Hero of the High Seas: John Paul Jones and the American Revolution

" 'Criticizing and censuring almost every one you have to do with, will diminish friends, increase enemies, and thereby hurt your affairs.' " --Benjamin Franklin's advice to John Paul Jones on getting along with others. In Paris one hundred and one years ago, a crew of workers with picks and shovels entered a laundry in Paris and began digging in the basement. Back at the end of the eighteenth century the city had occupied a smaller area and where the laundry sat in 1905 was where a cemetery had, a century prior to then, been situated outside of town. The planning phase of the operation had apparently been carried out with great skill, for the workers soon succeeded in unearthing what they were seeking: a heavy lead coffin filled with alcohol and the well-preserved body of American Revolution naval hero John Paul Jones. Thanks to President Teddy Roosevelt's being an avid naval historian, John Paul Jones (or at least his pickled body) was belatedly returned to America with great ceremony and was buried in a handsome crypt at the US Naval Academy. I, myself, knew nothing of substance about John Paul Jones and thus knew nothing of the significant naval aspects of the American Revolution. (Who knew there were significant naval aspects to the American Revolution? Even the rebellious colonists could be forgiven for not knowing, considering that, "The Continental Navy began with no warships, no men, and no money.") But nevertheless, the quick-to-anger, full-of-himself John Paul Jones, who assumed the role of the squeaky wheel, succeeded in obtaining the rank he desired, the ships he needed, and proceeded to make such a nuisance of himself off the coast of Britain that the British had to devote some of their resources to protecting their own shoreline from the Scottish native turned American patriot. John Paul, who first came to live in America in the aftermath of a dicey situation in which he killed a rebellious merchant sailor under his command, altered his name and arrived in the colony of Virginia just as the colonies were gearing up for War. As Michael L. Cooper tells the tale of the Scottish gardener's son who became a revolutionary hero, the reader is treated to a wealth of action and gore on the high seas, along with a well-trimmed accounting of how Jones' life and career fit into the events preceeding, and events of, the American Revolution. HERO OF THE HIGH SEAS could well serve as a model for the exemplary trade informational text that is appropriate for a diversity of readers. Within its 121 pages there are a wealth of primary source materials, an abundance of illustrations and graphics, and clear explanations of the ships, the War, and all aspects of the man. In those portions of the tale that could especially be of great interest to the young history aficionado, such as the frequently amusing communications by, and about, the scoundrel, err...I mean naval hero, the story never once bogs down in a manner that woul

Picture me at age twelve. Now picture me at age twelve given a school assignment to read a biography of a Revolutionary War hero that is at least 100 pages long. Now picture me at age twelve staring in horror at the biography section of my local library. That fate, strange as it may seem, is repeated regularly all around the United States of America and it's enough to give any sane soul nightmares for weeks on end. As a kid I was not a non-fiction fan. If it didn't have anything to do with albinos (this is true) I wasn't interested. So I hold Michael L. Cooper's, "Hero of the High Seas", in my hands and attempt to show it to my twelve-year-old self, who still resides somewhere in the left-hand corner of my brain. Me 28: What do you think? It looks kind of neat. Me 12: Is that a map on the cover? Me 28: Oh calm down. Like you've never looked at a map before. Now open it up. See all the cool photos inside? Me 12: Everything's brown. Why is everything brown? Me 28: That's not brown. It's called "sepia". Come on. Read the first chapter. I know you'll like it if you do. Me 12: Uh... who's Senator John McCain? Me 28: No, no. Not the Foreword. Read the next part. Me 12: Oooh. An Introduction. How thrilling. Me 28: Put a lid on the sarcasm, young lady. Skip that too. Me 12: Make up your mind. Me 28: Just read Chapter One. Me 12: (all huffy now) Fine. (long pause). It's okay. Which, as far as I can ascertain, is the highest praise my non-non-fiction self could have come to praising this book. It's probably not a title for every kid you know, but as bios of Revolutionary War heroes go, a person could find much drier fare covering the same information. At least in this case you get floggings, accusations of murder, swordfights, mutiny, and all of that is just in the first seven pages. John Paul Jones was, according to Herman Melville, "intrepid, unprincipled, reckless, predatory, with boundless ambition, civilized in external but a savage at heart." All the characteristics, as it happens, that make for the best biographies. And Mr. Cooper, all praise deserved, knows just how to best display his heroically flawed subject. Let's cover the basics right off the bat. He was born John Paul in southwest Scotland in 1747. And as his father was just a gardener, John decided to better his lot in life by becoming a sailor right from the start. He rose quickly to prominence and was the captain of his own ship at the remarkably young age of 21. Then came an unfortunate incident in the Caribbean and Jones (as he now was known) came to America to start anew. With the dawn of the Revolutionary War, the man became notorious for his risky behavior and his sometimes foolhardy courage, both contributing significantly to the legend that now surrounds him. As such, author Michael Cooper meticulously separates fact from fiction while managing to retain the aura of heroism surrounding this notable American figure. Michael Coope