On the afternoon of the 5th of September, a storm arose. For four days one of the fiercest of gales ploughed the seas of those high northern latitudes; for the squadron was then in the parallel of northern Labrador. In the second night of the gale the Alliance again disappeared, though there was nothing to prevent the vessels of the squadron from keeping in sight of each other. The Vengeance and the Pallas alone remained with the Richard.
The squadron followed down the eastern coast of Scotland far out at sea. Their first sight of land revealed the summits of the Cheviot Hills, far away in the south. This was in the evening of the 13th. The next day they gave chase to several vessels and succeeded in capturing a large ship and a brig, both laden with coal, some distance off the frith or bay of Edinburgh.
The city of Leith is the seaport of the city of Edinburgh, which stands about a mile back from the bay. Leith contained a population of about twenty-five thousand, and its harbor was crowded with shipping. Captain Jones learned, from his prizes, that there was no land battery to defend Leith, and that there was, in the harbor, in addition to the ordinary shipping, an armed vessel of twenty guns, and three fine cutters. Captain Jones, always eager for heroic measures, and whose courage, extraordinary as it was, was ever tempered by discretion, seeing both Leith and Edinburgh within reach of his blows and reposing in indolence and supposed security, desired to make an instantaneous attack. He summoned Captain Cottineau of the Pallas and Captain Chamillard of the Vengeance to meet in his cabin. As he opened his bold plan to them they were appalled at the idea of attacking, with three small vessels, Leith, and consequently Edinburgh, which would instantly send all her forces to the rescue. Captain Jones eloquently urged upon the French officers the motives which influenced his own mind.
“It is,” he said, “a matter of the utmost importance to teach the enemy humanity by some exemplary stroke of retaliation. And there is no way in which we can release from the most cruel captivity the American prisoners in England, but by making captives of some persons of note. The aristocratic Government of Great Britain will care but little for the fate of their poor sailors and fishermen.
“Moreover, the Allies are soon to make a formidable descent on the south side of England. It will greatly help their operations, if we can make a diversion here in the north. The bold measure will alarm them. They will imagine that an immense force is to follow into the Bay of Edinburgh. This will compel them to hurry their armies to the north, leaving the south unprotected.
“And bold as the measure appears to be, it is by no means quixotic. There is every reason to expect success. We know just what resistance we have to encounter. We have ample means to overcome that resistance. And should any unforeseen calamity thwart our plans, we can promptly put to sea, and there are no vessels at hand which will dare to pursue us.”
Thus he argued all the night, but unavailingly. Objections and difficulties were presented without number. There was perhaps never more unselfish patriotism than that which glowed in the bosom of Paul Jones. The idea of his own personal interest being promoted by the plunder he should take, seemed never to have entered his mind. It would have been unreasonable to expect that such purity of motive could govern the French officers. They were merely the allies of America, and, in the war, had no important national interests at stake. Captain Jones then appealed to another motive.
“The cities of Leith and Edinburgh will readily give a million of dollars to ransom their two cities from the flames.”
A million of dollars! two hundred thousand pounds. This thought touched and melted their hearts. All opposition gave way. They were now ready to coöperate, with all the zeal which mercenary instincts could inspire.
