Chatham County GaArchives History .....Savannah Duels - Chapter III ************************************************ Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/ga/gafiles.htm ************************************************ File contributed for use in USGenWeb Archives by: Joy Fisher http://www.genrecords.net/emailregistry/vols/00001.html#0000031 October 25, 2004, 3:58 am CHAPTER III. THE COTTINEAUS, FATHER AND SON. CAPT. DENIS L. COTTINEAU COMMANDED THE PALLAS IN JOHN PAUL JONES' GREAT FIGHT WITH THE SERAPIS AND FOUGHT A DUEL AS AN OUTCOME OF THE TREACHERY OF CAPT. LANDAIS—LIES BURIED IN THE OLD COLONIAL CEMETERY—HIS SON SLAIN IN A DUEL AT HAVANA BY A SAVANNAH OFFICER HE SOUGHT TO BEFRIEND—THE STORY OF CATHOLIC ARISTOCRATS WHO SOUGHT SAVANNAH AS A REFUGE FROM THE STORM OF REVOLUTION. BUTTON GWINNETT, it is generally and reasonably believed, lies in the present Colonial Park, the old burying ground of Christ church. There was no other burial place in Savannah at the time of the duel with McIntosh, and it is extremely improbable that the body would have been removed from the city for interment. Wherever his ashes may rest in the old cemetery they are not far distant from those of another revolutionary character, associated with John Paul Jones in his greatest of naval combats and victories, and whose body, when it was laid away in Savannah's parish burying ground, was scarred with a wound received in a duel with one whose name is now chiefly remembered for an act of the basest treachery and a general misconduct and insubordination that present day alienists attribute to a neurotic mentality approaching insanity. On the Abercorn street side of Colonial Park, beneath the shadow of trees and bushes, but a few feet from the sidewalk where hundreds pass daily, almost directly east of McDonough street crossing, is the tombstone that tells in brief the story of Captain Cottineau, commander of the Pallas at the battle between the Bon Homme Richard and the Serapis, which immortalized Jones. No flag of our country or of France ever flutters above the grave to draw attention to the inadequate inscription on the stone. No patriotic celebration ever finds a wreath of laurel placed upon it. Citizens and strangers alike ignore its presence. The story of the Frenchman who stood true to the American in the hour of his most desperate conflict is seldom, if ever, recalled by Savannahians. The wording on the stone, roughened by the weather of a hundred years, is sadly worn and needs rechiseling that it may be preserved for future generations less indifferent to the glorious romances of Savannah. Here it is: Sacred to the memory of Denis L. Cottineau de Kerloguen Native of Nantes (France) Formerly a Lieut, in his late Most Christian Majesty's Navy. Knight of the Royal Military Order of St. Louis. Capt. Commanding a Ship of War of the United States During their Revolution, and a member of the Cincinnati Society. Obit. Nov. 29th 1808. Aged 63 years. The story of the great naval fight off Flamborough Head, on the eastern coast of England, in which, for the first and only time in the annals of the British navy, a British ship of war struck her colors to a weaker and sinking enemy, should not require repeating. Yet it is so thrilling, and the man who lies in this almost forgotten grave played his part so well, that one feels tempted to sketch it in outline, told though it has been a hundred times. The British were on the lookout for Jones—and they found him. Prior to this he had left his indelible mark, made himself dreaded and hated by the British merchant marine, and respected as a fearless fighter by British naval men. In 1778 his capture of the Drake, of superior build and armament to his own vessel, the Ranger, showed more than ever the superior skill and the mettle of the intrepid Scotch-American sailor. In August, 1779, with his flagship, the old, slow-sailing, almost rotten, converted merchantman, Bon Homme Richard, with an armament of 42 guns, largely old and condemned French cannon, some of which burst at the first discharge in the engagement, he left L'Orient on his most famous cruise. In company with him sailed Capt. Cottineau, in the Pallas, a former merchant ship, with 32 guns; the Alliance, Capt. Landais, described as "the best ship m the American navy", also with 32 guns, and the smaller Vengeance. A cutter and two privateers which accompanied them soon deserted and the Vengeance played no part in the final battle. The purpose of the little squadron was to harrass the Scotch and English coasts, to take Leith and levy tribute thereon, to demoralize the British shipping, to gather in rich prizes, and to give the Admiralty further evidence of Jones1' fighting prowess, if fate should bring him into contact with the English war vessels. He failed in none of these things except as to Leith, and unfavorable winds and consequent delays saved that town from a heavy toll. On the Bon Homme Richard, had been gathered as motley a crew as ever sailed. Portuguese, Malays, Swedes, French, and a number of English prisoners, made up three-fourths of it, leavened by eight officers and seventy men of American stock. Such was the martial spirit and unrivalled powers of leadership of Jones that the heterogenous