BIVOUAC OF THE DEAD
Their silvered swords are red with rust, Their pluméd heads are bowed; Their haughty banner, trailed in dust, Is now their martial shroud. And plenteous funeral tears have washed The red stains from each brow, And the proud forms, by battle gashed, Are free from anguish now.
Yon marble minstrel's voiceless stone In deathless song shall tell, When many a vanished age hath flown, The story how ye fell: Nor wreck, nor change, nor winter's blight, Nor Time's remorseless gloom, Shall dim one ray of glory's light That gilds your deathless tomb.
JOHN PAUL JONES
THE FOUNDER OF THE AMERICAN NAVY
(1747-1792)
"Every generation has its own war. To forget the disagreeable is a characteristic of the human mind."--The Philosopher.
JOHN PAUL JONES
THE FOUNDER OF THE AMERICAN NAVY
(1747-1792)
"Why! Shiver my bones! It's John Paul Jones! Johnny the Pirate! Johnny should swing! Johnny who hails from Old Scotlant y' know, Johnny who's tryin' to fight our good King. Shiver my Timbers! We'll catch the old fox! Clew up those top-sails! Ware o' th' shoals! Fire 'cross his bow-lines! Steer for th' rocks! Ease away on the jib-boom; shoot as she rolls!
"Oh! Johnny, my Johnny, you're slick as can be, But, Johnny, My John, you'll be nipped present-ly."
--Song of the English Privateers.--1794.
A French frigate lay in the silvery water off Norfolk, Virginia, and, as she swung quietly upon her anchor chains, a small sloop came bobbing alongside. A hail arose from her stern, where sat a man of about twenty-eight years; of medium stature, strongly built and swarthy. He was dressed in the gray clothing of a Virginian planter.
"Hallo," he shouted in very good French. "May I come aboard?"
"Certainement! Certainement!" cried a French officer, as he neared the rail. "Welcome, Monsieur Jones!"
And, as the Virginian farmer scrambled upon the deck, he was greeted most effusively by a handsome nobleman. It was Louis Philippe Joseph, Duke de Chartres; known as "the Sailor Prince of France." The Virginian was John Paul Jones, of "Whitehaven" upon the river Rappahannock.
"I bring you delicacies of the season from my garden," said the planter, smiling. "Some for you, and some for the commander--the Commodore de Kersaint. I trust that you will accept them, with my kindest regards. Meanwhile, I beg that you will give me leave to inspect your vessel and obtain information in regard to her plan, construction of the hull, arrangement of the batteries, her spars, her rig and other technical particulars. For, know you, Gentlemen, that war has just commenced between Great Britain and her Colonies and the newly-formed Marine Department of the Government will require a knowledge of ships and their construction. Partly for this I have visited you."
Kersaint's face grew sober.
"Monsieur Jones," said he, "I have just heard the news from Lexington and I am the senior officer upon this coast. France is at peace with England. The situation for me is a delicate one. I must refuse to allow you to sketch any plans of my vessel."
But the young Duke de Chartres looked upon the matter in a different light.
"You shall have all the assistance from me that you wish," he cried. "I do not fear the displeasure of England."
So the Virginian planter was allowed to obtain the most complete data of the new frigate, even to copies of deck plans and sail spread, which he caused his carpenter to make. John Paul Jones was the guest of the Frenchman for two or three days.
"And now you will visit my plantation," said he, when the time came for him to leave. "Is it not so? For there I can repay some of the kindnesses which you have shown me."
"That we cannot do," replied the French commander. "It would be most impolitic for us to accept entertainment ashore from persons known to be hostile to King George. But we thank you, exceedingly, for your kind offer."
So John Paul Jones proceeded alone to his plantation, and the French warship sailed for Corunna, Spain, after firing one gun as a salute to the new-born nation.
The son of a Scotch gardener of Arbigland, Parish of Kirkbean, the youthful farmer had emigrated to America, where his brother owned the large plantation upon which he now resided. He found his kinsman dying of what was then called lung fever--in our time pneumonia--and, as he willed him his Virginian possessions, Jones was soon residing upon "3,000 acres of prime land, on the right bank of the Rappahannock; 1,000 acres cleared and under plough, or grass; with 2,000 acres of strong, first-growth timber." He had a grist-mill; a mansion; overseer's houses; negro quarters; stables; tobacco houses; threshing floors; thirty negroes of all ages; twenty horses and colts; eighty neat cattle and calves; and many sheep and swine. Thus lived the future sea-captain; in peace, plenty, and seclusion, at the outbreak of the American Revolution.
John Paul Jones had gone to sea at the early age of twelve. As a master's apprentice upon the stout brig Friendship, he had sailed from Scotland to the North American Colonies, the West Indies, and back again. He had kept to his seaman's life, and--so improved in knowledge of his profession--that he became second mate; then first mate; then Captain. At twenty-one he had amassed a fortune of about one thousand guineas ($5,000) in gold,--then equal, in purchasing power, to three times this sum. Besides this he had studied French and Spanish assiduously, so that he could speak the first like a native. It was to be of great help to the ambitious mariner. And he had plenty of nerve, as the following incident bears full witness:
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