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IT was Fortune's whim to
make a pet of Paul Jones. To please him she created opportunities for
which others had waited in vain. One morning he received word that two
French frigates had dropped anchor in Hampton Roads. With the
hospitality of the true sailor, lie loaded his sloop with the best the
plantation afforded, and set sail to welcome the stranger. The two
frigates were under the command of Captain de Kersaint, one of the
ablest officers in the French navy, who afterwards became an admiral.
The second in command was no less a personage than the Duc de Chartres,
eldest son of the Duc d'Orléans, and later Iga1itt of the Revolution,
who had been sent to America on a "Cruise of Instruction," to fit him
for the hereditary post of Lord High Admiral of France, in which he was
to succeed his father-in-law, the Duc de Bourbon Penthièvre. The Duc de
Chartres, born in 1747, the same year as Paul Jones, was a young man of
affable disposition and pronounced democratic leanings; and it was to
break up these ideas, and take him beyond the reach of the infamous
companions he affected, that he was sent to sea. It neither corrected
the one nor the other; for his later exploits in Paris would fill a
volume of scandal too racy for print.
His wife, Marie Adelaide
de Bourbon Penthièvre, granddaughter of a former high admiral—perhaps
the most distinguished France has known—the Comte de Toulouse, a natural
son of Louis XIV and Mme. de Montespan, was known far and wide for her
benevolence and charities. Her well-known admiration for her sailor
ancestor, who had distinguished himself when commanding the French fleet
in the great battle off Malaga in 1704, made her from the first display
a more than common interest in the projects of the fascinating sailor
who crossed her path. The charming Duchesse de Chartres inherited the
wit and beauty of Louis's dashing favourite, but there the resemblance
ended, for she was a sweet and virtuous woman. She employed the
influence and tact of which she was mistress to help the American cause,
giving liberally of her enormous fortune, a generosity always lauded as
the kindness of her husband.
Going aboard the ship, Jones found himself
cordially welcomed, and lost no time putting the cargo of the sloop at
the disposal of the French officers. It was to be a strong factor in the
cause he championed, that de Chartres took one of his violent fancies to
the adventurous Scotchman; for the latter made no secret that he desired
most minute information as to the construction of the frigate La
Terpsichore. With royal prerogative the Due furnished him with complete
data. He had deck plans and sail plans made by the carpenter. The
construction of the hull, batteries, spars and rigging, nothing was too
trifling for Jones to note; and it is a fact that the American frigate
Alliance, built some time later, followed closely the same general lines
and mounted the same battery, twenty-eight long twelve-pounders on the
gun deck, and ten long nines above.
During the interview Kersaint, who was more
conservative—and had more to lose—than his prince, was ill at ease; for
he had received news of the battle of Lexington, and it was French
policy to remain neutral. This put him under a certain constraint for
the couple of days Jones was their guest. Though the prince was eager to
accept the proffered invitation and visit the plantation near Urbana, de
Kersaint, as senior officer, was obliged to use his authority and state
the case freely, much to the chagrin of de Chartres, who wished to see
for himself the much advertised charms of the colonial belles. La
Terpsiclzore weighed anchor and sailed for Corunna, where the señoritas
soon consoled the volatile Duc.
It was of inestimable advantage to Jones to
have had the opportunity of inspecting at such close range one of the
best and most modern ships of the French navy; and a desire to be at sea
once more obsessed him to such an extent, that he could hardly wait the
slow train leading to the great culmination desired. To be prepared for
whatever contingency might arise he arranged his affairs, appointing
"the Frazier Bros.," of Port Royal, trustees of his estate, ad interim,
So there would be no confusion if his absence was prolonged.
The Continental Congress met in second
session on May 10, 1775. The Provisional Marine or Naval Committee
consisted of the chairman, Robert Morris, Philip Livingstone, Benjamin
Harrison, John Hancock, Joseph Hewes, and Nicholas Van Dyke, members. On
the motion of this Committee, Mr. Hewes authorised the chairman to
invite "John Paul Jones, esquire, gent. of Virginia, Master Mariner, to
lay before the Committee such information and advice as may seem to him
useful in assisting the said Committee to discharge its labours."