mass, discordant and half-rebellious, was controlled and welded into a wonderful fighting unit when the final issue came. As Capt. Pearson testified at his court-martial, "The Bon Homme Richard was dominated by a commanding will of the most unalterable resolution." Of far greater drawback than the miscellaneous craw was the captain of the Alliance. Landais, although it was not known when he was placed in command, was a cashiered officer of the French navy, unstable in every way. Jealousy forbade any of the French officers serving under the unrestrained authority of an officer of a yet unrecognized nation. The French Minister of Marine had handicapped Jones with instructions that left the commanders of the other vessels largely independent of his orders. It was theirs to do or not to do, as they might see fit. And for that very reason the greater honor is due to Cottineau. More than a month passed, with numerous evidences of insulting insubordination and treachery on the part of Landais, with an occasional departure of the Alliance from the squadron with an utter contempt of the authority of Jones. Then came the day of days, the meeting, when evening's dusk was coming on, with the fleet of Baltic merchantmen escorted by the Serapis and the Countess of Scarborough. The Seraphs- was new, strongly constructed, carrying fifty of the best guns of English make, a crew of 320 English sailors of the finest type, and was commanded by Pearson, one of the most courageous and most skilful of the English captains. Her companion vessel was smaller but powerful. The story will thrill the world as long as acts of supreme heroism are admired and held worthy of emulation. The Bon Homme Richard was literally shot to pieces, sinking under the feet of what was left of her crew, her guns mainly silenced, the English prisoners from captured vessels escaping on deck were forced to man the pumps, the dead and the dying were counted by the scores, the upper deck was ready to collapse, the entire vessel a mere shattered hulk at the mercy of wind and wave—but above and beyond all stood out the coolness and unshaken determination of Jones. His matchless maneuvres finally locked the two vessels together. Then came the desperate attempts from each vessel to board, the almost cessation of fighting to partially quell the flames that promised to destroy both vessels, the final rally of the Bon Homme Richard's forces, with Jones cheering them on as they fought the British hand to hand—and then the unexpected, the sudden advent of the Alliance and the firing of her broadsides into the Bon Homme Richard. It was only the superhuman valor of Jones that resisted the urgings to strike his colors. Then came the final surrender of the Serapis, Capt. Pearson himself hauling down his flag. It is no wonder artists and sea historians have loved to dwell upon it. As an English writer has said: "It was Jones and Jones alone, rather than the Bon Homme Richard, who beat Pearson to a standstill." And while the Serapis and the Bon Homme Richard fought out their duel of the sea, where was Cottineau? Unlike Landais, he had stood true to his promise: "I will stand by you in any event," he had told Jones. Engaging the Countess of Scarborough, after an hour's hard fighting, he had captured the smaller of the British vessels, and stood ready to go to the aid of Jones when Landais came up with the Alliance and sailed around the Pallas and her prize. When called by Cottineau to take charge of the prize and permit him to help the Bon Homme Richard in her unequal contest, Landais withdrew and a few minutes after had dastardly poured his shot into the American vessel. Fortunate it was that Cottineau was not of the low calibre of Landais. The additional guns of the Countess of Scarborough, if left to herself, would have consigned the Bon Homme Richard and her valiant commander and crew to an ocean grave. Cottineau, to his eternal credit, had refused to be misled by his jealous and unbalanced countryman and justified the faith that Jones had in him when he said: "I only wish that another man like you were in command of the Alliance." For his part in the engagement Cottineau was praised by Jones and by Benjamin Franklin, the latter representing the United States in France, and his own government later decorated him with the Cross of Saint Louis. Thirty hours after the battle the Bon Homme Richard went down. No one has ever told of her plunge beneath the Atlantic more graphically than John Paul Jones himself: "No one was now left aboard the Richard but our dead. She sank peacefully in about forty fathoms. Our torn and tattered flag was left flying when we abandoned her. As she plunged down to the head at the last, her taffrail momentarily rose in the air, so the very last vestige mortal eyes ever saw of the Bon Homme Richard was the defiant waving of her unconquered and unstricken flag. And as I had given them the good old ship for their sepulchre, I now bequeathed to my immortal dead the flag they had so desperately defended, for their winding sheet." The flag that thus went down above the heroic dead was the first banner with the stars and stripes that Europe ever saw—a flag with one star for Georgia in the thirteen stars of its constellation. It had