… was as Mad as a Hatter
Pierre de Landais (1731-1820) was born in Saint-Malo, Department d’Ille-et-Vilaine, Bretagne, France. He was the son of one of Normandie’s oldest families whose wealth enabled him to attend the Ecole de la Marine. Pierre might have had a notable career in the French Navy were it not for the fact that his father exhausted the family fortune providing a brilliant display of fireworks to entertain Mme. De Pompadour. Under these circumstances, Pierre was unable to purchase promotion and Pierre remained a midshipman until he was 32-years old.
In 1762, Pierre served aboard a French ship during France’s unsuccessful defense of Quebec. During an engagement with a British warship, Landais was wounded, taken prisoner, and transported to England. As a midshipman, Landais had no value as a prisoner and he was soon returned to France. He later participated in the first French circumnavigation of earth (1766-1769), sponsored and led by Admiral Louis-Antoine, Comte de Bougainville.
In 1775, aged 44-years, Lieutenant Pierre was discharged from the French Navy. Two years later, Pierre accepted an appointment to command a merchantman for Hortalez et Cie —a shell company controlled by French entrepreneur Pierre Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais (1732-1799). Through the shell company, Beaumarchais smuggled arms and money to America through the West Indies. Landais delivered his illicit goods to an American agent at Portsmouth, New Hampshire, which made him a hero among the American rebels.
Massachusetts was so pleased that they granted Pierre “honorary citizenship” and paid him in French currency the equivalent of £12,000. To these grateful people, Landais proudly proclaimed that he “had served as a captain in the royal navy of France, had commanded a ship of the line, had served as chief officer of the port of Brest, and was of such worth and estimation for his great abilities at sea that he could have any honors or advancement in his own country that he pleased to accept.”
In 1777, the gratitude of Americans toward the French was such that they looked for ways of manifesting their appreciation in some public act. In Massachusetts, Landais spent a great deal of time in the company of John Adams, who later observed that Landais was an enigma: he was frustrated in his ambitions, disappointed in love, unable to win the affection or respect of his officers, and intensely jealous of everyone else. From John Adams diary, “There is in this man an inactivity and an indecisiveness that will ruin him. He is bewildered and possesses an embarrassed mind.” Worse, perhaps, Landais was deeply paranoid, convinced of plots against him.
In 1778, someone (we aren’t sure who) encouraged Landais to apply for a commission in the Continental Navy. The Marine Commission of the Congress dutifully considered his application and initially rejected it (for reasons unknown), but six weeks later, on 9 May, Congress did offer him a captain’s commission to serve as the officer commanding USS Alliance.
Alliance was a 36-gun frigate originally named Hancock. Her keel was laid in 1777 on the Merrimack River near Amesbury, Massachusetts. The ship was launched on 28 April 1778, renamed Alliance on 29 May. Alliance is believed to have been the first warship built in America. She was brought down the Merrimack River from Salisbury to Newburyport and then to Boston in early August. In Boston, the ship was ordered to prepare to receive the entourage of the Marquis de la Lafayette and transport them to France; Lafayette’s mission was to petition the French Court for increased financial support for the American cause. Preparations for sea did not proceed very well because not long after taking command of his new ship, Captain Landais encountered problems with his officers, which delayed the marquis’ departure.
Apparently, the Alliance’s officers were happy to remain aboard ship, but unhappy with serving under Landais. These were all experienced seamen. We do not know their specific complaint, but I assume that they were underwhelmed, either by the quality of Landais’ seamanship or his leadership. The officers probably anticipated that this would not be a happy cruise. In any case, Landais requested that Congress replace several of his officers. At an inquiry to determine the cause of this unhappy relationship between Alliance’s Captain and his officers, Marine Captain Matthew Parke served as spokesman for disgruntled ship’s officers. In Parke’s view, if even one officer was replaced, then the Navy Committee would have to replace them all. Ultimately, Landais withdrew his demand for the removal of officers, but the animosity between Landais and his officers continued; Captain Parke of the Marines had earned no favor with Captain Landais.
