John Paul Jones’s victory over HMS Serapis in 1779 was widely celebrated. A contredanse called “La Paul Jones” was printed in Paris and English balladeers produced the following vicious attack on their leaders in a slip ballad that seems to date before the end of the war.[1]
Paul Jones. A New Song, to the tune of Stick a pin there.
Of Heroes and Statesmen I’ll just mention four,
They cannot be match’d, if we trace the world o’er,
For none of such fame ever stept o’er the stones
As G[rafto]n, Jemmy Twitcher, Lord N[or]th, & Paul Jones.
Through a mad-headed war, which old Eng[land] will rue,
At London, at Dublin, and Edinburgh too,
The tradesman stand still, and the merchant bemoans
The losses he meets with from such as Paul Jones.
Contractors about this bold rebel harangue,
And swear if they catch him the traytor they’ll hang;
But ’mongst these, devourers of ten per cent loans,
Are full as great robbers as any Paul Jones.
How happy for England, would Fortune but sweep
At once all her treacherous foes to the deep!
For the land under burthens most bitterly groans,
To get rid of some that are worse than Paul Jones.
To each jolly heart that is Briton’s True Friend,
In bumpers I’ll freely this toast recommend:
May Paul be converted, the Ministry purg’d,
Old England be free and her enemies scourg’d!
If success in our fleets be not quickly restor'd,
The leaders in office to shove from the board,
May they all fare alike, and the de'el pick the bones
Of G[rafto]n, Jemmy Twitcher, L[or]d N[or]th, & Paul Jones.
While this song lumps Jones with the leading cabinet members pursuing the American war, in a way, he comes off positively. This broadside song in the Thomas collection, titled “Paul Jones’s Victory,” is laudatory of Jones, written as though by an American sympathizer in England. Speaking directly to Jones, the poet declares:
Your country will boast of Tars that’s so brave,
And to you she will look in dangers to save.
(verse 12, omitted in many later exemplars)
Both the text and the intended tune present puzzles. The earliest known American poem about Jones’s exploits is a long lyric by Philip Freneau entitled “On the Memorable Victory” (1781).
O’er the rough main with flowing sheet
The guardian of a numerous fleet,
Seraphis from the Baltic came;
A ship of less tremendous force
Sail’d by her side the self-same course,
Countess of Scarboro’ was her name.
(Philadelphia Freeman’s Journal, August 8, 1781)
Compared to Freneau’s sophisticated lines, the broadside text sounds remarkably like other graphic sea battle songs of the War of 1812 period. From the many variant texts that appeared in England and America in the early nineteenth century there must have been a new song about Jones’s victory circulating among street singers. The language and irregularities in the metric flow suggest that this ballad was written in the popular idiom. The versions on this broadside and White’s other broadside of the same title are the earliest in print and may be close to the original text.
They are nearly identical in layout, illustrations, and paper to Captain Hull’s Victory, and thus were probably printed after August 1812 by Joseph White. Even though the broadside looks almost the same, the second version of the text is from quite a different source, with significant changes in words and word order, even with omitted and added verses. A somewhat improved variant of the same text appears in An Interesting Life, Travels, Voyages . . . John Paul Jones (1809; 34-35). Coverly’s later version on the sheet added to the Thomas collection is identical to White’s thirteen-verse version with the grammatical error “if we can’t do no better boys” corrected.
No period tune with this title can be found. This is odd, given the wide popularity of the text. In the 1812-14 period, a dozen or more songs were published either “to the tune of Paul Jones’s Victory” or most likely set to the tune, which suggests a recently popular fad. A number of these are in the Thomas collection and have a commonality of expression suggesting a single author.[2]
Yet no tune with this name has emerged until twentieth-century folk-song collectors began to record many different tunes sung by their informants as “Paul Jones’s Victory.” None of these can be documented to the period of the song. The only contemporary tune suggestion is “Stick a Pin There” for the text above beginning “Of heroes and Statesmen, I’ll just mention four.” None of the myriad editions and variants of this broadside text that were widely printed throughout the nineteenth century in England and America have any tune indication at all (Cazden, Haufrecht, and Studer, Folk Songs 65; Roud; Laws A4; Ford, Broadsides #3004, #3005, #3094).[3]
The fiery Jones (1747-92) was born in Scotland as John Paul and apprenticed to a merchant shipper. After several adventures as a midshipman, a slaver, and with a mutinous crew, he immigrated to Virginia and changed his name to John Paul Jones. In the fall of 1775, he received a commission as senior lieutenant in the new Continental navy, raising the new Grand Union flag in USS Alfred on December 3. After several successful cruises, Jones was sent to France in USS Ranger. Given permission to cruise in European waters, he took several British prizes and was hailed as a hero in France. In August 1779 he sailed in USS Bon Homme Richard and subsequently engaged HMS Serapis in the battle described in this ballad.
