Paul Jones, the Privateer—A Story of his Boyhood—He joins the American Revolutionists—Attempt to Burn the Town and Shipping of Whitehaven—Foiled—His Appearance at St. Mary’s—Capture of Lady Selkirk’s Family Plate—A Letter from Jones—Return of the Plate several years after—A Press-gang Impressed—Engagement with the _Ranger_—A Privateer Squadron—The Fight off Scarborough—Brave Captains Pearson and Piercy—Victory for the Privateers—Jones dies in abject Poverty—A Nineteenth Century Freebooter—Benito de Soto—Mutiny on a Slave Ship—The Commander left ashore and the Mate Murdered—Encounters the _Morning Star_—A Ship without a Gun—Terror of the Passengers—Order to spare no Lives—A terrified Steward—De Soto’s commands only partially observed, and the Ship saved—At Cadiz—Failure of the Pirate’s Plans—Captured, Tried, and Hanged at Gibraltar. A celebrated character now appears on the scene; and the writer must avow that Paul Jones has hardly been treated fairly in many works of fiction(8) and so-called history. He was not a pirate in the true sense of the word, although very generally regarded as such, but was a privateer, employed by colonies rebelling against the mother country. John Paul—for such was his real name—was born on the estate of Lord Selkirk, near Kirkcudbright, Scotland, in 1728, his father being head gardener. Young Paul worked with his father for some length of time, and there is a story recorded of the elder Paul which showed him to possess a good sense of humour. In the gardens were two summer-houses, exactly alike in build and size. One day Lord Selkirk, while strolling about the walks, observed a young man locked up in one of the summer-houses and looking out of the window. In the other house young Paul appeared, looking out of the corresponding window. His lordship inquired why the lads were confined, to which the gardener replied, “My lord, I caught the rascal stealing your lordship’s fruit.” “But,” said the nobleman, “there are two of them. What has your son done? is he also guilty?” “Oh no, please your lordship,” old Paul coolly replied, “I just put him in for the sake of symmetry!” But it appears that afterwards young Paul got himself in serious trouble, and deserved to have been locked up in some stronger place than a summer-house, and on other grounds than symmetry, and after some specially knavish trick he was dismissed from his employment, and almost immediately took to a seafaring life. He speedily rose to be mate, and soon after master. In 1777, when the rupture broke out between America and Great Britain, he was in New England, and he immediately enlisted among the revolutionists, who appointed him commander of the _Ranger_ privateer, mounting eighteen guns and several swivels, and manned with a picked crew of 150 hardy men.