“I wish to have no connection with any ship that does not sail fast. For I intend to go in harm’s way. You know, I believe, that this is not every one’s intention. Therefore buy a frigate that sails fast and that is sufficiently large to carry twenty-six or twenty-eight guns, not less than twelve-pounders, on one deck. I would rather be shot ashore than sent to sea in such things as the armed prizes I have described.”
An offer was made by a wealthy merchant of Nantes, M. Montieu, to place Captain Jones in a first-class ship, thoroughly armed, to proceed on a privateering expedition. He replied:
“Were I in pursuit of profit, I should accept the offer without hesitation. But I am under such obligations to Congress that I cannot think myself my own master. And as a servant of the imperial republic of America, honored with the public approbation of my past services, I cannot, from my own authority or inclination, serve either myself or my best friends in any private line whatsoever, unless where the honor and interest of America is the premier object.”
War was now openly declared between France and England. The colonies could not furnish Captain Jones with a suitable frigate, and there were many French naval officers eager to take command of such ships as the king could furnish. Consequently the prospects of Captain Jones, notwithstanding his high reputation for both bravery and ability, were very dark. In this emergence, and consumed with the desire for active service, he wrote a letter to the king. In this letter, after a very truthful and very modest narrative of his past experience, he says:
“Thus have I been chained down to shameful inactivity for five months. I have lost the best season of the year, and such opportunities of serving my country and acquiring honor as I cannot again expect during this war. And, to my infinite mortification, having no command, I am considered everywhere as an officer cast off, and in disgrace for secret reasons.
“Having written to Congress to reserve no command for me in America, my sensibility is the more affected by this unworthy situation in the sight of your majesty’s fleet. Although I wish not to become my own panegyrist, I must beg your majesty’s permission to observe that I am not an adventurer in search of fortune, of which, thank God, I have a sufficiency.
“When the American banners were first displayed, I drew my sword in support of the violated dignity and rights of human nature. And both honor and duty prompt me steadfastly to continue the righteous pursuit, and to sacrifice to it not only my private enjoyments, but even life, if necessary. I must acknowledge that the generous praise which I have received from Congress and others, exceeds the merit of my past services, and therefore I the more ardently wish for future opportunities of testifying my gratitude by my activity.
“As your majesty, by espousing the cause of America, has become the protector of the rights of human nature, I am persuaded that you will not disregard my situation, nor suffer me to remain any longer in this insupportable disgrace.”
This letter was enclosed in one to the Duchess of Chartres, with whom he was personally acquainted, and from whom he had received kind attentions. He besought her to present the letter to his majesty the king; which she did.
One day, chance threw into Captain Jones’s hands an old almanac, containing Poor Richard’s Maxims, by Doctor Franklin. In that curious medley of wit and wisdom, poor Richard is represented as saying: