The siege promised to be tedious, and D’Estaing’s patience was worn out. The obstructions in the narrow part of the channel prevented his fleet from approaching the shore; and he now became afraid that one of those hurricanes common to this season might drive it out to sea, or it might be attacked by the British while so many of his guns and troops were otherwise employed. Full of impatient fears, he insisted upon the town being carried by assault; and on the 9th of October, two columns, the picked men of both armies, were led to the assault by D’Estaing and Lincoln. It was a fatal step; by a strange mistake, the attack that was to be made at four in the morning was delayed till broad daylight; and the garrison directed their guns with fatal aim upon the advancing assailants. Some of the outer works were taken, but the most fearful carnage marked every step. At length, Pulaski, at the head of his legion, was mortally wounded, and the Americans fled; D’Estaing received two wounds, and the French were repulsed with great slaughter.
The loss of the French and the Americans was about 1,100, that of the British only fifty-five. On the 18th the siege was raised, and D’Estaing, as soon as he could re-embark his troops, set sail for the West Indies. Lincoln returned to Charleston, and the militia were disbanded. It was the most disastrous attempt which had been made during the war. This second failure at co-operation with the French caused still greater dissatisfaction.
Among others who fell at Savannah was that Sergeant Jasper who had distinguished himself so gallantly in the defence of Fort Moultrie, on Sullivan’s Island, in 1776. Moultrie’s regiment had been presented with a stand of colours, by a Mrs. Elliot, embroidered by her own hands; and Jasper, as a reward of his own individual merit, had received a handsome sword from Governor Rutledge. During the assault of Savannah, two officers having been killed in endeavouring to plant these colours, and a third wounded, Jasper seized them and was in the act of planting them, when he too fell mortally wounded. Pulaski, severely wounded, was carried on board a vessel for Charleston, but he died on the way, and was buried beneath the waves. Funeral rites were performed at Charleston, and all America mourned for him who had been one of the truest and bravest supporters of her cause.
The appearance of D’Estaing on the southern coast suspended all active operations at New York, in the apprehension of a formidable concerted attack by sea and land, from the combined French and American forces. Washington also, on his part, expected this co-operation, and had prepared himself for it by calling out the militia of the northern provinces; it being supposed by all parties that Savannah would soon surrender, and D’Estaing then proceed northward. Clinton took active measures for the strengthening of New York, and so momentous was the crisis considered, that the troops were withdrawn from Newport, in Rhode Island, as well as from Verplank’s and Stony Points, all of which were thus again suffered to fall into the hands of the Americans. When, however, it was clearly ascertained that D’Estaing was gone, Sir Henry Clinton, relieved from any apprehension regarding the north, set sail for Savannah with 7,000 troops, 2,000 of whom were American loyalists, while the same number remained behind under Kniphausen, who held New York with a powerful garrison. The militia of the northern provinces was disbanded; and Washington, anxious for the future, and disappointed and disgusted by the conduct of his allies, went into winter-quarters near Morristown.
Although the American efforts at naval warfare were now considerably diminished, owing to the increased vigilance of the British squadron, and to want of funds on the part of the colonies; still many armed vessels, both public and private, were on the seas, and a considerable amount of the French loan was employed in the fitting out of cruisers in the French ports.
