Scott and the Veteran.

BY BAYARD TAYLOR.

An old and crippled veteran to the War Department came:
He sought the chief who led him on many a field of fame,—
The chief who shouted, "Forward!" where'er his banner rose,
And bore its stars in triumph behind the flying foes.

"Have you forgotten, general," the batter'd soldier cried, "The days of eighteen hundred twelve, when I was at your

side?

Have you forgotten Johnson, that fought at Lundy's Lane? 'Tis true I'm old and pension'd; but I want to fight again."

"Have I forgotten," said the chief, "my brave old soldier? No!

And here's the hand I gave you then, and let it tell you so; But you have done your share, my friend; you're crippled, old,

and gray,

And we have need of younger arms and fresher blood to-day."

"But, general," cried the veteran, a flush upon his brow, "The very men who fought with us, they say, are traitors now. They've torn the flag of Lundy's Lane, our old Red, White, and Blue;

And, while a drop of blood is left, I'll show that drop is true.

"I'm not so weak but I can strike, and I've a good old gun, To get the range of traitors' hearts and pick them one by one. Your minie rifles and such arms it a'n't worth while to try; I couldn't get the hang of them; but I'll keep my powder dry!"

"God bless you, comrade!" said the chief; "God bless your

loyal heart!

But younger men are in the field, and claim to have their part: They'll plant our sacred banner in each rebellious town,

And woe henceforth to any hand that dares to pull it down!"

"But, general," still persisting, the weeping veteran cried, "I'm young enough to follow, so long as you're my guide; And some, you know, must bite the dust, and that at least can I: So give the young ones a place to fight, but me a place to die!

"If they should fire on Pickens, let the colonel in command
Put me upon the rampart, with the flag-staff in my hand:
No odds how hot the cannon smoke, or how the shells may fly,
I'll hold the Stars and Stripes aloft, and hold them till I die!

"I'm ready, general, so you let a post to me be given Where Washington can see me, as he looks from highest heaven,

And says to Putnam at his side, or may-be General Wayne, There stands old Billy Johnson, that fought at Lundy's Lane!

"And when the fight is hottest, before the traitors fly, When shell and ball are screeching and bursting in the sky, If any shot should hit me, and lay me on my face,

My soul would go to Washington's and not to Arnold's place."

14*

Paul Jones, and the Navy of the Revolution.

(EXTRACT FROM MR. MURDOCH'S LECTURES.)

IN these days of degeneracy and disloyalty, as expressed in the rebellious South and in the sympathy the rebellion has met with at home and abroad, it is a pleasing duty to bring forth and review the generous acts of those men who came from foreign countries and imperilled property and life to aid our fathers in protecting and perpetuating the rights of man. Foremost among these brave men stands Paul Jones, whose noble devotion to the cause of freedom has won for his name an imperishable record in our naval history.

Commodore Paul Jones was born in Scotland. His father, a respectable man in the lower walks of life, could only afford him a moderate education for a boy twelve years old. Having fed his roving fancy with tales of adventure gleaned from the old sailors who frequented the ship-yards and lounged in the nautical haunts along the shores of Solway Frith, near his home, he resolved at that age to visit America. Circumstances favored his intentions; and here he passed several years of his life. He became engaged in commerce, and studied navigation. This he carried into practical experience during two or three voyages to the coast of Africa; and, after holding several important commands in the commercial marine, he tendered his services to the infant navy of the Colonies,-satisfied that their cause was the cause of justice and of right, and anxious to distinguish himself as a defender of that which his conscience approved and to which his generous and heroic sympathies directed him. We first find him commanding

the Ariel, one of the two ships that constituted the navy
of Congress at that time. Jones was now twenty-eight
years of age. The historian claims for him the honor of
raising, with his own hands, the flag of independent Ame-
rica on board the Ariel, in the Delaware River, the first
time it was ever displayed on board a regular American
vessel of war. From the Ariel he was transferred to the
Ranger, and bore in her to France despatches of the vic-
tory of Saratoga. While in a French port, he received
from the French commander the first salute that was ever
given to the American flag in a foreign port.

In 1778, he made a descent on the English coast, sur-
prising a garrison and capturing a fort, destroying shipping,
and taking a king's ship, called the Drake, in Carrickfergus
Bay, throwing the coasts of Ireland and Scotland into
consternation, and causing the British Government great
expenditure in fortifying their harbors. We now approach
the most daring exploit of this truly great character.

In company with a fleet of vessels fitted out in France,
by the assistance of the French Government, aided by the
exertions of Benjamin Franklin, we find him at sea, prey-
ing on the English commerce, and boldly attacking the
ships of the enemy wherever met.

September 2, 1776, Paul Jones, in the Bonhomme
Richard, in company with the Pallas and the Alliance, fell
in with the returning Baltic fleet of merchantmen, under
convoy of the king's ships, the Serapis, forty-four guns,
and the Countess of Scarborough, twenty-two guns. These
ships at once signalled the merchantmen to keep on their
course, while they boldly stood out to sea, inviting an action.
The battle was fought on the eastern coast of England, off
Flamborough Head, at night, the moon occasionally lighting
the combatants. Paul Jones, in the Bonhomme Richard,

fought the Serapis, while the Pallas engaged the Scarborough. The Alliance frigate, under the command of Captain Landais, a Frenchman,-who, from his record, must have been either a madman or a traitor to the cause he had espoused, kept aloof during the greater part of the fight, only coming in towards its close, to fire broadside after broadside in such a direction as to injure the Bonhomme Richard as much, if not more, than the enemy,-in fact, leaving it doubtful against which vessel he had aimed his guns. After a severe fight, the Scarborough struck her flag to the Pallas.

Paul Jones, who had maintained a desperate conflict with his antagonist, despairing of conquering him at long range, on account of the disabled condition of many of his guns, and of the inferior calibre of the remainder, now determined to run the Serapis aboard. This bold manœuvre was successfully accomplished, and, lashing his ship to that of his foe, he continued the fight, as sailors say, "yard-arm to yard-arm," the gunners on the lower decks of both vessels actually fighting through the port-holes to prevent one another from ramming home the charges of their guns.

Some of the lower-deck cannon on board the Richard burst in the earlier part of the action, tearing up the decks above in a frightful manner. During a momentary lull in the firing, occasioned by this accident, the British commander hailed, and demanded whether the Richard had surrendered, to which Paul Jones replied, "No: we have not yet begun to fight." Striding from point to point, the hero might then be seen, now on the deck slippery with blood, now in the shrouds, trumpet in hand, calling away his boarders to hurl them on the deck of the . enemy, stimulating his crew to renewed efforts by words of fiery courage, and leading in the van of every danger.