It took much discussion, much scratching of
quills on stiff paper, to frame the rules and regulations for the new
navy. An elementary, plucky little fleet, which dared defy the finest
navy in the world, with its reputation of unbroken supremacy over the
seas, manned by tried sailors, commanded by the smartest officers
afloat. But, after all, the new and the old were of the same blood.
There was the same dauntless spirit in the heart of the man who was its
founder as led Drake and Raleigh on their path over the trackless ocean.
Then, as now, the pay of officers was
unpretentious. On vessels of twenty guns the captain received sixty
dollars (£12) per calendar month. This was in 1776. The lieutenant
thirty dollars (£6), and the master the same sum. The mate received
three pounds a month, as did the gunner, boatswain, surgeon's mate and
captain's clerk. The surgeon got twenty-five dollars (£5) the chaplain
twenty, the cooper, quartermaster, coxswain, armourer, and that most
important individual, the cook, received nine dollars (£1 16s.) per
month. The sail-maker, steward and master-at-arms, ten dollars. The
"Yeoman of the powder-room" had nine dollars and a half, and the seaman
was last in the scale, at eight. On ships of "ten to twenty guns," the
pay ran a little less.
The uniforms were chiefly red and blue, the
captain being gay in "blue cloth with red lappels, slashed cuff,
stand-up collor, flat yellow buttons, blue britches, red waistcoat with
narrow lace." The lieutenants had "blue britches, and a round cuff,
faced," and they lacked the lace which adorned the commanding waistcoat.
The masters had no "red lappels" or "stand-up collor," their cuffs were
not faced; they had "blue britches and red waistcoats," but the
midshipmen were most gorgeous in "blue lappelled coat, a round cuff,
faced with red, stand-up collor, with red at the button and button hole,
blue britches and red waistcoat."
It seems a strange oversight that with all
this minuteness there is no mention made of any sort of hat or cap. It
was probably understood that they wore the prevalent black
three-cornered hat. The dress of the seamen is not specified, indeed it
was not until some years after that a regular dress was adopted for
sailors in the English navy, and this, of course, was the model on which
the venture of the United States was founded. It is noticeable that
there is no mention of gold lace, or any tinsel, even brass buttons; and
the choice of side-arms was left entirely to the discretion of the
wearer. In the case of the marine officers, the orders are a little more
detailed, for they were to wear: "A green coat faced with white, round
cuff, slashed sleeves, and pockets, with buttons round the cuff, silver
epaulett on the right shoulder, skirts turned back, with buttons to suit
the facings."
"White waistcoat and britches edged with green, black gaiters, green
shirts for the men, if they can be procured." This last remark calls to
mind the immense difficulty experienced in finding sufficient clothing,
much less proper uniforms, for the "Ragged Continentals" who served
under Washington's standard. It is quite likely the gallant marines put
to sea in shirts of less aesthetic hue than those specified—if indeed
they were blessed with any shirts at all!
Unquestionably the colour of their shirts
interested the crews much less than the regulations in regard to prize
money. On November 15, 1776, Congress "resolved that a bounty of twenty
dollars be paid to the commanders, officers and men of such Continental
ships or vessels of war as shall make a prize of any British ships or
vessels of war, for every cannon mounted on board such a prize at the
time of such capture; and eight dollars per head for every man then on
board and belonging to such prize." All of which added zest to the
gentle pastime of war.
In addition to this, General Washington
"approved" the following distribution of the prize: "That the captain or
commander should receive six shares, the first lieutenant five, the
second lieutenant and the surgeon four, the master three, steward two,
mate, gunner, gunner's mate, boatswain and sergeant, one and one-half
shares, the private one." The cook as omitted, but undoubtedly ranked
with the ordinary seaman when the hour of distribution struck.
Living must have been extremely cheap, for
the commanders of "Continental vessels of ten guns and upwards," were
allowed the extravagant sum of "five and one-third dollars (£1 1s. 6½d.)
per week for subsistance," while in domestic or foreign ports. At sea,
they received "two dollars and two-thirds per week for cabin expenses."
The Marine Committee was "empowered to allow such cabin furniture for
continental vessels of war as they shall judge proper." It cannot even
be hinted that the officers were encouraged to live in a wantonly
extravagant fashion, or is it possible they should entertain at all, if
wines were to figure on the table?
