. On the afternoon of July 18, 1792, his will was witnessed, and about seven o'clock in the evening he was found in his room, lying with his clothes on, face down across the middle of the bed, dead.
The next day the National Assembly passed a resolution decreeing "that twelve of its members shall assist at the funeral of a man who has so well served the cause of liberty."
True or not, the words attributed to Napoleon after Trafalgar, in 1805, are no more than justice to Paul Jones.
"How old," Napoleon asked, "was Paul Jones when he died?"
On being told that Jones was forty-five years old at the time of his death, Napoleon said:—
"Then he did not fulfill his destiny. Had he lived to this time, France might have had an admiral."
Paul Jones has been called by his friends patriot, and by his enemies pirate. In reality he was neither. He was not one of those deeply ethical natures that subordinate personal glory and success to the common good. As an American he cannot be ranked with his great contemporaries, for his patriotism consisted merely in being fair and devoted to the side he had for the time espoused rather than in quiet work as a citizen after the spectacular opportunity had passed. He was ready to serve wherever he saw the best chance for himself, whether it was with the United States, Russia, or France. In no unworthy sense of the word, however, was he an adventurer. The deepest thing in his soul, the love of glory, rendered him incapable at once of meanness and of true patriotism. In search for fame he gave up family,friends, and religion. In these relations of life he would have been and was, as far as he went, tolerant and kind; but in them he was not interested. Love of glory made him a lonely figure. It rendered him aposeur, vain and snobbish, but it also spurred him on to contend, with phenomenal energy, against almost innumerable difficulties.
As far as his deeds are concerned, Paul Jones appears in the popular consciousness as he really was,—a bolt of effectiveness, a desperate, successful fighter, a sea captain whose habit was to appear unexpectedly to confound his enemies, and then to disappear, no one knew where, only to reappear with telling effect. He has been the hero of the novelists, who, expressing the popular idea, have pictured him with essential truth. A popular hero, indeed, he was, and will remain so, justly, in the memory of men.