From an old wood-cut.

If those Englishmen who wonder why it is that American schoolboys, when playing games of “war,” invariably speak of the “enemy” as “the British”—if those wondering English wish to learn why this is so, let them read with candid minds the true story of the American struggle for life and liberty.

CHAPTER IX
JOHN PAUL JONES AND THE BONHOMME RICHARD

A CONDEMNED INDIAMAN, ILL-SHAPED AND ROTTEN, FITTED AS A MAN-O’-WAR—A DISHEARTENING CRUISE WITH INCAPABLE AND MUTINOUS ASSOCIATES—ATTEMPT TO TAKE LEITH, AND THE SCOTCH PARSON’S PRAYER—MEETING THE SERAPIS—WHEN JOHN PAUL JONES HAD “NOT YET BEGUN TO FIGHT”; WHEN HE HAD “GOT HER NOW”; WHEN HE WOULD NOT “SURRENDER TO A DROP OF WATER”—READY WIT OF RICHARD DALE—WORK OF A BRIGHT MARINE—A BATTLE WON BY SHEER PLUCK AND PERSISTENCE.

The one sea-fight of the American struggle for liberty that is of unfailing interest was that in which John Paul Jones, in the Bonhomme Richard, whipped the British frigate Serapis. And the student need not go far to seek the reason for this interest, because it is found in the fact that it was the man that won, and neither the ship nor the crew. It was won in spite of such obstacles as no other man has ever been obliged to face at sea. It was a victory typical of the ultimate success of the American cause, for it was a victory that was literally dragged out of the breakers of destruction.

John Paul Jones reached Brest, France, after his brilliant cruise in the Ranger, on May 8, 1778. It was not until February 4, 1779, that he was again ordered in command of a ship. The delay was due, of course, to the utter lack of funds to the account of the American commissioners in France. France, however, was at war with England, and to the French court Jones applied, time and again, but without success until after he happened to read one of Franklin’s old “Almanacks” containing “Poor Richard’s Maxims.” Therein he read that wise saying: “If you wish to have any business done faithfully and expeditiously, go and do it yourself.”

This is worth telling, first, because Jones acted on this advice, and on going to Paris was so well received that he got a ship. It is also worth telling because the maxim made such a deep impression on Jones that, having been placed in command of a ship, he changed her name to “Poor Richard,” which, when translated into French, is Bonhomme Richard. That the Bonhomme Richard will float in history so long as a record of sails exists scarce need be said.

A most remarkable vessel was this that was transferred to the use of the American commander. On reaching L’Orient, where she was lying, he found her a huge, wall-sided merchantman that had ended her usefulness as an India trader, and was now to be transferred to another use, just as worn-out ships in these days become coal barges in the Atlantic coasting trade. She had an enormously high poop and an enormously high forecastle. Her masts were short, her sails were squat, and her bows and stern were as blunt as those of an Erie Canal boat. But, worst of all, she was so old that the life was out of all of her timbers, and some of them were wholly rotten.

Nevertheless, this energetic sailorman set about fitting her for a warship where a man of ordinary enthusiasm would have hesitated about trusting himself afloat offshore in her. What labor fitting her for sea implied may be inferred from the fact that, after a look at her, “he hastened to Bordeaux to order the casting of the cannon.”

As an Indiaman the ship had carried guns on her main deck. The guns had been removed, and Jones went to Bordeaux to get eighteen-pounders to put there, but finding it would take too long to provide them, he was forced to content himself with twelve-pounders. On the forecastle and the quarterdeck he mounted nine-pounders—four forward and four aft. Then, as the ship stood high out of water, he went down on the deck below the main and had six ports cut through on each side, and for these he procured six eighteen-pounders, which were installed, three on each side, leaving three empty ports on each side—ports which, though empty, served the purpose of making the enemy think his ship more powerful than it really was. As the event showed, it was not even as powerful as Jones supposed it was. But, worst of all among the perils of such a voyage as was proposed (had Jones been a man to calculate perils), was that found in the heterogeneous character of his crew when shipped. American naval ships have since had as curious mixtures as this one did, but it is worth noting that, besides Americans, it contained men from England, Ireland, and Scotland; from Norway, France, Spain, Portugal, Malta, and the Portuguese Islands; from Africa, India, and the Malayan Peninsula. With such a crew as this, and short-handed at that, Captain Jones had to go to sea; but, as will be told further on, he got some recruits of a stamp worth having. Meantime, while fitting out the Bonhomme Richard, he was joined by Master’s Mate Richard Dale, who had escaped from the terrors of the British prison. Dale shipped with Jones as master’s mate, but he was what would be called in the slang of these days a “hustler,” and before the ship sailed the discriminating eye of the master had picked him out for first lieutenant. Next to Jones, the credit of the great fight that followed was due to the unwearied zeal and the undaunted courage of this man.