What an undertaking, to make a navy out of
whole cloth, for, at the outbreak of hostilities, the Continental
government owned one water-tight craft! What a risk, to man those ships,
collected haphazard, with sailors from the ends of the earth; officer
them with men who accepted the positions from the hope of the prizes
they should take ! There was little talk of patriotism, the Continental
government had no money to spend and offered nothing in comparison to
the chances aboard privateers.
"It is distressing to the last degree," Jones wrote, "to contemplate the
state and establishment of our navy. The common class of mankind are
actuated by no nobler principle than that of self-interest. This, and
this only, determines all adventures in privateers—the owners, as well
as those they employ; and while this is the case, unless the private
emolument of individuals in our navy is made superior to that in
privateers, it never can become respectable it never will become
formidable; and without a respectable navy, alas, America! In the
present critical condition of human affairs, wisdom can suggest no more
than one infallible expedient—enlist the seamen during pleasure, and
give them all the prizes. What is the paltry emolument of two-thirds of
prizes to the finances of this vast continent? If so poor a resource is
essential to its independence, in sober sadness we are involved in a
woeful predicament, and our ruin is fast approaching.
"The situation of America is new in the
annals of mankind: her affairs cry haste! and speed must answer them.
Trifles, therefore, ought to be wholly disregarded, as being in the old
vulgar proverb, 'penny wise and pound foolish,'" he continues, pleading
the necessities of a liberal policy.
If our enemies, with the best established
and most formidable navy in the universe, have found it expedient to
assign all prizes to the captors, how much more is such policy essential
to our infant fleet? But I need no argument to convince you of the
necessity of making the emoluments of our navy equal, if not superior,
to theirs." There
was good common-sense in this logical appeal which he laid before
Congress. He was not actuated by a love of gain; he was in the struggle
from motives of sound conviction that it was a righteous cause, and
though only a young man of twenty-eight, he was one of the most
experienced sailors of his day. "He knew there could be no navy unless
it was founded on a proper system of subordination," and rigid
discipline, which, "however unpleasant to the turbulent, fierce spirit
of republicans, is especially indispensable in the sea service."
How soundly correct was his judgment is
often shown in later life, when the lack of proper subordination ruined
plans which he had brought to the pitch of perfection—to have them fall
like card houses at a puff of unexpected wind.
The creation of a navy in a country where
precedent was unknown, with no ancient custom or usage to refer to, was
a labour of Hercules. To all intents and purposes an American, the fact
remains that Paul was a Scotchman. His enthusiastic soul was wholly for
the cause of liberty in his new country, but the men who envied him and
wanted his position never let him forget he was an alien. This was, in
truth, most absurd, for what were they themselves? what had they been,
until a few months ago? Paul Jones had served under different masters,
till he was a far more competent officer than many of those in the
established navies of Europe, where influence and patronage often
officered vessels with men of long lineage and short experience. Jones
differed from many of the patriots, in that he cared nothing for money.
He was one of those rare spirits left from the golden age, who
infinitely preferred leading a forlorn hope to being paid for the same.
He loved fame and rank and glory, but, to the money part, he had a
sublime, un-Scotch lack of appreciation, delightful to the romanticist.
He displayed none of the Lowland peasant thrift of his supposed father.
On one or two occasions he defrayed the expenses of expeditions out of
his own slender resources, when money could not be squeezed out of the
prudent gentlemen who fostered the glories of American independence.
Of course, all these arrangements were not
the work of a day, for men weighed carefully the consequences involved
by cutting adrift from the home government, unpopular as it was, and, on
the other hand, a large percentage of the colonists sided with King
George and his ministers. It was on the day of October 10, 1776, three
months after the Declaration of Independence, that Jones received his
formal commission of "Captain in the Navy of the United States of North
America." In the
Journal of Congress, December 22, 1775, the name of John Paul Jones
heads the list of first lieutenants. This shows the strong political
influence against which the Scotchman always had to contend, when a man
with more practical experience of seamanship than the "Commander of the
Fleet" and all his officers combined, was relegated to a secondary place
at this critical moment in the organisation of the navy. Of course he
came from Virginia, and this state being supreme in military matters,
had been obliged to yield to the north, which demanded full control of
the navy, and many were the acrimonious disputes between Jones's friend
Joseph Hewes, and John Adams, who each had his candidates to advance.
