IT is indisputably to his previous
acquaintance with the Duc de Chartres that Paul Jones owed his entre and
much of his success in French society, for where a prince of the blood
leads, others soon follow. The most impartial historian has been unable
to find excuses for de Chartres, profligate that he was, spend- thrift,
and master of vice of every description, whose path was always downward.
Even the descendants of those men whom the Regent scathingly called his
roués—a name of greater contempt and infamy than in our day—turned from
him with loathing. The unnameable
orgies of the regence were repeated, with additions undreamed of by the
former revellers. The very Citizens of Paris shuddered in disgust at the
tales which Crept out—no one knew just how—of saturnalia and licence
inconceivable. in 1783 this prince built for himself, in the lovely Parc
Monceau, a. pavilion later known as "la foüe le Chartes," which became a
theatre for the enactment of those abominable revels. Another cause of
his extreme unpopularity with the citizens was the plan lie carried out
of disfiguring the Palais Royal with cheap and hideous booths, known as
baraques. In vain his neighbours protested, for it spoilt their view of
the old garden; but the prospect of the rents he would draw so appealed
to Monseigneur that he proceeded unmoved.
The gardens under his rule were
constantly being changed and replanted; he even vent to the expense of
building an underground circus, which was later destroyed by fire.
De Chartres was married to Marie Adelaide
de Bourbon Penthièvrc, the richest heiress in France, whose fortune he
could not spend fast enough. So terrible were his extravagances that
legal steps had to he taken to prevent him ruining her and their family.
In 1790 the Duchesse told Gouverneur Morris, then American Minister,
that the Due's treasurer did not pay her regularly every month, and if
it continued she would separate from her husband. Her father, the Due de
Penthièvre, tried by every means to bring his son-in-law to reason, and
to avoid the open scandal such a separation would cause in consequence
of their high rank. It was useless de Chartres, now Duc d'Orléans, would
listen to no one, and a lawsuit was commenced which lasted till 1793.
Mme. de 'lourzel asserts that his hatred of the Princesse de Lamballe
dates from this moment, as he believed her to have been instrumental in
bringing about the separation which deprived him of the control of his
wife's purse.
D'Orléans was intensely disliked by the
King and Queen, and history accuses him of wasting the Duchesse's money
on the leaders of the sans-collutes and most rabid revolutionaries, by
whose help he hoped to bring about the speedy downfall of the royal
family. There were persons living at the time who swore to having seen
him in disguise at the fall of the Bastille, and at Versailles on the
night of October 6th. But on July 12, 1789, when the Prince de Lambesec
and his German soldiers charged the mob in the Tuileries Gardens, and
the partisans of d'Orléans and Necker carried busts of these worthies
through the streets, crying, " Vive Ie Due d'Orlcans! Vive Necker!" the
Duc, though accused of encouraging his followers by his presence, is
able to prove an alibi. That beautiful and notorious lady, Grace
Dalrymple Elliot, who was the Duc's chere amiee, begins her interesting
memoir—
"In the year 1789, July 12th, which was
on a Sunday, I went with the Due d'Orléans, Prince Louis d'Aremberg, and
others whose names I do not recollect, to fish and dine at the Due's
château of Raincy, in the forest of Bondy, near Paris." As the party,
after a long and, it is to be hoped, happy day in the country, returned
to Paris at eleven in the evening, the Due's actions seem satisfactorily
accounted for. His connivance in the fiendish murder of the Princesse de
Lamballe is said to be due to the fact that, on her death, the immense
fortune of which she was possessed reverted to him; and he was dining
with his mistress, Mme. de Bouffon, at the Palais Royale, quite
undisturbed by the horrors of the September massacres, when the mob
stuck the pike bearing the beautiful head up to his window. D'Orléans
looked calmly out and said, "Oh, it is de LamhaIle' head, I know it by
the long hair," and, reseating himself, went comfortably on with his
repast.
The Duc was a man who had no sense of
shame about anything, and openly gave his mistress, Mme. de Genus,
apartments in the Palais Royal, and appointed her to the post of
governess to his children, despite the objections of the Duchesse. To
such an extent did the artful lady get her charges under her influence
that they refused to leave her and go to their mother, to the untold
sorrow of the latter. D'Orleans is described as a pleasant companion and
master of the art of pleasing—when it was to his advantage— and it
suited him to help the Americans' cause, for he had his own chestnuts to
pull out of the fire. A man who will foment anarchy and revolution in
his own country has very little of the true spirit of patriotism, and
this, with the callous way he broke his wife's heart and estranged her
children from her, inclines one to believe the many discreditable
stories so freely told, and feel more than glad that the fate to which
he doomed his unoffending cousin became his, when, amid groans and
hisses, "Egalité" ascended the guillotine.
In 1778 he had not reached the stage
where he was prepared to declare himself so openly, and, though persona
non grata at the Court, could and did help Paul Jones to the best of his
ability. He also presented him to the Duchess, who became a staunch
friend, and aided the Americans with large sums of money.
