The Life and Adventures of Rear-Admiral John Paul Jones, Commonly Called Paul Jones

by John S. C. Abbott

“I have no account to render to you. You can have five minutes to decide whether you will come on board of me or not.”

Jones held his watch in his hand. The frigates were lying nearly abreast and within thirty feet of each other. The tops of both vessels were filled with sharp-shooters, and the gunners, with lighted matches, stood at the batteries. The moment the five minutes had elapsed, Jones ran up the Stars and Stripes, and hurled a full broadside, within pistol-shot, into the Triumph. It was then past seven o’clock in the evening. Daylight had completely faded away. Starlight and the flash of the guns alone lighted the combatants in their dreadful conflict. The crew of the Ariel was inspired with the indomitable energies of its commander.

The Triumph instantly returned the fire of the Ariel. It is said that the vigorous and regular fire, from the top and batteries of the Ariel, had never been exceeded. Such a conflict could by no possibility last long. The flash and the roar of this tempest of war were incessant. Every bolt was death dealing. The massive irons balls tore through and splintered the oaken timbers, smashed gun carriages, tumbled about the massive ordnance, and strewed the decks with lifeless bodies and dismembered limbs. There was not one moment’s intermission. Blow followed blow instantaneously. Amidst darkness and sulphurous smoke, and the angry gleam of the flashing guns, there were ghastly wounds, and gushing blood, and death—misery and inconceivably awful ruin. It was one of those scenes in this lost world, which has led many to inquire, “Can hell exceed this?”

Ten minutes of this horrible carnage settled the question. Pindar struck his colors and cried out for quarter, saying that one half of his men were killed. Instantly the Ariel stopped fire. The men, abandoning the batteries and running down from the tops, clustered on the deck, and gave three cheers in token of their victory. When a ship thus surrenders, and calls for and accepts quarter, she is considered as a prisoner of war is considered, who has given his word of honor not to attempt to escape. With a few more broadsides Jones might have sunk the Triumph, which was preying upon American commerce. And it was his duty to have done this, rather than allow her to escape.

But relying upon the honor of the English commander, he accepted the unconditional surrender. The Triumph was not injured in her sails or rigging. In the confusion of the moment, when the dead covered the decks and the wounded were being hurried below to the care of the surgeon, and the guns of the Ariel were abandoned, the treacherous captain, watching his opportunity, suddenly spread every sail, and commenced running away with all speed. Jones was astonished at this perfidy. He immediately spread every sail in pursuit. But the Triumph was much the swiftest sailor, and soon got out of gun-shot, and disappeared in the darkness. In the account which Commodore Jones gives of this conflict, in the journal which he sent to the king of France, he wrote:

“In a minute I ordered the firing to cease. And there were several huzzahs on board the Ariel, as is usual after a victory. But a minute afterwards the captain of the Triumph had the baseness to fill his sails and run away. It was not in my power to prevent this, the Triumph sailing much faster than the Ariel. But if the British government had that feeling of honor and justice which becomes a great nation, they would have delivered up to the United States that frigate as belonging to them; and would have punished, in the most exemplary manner, her captain for having thus violated the laws of war and the customs of civilized nations.”

On the 18th of February, 1781, Paul Jones arrived at Philadelphia, having been absent from America three years, three months, and eighteen days. He now received what was to him an ample reward for his past years of toil and care. The renown of his exploits had spread through the land. No one in the army or the navy had acquired more celebrity. Even Mr. Lee, who had now himself quarrelled with Landais, and had become convinced that he was insane, joined in the laudations of Commodore Jones. The Board of Admiralty condemned the course of Mr. Lee, and sustained Jones. In a report which the Board made to Congress, on the 2d of November, 1781, it was said:

“It appears that Captain Landais regained command of the Alliance by the advice of Mr. Lee, notwithstanding his suspension by Dr. Franklin, who, by the direction of the Marine Committee, had the sole management of our marine affairs in Europe.”

Congress had already passed a resolve, stating, “That the thanks of the United States, in Congress assembled, be given to Captain John Paul Jones, for the zeal, prudence, and intrepidity, with which he has supported the honor of the American flag; for his bold and successful enterprises to redeem from captivity the citizens of these States, who had fallen under the power of the enemy; and, in general, for the good conduct and eminent services by which he has added lustre to his character and to the American arms.”

General Washington, with his customary circumspection, wrote to him: “Whether our naval affairs have, in general, been well or ill conducted, would be presumptuous in me to determine. Instances of bravery and good conduct, in several of our officers, have not, however, been wanting. Delicacy forbids me to mention that particular one which has attracted the admiration of all the world, and which has influenced the most illustrious monarch to confer a mark of his favor, which can only be obtained by long and honorable service, or by the performance of some brilliant action.”