Lieutenant Jones's first historical action
was that of "hoisting the flag of independent America" on board the
Alfred "with his own hands, the first time it had ever been displayed,"
December 3, 1775. Captain Saltonstall commanded the Alfred, which lay at
Philadelphia, but had not arrived to assume his duties, and Jones was
ordered by John Hancock and other members of the Congress to break the
pennant on board of the Al/red. This was not the well-known stars and
stripes, but the "Pine Tree and Rattlesnake Flag," with the motto,
"Don't Tread on Me!" which Jones always hated, and rejoiced when the
other one was formally adopted by Congress, by a strange coincidence, on
the same day that he was commissioned captain. The Alfred, on which this
ceremony was enacted, was formerly known as the Black Prince, built at
Maryport in Cumberland in 1766, for the East India trade, and was
undoubtedly the best ship in the newly formed navy.
The nucleus of that navy for which he worked
heart and soul, consisted of the Alfred, Columbia, Andrew, Doria and
Cabot. In the latter part of February 1776 they put to sea, going to the
Cape of Delaware, where they were joined by the Hornet, sloop-of-war,
and Wasp, schooner from Maryland. An appropriate couple to sail in
company! Sharp
north-easterly gales blew the little fleet from its course. On March 1st
they dropped anchor at Abaco, in the Bahama Islands; the voyage
affording no adventure or profit, as they captured only a couple of
sloops, for the sake of their pilots. Learning from these men that the
fort at New Providence was well supplied with powder and shot, they
determined to seize it by landing a force before the inhabitants of the
island got wind of their arrival. However, the plan was frustrated, for
the fort fired a shot on their approach to the mouth of the harbour,
and, though a force of sailors and marines landed, it was met by a
messenger, "with the compliments of the governor," and the news that the
western fort was at their disposal; the powder they found removed, but
got some cannon and supplies, carrying off the governor and two
gentlemen as prisoners.
Off Block Island on April 6th the Al/red and
Cabot fell in with the British sloop-of-war Glasgow, twenty guns, which
they engaged with much damage to the Alfred, the Glasgow showing a clean
pair of heels, and the American fleet not attempting to pursue. This was
a disgraceful encounter which only Hopkins's political backing pulled
him through. The Glasgow was a small sloop-of-war, twenty guns, the
Alfred carried twenty-four long nines on the gun deck and six sixes on
the quarterdeck, and a crew of two hundred and twenty. All the guns
could be worked in fine weather, and during the action the sea was as
smooth as a mill-pond. The Cabot was a brigantine armed with fourteen
guns and a crew of two hundred. Surely, even with the damage to the
Al/red's steering gear, and the sure low aim of the Glasgow's gunners,
the day could have been saved from the sheer ignominy that marked it?
The commanders of the American ships, and particularly
Commander-of-the-Fleet Hopkins, senior officer in this fight, were
scathingly criticised for not having given chase, and certainly should
have taken the British sloop.
No sooner had the Americans reached port
than the storm broke, the public condemning every one, from commander to
cook, with lavish impartiality. Hopkins was blamed by the country at
large as incompetent, was court-martialled, and nothing but Adams's
influence kept him from being dismissed the navy. It is interesting to
note that this is what happened to him in similar circumstances a few
years later, when there was no Adams to shield him from the consequences
of his incompetence. The enraged colonists, with blissful ignorance of
naval regulations, blamed the officers individually, an injustice
unendurable to Jones's love of fair play.
"My feelings as an individual were hurt by
the censure that has been indiscriminately thrown out," he wrote. "My
station confined me to the Alfred's lower gun deck, where I commanded
during the action; yet though the commander's letter, which has been
published, says, 'all the officers in the Alfred behaved well'; still
the public blames me, among others, for not taking the enemy. But a
little consideration will place the matter in a true light; for no
officer under a superior, who does not stand charged by that superior
for cowardice or misconduct, can be blamed on any occasion whatever." He
very diplomatically concludes, "I wish a general inquiry might he made
respecting the abilities of officers in all stations, and then the
country would not be cheated."
