“We did not abandon her till after nine o’clock. A little after ten, I saw, with inexpressible grief, the last glimpse of the Bon Homme Richard. No lives were lost with the ship; but it was impossible to save the stores of any sort whatever. I lost the best part of my clothes, books, and papers. Several of my officers lost all their clothes and effects.”
Making one or two dying surges, the Richard plunged headlong into the fathomless abyss, carrying her dead with her to their sublime ocean burial. There the mangled bodies will repose till, at the summons of the archangel’s trump, the sea shall give up the dead that are in it. According to the most accurate estimate which can be made, forty-two were killed, and forty severely wounded. Light wounds were not counted. There was no accurate account taken of the killed and wounded on board the Serapis. The surgeon’s report to the British Admiralty, gives the number of wounded at seventy-five, but does not give the number killed. Captain Pearson states that there were many more wounded than appears on the surgeon’s list. Captain Jones, who had the best opportunity for knowing, and who was not given to exaggeration, estimates the killed at one hundred, and the wounded at about the same number.
Captain Landais, of the Alliance, was court-martialed for his atrocious conduct. There can be no reasonable doubt, from the evidence given on his trial, that he hoped the Serapis would conquer and capture the Bon Homme Richard. During the conflict he kept entirely out of harm’s way, so that not a shot struck him. After the Richard had surrendered Captain Landais intended to come forward, attack the Serapis exhausted and shattered by its previous conflict, and with her guns dismounted and encumbered by the wounded and the dead, and thus make an easy conquest of the British ship and rescue her prize. He could thus retire with glory, dragging the Serapis and the Bon Homme Richard in his train. Finding it a little doubtful whether the Richard would yield, he concluded to help the Serapis. Three of his officers declared that Landais[Landais] said to them:
“I should have thought it no harm if the Bon Homme Richard had struck her flag. That would have given me an opportunity to take the Serapis and to retake her.”
I must now leave Landais, for the present, though I shall have occasion to refer to him again. The Baltic fleet escaped. The fact is easily explained from the loss of the Richard, the crippled state of the Serapis, with both main-mast and mizzen-mast dragging at her sides, and the treacherous conduct of Landais. Jury-masts were erected upon the Serapis, and for ten days the shattered ship was tossed on the stormy waves of the North Sea. Captain Jones was striving to reach Dunkirk, the most northerly and consequently the nearest seaport in France.
In the extreme northwest of Holland there is a somewhat renowned island called the Texel. It is about thirteen miles long and six broad, and is situated near the mouth of the Zuyder Zee, or South Sea, as that portion of the German Ocean is called. It is nearly two hundred miles north of the most northerly frontier of France. Contrary winds, and the extremely suffering state of the prisoners and his wounded, rendered it necessary for him to run into that neutral port.
Captain Jones never made any complaint respecting his own hardships. But while upon this eventful campaign his toils, responsibilities, and anxieties had been such that during the whole time he had never indulged in more than three hours’ sleep in the twenty-four. The news of the capture of the Serapis spread rapidly through Europe and America. The haughty attitude England had ever assumed had rendered her unpopular with all other nations. Consequently there was a general rejoicing over the great victory of Captain Jones. It was something new for England to lose one of her finest frigates in a fairly fought battle with an inferior force.
It is said that this terrible battle between the Bon Homme Richard and the Serapis was more noised abroad over the world than any naval conflict ever engaged in, in ancient or modern times. It was a marvel to all Europe to see an English ship of war, hitherto generally supposed to be invincible, strike to a frigate of the feeble colonies of America, which had, as yet, scarcely a national name and whose flag was unknown. The superiority of the British ship, both in build and in armament, the treacherous conduct of Landais, and the desperate resistance of both parties, apparently to the last possible degree, excited astonishment and admiration both in the Old World and the New. Captain Jones was the hero of the day. His name was upon all lips. The enthusiasm in Paris was almost boundless. Dr. Franklin wrote to him under date of October 15th, 1779:
“For some days after the arrival of your express, scarce anything was talked of at Paris or Versailles but your cool conduct and persevering bravery during that terrible conflict. You may believe that the impression on my mind was not less strong than on that of others, but I do not choose to say, in a letter to yourself, all I think on such an occasion.”
He informed Captain Jones that he had written to Landais, informing him that he would have an opportunity, before a court-martial, to answer the charges of disobedience of orders and neglect of duty which had been brought against him. As it was impracticable immediately to organize a court-martial, he was for the time relieved from the command of the Alliance. He added: