me better than any other fellow she knew. I was fairly aching to be worthy of her, to make my place in the world for her. I wasn't conceited enough to think she loved me. I was only hoping that some dayAny man has a right to do that, has he not?" It was not easy for the mother to say what she wished to tell him, but at length her response was:

"I don't want you to think I am criticising her, or sitting in judgment, but you must not let her mar your faith and hope and happiness. I want to help you to guard those precious gifts. You must not blame her too much. You have been believing that she understood you, because you would have it that way. She is no older than you, a girl of twenty, accustomed to a wholly different life than yours. She was flattered by your attention, for you were a great man in her eyes. She liked you because no one can help

liking you. But it made a difference when you were a hero knocked off his pedestal. And yet you expected to find in her sympathy, a balm that even your mother could not give. Poor lad, mothers are handy sometimes, but most boys do not find it out until their mothers are gone from them."

"I thought I knew her so well," said he, after another silence. "It looks as if I had amused her and nothing more. But I have found you, and I have fallen head over heels in love with you, Little Mother, all over again, and I am going to kiss you right under this electric light."

Even yet she was not sure that she had sounded the depths of the ache in his heart, but as she looked up at the light in his campus rooms, she said softly:

OME time after the publication of the "History of Paul Jones, Founder of the American Navy," by the house of Scribner, I received a letter from Bradford Kilby, Esq., a prominent member of the Virginia bar, informing me that his father, Judge Wilbur J. Kilby, of Suffolk, Va., had in his possession an unpublished narrative written by his great-grandfather, John Kilby, who served under Paul Jones in the Bon Homme Richard, and afterward in the Alliance, 1779-80.

The name of John Kilby was familiar in the roster of the Bon Homme Richard, in the published narratives of his shipmates, and in public documents relating to prizemoney afterward. Shipping at l'Orient in July, 1779, as ordinary seaman, he soon became able seaman, and then petty officer (quarter-gunner, or gunner's mate). His career derives additional interest from the fact that he was one of the American prisoners of war exchanged in the spring of 1779 for the crew of the Drake; his earlier service having been in a privateer whose fate he relates in his narrative. His record as a seaman in the Richard and the Alliance was perfect. Altogether he was an admirable type of the genuine American sailor of those days—a type which, though numerically a minority of the Richard's crew, was the predominant moral and mental factor and the leaven of daring enterprise and unconquerable resolution that enabled Jones to gain his immortal victory.

The Americans on board the Richard numbered only 147 in a total of 375 at the beginning of the cruise, and 128 in a total of 325 in the battle off Old Flamboro Head. Of these a considerable majority were, like John Kilby, exchanged or escaped prisoners of war; at least eighty at the be

ginning, and not less than seventy in the battle itself. Among them were Richard Dale, John Louis White, Samuel Stacey, John Mayrant, Nathaniel Fanning, Henry Gardner, Thomas Potter, and many others of their kind; and John Kilby, though only a "man before the mast," was by no means least of them in value or honor.

In my "History of Paul Jones," Vol. I, pages 173-174, I state, from the records of Jones himself, that the total number of exchanged or escaped prisoners of war he enlisted at Nantes, in July, 1779, was 114; and that "about half of them were the remnant of the Lexington's crew (a sloop-of-war of the Continental Navy), captured more than a year before;" also that "the rest were men · taken in privateers . . . or in recaptured prizes." To this last-named class, as will appear in his narrative, John Kilby belonged.

Further, on page 175 of the same volume, I venture the suggestion that "this force formed the fighting backbone of the Richard's final crew. What she did with them aboard is the plainest kind of history. What she might have done, or have failed to do without them, it is neither useful nor pleasant to conjecture."

After the Revolution, John Kilby followed the sea in the merchant service, where he rose to the rank of master mariner and became one of the most competent and successful captains of his day. When he retired from active sea-service, he settled in Hanover County, Virginia, where he died on the 9th day of February, 1826. In 1810 he was induced by Mr. Thomas Ritchie, familiarly known as "Father Ritchie," a distinguished editor and politician of those days, in Richmond, Va., to write out his recollections of the imperishable events in which he had borne such a hearty hand.