There were two courts-martial following the
Glasgow affair, and as the result of these Captains Hazard and Whipple
were dismissed the service, Lieutenant Jones, on May JO, 1776,
succeeding Hazard as captain of the Providence.
The moment had now arrived when the "tide in
the affairs of men" carried the adventurous sailor toward those heights
to which he so ardently aspired. The command of the Providence was a
distinct triumph over those who had barred his advancement, and meant
that he was a recognised factor in the cause he so hotly championed.
Some of the Alfred's crew followed Jones to the Providence. Among them
was a full-blooded Narragansett Indian, from Martha's Vineyard, a
whaleman by trade, the first and one of the very few Indians ever in the
United States navy. On August 21st Jones sailed on a six-weeks' cruise
in the Providence, and this has been called the first cruise of an
American man-of-war—the first to be noticed by the enemy, and to shed
any glory on the flag of the new republic.
Far beyond the numbing influence of red
tape, far beyond the gossip of the stay-at-homes and fainthearted, every
inch of canvas swelled by winds that favoured the hopes of that silent,
swarthy man, he never let an opportunity escape his alert eye, watchful
of the most trifling detail on which, in the hour of action, so much
depended. It was a venture worthy of the Vikings and their rude boats,
for the seas were full of English frigates, outranking the little vessel
in everything but the "alertness of her commander and the courage of her
crew." Sixteen
prizes he took, eight were sunk, and the other eight manned and sent
home. Twice he was chased, and once nearly captured by the Solebay,
twenty-eight guns, which he had chased, mistaking her for a merchantman,
only escaping by a manoeuvre "unparalleled in its audacity." It was one
of those opportunities which seemed created expressly to aid the
Scotchman in his hour of need. He says—
"We should not have escaped, judging by the
usual rules of sea manoeuvres, if the frigate, instead of trying to box
about as she did in a fresh breeze, which he was standing as close
hauled to as his trim would stand, had simply followed my manoeuvre of
wearing around under easy helm, trimming his sails as the wind bore. I
could not have distanced him so much in the alteration of the course,
and he must have come off the wind very nearly with me, and before I
could get out of his range. But he put his helm the other way to, luffed
into the teeth of a little squall that I saw already cat's-pawing to the
windward when I wore my ship, and so he broke his steering way, got
taken aback, and let me have the chance to show him a clean pair of
heels on my little sloop's best point of sailing. I do not take to
myself all the credit for this, I did the best I could, but, after all,"
he comments modestly, "there was more luck than sense about it. The fact
is, it was one of those singular cases often happening at sea, where the
fortune of a lucky sailor beats all kinds of calculation, and where a
go4id or bad puff of wind foils all kinds of skill one way or the
other." Be this as
it may, I got off scot free, as you will see by the date of this letter;
leaving my big adversary to clear away his sheets and reeve preventers
at his leisure; meantime answering his distant broadsides by now and
then a musket shot from my taifrail by way of derision. The old saying
that 'discretion is the better part of valour,' may in this case, I
think, be changed to 'impudence is—or may be, sometimes —the better part
of discretion.
Luck, impudence, call it what you will, this remarkable cruise served to
bring the name of Paul Jones before the eyes of his adopted countrymen,
as well as others farther afield. It was his long wished-for
opportunity, and he worked indefatigably to improve it. On November 2nd
he sailed with the Alfred and Providence, Captain Hacker, for a cruise.
