When it was submitted to the younger officers, all received it with ardor.
“If these captains had but the dash and enterprise of their juniors anything could be attempted,” remarked Paul Jones to Lieutenant Dale. Dale shrugged his shoulders.
“The French have lost more ships through prudence than the British through rashness,” was his significant answer.
Paul Jones then made every preparation for the descent. De Chamillard, who had proved himself a brave and resolute man, was to take the terms of capitulation and ransom to the magistrates of Edinburgh. One half hour exactly was to be given them to provide two hundred thousand pounds or its equivalent. The gallant young Dale was to command the landing party.
The Frith of Forth was then entered, and on the 15th of September the ships were seen distinctly beating up the Frith. The alarm was general among the inhabitants, who knew the mighty name of Paul Jones, and who prepared as well as they could to meet him. Batteries were erected, and the citizens were served with arms from Edinburgh Castle. A little boy, ten years old, who was in Edinburgh then, well remembered the alarm and commotion, and often spoke of it afterward. This was Walter Scott.
One man, however—a member of Parliament—took it into his head that the Bon Homme Richard was a British cruiser, whose mission was to destroy the daring American. He therefore sent a boat with a messenger, asking that some powder and shot be sent him so that he might defend himself against the notorious Paul Jones. The commodore received the messenger politely on the quarter-deck, with several officers around him.
“Tell your master,” he said, “that I send the powder very cheerfully—Mr. Dale, will you have a barrel hoisted out?—and regret that I have no shot suitable for this powder.” As the powder was of no use without the shot the member of Parliament was no better off with it than without it. Nevertheless, the messenger did not have wit enough to see that he was being gulled, and accepted the barrel very thankfully. The men on deck, who saw through the ruse, grinned broadly while they were very zealous in getting the powder over the side. Bill Green, however, who had been talking with the men in the boat, touched his cap and spoke aside to Paul Jones:
“If you please, sir, that ’ere duck-legged chap, he’s a pilot, sir.”
“I am glad you told me,” answered Paul Jones: and, approaching the man, he said carelessly: “My fine fellow, I shall be on and off this coast looking for Paul Jones for some days, and I shall want a pilot, so I think I shall have to keep you.”
“All right, sir,” answered the man, touching his cap; and, calling out to his mates in the boat, he cried: “Tell Ailsa I have got a job of piloting, and she need not expect me till she sees me.”