Captain Pierre Landais was in command of the frigate Alliance and part of the squadron of ships under Captain/Commodore John Paul Jones during the fight off Flamborough Head. In the desperate fight, his actions were a tad muddled.
Captain Landais, of the Alliance, after observing for a time, formed another plan, and set off after Pallas. On the way, Alliance passed the two locked ships, still anchored, still firing broadsides at each other. As the direction of shots was now predictable, Captain Landais could safely approach within firing range of Serapis, from the right direction- bow or stern rather than flank. This he did, firing a broadside including round-shot, bar-shot and grapeshot at Serapis’ bow. Right next to that bow, still, was Bonhomme Richard’s stern. As much lethal shot hit Jones’s men as Pearson’s, and metal also flew along Bonhomme Richard’s gun-deck, killing some of the remaining gunners and wrecking several gun-carriages. Landais then continued on his way.
After that, Bonhomme Richard started definitively losing the battle. Still, efforts to make the situation too hot for the British, both figuratively and literally, continued. Just after 9:30 pm, one of these attempts succeeded in spectacular fashion. According to Jones's published campaign report, grenade-thrower William Hamilton ventured right out along a yard-arm until he could look almost straight down on the deck of Serapis (by this time, almost cleared of men), and began trying to drop grenades, not onto the deck but down the hatches. By good fortune, one of these ignited a charge of gunpowder placed in readiness (contrary to standard fire safety practice, but Captain Pearson had encouraged his men to "fire briskly") for loading into one of Serapis’ 18-pound guns. The problem with this version of the story is that the 18-pounders were on the lower deck, so it would take a very lucky drop to reach them from high above. Captain Pearson speculated that either a grenade had been thrown through a hole in the hull, from Bonhomme Richard’s gun deck, or that the charge had been ignited by accident. Whatever the cause, the effect was devastating. As the ignited charge blew up, it scattered burning gunpowder, setting off other charges nearby, and ultimately the chain reaction covered the entire rear half of Serapis’ lower gun-deck, killing or severely burning many of the gunnery crewmen, forcing some to leap into the sea to extinguish their burning clothes, and putting five guns out of action. In the confusion, some of the crew clambering back on board after jumping into the sea were nearly mistaken for American boarders.
The absence of any other combatants had bought Serapis a considerable amount of time. Bonhomme Richard’s gun decks were now so badly damaged that most of the British shots were passing straight through without touching anything, and the great guns were almost completely silenced. There were almost as many fires to be extinguished as there were aboard Serapis, but on the other hand, the hold was filling with water because one of the pumps was in ruins. Commodore Jones was exhausted, and apparently slumped on the chicken coop for a brief rest. Somehow (according to his later memoirs), a rumour went around that he was dead or dying, and his gunner and carpenter, both wounded, hastily consulted with the master-at-arms. Together they decided, a little before 10 pm, to surrender by striking the ship’s colours, but the flag had already been shot away, so their only option was to shout. Captain Pearson shouted back, asking whether the Americans had really struck their colours. Possibly his Lieutenant of Marines relayed this message. Certainly, Jones’s reply was firmly negative.[8] Jones himself recalled shouting something along the lines of "I have not yet thought of it, but I am determined to make you strike," at which point, presumably, the surrendering officers realised he was still very much alive and returned to their duties. A much more dramatic version appeared in newspapers within days of the event, allegedly based on the testimony of an ex-crewman who thought he heard something like "I may sink, but I’ll be damned if I strike", and witnessed the captain using his pistols to shoot the three officers who were attempting to surrender (another version of the story also circulated, with the chicken coop but without the shootings, which fits better with Jones's memory). In all the noise,Pearson could not actually hear the reply to his question, so he decided to send a boarding team. At this point, once again, Jones's preparation paid off. The boarders were met by a previously hidden defensive force, which swiftly drove them back to Serapis. By this time, the attempts to bring down Serapis’ main mast had also borne some fruit (ironically, the only reason why it had not fallen down was because it was leaning on Bonhomme Richard’s rigging). And then, perhaps about 10:15 pm, Alliance returned, and Landais delivered another of his helpful broadsides. Jones’s men yelled at him to stop, and the commodore attempted to send orders for Alliance to help with a boarding operation. The moon was full, brightly illuminating the distinctive yellow livery of Serapis. Bonhomme Richard was clearly showing agreed lantern signals, but Landais stuck to his plan, sailing round the "safe" sides of the locked ships to fire broadsides aimed, in his theory, at both bow and stern of Serapis. In reality, Bonhomme Richard, yet again, was holed below the waterline and started settling so rapidly that the master-at-arms took it upon himself to release the hundred or so prisoners from previous captures, who had been held on the lower decks. As they had not been put in manacles, they were completely free and could potentially have helped Serapis’ crew to overrun the American ship. Jones reacted quickly to the new crisis, successfully urging the prisoners to put all their efforts into working the three remaining pumps to save themselves.
