For Love of Country: A Story of Land and Sea in the Days of the Revolution

by Cyrus Townsend Brady

"Ay, ay; Jack's right, Bill."

"Then blow the dissyplin', say I; I'll take orders from a man wot ain't afraid o' nothin', wot hates the red rag we knows of, wot won't send me where he won't go himself. Fightin' and prize money, he 's our man. Besides, wot's the use o' kickin', we got to do it; we're bound by them articles of war we signed," continued this deep-sea philosopher. "Now, pass me my can o' grog, Tom, I 'm dry as a cod. Here 's to America, and damn the British, too," continued this sea lawyer, drinking his toast amid shouts of approval from the men.

Left to himself, Seymour, after the men had received their grog, and other necessary duties had been attended to, turned the deck over to Lieutenant Wallingford, whose watch it was with Philip Wilton, and, descending the poop-deck ladder, disappeared through the same door which had received the two officers into the cabin.

Three weeks had elapsed since the raid upon the Wilton place, and the scene had shifted from Virginia to the sea, or rather to the great bay which gives entrance to it, from the Delaware River. It was a clear cold day in the early part of December, and the American Continental ship Ranger had just left her moorings off Philadelphia, with orders to proceed to English waters; stopping at Brest to receive the orders of the commissioners in Paris, and then, in case no better ship could be found, to ravage the English Channel and coast, as a warning that like processes, on the part of England on our own shores, should not go unpunished.

John Paul Jones, who had already given evidence, not only of that desperate courage and unyielding tenacity which had marked him as among the most notable of sea officers the world has seen,—lacking nothing but opportunity to have equalled, if not surpassed a Nelson—but of consummate seamanship and great executive ability as well, had been appointed to command the ship. Before proceeding on the mission, however, an important undertaking had been allotted to him. The commissioners had sent word from France, by a fast-sailing armed packet, of the near departure of a transport from England, called the Mellish, laden with two thousand muskets, twenty field-pieces, powder, and other munitions of war, and ten thousand suits of winter clothes, destined for the army that was assembling at Halifax and Quebec for the invasion of the colonies, by way of the St. Lawrence River and Lake Champlain.

Congress had transmitted the letter from France to Captain Jones, with directions that he endeavor to intercept and capture this transport. The destitution of the American army at this period of the war was frightful: devoid of clothes, arms, provisions, powder,—everything, in fact, which is apparently vital to the existence of an army; continually beaten, menaced by a confident, well-equipped, and disciplined enemy in overwhelming force, and before whom they had been habitually retreating, they were only held together by the indomitable will and heroic resolution of one man, George Washington. The fortunes of the colonies were never at a lower ebb than at that moment, and there was apparently nothing further to look forward to but a continuation of the disintegration until the end came. The meagre resources of the lax confederacy were already strained to the utmost, and the capture of a ship laden as this one was reported to be, would be of incalculable service. Clothes and shoes to cover the nakedness of the soldiery and protect them from the inclemency of the winter, now fast approaching, and arms to put in their hands, by means of which they could assume the offensive and attack the enemy, or at least defend themselves—what more could they desire! The desperate nature of the situation, the dire need of just such additions to the equipment of the army, had been plainly communicated to Captain Jones, and he was resolved to effect the capture if it were humanly possible. The matter had also been reported to General Washington; and such was his opinion of the necessity of a prompt distribution and a speedy forwarding of the supplies, if they could be secured, by the blessing of Providence, and so little was his faith in the inefficient commissariat, which, moreover, had to endeavor to keep the balance between different colonies and different bodies of troops, more or less loosely coherent, that he had detailed one of his own staff officers to accompany the ship, with explicit instructions as to the exact distribution and the prompt forwarding which the needs of the troops rendered necessary, when the captured ship should reach port, which would probably be Boston, though circumstances might render it advisable to take the longer journey to Philadelphia. The officer to whom this duty had been allotted was Talbot, of whose capacity and energy General Washington already thought highly; the three weeks of their military association only confirming his previous opinion. It was understood that Seymour, who was Jones' first lieutenant, and would shortly be promoted to a captaincy, would bring back the transport if they were lucky enough to capture it. In case they were unsuccessful, Talbot was to report himself to the commissioners at Paris as military secretary, until further orders; and Seymour was to command the Ranger, when Jones should get a better ship in France.

The Ranger was a small sloop of war, a corvette of perhaps five hundred tons, with a raised poop and a topgallant forecastle, built at Portsmouth, New Hampshire; a new ship, and one of the first of those built especially for naval purposes. She was originally intended for twenty-six guns, but the number, through the wisdom of her captain, who had fathomed the qualifications of the ship, had been reduced to eighteen, four long twelves, and the rest six pounders, and smaller, with one long eighteen forward. She had been some days in commission, and the effect of Jones' iron discipline was already apparent in the absence of confusion and in the cleanness and order of the ship. The vessel had been very popular with the good people of Philadelphia, her commander and officers likewise, many of the latter, like Seymour, being natives of the town; and a constant stream of visitors had inspected her, at all permitted hours. The presence of these visitors, of course including many ladies, coupled with an inherent vanity and love of finery and neatness on the part of the captain,—and, to do him justice, his appreciation of the necessity for order and neatness,—had caused him to maintain his ship in the handsomest possible trim, and he had not scrupled to employ his private fortune to beautify the vessel in many small ways, the details of which would have escaped any eye but that of a seaman, though the general results were apparent.

That general appearance which should always distinguish a trim and well-ordered vessel of war from the clumsy and disorderly trader, was due entirely to his efforts. The crew, as we have seen, had chafed under the unusual restraints of this stern discipline; but they were unable, as, indeed, in the last resort they would have been unwilling, to oppose it. Some of the older men, too, and some of those who had sailed with Jones in his already famous cruises, held out the hope of large prize money, and, what was better with many of them, the chance of a blow at the enemy, if any of her cruisers of anything like equal force appeared,—a chance sure to come about in the frequented waters of the English Channel. The crew of an American man-of-war at that period, at least the native portion of it, always in overwhelming majority, was of much higher class than the general run of seafaring men. Among those in the Ranger were several who had been mates of merchantmen,—Bentley again among the number,—men of some education, and able to serve their country as officers with credit, had the navy been increased as it should have been, and whose subordinate positions only indicated their intense patriotism. The low and degraded element which sometimes is such a source of mischief and disaster in ships' crews, was conspicuous by its absence. The reputation of Captain Jones as a disciplinarian was very well known among sailors generally, and only his reputation as a fighter and a successful prize-taker would have enabled him to assemble the remarkable crew to which he had spoken, and which was to back him up so gallantly in many desperate undertakings and wonderful sea fights, of this and his succeeding phenomenal cruise.

Seymour had rapidly recovered from his wounds under Madam Talbot's careful nursing and ministrations, and when his orders reached him he had been ready, accompanied by Philip Wilton and Bentley, to join his ship at once.

He still carried the blood-stained handkerchief, and many and many a time had laid it, with its initials, "K. W.," embroidered by her own hand, upon his lips. This was not his only treasure, however. In a wallet in the breast pocket of his coat he carried and treasured a letter, only the veriest scrap of paper, with these few lines hastily written upon it.