The Narrative speaks for itself. Its style is plain, simple, and rugged, yet terse, explicit, and always to the point. Consid

ering that he wrote thirty years after the events he describes, wholly from memory, and with little or no opportunity of reference to books or documents, the historical accuracy of his general recital is extraordinary. In fact, the only errors that the most exhaustive student of history in these later times can detect-with all the then buried official and documentary evidence before him--are occasional instances of confusion, or lapse of memory, as to the first names of individuals; and these are hardly half a dozen in number throughout. There are also a few errors in the spelling of names: as, for example, he spells Landais, "Landas," and a few other cases like that; none of which affect the historical value of his text.

With this introduction, prepared at his request, and partly upon information furnished by him, Mr. Bradford Kilby, in behalf of his father, offers the veteran's recollections just as they were written nearly a hundred years ago; such explanations being added by myself, here and there, in footnotes, as seem necessary to reconcile the author's unimportant lapses of memory or of orthography with standard history. Mr. Bradford Kilby has also added several notes as indicated.

AUGUSTUS C. BUELL.

THE NARRATIVE

HANOVER COUNTY [VA September, 1810.

MR. THOMAS RITCHIE,

Dear Sir:-You have many times requested me to give you a full account of the conduct and behavior of the brave honorable John Paul Jones, as also of my sufferings during the Revolutionary War, and as often have I neglected to comply with that request, all of which I beg leave to apologize to you for, but now will endeavor to give you a correct statement of his, the said Jones, behavior and conduct during the time I had the pleasure to sail with and under his command, which was nearly one and a half years; having followed the sea from my early days. On the 6th day of August, 1776, in the Town of Vienna, Dorchester County, Maryland, the place of my birth (date of birth, 15th September, 1758), I, with many more, entered on board of the

brig, Sturdy Beggar, of fourteen double fortified six pounders,* and to be manned with one hundred men. The brig belonged to Messrs. Lucks, Baley, and Provines, of Baltimore, was then lying at Newberne, North Carolina, and was to be commanded by James Campbell. We went up to Baltimore, where we lay eight days. Then went down the bay under the command of First Lieutenant William Garlin, Second Lieutenant Benjamin Chew, Sailing-master Gabriel Slakum, Prize-masters George Sampel, Jesse Harding, Robert Ewart, and many more officers of lower rank. On our way down the bay we were pursued by the enemy and compelled to put into a place, called Chesconnessex, on the Eastern Shore of Virginia, where we lay eight days. At length we arrived in Portsmouth, near Norfolk, Virginia, where we lay three days. Then we set out and arrived at North Landing, Virginia, at which place we all remained eight days, waiting for craft to take us on. Then we set off and arrived at Newberne, North Carolina, where the brig then lay. At this place we found our Captain, James Campbell, the commander. We then dropped down to Ocracoke Bar. A lighter was to bring down our guns, because we could not get over the Bar with them on board. The lighter on her way down sunk with all our guns on board, which detained us some time. At length we got them on board and sailed on a cruise. Campbell shaped his course for the Bay of Biscay. On the 15th day of November, 1776, we fell in with a double-decked brig, called the Glasgow, from Glasgow bound to St. Johns, New Foundland, loaded with King's naval stores. We engaged her and after one and one-quarter hours action, captured her. The sailing-master, Gabriel Slakum, was put on board, she being a valuable prize, with orders to get in any friendly port that he could. On the first day of December, same year, we fell in with the ship called

The Sturdy Beggar was a brig of 180 tons, old measurement built about two or three years before the outbreak of the Revolution. She had been used in the whale fishery, and had carried a cargo or two of tobacco and other products of the Chesapeake region to England. When she was converted into a privateer in 1776 her name as a merchant vessel-which had been the Dolphin, of Ann Arundel-was changed to the somewhat rugged designation under which

she passed into history and--as will appear in the narrative

-to the bottom of the sea.

The "double-fortified six pounder" was a gun of that calibre cast with a "reinforce" on the breech, reaching nearly to the trunnions, to resist the strain of "double-shot

ting with round-shot and grape, or langrage, or doubleduced in naval ordnance.

headed bar-shot, which at that time had recently been intro