Worse than Landais’ dysfunctional relationship with ship’s officers was his poor treatment of the crew. Port towns are renowned for rumor, innuendo, and the rapid transmission of unhappy news. It did not take long for word of Landais’ shoddy treatment of the crew to spread among those looking for birthing. Consequently, Alliance was unable to recruit a full crew for service at sea. Although, part of this was that eligible crewmen preferred instead to join privateers, where the pay was better.
Significantly short of the number of crewmen needed to man a frigate, Alliance was forced to draft seamen from USS Boston, and an additional 30 French crewmen from the squadron of Admiral d’Estaing —all of whom were recovering from some sickness. Additional shortages remaining, Alliance took onboard British prisoners who opted for service in the Continental Navy rather than spending their days locked up in rat-infested holding cells. Most British prisoners “signed on” as Marines.
Alliance finally shoved off on 14 January 1779 and for the most part, the journey was peaceful and calm —although Alliance did seize two Swedish vessels as prizes and the frigate lost her topmast in a storm. During the early morning hours of 2 February, a mutinous plot was uncovered among the ship’s English-speaking crew. All hands were called on deck and held there while officers searched personal belongings for weapons and evidence of the conspiracy. Landais convened a court of inquiry to question alleged ringleaders. Two of the ringleaders were Master at Arms John Savage and Marine sergeant William Murray. Eventually, Sergeant Murray admitted that he and Savage (along with 70 men) intended to seize the ship and sail her to England. Lafayette, Murray said, was to be placed in irons and delivered to the British government. Landais ordered the mutineers placed in irons and the ship continued to Brest, France —arriving on 6 February.
In Brest, Alliance remained in port for a month while undergoing repair. In early April, John Schweighauser, an American commercial agent, informed Captain Landais that he was to proceed to port on the Loire River. There, John Adams had arranged for a swap of prisoners with the British at Nantes. Adams boarded Alliance expecting to return with Landais to America, but while in port, Landais received new orders directing that he report to Commodore John Paul Jones at L’Orient.
At L’Orient, Captain Landis and Mr. Adams called upon Captain Jones, who was then aboard his ship Bonhomme Richard. At this meeting, Landis learned that he would be placed under the command of Captain Jones. Captain Landais did not want to serve in a squadron; he preferred to sail on his own and he deeply resented having to join Captain Jones’ flotilla. Added to this, from every account, Landais and Jones detested one another almost from the start. For his part, Mr. Adams was disappointed in not being able to return to America aboard Alliance.
Disagreement between Jones and Landais wasn’t long in coming. In terms of modern command relationships, disagreement between commodore and captain may seem strange. In 1779, Captain Jones served as commodore of a flotilla of American and French naval vessels, but he did not command them because each ship’s captain was free to act as he pleased irrespective of the commodore’s wishes. On 25 August, Jones’ flotilla was at sea and Jones became troubled by the fact that several of his squadron’s small boats were lost in the dense fog off the Irish coast. Captain Landais desired to pursue a prize vessel into the treacherous waters along the coast with limited visibility, but Jones, fearing the loss of Alliance, ordered Landais to remain with the fleet. Landais was not obliged to obey, arguing that he had the right to pursue when and where he thought proper “in this and every other matter.”
Jones, with a full realization that the command relationship was at best tentative, tried to reason with Landais, but Captain Landais was adamant and proceeded to accuse Jones of incompetence in losing the small boats, to begin with. Jones, now in a fury, responded that Landais had slandered his superior officer and would not have it. Both officers believed themselves affronted, and according to the code of gentlemanly behavior in 1779, Landais challenged Jones to a duel … choosing the sword. This would, of course, give Landais an advantage given the French tradition of swordsmanship. Jones was known as a hothead, but at this moment, there were larger fish to fry. Jones suggested that duty must be their priority; he suggested they put aside their animosity until they were on land, where they could resolve the matter —as gentlemen.
