Next morning—a beautiful, bright day—Paul Jones sent word to the French admiral that he intended sailing through the French fleet in the brig and again saluting him, to which the admiral returned a courteous reply.
About ten o’clock in the morning Paul Jones went on board the Independence, which then stood boldly in the harbor. She was a beautiful, clipper-built brig, and as clean and fresh as hands could make her. A splendid new American flag floated proudly from her mizzen peak.
The French fleet was anchored in two great lines, rather wide apart, with the flagship in the middle of the outer line. The Independence, with all her canvas set, entered between the two rows of ships. Her guns were manned, and Paul Jones, in full uniform, stood on the quarter-deck. As the Independence came abreast of the flagship the brig fired thirteen guns with the most beautiful precision and with exactly the same interval between each report. The admiral paid the American the compliment of having his guns already manned, and as the little Independence passed gracefully down the line, enveloped like a veil in the white smoke from her own guns, the flagship roared out nine guns from her great thirty-six-pounders. Paul Jones’s satisfaction was seen on his face, although he said no word; but as soon as he returned on board the Ranger he wrote to Franklin a joyous letter, telling him of the honor paid the American flag.
From this on the relations between the officers of the French fleet and the two American vessels were most cordial. The Frenchmen had heard of Paul Jones as an enterprising and promising officer, and his running under the guns of the Solebay had become generally known in Europe, much to the chagrin of the Solebay’s officers. The Count d’Orvilliers, one of the highest officers in the service of France, thought that, as France and America were bound to be shortly allied, that it would be well for Paul Jones to hold a captain’s commission in the French navy as well as an American commission. But this he declined. An American commission was good enough for Paul Jones.
CHAPTER VI.
It was upon the 10th of April, 1778, that Paul Jones sailed from Brest upon the first of his two immortal cruises.
The respect with which he had been treated, and the dignity he maintained, had had great effect upon the officers and men under him. They knew neither the time nor the place of the enterprise they were entering upon; but that it was bold and venturesome they were well assured. The seas were swarming with British cruisers, and alone among this multitude of enemies the little Ranger sailed gallantly. As she passed out of the harbor of Brest the sailors on the French ships gave her a ringing cheer, to which the Americans responded.
Paul Jones then called his officers around him, and his daring words were plainly audible to many of the men.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “I propose to steer straight for the Irish Sea. What my plans are I shall tell you when we are in sight of the three kingdoms. I know every foot of the narrow seas, and every bay, inlet, and headland on the shores of Scotland and Ireland. Give me your full support, and we shall return covered with glory.”
A shout of applause greeted these brave words.