floated over the Ranger when she received the salute of the French war ships at Brest, the first national salute to the American flag from a foreign fleet, and it had been the first stars and stripes to which a British ship had struck her colors. Out of the battle off Flamborough Head grew the duel between Cottineau and Landais. Cottineau openly supported Jones in his accusations against Landais, who then challenged him to a duel with swords, in the use of which the former captain of the Alliance was an expert. The duel was fought on an island in the Texel and Cottineau was dangerously wounded in the right side. Emboldened by this, Landais then challenged Jones, who accepted and specified pistols. Knowing the expertness of John Paul Jones with that weapon, Landais refused to meet him on the ground that pistols were not a French weapon of honor, and quickly left Amsterdam to avoid being forced to a meeting. Of Cottineau's further connection with the French navy little has been ascertained. In 1790 he was confirmed as captain of an armed ship for the campaign against England. His name disappeared from the list of the French Marine two years later. During that period, though, he had evidently been upon the retired list, as in 1790 he was living in St. Domingo as a coffee planter, with his wife, nee Mmlle. Lucie Mocquet de Montalet, sister of the Marquis Jean Berard Mocquet de Montalet, later of Sapelo Island and Savannah, and of William Polycarp Montalet, the early owner of the Hermitage plantation. On St. Domingo Island were born the Cottineaus' two children, Achilles and Denis. These boys later became students at St. Mary's Academy, Baltimore. When the blacks under Toussaint 1'Ouverture rebelled and began the massacre of the French in the island the Cottineaus fled to Pennsylvania and became part of the picturesque colony established at Azilium on the Susquehanna. With them was Rev. Antoine Carles, former Canon of Guernsey, kinsman of Madame Cottineau. In 1803 they migrated to Savannah, where Father Carles became the second permanent pastor of the Church of St. John the Baptist. His name is found occasionally in the old records and newspapers. He and Madame Cottineau also conducted a school where the sons and daughters of prominent Savannahians were instructed in "French and Good Manners." In this city, twenty-nine years after he captured the Countess of Scarborough, Cottineau passed away. In the mortuary reports at the City Hall there is found this brief allusion: "Denis Nichs. Cottineau, 63 years, native of France. Gentleman. From consumption. Died Nov. 29, 1808. Buried Nov. 30. Was afflicted three years. He died and was buried from the house of the Roman Catholic priest, Mr. Carles, on Broughton street." The local newspapers made no mention of his death. John Paul Jones, who died in Paris, now lies in a magnificent tomb at the naval academy at Annapolis, an ever-living reminder to the cadets of the memorable reply he sent back to Pearson from the bullet-showered deck of his sinking ship when that officer, thinking Jones was surrendering, hailed him: "Have you struck?" And across the few feet of intervening space, under the ensign of the new-born nation, came back the words that will never be forgotten: "I have just begun to fight." Landais lived on for many years in New York, ignored. A monument at St. Patrick's cathedral is his memento. Cottineau's grave in Savannah is visible to all and recognized by few. Yet that little, venerable, blackened stone, which awakens so meagre an interest, connects Savannah with the greatest of the naval battles of the American struggle for freedom. Four years after Capt. Cottineau's death his son, Achilles, aged 22 years, was buried with him, a victim of the fever. The other of the Cottineau sons, Denis, reared in Savannah, obeying the traditions of his father, followed the sea. He became an officer in the American navy, fought a duel as his father had done, fell in the combat, and lies in an unknown grave in a foreign land. The story of his death is a tragedy tinged with the flavor of quixotic friendship, the story of an ardent spirit eager to assist a Savannah comrade of boyhood days, of a brave young life sacrificed to no purpose. In 1819 Cottineau was a midshipman on the U. S. corvette John Adams, of 24 guns, Capt. Alexander S. Wads-worth, cruising in West India waters. This vessel was built from the subscriptions of the citizens of Charleston when war threatened with France in 1799. On the ship with him was another Savannah boy, Midshipman Pierson. The ties of former association in their old home town probably drew them together more closely than would otherwise have been the case. Pierson gave some offence that put him in Coventry with the other officers of the John Adams. What the error was that consigned him to the harsh treatment of exclusion from the pale of the officers' society is not known. To be in Coventry meant to be treated with the coldest courtesy so far as the official life of the vessel went, to be ignored whenever his path crossed another officer's path beyond the line of strict duty. It was a contempt that was all the more odious and hateful because of its studied, frigid official politeness, its positive refusal to give occasion for