“The British ship of war Drake, mounting twenty guns, with more than her full complement of officers and men, was our opponent. The ships met, and the advantage was disputed with great fortitude on each side for an hour and four minutes, when the gallant commander of the Drake fell, and victory declared in favor of the Ranger. The amiable lieutenant lay mortally wounded, besides near forty of the inferior officers and crew killed and wounded; a melancholy demonstration of the uncertainty of human prospects, and of the sad reverses of fortune, which an hour can produce. I buried them in a spacious grave, with the honors due to the memory of the brave.
“Though I have drawn my sword in the present generous struggle for the rights of men, yet I am not in arms as an American, nor am I in pursuit of riches. My fortune is liberal, having no wife nor family, and having lived long enough to know that riches cannot secure happiness. I profess myself a citizen of the world, totally unfettered by the little, mean distinctions of climate or of country, which diminish the benevolence of the heart and set bounds to philanthropy. Before this war was begun, I had, at an early time of life, withdrawn from sea-service in favor of ‘calm contemplation and poetic ease.’ I have sacrificed not only my favorite scheme of life, but the softer affections of the heart, and my prospects of domestic happiness; and I am ready to sacrifice my life also with cheerfulness, if that forfeiture could restore peace among mankind.
“As the feelings of your gentle bosom cannot but be congenial with mine, let me entreat you, madam, to use your persuasive art with your husband, to endeavor to stop this cruel and destructive war, in which Britain can never succeed. Heaven can never countenance the barbarous and unmanly practice of Britons in America, which savages would blush at, and which, if not discontinued, will soon be retaliated on Britain by a justly enraged people.
“Should you fail in this, and I am persuaded you will attempt it, (and who can resist the power of such an advocate,) your endeavors to effect a general exchange of prisoners, will be an act of humanity, which will afford you golden feelings on your death-bed.
“I hope this cruel contest will soon be closed; but should it continue, I wage no war with the fair. I acknowledge their force, and bend before it with submission. Let not, therefore, the amiable Countess of Selkirk regard me as an enemy; I am ambitious of her esteem and friendship, and would do any thing consistent with my duty to merit it.
“The honor of a line from your fair hand, in answer to this, will lay me under singular obligation; and if I can render you any acceptable service in France or elsewhere, I hope you see into my character so far as to command me, without the least grain of reserve. I wish to know the exact behaviour of my people, as I am determined to punish them if they have exceeded their liberty.”
This vain, Quixotic, and inexplicable epistle, is a perfect illustration of the character of the writer; but with all its egotism and chivalry, it did not produce the wished for answer from the “fair hand of his amiable countess.”
It could not be for one moment supposed that Lady Selkirk would condescend to answer a letter couched in such terms of gross familiarity. The plate, after many difficulties and delays, was finally restored, some seven or eight years after it was taken. The French government being at this time on the eve of embracing the American cause, overwhelmed Jones with congratulations upon his late achievements. He received a letter from the French Minister, offering him the command of the Bonhomme Richard, with permission to choose his own cruising ground, either in the European or American seas, and to cruise under the flag of the United States. Jones accepted the offer, and accordingly prepared to form his crew by enlisting raw French peasants and volunteers, having only thirty Americans in the whole, these he transferred from the Ranger, with Johnson, our veteran sailor. He commenced his cruising on the coast of Norway, from thence to the west coast of Ireland, during which he made many valuable prizes.
He now determined to cruise around the English coasts, to intercept the colliers bound to London, many of which he destroyed. It was during this cruise that he was joined by the Alliance, the Pallas, and the Vengeance, these, with the Richard, formed the squadron of which he was commander. On the 23d of September the squadron was standing to the northward, toward Flamboro Head, with a light breeze, when they discovered a fleet of forty-one sail running down the coast, very close in with the land. Jones soon discovered that this was the Baltic fleet which he had been so anxious to encounter, but had never before had the chance. This fleet was under convoy of the Serapis, a new ship, mounting forty-four guns, and the Countess of Scarborough, of twenty guns. Early in the evening the Serapis was observed to haul round and place herself between her convoy and the Richard, as if preparing to engage her; she soon came within pistol-shot, when the captain of the Serapis demanded, “What ship is that?” and in reply, a shot was fired from the Richard. This was the commencement of a battle more famous for stubborn courage and heroic daring than perhaps the world ever knew. The biographers of this eccentric but gallant officer have so often described this triumphant conflict, that we shall content ourselves with a few incidents with which our veteran sailor was more immediately connected. He relates that the Richard suffered severely at the first of the battle, till Jones ordered his ship to be laid across the hawse of the enemy; in doing so the two ships swung broadside and broadside, the muzzles of the guns touching each other. Jones sent one of his men to lash the two ships together, and commenced with his own hand in making fast the jib-stay of the Serapis to the Richard’s mizenmast; when the sailors saw what he was about to do, Johnson, with two others, ran to his assistance, and soon performed the task. The firing continued from the starboard sides of both vessels for more than an hour, the effect of which was terrible to both ships. There was much skirmishing with pistols and pikes through the ports, but no effort was made from the Serapis to board the Richard, although they must have observed her crippled condition, she had begun to leak fast.
It was near ten o’clock when the Richard had sunk considerably from the water she had received through the shot-holes, which was now below the surface. Some of the subordinate officers believing that she was sinking, cried out lustily for “Quarter!” when Jones, in great anger, threw a pistol at one of them, which he had just discharged at the enemy, fractured the poor fellow’s skull, and sent him reeling down the hatchway. Jones ordered all the hands that could be spared to the pumps, and shortly after the Serapis surrendered. At this moment there was much confusion, as several of the crew, who were Englishmen, and near their homes, took advantage of the mêlée to desert in a small boat toward Scarborough. Our hero well remembers seeing one of the lieutenants of the Richard appear on the deck and present several of the officers of the Serapis to Commodore Jones as prisoners.