Paul Jones was unquestionably at this
moment the most sought-after man in Paris, and it is amusing to what an
extent women of all ranks were attracted by a personality which was an
indescribable blending of tamed pirate and man of fashion. They swarmed
around him like bees around honey, for his very appearance breathed
untold romance as he gazed into those melting blue, brown, or grey eyes,
in whose company he found himself at the moment, with a fervour that set
hearts beating unevenly. Had the success of his mission to France
depended solely on the efforts of women, unquestionably he would have
accomplished his ends in less time; as it was he owed more to the
kindness of the Duchesse de Chartres than his intense gratitude could
ever repay. Interested in such an unusual type of man, the Duchess on
all occasions used to treat him with the utmost graciousness, and
nicknamed him—as it was her habit to do with those she liked—the
"Chevalier sans titre de la rner."
But it must not be supposed, even with
the aid and patronage of this very charming lady, everything went
smoothly. To begin with, there was wrangling among the Commissioners
from the United States. Dr. Franklin wished to keep Paul Jones in
Europe, while Lee, who hated and feared him, was bent on getting him on
the other side of the Atlantic at the first opportunity. Silas Deane,
the third Commissioner, was a non-entity, with little voice in the
matter. Lee was playing the traitor, and employing "two British spies "
as his private secretaries, so that all the intentions of the new
republic were at once known in London. Lee feared Jones, and knew how
little mercy he could expect from the fiery captain if his treachery was
discovered; therefore, the sooner he got Paul out of his way the better.
It would be interesting to know why Lee, a man blessed with the world's
goods, played this part. It could not be said gain was the motive for
his treachery to a cause he championed of his own free will from the
first. But he did not wish Jones to remain in Europe. However, Dr.
Franklin held the controlling vote; he thundered forth his orders that
Paul Jones was to stay in France, and Paul stayed.
It was the crisis in his life, for had
not the good doctor carried his point, Paul most probably would have
been relegated to the rank of captain in an infant and unformed navy
where, lacking that political influence without which little was
possible, obscurity might have been his portion instead of the brilliant
rank he so deservedly won.
It was understood that on his arrival in
France Jones was to he given command of the lndien, a frigate for which
he had prepared the plans in 1775. These the Marine Committee had
approved, and Silas Deane contracted for the frigate to be laid down at
Amsterdam the following year. As Holland maintained a neutral policy
towards the rest of Europe, the frigate was supposedly intended for the
East India Company, and built under the supervision of Captain Gillon,
he being directed by Charles Frederick Dumas, the secret agent of the
United States, through whose hankers all hills were paid. The Indien was
frigate built, with an extreme length over all of 154 feet; her
complement of officers and men numbered four hundred. "She was forty or
fifty per cent. more powerful than any regular frigate then afloat; the
equal, in fact, of any forty-four gun ship on the two decks in that
period, and little inferior to most ships of fifty guns."
By order of the Marine Committee, Jones
was to assume command of the ship on his arrival. What was his surprise
then, to learn, on reaching Paris, that the ship had been sold to the
King of France for a price that covered the expenses of her
construction! He was dumbfounded, and demanded the reason of this forced
sale.
The Indien had been launched, and ready
to proceed to 1'Orient to receive her guns, when, like a bolt out of the
blue, Sir Joseph Yorke, Minister to the Netherlands, reported to the
States-General that she was an American ship of war, that her building
had been carried on under false pretences, and demanding that she should
be detained in Dutch waters for " meditated breach of neutrality." All
concerned in the venture were amazed at the betrayal of the well-kept
secret, until Jones, to whom it was a matter of vital interest, found
they had been betrayed to King George's government by Lee's private
"secretary," Thornton. So complete was the evidence of this piece of
treachery, that copies of the most secret letters and documents, proving
beyond a doubt the purpose for which the Indien was intended, had been
furnished, How Dr. Franklin ever managed to restrain Paul Jones from
falling upon Lee, and rending him limb from limb as the price of his
treachery, is not related. But there was a terrible scene.
Furious as Jones felt, at Dr. Franklin's
wish he went to Amsterdam to see the ship. Dark-eyed and swarthy, he
looked what he claimed to be, a Spanish officer, wishing to inspect the
Indien and report on it to his master, the King of Spain, with the
probability of purchasing, if satisfactory. His fluent Spanish stood him
in good stead, and he was able to make such observations as he would,
without any one dreaming that the redoubtable Paul Jones was at large
among the unprotected citizens of Amsterdam. So well was the secret
kept, that Dumas was the only person to whom he revealed his identity,
and not one of Lee's spies got an inkling of the plan. This trip
occupied nearly two months, and Jones returned to Franklin with the
assurance that during the existing neutrality between England and
Holland it would be idle to waste time in trying to get possession of
the ship, even though it were the property of the French government.
In refutation of the assertion that Jones
behaved violently over his disappointment in losing the Indien, his own
letter is worth quoting.
"I understood," he wrote to the Marine
Committee, in his first despatches from Nantes, "though I have yet
received no letter, that the commissioners had provided for me one of
the finest frigates that ever was built, calculated for thirty guns on
one deck, and capable of carrying thirty six-pounders; but were under
the necessity of giving her up, on account of Some difficulties which
they met with at Court. Perhaps the news of our late successes may now
put that court in a better humour. But my unfeigned thanks are equally
due for that intention."
