Famous Privateersmen and Adventurers of the Sea Part 32

Walker believed in athletic exercise and made his sailors continually practice both gunnery and work with the cutla.s.s. They were always in training and always prepared. That is the reason why they won. As you know, if you want to win in athletics you have to train hard and practice daily. If you want to win at warfare you have to do likewise.

The most athletic nation is the nation which will win in the long fight, providing that it has sufficient resources and money to carry out a war, once that it has placed its men in the field. It takes a great deal of money to fight a war, but it takes trained men also, and those who are the most fit will win every time.

The English are an athletic nation, an island nation, and great numbers of her people have had to follow the sea as a matter of course. Hence England has always had a vast quant.i.ty of well-trained seamen at her beck and call. For this reason she has been more successful upon the ocean than many of her neighbors. Will she continue to be?

_If she continues to breed men like George Walker there is little reason to doubt that she will always be a winner in sea fighting._

As for this famous mariner, little is known of his later life save that he was once imprisoned for debt, but this was no disgrace in those times and I am sure that he was soon liberated. He died September 20th, 1777, but where he was buried is not known, nor is there any record of his marriage. At any rate he has left the reputation of a brave and valiant seaman who was beloved by his men, feared by his enemies, and appreciated by his contemporaries.

"Britannia's glory first from s.h.i.+ps arose; To s.h.i.+pping still her power and wealth she owes.

Let each experienced Briton then impart, His naval skill to perfect naval art."

BIVOUAC OF THE DEAD

Their silvered swords are red with rust, Their plumed 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: From "The Army and Navy of the United States."

AMERICAN PRIVATEER TAKING POSSESSION OF A PRIZE.]

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! s.h.i.+ver 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.

s.h.i.+ver 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 n.o.bleman. 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 s.h.i.+ps 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 a.s.sistance 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 ash.o.r.e 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 wars.h.i.+p 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 gra.s.s; with 2,000 acres of strong, first-growth timber." He had a grist-mill; a mansion; overseer's houses; negro quarters; stables; tobacco houses; thres.h.i.+ng 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 _Friends.h.i.+p_, 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 ama.s.sed 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 a.s.siduously, 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:

Upon one of his many voyages, the crew was reduced, by fever, to five or six hands. One of them was a huge mulatto named Munro--or "Mungo"--Maxwell. They became mutinous, and, as Captain Jones was the only officer who could keep the deck, it was found necessary to subdue the refractory seaman.

"Will you obey my orders?" cried Jones, picking up a belaying pin.

"You go sit down," cried Maxwell. "I no like you. _Pis.h.!.+_ I could kill you with one crack."

John Paul Jones did not answer, but walking towards the big black, he struck him just one blow with his pin. "Mungo" dropped to the deck and lay there. He never rose again.

Upon arriving at port, Captain Jones surrendered to the authorities, and asked for a trial. It was given him.