When the Americans in Paris and the French tried to convince the brave little captain that it would be dangerous for him to go out with but one ship, he replied that he liked nothing better than “going into harm’s way,” and he finally went. He waited outside an English port till the warship Drake came out. The British commander stared at the new flag, for he had never seen it before. “What ship is that?” he asked. “It is the American ship Ranger.” Some one on the Drake made fun of the new flag, saying it looked like a patchwork quilt. “Very well,” retorted Captain Jones, “we will cover your Union Jack with it, then.”
The battle between the Ranger and the Drake lasted just one hour and four minutes. When it was over, the Drake had lost her captain and first lieutenant and thirty-eight men, killed and wounded, while the loss on the Ranger was only two killed and six wounded.
When Captain Jones returned to the shores of France he brought with him the Drake as a prize, with a goodly crew of British prisoners to exchange for Americans. As he had promised, the Stars and Stripes were at the Drake’s masthead over the British flag. There was no trouble then about saluting the American flag. All France and America went wild over this victory. In fact, nearly every nation under heaven—excepting Great Britain—was greatly pleased with the escapade of brave little Captain Jones.
Of course, Captain Jones had just had enough to make him long to be “going into harm’s way” on a larger scale. But France now had her own troubles with England. She needed all the ships and men she could raise to make a navy able to beat the big fleet Great Britain was getting ready for a great naval battle. Still, Captain Jones would not be put off. With Doctor Franklin’s help the French found him a poor old ship which they told him to arm and man and go ahead with. Jones did his best, but the foundry did not fill his order for cannon, and he was obliged to take some old guns which were too heavy for the positions he had to give them. It was bad enough to be forced to fight the whole British navy with a poor, slow, rotten old hulk with out-of-date guns, but the men he had to take to do the fighting were worse. Among them were Portuguese and Malays who could not understand orders in either French or English; but, worst of all, there were a hundred or more English prisoners, who would watch their chance to stab or shoot the few Americans in command, and surrender the ship to their own countrymen.
Dr. Benjamin Franklin’s “Poor Richard” almanac had been published as a French book, under the title of “Bonhomme Richard,” or “Goodman Richard.” So Jones, in compliment to his genial friend and helper, named his newly-made-over ship, Bonhomme Richard. Before he got this craft ready, several French commanders and crews wished to join him. These men were not capable commanders, but they had better ships and crews than Captain Jones, the one man best able to use them to advantage.
When Jones started out with the Richard, he was followed by a sort of private fleet, among which were the Alliance and the Pallas. The commanders of the other ships refused to obey orders unless they happened to feel so disposed. Most of the other ships got lost or started off, like pirates, after prizes for themselves, so that when Jones met the leading ships of the British, there were only the Richard, the Alliance, and the Pallas left.
When the three ships came round a high point called Flamborough Head and saw there the British men-of-war, Serapis and Countess of Scarborough, Commander Jones ordered the Pallas to engage the Countess while he, with the Richard, tackled the Serapis.
The commander had one lieutenant, Richard Dale, an American who had escaped in the most mysterious way from an English prison. Without the heroic aid of this officer Jones might have lost the day—or the night, for the battle did not begin until dark. There were hundreds of people on the shore watching the fight. At the very beginning they saw—and heard—the old cannon on the Richard bursting and killing nearly all the gunners and powder-boys serving them.
Meanwhile the Serapis, which was a brand-new ship with twice the number and weight of guns that Jones had, was raking the Richard fore and aft, and shooting great, ragged holes in her sides. The sea came pouring into the ship and the British prisoners came running up, yelling frantically, “We are sinking!” By sheer force of will and fear of eye, Paul Jones and Richard Dale drove those excited Englishmen back into the hold to work the pumps, as though they would pump the North Sea dry.
Jones sailed his ship close to the Serapis, intending to catch hold of its side with hooks called grappling-irons. This made it possible for the men on both ships to fight hand to hand. The Richard came alongside with such force that a spar which stuck out at the side (called the jib-boom) was driven into the ropes which held the mast nearest the stern of the Serapis (called the mizzenmast). The grip which Captain Jones now had on the Serapis was like that of a Boston bulldog who has an English mastiff by the throat. If one ship went down, the other would have to go too.