In another letter he says, " Deeply
sensible of the honour which Congress has conferred upon me,
communicated in the orders of the secret committee to the commissioners,
I can bear the disappointment with philosophy. Yet I confess I was
rather hurt when, at Paris, I understood that the new frigate at
Amsterdam had never been intended for me, before my appearance, but for
the constructor."
After some delay, Franklin verbally
ordered him to join the Ranger, where, on arrival, he found enough to
keep him busy, as the crew of the good ship was in a state verging upon
mutiny, having been stirred up and worked upon by the first Lieutenant
Simpson, described as "a brave man, and for his calibre a good officer,
a thoroughbred Yankee sailor, but a man of less brain than ambition." He
had convinced the crew that Jones was permanently detached from the
Ranger, that orders to sail from home were expected, and he, Simpson,
was to be in command; with a lot more misinformation. It is said of
Jones, "that the crew used to get crazy about him when he was with them
and talking to them, and it was only when his back was turned that any
one could wean them away from him;" and the master hand of Lee was at
the bottom of this, with the assistance of those "private secretaries,"
Thornton and Hezckiah Ford.
Jones was a man of action:' he sent
instantly for the disturbing Mr. Simpson.
"I command this ship, Mr. Simpson," he
said, "by virtue of the resolution of Congress, dated June 14th last.
But I will urge none of these considerations upon you in your present
attitude. So far as you are concerned, I will say only that I command
this ship by virtue of the fact that I am personally the best man
aboard—a fact which I shall cheerfully demonstrate to you at your
pleasure! And I wish you to signify your pleasure to me here and now!"
Mr. Simpson instantly decided that he had
been sadly misunderstood, and that he wished for nothing better than to
serve loyally under his commander as he had always been proud to do. His
Yankee caution warned him that it was better to be "a living donkey than
a dead lion," and that he had no wish to be a human target. The apology
served Jones, who, with his customary good nature, "commanded him to
join him, as he was going ashore to dine with the commandant of the
Brest dockyard," assuring him that the French officers would gladly
welcome an additional guest.
Jones returned from Holland in March
1778, but did not sail for his cruise in the Ranger, until April 10th.
In the interval he had the good fortune to be constantly in the company
of the Due and Duchesse de Chartres, who were in residence at Brest. The
day previous to the Ranger's sailing, April 9th, the Duchesse paid him
the unusual compliment of giving a dinner in his honour; at which,
beside the household and retinue of their rank, many distinguished
officers of both services were present, naturally leading the
conversation to naval affairs.
In this Paul took a passive part until
d'Orvillers brought up the great French battle off Malaga, in which the
Comte de Toulouse fought the allied English and Dutch fleets. That he
did not pursue, when they ran for Gibraltar, d'Orvillers made the
subject of adverse comment on de Toulouse. Speaking for the first time,
Jones politely but decidedly differed with d'Orviller's opinion. If one
of the fallen angels had appeared in that distinguished assembly
unannounced, the effect could not have been more startling; for, in
their secret souls, most of these elegant courtiers had considered Jones
as an ordinary "Yankee skipper," a man of good address, gifted with more
savoir faire than the average adventurer, but never thought of him as a
man of education or a profound student of history. They did not know
that naval history was his dearest hobby, and from the days of Noah's
ark and the rudimentary coracle to the latest ship of war he was master
of his subject.
Without a suspicion of the surprise
caused by his remarks, he proceeded to explain technically his grounds
for difference of opinion in language showing his complete familiarity
with the strategical value of the manoeuvres of de Toulouse's fleet, and
gave, off-hand, the armament of every ship in his command. It is an
indisputable fact that he was the only man present who could have
furnished this information, for the French navy was, fundamentally, an
aristocratic organisation, to enter which certain degrees of nobility
and hereditary honours were indispensable, often to the detriment of the
service. He proved to them that his grasp of the political importance of
the battle, and its effect on the war of the Spanish Succession, was not
inferior to his technical knowledge; and, it may be said, from this
moment Paul Jones's French acquaintances took him seriously, accepting
him for the man of refinement and culture that he was, and let their
half contemptuous picture of pirate and filibuster fade from their
minds. They began, in a measure, to understand something of his complex
character.
The Duchesse, in whom the Chinese trait
of ancestor worship was strongly developed, 'delighted beyond everything
in the history of her grandfather whom Paul so flatteringly defended.
She expressed her pleasure graciously, giving an order to one of her
attendants. A few minutes later a case was brought to her, which she
opened, taking from it a richly jewelled watch of exquisite Louis XV
design, which she smilingly handed to him, with the explanation that it
had belonged to her grandfather, who always wore it. For once in his
life Paul Jones was so taken aback as to be almost at a loss for
suitable words in which to thank the royal lady, so unexpected was the
gift. But he overcame his momentary embarrassment, thanking the
beautiful Duchesse who had so honoured him, adding, with a deep bow, as
he placed the wonderful jewelled toy close to his ambitious heart—
"May it please your Royal Highness, if
fortune should favour me at sea, I will some day lay an English frigate
at your feet." |