During the Revolutionary War period, sailing ships were crewed by seaman representing a variety of countries. With the naval powers of Europe being constantly at war, neutral seaports in the North Atlantic abounded in captured ships, taken to port as prizes of war, auctioned and sold with some proceeds distributed among the officers and crew. Once the ships were sold, the men who crewed them were left stranded in the neutral port until they could sign on to another ship. It was in this way that the number of seafaring men increased; it also explains why there was among them no sense of national allegiance. Captain Jones’ crew aboard Bonhomme Richard was a crew like this. They were multilingual, scurvy-ridden, argumentative louts; they obeyed orders because they would have a close encounter with a cat o’ nine tails if they didn’t. To keep the crew in line, Jones divided them into watches with one of these always keeping a wary eye on the other.
During one foray, Jones’ squadron searched for British shipping in the Bay of Biscay. During a squall, both Bonhomme Richard and Alliance were blinded and on a collision course. The bow watch aboard Bonhomme Richard gave shouts of warning in a language other than English or French. Captain Landais assumed that Bonhomme Richard was under siege of a mutinous crew and left his quarterdeck to retrieve weapons from his cabin. The bowsprit of Bonhomme Richard tore into Alliance’s rigging, which damaged her mizenmast. At that moment, Jones was asleep in his cabin. It was no more than an accident at sea, but the incident did nothing to ease the tension between Jones and Landais.
On the late afternoon of 23 September 1779, sailing off Flamborough Head, England, Commodore Jones’ squadron came across the 44-gun HMS Serapis and her consort HMS Countess of Scarborough. The British ships escorted 44 small merchant vessels carrying naval stores. The unarmed or poorly armed cargo ships hastily changed course for the nearest British port for safety. Jones hoisted his signal lantern ordering Alliance to join Bonhomme Richard in the upcoming battle, but Captain Landais ignored Jones’ signal and maintained his course. The battle was joined when Serapis opened fire, blasting Bonhomme Richard in a devastating broadside. Jones lost several guns and crew in the first volley. Worse for Bonhomme Richard, her hull was breached, and her rudder was badly damaged. Alliance finally joined the battle, approaching from Bonhomme Richard’s stern. Serapis, intending to fire on Alliance, raked Bonhomme Richard again. Jones ordered identity lanterns hoisted higher to keep Captain Landais from getting confused. Captain Landais was not confused, however, when he fired point-blank into Bonhomme Richard and then, turning away, unleashed a second barrage into his commodore’s ship.
The British Officer commanding HMS Serapis, Captain Richard Pearson, RN, was horrified by the damage done to Bonhomme Richard, but the two ships were locked together in a desperate struggle, each ship hoping to survive. Jones’ Marines were killing the crew of Serapis from their perches in the topsails. The crew of Bonhomme Richard continued to fight valiantly even as the ship began to sink beneath them. The battle lasted more than four hours. HMS Serapis finally struck her colors and Captain Pearson surrendered his sword to Captain Jones. When morning arrived, the American ensign was flying over both ships, but Bonhomme Richard was sinking and would not last the day. After the battle, Captain Landais confided to one of his officers that he intended to help Serapis sink Bonhomme Richard.
British flotilla operating nearby posed a serious threat to Commodore Jones’ squadron, so he was anxious to depart, but before Jones could return to the sea, the captured Serapis needed considerable rework to make her seaworthy. The work took seven days. Jones’ squadron then consisted of Serapis, Alliance, Countess of Scarborough, Pallas, and Vengeance. His orders were to put in at Texel, but Jones preferred instead to call at Dunkirk where his prizes and prisoners could be placed under French jurisdiction. His captains refused, however, insisting that Jones follow his original instructions; if the commodore did not wish to follow those orders, then he must proceed to Dunkirk alone. Jones opted to accompany the squadron to Texel.
The American fleet’s very presence in Texel made his Dutch hosts nervous. They agreed to allow the refitting of the squadron’s damaged ships but refused to accept any of his 500 prisoners. Consequently, Jones was forced to retain his prisoners in the cold, damp, rat-infested hold of Serapis. Many of these men were sick, but the Dutch remained adamant. In late October, Jones’ Dutch hosts finally allowed him to remove wounded men and house them in the fort. If Jones wanted these men cared for, then he would have to do that himself; Jones assigned this task to his Marines, which were also employed as guards for the prisoners at Texel, the prisoners aboard Serapis, and as members of the work crew repairing damaged ships.
