Bowing low, Captain Pearson offered him his sword. His first Lieutenant did likewise.
“Captain Pearson,” said the victorious John Paul, “you have fought heroically. You have worn this weapon to your own credit and to the honor of your service. I hope that your sovereign will suitably reward you.”
The British commander was the image of chagrin and despair. He bowed again, and then walked slowly into the cabin, followed by his crest-fallen Lieutenant.
It was nearly midnight. The full moon above—in a cloudless sky—made it almost as light as day. Seven feet of water were in the hold of the Richard; she had sunk so much that many shot-holes were below the water-line and could not be plugged. Nearly sixty of her crew lay dead upon her decks; more than a hundred and twenty were desperately wounded. Every twelve-pounder of the starboard broadside was either dismounted, or disabled. The starboard side, which had been opposite the Serapis’s eighteen-pounders, was driven so far in, that, but for a few frames and stanchions which remained, the whole gun-deck would have fallen through. She was afire, and the flames licked upward with an eager hiss.
“Take the wounded aboard the Serapis!” commanded Captain Jones. “We must desert our good ship!”
In an hour’s time all were upon the deck of the vanquished Britisher. No one was left on the Richard but the dead. The torn and tattered flag was still flying from the gaff, and, as the battered sea-warrior gradually settled in the long swell, the unconquered ensign fluttered defiantly in the slight breeze. At length the Bon Homme Richard plunged downward by the head; her taffrail rose momentarily on high, and, with a hoarse roar of eddying bubbles and sucking air, the conqueror disappeared from view. To her immortal dead was bequeathed the flag which they had so desperately defended.
So ended the great battle. Thus Paul Jones had made his name immortal. And by it he was to be known for all time.
This was not the end of his career, by any means. He never again fought for the infant Republic of the United States. But he became an Admiral in the Russian Navy: battled valorously for the great Empress Catherine against the Turks, and died in Paris, July 18th, 1792.
Buried at the French capital, his body was disinterred in the year 1905, and brought to the United States, to be entombed with military honors, at Annapolis, Maryland.