er April 10, 1778, and, after
taking several unimportant prizes on the way to the Irish Channel,
decided to make a descent upon the town that had served him as
headquarters when he was a merchant sailor, Whitehaven, where he knew
there were about two hundred and fifty merchant ships, which he hoped to
destroy; "to put an end," as he said, "by one good fire, in England, of
shipping, to all the burnings in America."

Owing to contrary winds Jones was unable to make the attack until
midnight of April 22. His daring scheme was, with the small force of
thirty-two men in two small boats, to land in a hostile port, defended
by two forts, surprise the sleeping inhabitants, and burn the ships
before the people could assemble against him. By the time the boats
reached the outer pier, day had dawned and no time was to be lost. The
forts were surprised and taken, the guns spiked by Jones with his own
hand; but while he was thus occupied his officers had failed to fire the
shipping, in accordance with his orders, Lieutenant Wallingford stating
as an excuse that "nothing could be gained by burning poor people's
property." Jones thought otherwise, however; and although the
townspeople were beginning to assemble in consequence of the pistols
that had been fired in capturing the forts, he made fire in the steerage
of a large ship, closely surrounded by many others, and an enormous
conflagration ensued. He stood, pistol in hand, near the burning wreck,
and kept off the constantly increasing crowd until the sun was an hour
high, when he and his men retired to the Ranger, taking away with them
three of the captured soldiers, "as a sample," Jones said, and followed
by the eyes of the gaping multitude of English country folk.

Although the amount of property destroyed by this raid was small, the
importance of it was considerable, and is well stated by Jones himself,
who, if proper allowance is made for the effects of his vanity, is, as a
rule, his own best biographer: "The moral effect of it was very great,"
he writes, "as it taught the English that the fancied security of their
coasts was a myth, and thereby compelled their government to take
expensive measures for the defense of numerous ports hitherto relying
for protection wholly on the vigilance and supposed omnipotence of their
navy. It also doubled or more the rates of insurance, which in the long
run proved the most grievous damage of all."

On the same day Jones made a descent on