It was in the autumn of this year that the renowned sea-fight took place, which made the name of Paul Jones one of terror in the British seas. Paul Jones was a native of Scotland, who emigrated to America, made money and in 1773 settled in Virginia. On the breaking out of the war, he was one of the first officers commissioned in the American navy. He cruised in the West Indies, picked up many prizes, and showed on all occasions great boldness and address. In 1777 he was sent to France, and there appointed to the command of a French ship under American colours. The next year, cruising on the coast of Great Britain, from the Land’s End to Solway Frith, where as yet the American flag had never ventured, he made a descent on the Scotch coast near Kirkcudbright, and plundered the house of the Earl of Selkirk, where, tradition says, he had once lived as servant, and a second by night on the Cumberland coast, at Whitehaven, where he spiked the guns in the fort, and burned one or two vessels. For a whole summer he kept the north-western coast of England and the southern coast of Scotland in a continual state of alarm, and made his name one of terror. The next year he returned to cruise on the eastern coast, no longer with a single ship, but a squadron, manned by French and Americans. This squadron consisted of the Bonhomme Richard, of forty guns, which he himself commanded, the Alliance of thirty-six, the Pallas, a frigate of thirty-two, and two other smaller vessels. Cruising with these ships, he fell in with a British merchant-fleet, on its return from the Baltic, under convoy of Captain Pearson, with the Serapis, of forty-four guns, and a smaller frigate; and one of the most desperate naval engagements on record took place off Flamborough Head. About seven o’clock in the evening, Paul Jones in the Bonhomme Richard, engaged Captain Pearson in the Serapis, the ships advancing nearer and nearer, until at length they dropped alongside of each other, head and stern, and so close that the muzzles of the guns grated. In this close contact the action continued with the greatest fury till half-past ten, during which time, Jones, who had the greater number of men, vainly attempted to board, and the Serapis was set on fire ten or twelve times. Every time the fire was extinguished, till at length, a cartridge of powder taking fire, a great number of officers and men were killed. After a desperate and last attempt to board Paul Jones, Captain Pearson hauled down his colours, two-thirds of his men being killed or wounded, and his main-mast gone by the board. The Bonhomme Richard was in little better condition, for, to add to her misfortunes, the Alliance coming up in the darkness and confusion of the night, and mistaking her for the enemy, had fired a broadside into her, not discovering his error till the glare of the burning Serapis had revealed it. The next day, Paul Jones was obliged to quit his ship, and she sank at sea almost immediately, with, it is said, great numbers of the wounded on board. Of the 375 men whom she carried, 300 were killed or wounded. The Pallas captured the Countess of Scarborough, and Jones, on the 6th of October, succeeded in carrying his shattered vessels into the waters of the Texel.[[28]]
The gloom which overspread the public mind at the close of this year had its origin in many causes, not the least of which was the disappointment arising from the French alliance. Not alone had the French been useless to the republican cause, as far as their own efforts went, but this alliance with a powerful nation, from which such great advantages were expected, had disposed a considerable portion of the American public to sink into an apathetic state, waiting, as it were, for others to do the work; and now that the others had not done it, they were depressed and almost hopeless of the cause itself. This despondency and apathy alarmed the earnest patriots, and Washington and the other leaders called upon the nation in the most earnest and solemn manner to rouse from their lethargy, and trust neither to chance nor to strangers, but to their own exertions for the establishment of their rights. There was but little response to the appeal; the very army itself seemed affected by the lethargic torpor of the public mind.[[29]]
Another cause of anxiety and distress we have already alluded to. This was the depreciation of the paper currency. At the close of this year a dollar in specie could scarcely be obtained for forty in bills. But the very paper was fluctuating in value. Hence a set of men arose, who, speculating on this currency, amassed immense wealth, while honest men and the nation itself were reduced to beggary. One cause of the depreciation of the American paper at this time, was the disgraceful fact that England herself turned forger, and sent over immense quantities of spurious hills, so well imitated as scarcely to be distinguished from the true, and which her emissaries distributed through the country, causing the utmost distress and confusion, and the recall of several issues of American paper.
Very different was the state of things in England. Spite of her having to carry on war at this time both with France and Spain, and though several of the European nations joined in an “armed neutrality” against her, renewed exertions were made at the close of this year for prosecuting the war with the colonies. Eighty-five thousand marines, and 35,000 troops, in addition to those already engaged, were voted by parliament for the following year, together with the enormous sum of five millions for carrying out this service.
Admiral Arbuthnot had been sent from England in the spring with reinforcements, but did not arrive at New York till August. In December, his fleet conveyed Sir Henry Clinton and his 7,000 troops to the south, and after a tempestuous voyage, landed them at Tybee Island in Savannah harbour, on the last day of January, 1780.