Landing at Isle Madame he captured a quantity of arms, replenished his
ammunition and burned three vessels belonging to the fishermen at Cape
Breton, adding another loaded with salt fish to his fleet. Jones made a
dashing landing at Canso, Nova Scotia, capturing the "Tory" flags,
destroying the fishing and striking terror as he went. He failed in his
intention of rescuing the Americans, who were working as prisoners in
the coal mines, owing to the failure of Captain Hacker to obey orders,
which was the cause of so much of Captain Jones's annoyance in his early
American experiences. The Alfred brought her cruise to a triumphant
finish, and put into Boston on December 10, with flag snapping in the
breeze and every inch of bright work glittering like gold. On his cruise
of thirty-three days he had brought in seven prizes. One, the Mellish,
armed transport, laden with quartermaster's supplies for the British
army, and the Bideford, with similar cargo for Sir Henry Guy Carleton's
forces assembling in Canada. These ships, sailing under convoy of the
Milford, frigate of thirty-two guns, were separated from their convoy by
a terrific gale, and fell an easy prey to the Al/Ted, though larger and
heavier ships in every way. The value of his prizes and the lateness of
the season determined Paul Jones to make for port, as he did not wish to
take chances of the prizes being recaptured. Events proved his
foresight, for, two days later, with the Bideford, Mellish, and two
smaller prizes under convoy, they were overhauled by the Milford, in
company with a letter-of-marque. They immediately gave chase to the
Al/red and her prizes. Instantly Jones signalled his little fleet to
crowd on all sail, and make to the south and westward; he dropping to
leeward until he could judge the force of the enemy. The Milford was a
"dull sailer," and, the one virtue about the Alfred being her good
sailing, Jones was able to stay between the Milford and his prizes,
though the Alford managed to keep up the chase during the night,
recapturing the least valuable of the ships, which, through a sprung
foretopmast, had fallen astern. The cruise of a month was considered
most successful, and all Boston assembled to greet him.
He wrote to Robert Morris, immediately on
arriving, the reason of his not fighting the Milford, a larger and
better armed ship. "I felt that it would be wrong in such conditions to
ask one hundred and fourteen men in a ship of only twenty-four guns to
stand alongside a thirty-two of regular rate and battery, with surely
over two hundred in her complement. I felt that it would be asking too
much of the cards,' as we say in whist, when we have a poor hand. So I
ran, and I am not ashamed to confess it. But I brought my prizes safe
in, and I did not submit the poor At/red and her short crew to the
chance of being sunk and butchered by what I considered a foe so
superior that battle with him would he hopeless."
This good reasoning brought its very
substantial reward, for, when the Mellish's cargo was broken out, untold
treasures appeared, prosaic, but more welcome to the ragged continentals
than precious jewels. There were ten thousand complete uniforms, with
cloaks, great boots, socks and woollen shirts, intended for Lord Howe's
army. Fourteen hundred tents, and seven thousand pairs of blankets, six
hundred saddles, with complete cavalry equipment, and one million seven
hundred thousand rounds of "fixed ammunition"—as cartridges were then
called. A large supply of medical stores, and forty cases of medical
instruments, with sundry odds and ends, and forty-six soldiers sent out
to join the different regiments. The Bideford was not far behind in
value, for she had seventeen hundred fur overcoats, for the use of the
British forces in Canada, eleven thousand pairs of blankets, destined
for the troops and Indians who were fighting with them on the northern
frontier of the United States; a thousand "Indian trade smoothbore "
guns, with hatchets, flints and knives, for the same red-skinned
warriors, and eight light six-pound field-guns and equipage for four-gun
batteries of horse artillery. All Sir Guy Carleton's choice wines fell
into the hands of his foes, and a fine case of Galway duelling pistols
was appropriated by Jones, with a share of the wines. He had no use for
the rest of the spoil.
In a measure he was content, having
practically demonstrated his favourite point, that, in time of war, a
small fleet, aiming directly at the destruction of commerce, especially
the shipping at various ports, can cripple the enemy by interrupting the
sinews of war more than can a larger fleet, fighting in the open, where
it is impossible to capture more than a given number of merchant ships,
with the greater element of chance to aid their escape, and the trouble
and care of the prisoners to contend with.
"Jones's plan contemplated destruction, not
capture; injury to the enemy, not prize-money primarily. The latter he
recognised as a necessary concession to the sordid weakness of the mass
of mankind; for himself, glory, distinction, was the prime motive—
self-seeking in him took the shape of loving military success, not
money." A few weeks
later he received the tidings of the total destruction of his
plantation, his worldly wealth, swept away in a twinkling. As he said,
"It appears that I have no fortune left but my sword, and no prospect
except that of getting alongside the enemy." Little as he prized money,
this was a serious blow. His plantation had been the source of a good
sound revenue. "During the three seasons of my ownership, 1773-4-5, the
net income from the agriculture, trade and milling of the plantation,
was nearly 4000 guineas in the aggregate over and above all necessary
outlays." And that sum was worth quite three times what it is to-day.