On 15 October, when American Commissioner Benjamin Franklin received charges of cowardice against Captain Landais, which were validated by the statements and oaths of several squadron officers, he ordered Landais to Paris. Based on the evidence presented, Franklin suspended Landais from command of Alliance, which infuriated Landis to no end.
Once France agreed to assume financial responsibility for the squadron (all except for Alliance), and to avoid rupturing the delicate relations between France and Holland, Captain Jones transferred his flag, all American officers and crew (and most of the ship’s stores) from Serapis to Alliance. Captain Jones was not pleased with the state of the discipline of Alliance’s crew; he wasn’t encouraged by the conduct of Landais’ officers, either. They were too fond of rum.
Disgusted with the Dutch, Captain Jones sought the first favorable wind to depart from Texel; he waited four weeks. Jones finally made his break, escaping through British pickets without incident but Alliance was not a happy ship. Quarrels broke out between ship’s officers, one group supporting Landais, the other devoted to Jones. The primary issue was Landais’ cowardice in the fight off Flamborough Head. Jones instructed his officers to carry out their orders smoothly, professionally, and quietly and dispense with petty arguments with Landais’ officers.
On 10 February 1799, Jones put in at L’Orient and moored beside Serapis, which was awaiting condemnation. Alliance underwent repairs and refit. By mid-April, Jones received orders to return Alliance to America with large supplies of arms and clothing for General Washington’s army. There was still the question of prize money, however, and to resolve the issues, Captain Jones frequently traveled to Paris. Captain Landais, meanwhile, plotted to regain command of Alliance.
It was not difficult for Landais to agitate the crew against Jones; he convinced them that Captain Jones had neglected their interests in the matter of prize money. The crew even wrote to Benjamin Franklin declaring that they would not raise the ship’s anchor until their wages and prize money had been paid, or until their captain (Landais) was restored to duty. Marine Captain Matthew Parke was vocal about his refusal to sign such a letter.
On 12 June, Captain Jones returned to L’Orient, assembled his crew, and solicited whether anyone had any complaints. The crew remained silent; their stillness gave no occasion for Captain Jones to act on their behalf. After Jones went ashore, Landais went aboard and seized control of Alliance. All officers of the Bonhomme Richard were sent ashore. Landais then ordered Captain Parke to arm his Marines with bayonets and station them to guard the gangplank. Anyone attempting to board without Landais’ permission was to be impaled.
Neither Jones nor any of his officers made any attempt to regain control of Alliance. Instead, Jones returned to Paris to ask for increased authority from Commissioner Franklin. But, by the time Jones returned, Landais had already departed L’Orient for Port Louis. French authorities responded to Franklin’s request for assistance by laying a boom across the narrow strait outside Port Louis, through which Landais would have to travel. The boom would force Alliance to pass within cannon shot of two French forts guarding the straits. The French also stationed a gunboat to guard the boom, as well. Suddenly, surprising everyone, Captain Jones gave up his intent to regain Alliance. According to Jones, he did not want squabbling between American and French officials to give aid to their common enemy.
No sooner had the French removed the barrier, Captain Landais sailed through the strait, destination America. En route, Landais placed Captain Parke under arrest in quarters for eleven days as punishment for his refusal to take an oath of obedience to Landais. Parke’s arrest soured the officers and crew of Alliance. To emphasize his authority, Landais ordered into irons any crewman who complained about Parke’s treatment. On 11 August, the ship’s officers and crew revolted. By this time, the ship’s crew were convinced that Captain Landais was utterly mad. According to the testimony of Seaman John Kilby, “Landais conduct was such that … [it convinced the officers and passengers] that he was in a measure beside himself.”
Upon Alliance’s arrival in Boston, the Navy Board ordered Captain John Barry to relieve Landais of his command. Landais refused to resign, however, so three stout Marines under the command of Captain Matthew Parke dragged him out of his cabin and took him ashore. At his court-martial, even Pierre’s friends opined that he was probably insane. The verdict? Landais was judged guilty of allowing private goods shipped aboard a warship, of being incapable of handling a ship. He was “broke in rank” and judged unfit of serving in the Continental Navy.
