Paul Jones

by Molly Elliot Seawell

As soon as the Ranger was out of sight of land every effort was made to disguise her as a merchantman. Her guns were hid, and her white sails were daubed with lamp-black, to give the idea of being old and patched. The crew was kept below as much as possible, to be out of sight, and in this guise she made boldly for St. George’s Channel.

On the night of the 14th of April, while standing in between Cape Clear and the Scilly Isles, the lookout on the quarter sang out, “Sail, ho!”

The sail was a fine, large brigantine, which allowed the strange ship, which she took for a merchantman, to approach quite near her, as if to pass on the opposite tack. Suddenly the strange ship doubled on her quarter and came bearing down upon her, and at the same moment a blank cartridge was fired across her bows. The brigantine hove to in obedience to this peremptory command, and hailed the approaching Ranger. To this hail the sailing master of the Ranger replied:

“This is the United States ship Ranger, and you are her prize.”

Resistance was useless. The ship contained a valuable cargo, but no attempt was made to take anything except what could be easily transferred to the Ranger. Paul Jones had determined not to fire the ship, lest her burning should attract other vessels that swarmed the narrow seas, and thereby raise an alarm on land. Therefore he sent the carpenter and all his mates on board to scuttle her. The captain and crew of the brigantine were brought off, and the carpenters went to work with a will. In two hours from the time that she had been sailing confidently along, unsuspicious of an enemy, the brigantine had disappeared from the face of the ocean.

Three days now passed in cruising about St. George’s Channel. So great was the number of ships, both men-of-war and merchantmen, in sight and passing at all times, that Captain Jones did not consider it prudent to attack, because no man excelled Paul Jones in the prudence of the valiant. Several times during those three days and nights vessels that would have been valuable prizes were close under the guns of the little Ranger, but the presence of a frigate or two or other ship of war in the distance made an attack impracticable. Back and forth for three days and nights Paul Jones sailed dauntlessly among a multitude of enemies, thus venturing boldly into the very nest of the hornets. On the evening of the third day, the 17th of April, a large merchant vessel was seen off the coast of Ireland. No ship of war was in sight, and the Ranger therefore gave chase. Within an hour or two the vessel was overhauled, almost at the mouth of the Liffey. A blank cartridge fired across her bows and the Ranger’s hoisting the American ensign brought her to. She proved to be the Lord Chatham, fast and new, bound for Dublin.

“We can not sink so good a ship as this,” said Paul Jones to his first lieutenant. “And, besides, the scheme I have in view does not permit us to encumber ourselves with prisoners. She will answer excellently to carry our prisoners back to Brest.”

A prize crew and an officer were therefore thrown on board the Lord Chatham, the prisoners transferred, and she was carried off when almost within sight of her port. Paul Jones then put out to the open sea again, and steered straight for the coast of Scotland.

On the 18th of April, a beautiful, mild evening, he entered the Frith of Solway. It was the first time his eyes had rested on it, except for one brief and unhappy visit, since his childhood. He was now an American officer, of the highest rank possible to give him in the infant navy of the colonies, and it was his plain duty to use the knowledge he had of the Scotch coast in the service of his country.

The port of Whitehaven, on the opposite side of the Solway, was the point Paul Jones meant to attack. Here was collected a great company of shipping, estimated at between two and three hundred sail. The Ranger was, as usual, closely disguised, and excited no suspicion as she entered the Solway. The evening was beautiful and bright, but as the sun went down the indications of a hard squall became evident. The furious tides rushed in, driven by a rising gale from the Irish Sea, and the wind blew directly on shore.