Naval historian and former commander of the USS Constitution Tyrone G. Martin describes the details of the affair, details that differ in some parts from the Thomas ballad:
John Paul Jones’s victory over HMS Serapis on September 23, 1779, was widely celebrated because it was almost the only bright spot in the record of the Continental Navy. Largely ignored in the apparent success is the fact that the Baltic convoy of naval stores, the destruction of which was Jones’s objective, escaped unscathed.
Curiously, the author of the broadside has the battle beginning at noon and lasting for ‘eight glasses’ (four hours). In fact, the fight began under a rising moon at 7:15 P.M. and ended seven glasses later at 10:40 PM. It was fought with only the gentlest of breezes to move the ships, and so was an agonizingly slow ballet until the combatants fouled one another and just lay together shooting each other to bits. The lucky toss of a grenade from one of Jones’s fighting tops bounced through the Briton’s hatch and exploded in powder cartridges on his lower deck, ending the fight.
The twenty-gunner twice mentioned was the corvette HMS Countess of Scarborough, the other convoy escort. She was engaged by Jones’s squadron mate, Pallas. In recognition of his successful defense of the convoy Captain Pearson of Serapis was knighted. Huffed Jones, who longed for titles himself, most immediately that of admiral, ‘Let me fight again and I’ll make him a lord!’ Jones’s gold medal, the first awarded a naval officer by the Congress, was not enough. He became an admiral, but only by hiring himself out to the Russian Navy. Over the subsequent centuries, five ships of the US Navy have borne his name. (Gilkerson; Morison)
The action-packed narrative of the song “Sterret’s Sea Fight” jumps right into the middle of the battle. The music was written by Irish composer (Charles) Thomas Carter (ca. 1740-1804) for a lyric by Isaac Jackman (active 1777-95) in The Milesian (1777) (Schnapper 169). Published in Philadelphia around 1790, the original text was adapted in verse 2 and the final line to laud Sterret and his victory in 1801 (Enchanting 32; Vocal Remembrancer 174-75). The original text appeared in eight songsters between 1794 and 1817 (R. Keller).
Commander Martin describes the battle:
Lieutenant Andrew Sterret’s command, the schooner USS Enterprize (12 guns), was the smallest unit of the first American squadron sent to the Mediterranean by President Thomas Jefferson to defend American shipping from the depredations of the Barbary pirates, specifically, those from Tripoli. In keeping with Jefferson’s basically pacifist ideas, the squadron had been severely restricted by orders that it was to take no overt action unless attacked or unless a pirate was found in the act of assailing an American merchant ship.
On August 1, 1801, Sterret was attacked by the fourteen-gun Tripoline polacre Tripoli.[4] A three-hour battle ensued, during which time Sterret outmaneuvered each of his foe’s attempts to board and managed to rake him repeatedly. Twice, the Tripoline falsely struck his colors and then resumed the action when he thought he had Sterret at a disadvantage. Twice, he learned he was mistaken. The third time his banner came down—with his mizzen mast shot away—it was to stay down. In accordance with orders to leave the pirate unarmed and with only enough resources to get home, Sterret had all the Tripoline’s cannon and small arms thrown overboard, together with all spare sails and most of the provisions.
When news of Sterret’s action reached Washington, the Congress voted him its thanks and a sword, and a month’s extra pay was provided for his officers and men. His Tripoline foe, on the other hand, was mounted on a jackass and bastinadoed through the street of Tripoli by an enraged Bashaw. In the two hundred years since the event, three units of the later US Navy have borne the lieutenant’s name. (G. Allen; Tucker)