Pierre Landais later became a resident of New York; his share of prize money paid him an annual annuity of $100.00. From this amount, he saved enough to afford an annual visit to the seat of government (first, Philadelphia, and later the federal city named Washington) to petition the Congress for their reconsideration of his dismissal. He asked for the restoration of his rank and payment in arrears. Congress would not hear of it … and Captain Pierre de Landais went to his grave with an intense hatred of John Paul Jones.
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- Crocker, III. H. W. Don’t Tread on Me. New York: Crown Publishing, 2006
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- Smith, C. R., and Charles H. Waterhouse. Marines in the Revolution: A History of the Continental Marines in the American Revolution, 1775-1783. Washington: History and Museums Division, Headquarters, U. S. Marine Corps, 1975.
- Thomas, E. John Paul Jones: Sailor, Hero, Father of the American Navy. Waterville: Thorndike Press, 2003.
 This is a British phrase used to suggest that a person is suffering from insanity. The phrase is thought to have originated from Bedfordshire where local men worked in the hatter business, which used mercury in the hat making process. Their exposure to mercury caused symptoms like madness. Louis Carol’s reference to a character in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland is only casually related to Hatter’s Disease.
 Jeanne Antoinette Poisson, Marquise de Pompadour (1721-1764) was the official mistress of Louis XV (1745-51) and remained a favorite at Royal Court until her death. Official mistress … those French!
 In these days, military officers purchased their promotions rather than earning them.
 In 1777, Adams was a delegate to the Continental Congress serving on as many as 90 separate committees, one of these being Chair, Board of War and Ordnance. It was likely that in this position, Adams met with Landais. In late 1777, Adams was appointed US Envoy to France, serving until March 1779.
 Rejection may have come from John Adams, who was a member of the Marine Commission.
 Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier.
 As one of the first Marine officers, Matthew Parke served alongside John Paul Jones on the Ranger during his highly successful cruise in British home waters, as well as serving on Alliance during the Battle of Flamborough Head. The Continental Marine uniform consisted of green coats with white facings and tall leather collar to protect the neck from sharp edged weapons (hence, the term “Leatherneck”). Captain Park’s portrait dates to around 1800. Portraits of Continental Navy officers are rare; portraits of Continental Marines even more so.
 In 1778 “commodore” was an honorific title bestowed upon navy captains appointed to lead several ships, also referred to as a squadron. The relationship between a commodore in command of a squadron and his subordinate captains was more on the order of a loose confederation since each ship’s captain was free to ignore the commodore and go their own way as they saw fit. This was probably the result of the fact that one or more ships were captained by French officers who owed no allegiance to the birthing United States.
 It was customary in those days to lower boats, particularly in dense fog, to search for the presence of enemy ships.
 A multi-tailed flail commonly used to administer punishment in the British and Continental army and navy.
 HMS Serapis was named after the god Serapis in Greek and Egyptian mythology. Captured by Jones, Serapis was later transferred to the French Navy serving as a privateer. She was lost in 1781 to a fire.
 Pearson (1731-1806) was an experienced naval officer. After his fight with Bonhomme Richard, the English people embraced him as a true British hero. He was knighted and received many accolades from the English people. Responding to a question about how he felt that the officer he defeated in battle received a knighthood, Captain John Paul Jones answered, “If he’ll meet me on the high seas again, I’ll make him a Lord.”
 Today, the Netherland’s largest and populated island.
 Franklin served as U. S. Commissioner to France from 1776 to 1785. Among his accomplishments was the securing a critical military alliance between France and the United States, and the Treaty of Paris in 1783.
 Given the fact that France financially supported the combined American/French naval fleets, captured ships not converted to war ships or cargo vessels (and their cargoes) were sold at auction. The proceeds from these sales were then divvied up between the treasury of France, and the officers and crews who had made the capture. Delays in making these payments to crewmen was common and, not surprisingly, a major source of the crewmen’s complaints.
 It is almost laughable to imagine that this rather unsophisticated group of crewmen wanted (either) their money, or Captain Landais. One suspects that Captain Landais himself slipped that one in …