On the way to Nantes, in France, the Ranger captured two prizes, refitted at Brest, and in April, 1778, sailed for the British coast.  Having made several captures, Captain Jones headed for the Isle of Man, his intention being to make a descent upon Whitehaven.  A violent wind that night baffled him, and, hoping to prevent his presence in the section from being discovered, he kept his vessel disguised as a merchantman.  Sailing hither and thither, generally capturing all vessels that he sighted, he finally turned across to the Irish coast and in the latter part of the month was off Carrickfergus, where he learned from some fishermen that the British sloop-of-war Drake was at anchor in the roads.  Jones was exceedingly anxious to attack her, and planned a night surprise, but again the violent wind interfered and he was forced to give up the scheme, so well suited to his daring nature.

This brave man now set out to execute one of the most startling schemes that can be imagined.  Whitehaven at that time was a city of 50,000 inhabitants and the harbor was filled with shipping.  His plan was to sail in among the craft and burn them all.  It seemed like the idea of a man bereft of his senses, but there was not the slightest hesitation on his part.  Such enterprises often succeed through their very boldness, and his belief was that by acting quickly he could accomplish his purpose and strike a blow at England that would carry consternation to the people and the government.

Captain Jones had in mind the many outrages committed by British vessels along our seacoast, for, describing his purpose in a memorial to Congress, he said his intention was, by one good fire in England of British shipping, “to put an end to all burnings in America.”

CHAPTER V.

A Daring Attempt by Captain Paul Jones—­Why It Failed—­A Bold Scheme—­Why It Did Not Succeed—­The Fight Between the Ranger and Drake.

Paul Jones waited until midnight.  Then, when no one was dreaming of danger, his men silently pulled away from the Ranger in two boats, one commanded by himself and the other by Lieutenant Wallingford.  It was a long pull, and when they reached the outer pier of the harbor it was beginning to grow light in the east.  They now parted company, and Jones directed his men to row for the south side of the harbor, while the Lieutenant was to make for the north shore.  The object of the two was the same:  the burning of the shipping.

Wallingford reached the north side, and then, strangely enough, gave up the attempt, his reason being that the candle on which he counted to start the fire was blown out.  The reader must remember that in those days matches were unknown and the task of relighting had to be done with the steel, flint and tinder.  Though the contrivance is an awkward one, we cannot help thinking the excuse of the Lieutenant was weak, but the result was a failure on his part to carry out the important work assigned to him.