Patton says patriot, not privateer

I get at least one John Paul Jones inquiry a week. Jones only spent 18 months in New Hampshire, but he his brief visit is turning into a lifetime of work for me. I've become his answering service, at least until the next historian comes along. Years ago I gave a talk entitled "How John Paul Jones Stole My Life". He's still at it.

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Most letters are from people named Jones, determined that they are descended from the captain with the famous name. Of course, most are not, as I never cease to point out, because his name was not Jones and he had no (legal at least ) descendants. The second largest group of contactees believe they may own something of great value -- usually a tattered reproduction flag, an old document, old weapon, old book or painting. The guy on the mountain in California had a nice painting and sent a photo.

I'm handicapped in this regard by a total lack of knowledge about art and about sea battles. Naval war paintings all look the same to me. One ship is in better shape than the other. The sea rages. Smoke furls. Flags flutter. This particular image looked very familiar, and even I could tell from the scan that it wasn't old, certainly 20th century, and possibly an amateur copy or a print on textured paper. Novices often believe that a painting in a gilt wooden frame is as old as the battle itself -- as if the painter was stationed on a nearby ship recording the event on canvas like an early photographer for the AP.

Since I was distracted with family troubles, I sent the picture to the smartest maritime guy I know. Melbourne Smith has designed dozens of naval vessels from the Niagra to the Pride of Baltimore. I was embarrassed to receive his quick reply. My reader was the proud owner of a knock-off of one of the most famous paintings in the JPJ canon (that's cannon with one "n"). It showed a John Paul Jones ship all right, as depicted more than a century after the famous captain had died by Edward Moran. The 1898 painting is Moran's imagined view of the Ranger, built at Portsmouth, NH. The painting is on the cover of Joe Sawtelle's book and I've probably seen it a thousand times. It shows the French salute to the Ranger off Quiberon Bay on February 14, 1778, reportedly the first foreign recognition of American sovereignty.

Sitting for hours among the bleeping machinery deep within the ICU of Falmouth Hospital, I passed a few hours reading. I downloaded a copy of "Patriot Pirates" by Robert Patton onto my Kindle and let the robot voice read to me through a dangling set of earphones. Patton, of course, mentions Portsmouth, NH more than a dozen times. He is kind to our John Langdon, picturing him less as a privateer, than as one of the few patriots who tried to work by the rules that he himself helped devise for the evolving Continental Navy. He describes Langdon as a "prickly patriot", mellow and righteous in comparison to the "The Browns" or Rhode Island who tired to squeeze every nickel out of the Revolution. Langdon certainly profited too, but he risked more and paid his dues by kicking off the war and serving in various government posts at great risk to life and limb.

John Paul Jones too comes off more patriot than pirate, although the author's research tends toward the most modern popular accounts and he relies on the new biography of Jones by Evan Thomas. Although Jones has long been called a pirate and soldier of fortune by some, Patton places Jones clearly in the category of patriot (albiet a patriot from another country) who spurned the privateers as gold-diggers who valued money above liberty. An odd sentiment, perhaps, for a man who made his early fortune as a slave trader. But by the Portsmouth period in his life, and I think Patton is right, Jones was more in search of glory than money. He should be happily rolling around in his tomb at Annapolis over his treatment in Patton's book. And as soon s we get home, I'll see Captain Jones has received any more fan mail.


Copyright (c) 2009 by J. Dennis Robinson. All rights reserved.