"Since my coming to Philadelphia, a year ago last June, I have lived on
this surplus, having drawn from the public funds only ,Lo in all that
time; and this not for pay or allowances, but to reimburse me for
expenses of enlisting seamen. Since July 1751 I have drawn to
Philadelphia about 2000 guineas in prime bills. Of this 900 guineas
remain on balance. This is all I have in the world, except an interest
in the firm of Archibald Stuart & Co. of Tobago, which, being under the
enemy's control, is of course unavailable."
He was much grieved over the capture of his
slaves, "whose existence was a species of grown-up childhood, not
slavery. The plantation was to them a home, not a place of bondage . . .
now they are carried off to die under the pestilential lash of Jamaica
cane fields, and the price of their poor bodies will swell the pockets
of English slave traders. For this cruelty to these innocent, harmless
people, I hope some time, soon, to exact a reckoning."
Canny old Macbean had escaped in the
confusion of Lord Dunmore's raid, and, despite his three score years,
joined General Morgan's riflemen, and Jones begs Mr. Hewes to "mention
him" to Morgan. Old Duncan, "who always limps a little with an old wound
of Braddock's defeat," was "without rival in the art of deer-stalking in
the tidewater country, and a dead shot. He has—I presume—taken with him
the fine Lancaster rifle of my brother. It is the best rifle I know of
in Virginia, and if Duncan has it, all is well." He expresses a low
opinion of "his lordship's conception of civilized warfare," which
opinion all the tidewater region of Virginia heartily endorsed; though
the burning of Norfolk, for which Dunmore in blamed, was the work of the
townspeople themselves, to keep the troops from shelter in the bitter
weather. He describes the plantation, after a visit some months later,
as "the completest wreck imaginable of every kind of possessions that
were on the land, and therefore could not be scuttled and sunk in the
sea." But in his
tempestuous life, where the bitter mingled so with the sweet, there was
no time for repining. On his return he learned that a number of
unheard-of skippers had been promoted over his head, making him
eighteenth instead of sixth captain on the list. Six of these estimable
persons were friends of Adams, and hailed from New England, which, Jones
remarks, "gives rise to the suspicion in my mind that Mr. Adams has
taken advantage of my absence, cruising against the enemy, and thus
debarred from watchfulness of the happenings ashore to promote at small
cost to himself several more of his respectable skippers of West Indian
lumber-droghers at my expense. If their fate shall be like that of his
share in the first five captains last year, I can only say that Mr.
Adams has properly provided for a greater number of courts- martial than
of naval victories!
A nasty stab in the back to one, who, as he
says, was at sea, ignorant of what was taking place. He tells Jefferson
: "You are aware, honoured sir, that I have no family connection at my
back, but rest my case wholly on what I do. As I survey the list of
twelve captains who have been newly jumped over me by the act of October
10th, I cannot help seeing that all but three are persons of high family
connection in the bailliwick of Mr. Adams."
The following month, so great had been the
dissatisfaction shown by many members of the Congress, a new list of
captains was drawn up with a "rearrangement of linear rank," in which
Jones was sixth, or just after Nicholas Biddle. But the "political
skippers," as Jones always called them, had influence enough to get this
pigeon-holed, and it was heard of no more.
Almost immediately on returning from this
successful voyage, Jones was surprised and chagrined at the orders he
received to turn the Alfred over to Captain Hineman. Jones was ordered
to report to Philadelphia, then the capital of the United States, for
duty in connection with the Board of Advice to the Marine Committee,
remaining there from January till June 1777. He worked with a will to
bring order out of the chaos by which he was confronted, succeeding in
leaving the stamp of his personality on even so dull a subject as naval
regulations. On June 14th, Jones was ordered to Portsmouth to command
the Ranger, then building, and from this moment begins the most
interesting part of his stormy career, when from a reputation not more
than local, he sprang into worldwide fame which, with its glamour,
remained undimmed to the hour of his death. |