active offence. It was marked by the cessation of all comradeship. It was harder to encounter than open insult because it was a perpetual covert insult that could not be challenged. It was' the boycott of the navy, unendurable to the man condemned to the small quarters of a ship of that day and sufficient to break the spirit and drive from the service any one who encountered it. To be in Coventry meant that no officer in the service considered the victim a gentleman. No other officer would be the subject of a challenge. To see another Savannahian in this frightful plight touched the sympathies of Cottineau. Perhaps he felt that the offense was being punished beyond justification. The desire to help the unfortunate midshipman came upon him. On deck one night, as they drew near Havana, he ventured to broach the subject. They were on watch duty. As they approached one another Cottineau said to his brother officer: "Pierson, you are in a bad fix." The midshipman did not need to be told that. In his heart he may have resented his attention being called to the fact. "What can I do?" was his reply. "Call one of the officers out," was Cottineau's advice. Pierson would have been eager to accept the advice if it had been feasible. Too well he knew the cartel would have been returned to him unanswered. "To meet me would break the Coventry," he is reported to have said. "No one would meet me." Cottineau was keenly touched. Perhaps as boys they had played together in the squares of the old home town. The impulses of youth are impetuous and thoughtless. His heart dominated his brain. Cottineau hesitated no longer: "Challenge me," he cried. "I will meet you. That will break the ban." A few days later the John Adams lay in the harbor of Havana. The challenge had been passed and had been accepted. From the Navy Department at Washington I secured a photograph of the page of the log of the John Adams on which the officer of the day, in the perfunctory way in which a log is kept, told of the meeting and its fatal result. It is reproduced herewith. There are three little items interspersed with the notes as to the weather conditions and the usual routine of the boat: "Saturday, April 3, 1819. At 3 P. M. a duel took place between Midshipman Cottineau and Midshipman Pierson in which the former was killed," "From 4 to 6 * * * * Carpenters employed in making a Coffin." "Sunday, April 4. At 1/2 past 9, the funeral of Midshipman Cottineau." Pistols were used and at the first fire Cottineau fell dead. The bullet from the weapon of the man he had sought to befriend had found a lodgment in his heart. It may be that Pierson did not intend to slay Cottineau. It seems incredible that he should have done so. It is a hundred years and more ago and he left no defence of himself when many years later he died in Savannah. But he was more than ever an ostracised man. He was driven from the navy by a sentiment that was far more irresistible than the original Coventry that poor Cottineau had endeavored to break. Mr. Charles Spalding Wylly, of Brunswick, in his delightful little volume, "The Seed That Was Sown," recalls that in his faraway youth he saw Pierson in the Pulaski House bar, "a supernumerary in life." In a letter from Havana, dated April 14, 1819, from the "Savannah Republican's" correspondent there, appeared this item: "Two midshipmen on the John Adams fought a duel on the 3d inst., one of whom was killed the first fire". Madame Cottineau doubtless read this without the slightest realization of what it meant to her. That was the sole reference to the affair in the local papers, or the papers elsewhere. Soon after they laid away the midshipman in the cemetery at Havana the last link that connected the Cottineau family with Savannah was severed. When the Bourbons came back to the throne Father Carles returned to France. Other aristocrats who had made Savannah their home followed. A number, though, died here in absolute poverty. Some time after 1825 Madame Cottineau likewise went back to her native land and resumed her position in the court circle of that period. There is no more interesting chapter in all the romance of old Savannah than the stories of these noble French emigres. Fortunately Rev. Joseph D. Mitchell, recently Vicar-General of the Diocese of Savannah, is preserving them from oblivion by his researches and writings. Back in the old yet new France, never to be the same after the touch of Napoleon, Madame Cottineau lingered a few years, and the Abbe Carles continued his holy offices until 1834. On Easter Sunday of that year he fell dead soon after officiating at the altar in the cathedral of Bordeaux. When the news of his death reached Savannah a requiem mass in his memory drew many old friends and acquaintances of its former rector to the Church of St. John the Baptist. The memories of the family in Savannah gradually faded out with the generation that had known them. Additional Comments: From: ANNALS OF SAVANNAH SAVANNAH DUELS AND DUELLISTS 1733-1877 BY Thomas Gamble COPYRIGHT 1923 REVIEW PUBLISHING & PRINTING COMPANY SAVANNAH, GEORGIA File at: http://files.usgwarchives.net/ga/chatham/history/other/gms406savannah.txt This file has been created by a form at http://www.genrecords.org/gafiles/ File size: 21.5 Kb