Captain Pearson of Serapis had only limited knowledge of the escalating chaos aboard Bonhomme Richard. He too was losing many men from Alliance’s attacks, and he could not move his ship. Alliance, still effectively undamaged, could keep firing at will. On the other hand, nearly every ship in the convoy he had been sent to protect had reached safety before the battle even began. Following the second of Alliance’s new round of broadsides, like Piercy before him, he decided that he could achieve nothing more by continuing to fight. Not long after 10:30 pm, he called for quarter and struck his colours in person. Thus the Americans finally got the chance to board the Serapis, but this did not go quite as well as it could have. Three shots were fired by British sailors who had not got the message. Midshipman John Mayrant, following First Lieutenant Dale aboard, got a pike stuck through his leg. Pearson's first lieutenant was among those reluctant to believe that his captain had surrendered, and Dale made sure that he stayed with Pearson rather than leaving him to his own devices. A short time later, as Captain Pearson was boarding Bonhomme Richard to hand over his ceremonial sword, the main-mast of Serapis finally fell overboard, perhaps as a result of work to separate the two ships, dragging the damaged mizzen-top-mast with it. As Bonhomme Richard got under way, Dale attempted to follow in Serapis, and learned two important facts in quick succession. First, Serapis would not move, and second, he had a very large splinter in his leg, which now caused him to fall over. The first problem was rectified by cutting the anchor cable, the second by returning Dale to Bonhomme Richard for treatment. Boats from both Serapis and Alliance were used to begin the the evacuation of Bonhomme Richard’s crew. One or two of these boats went missing during the night, as ex-captive British crewmen took the opportunity to go home (hence the eyewitness newspaper stories). The combatants had been observed by thousands of onlookers, for on that clear night, with a near-full moon, the action could be seen from a long stretch of the high Yorkshire coastline, from Scarborough in the north to Flamborough Head itself in the south.
There is no record of final casualty figures aboard the two main combatants. Captain Pearson, in a postscript to his battle report, stated that there were "many more than" 49 dead and 68 wounded aboard Serapis, but his figure of 300 casualties aboard Bonhomme Richard seems very high, unless it includes a great many of the captives stuck below decks during the battle. British press reports claimed 70 deaths on Bonhomme Richard, which, assuming a similar ratio to the Serapis figures would give around 100 wounded.
Overnight, pumping continued on Bonhomme Richard, and repairs began (also, the powder was removed from the magazine, which was threatened by the continued smouldering of the ship's woodwork). With the water still getting deeper, the guns from the lower decks were reluctantly heaved overboard—not a very difficult task, as much of the hull was missing. The dead went the same way, though with rather more dignity. At 2 pm the next day, with the carpenter insisting that the ship could not be saved, Commodore Jones took the ex-captain and lieutenant of Serapis to safety, but returned early in the evening to check on progress. Finding that the water was still rising, he ordered the wounded, who ideally should not have been moved, to be transferred to other vessels (Pearson was not aware of this nocturnal operation, and wrote in his official report that Jones had left the wounded aboard). At 10 pm, those who had been brought in from other ships to man the pumps were ordered to leave, and during the rest of the night the most important items aboard were removed. These did not include personal possessions, not even most of Jones's. The flotilla was slowly moving east-south-east away from the coast all this time,[17] and was not seen from land again after night fell (as Flamborough Head is about 400 feet (120 m) high, ships’ sails would be visible on a clear day up to 30 miles (48 km) away). At 4 am the next day, 25 September, pumping was abandoned, with the water almost up to the lower deck. The wind was getting stronger, so all personnel abandoned ship at 10 am, and just before 11, as a boat approached from the commodore's new command ship, Serapis, to try to salvage a few more items, Bonhomme Richard started to disappear beneath the waves.
Several Royal Navy ships were on their way, but once again French obstinacy had a semi-beneficial effect. Jones wished to take his prizes to Dunkirk, but the French captains insisted on following the original orders from their government masters to head for the island of Texel in the neutral United Provinces (the Netherlands). They arrived safely on 3 October, while the British ships searched for them in all the wrong places, having ignored a correct preliminary estimate by observers in Yorkshire. Jones immediately wrote a report to his own government superior, Benjamin Franklin, one notable feature of which was, inevitably, the conduct of Captain Landais. Furious though he was, he wrote, "I forbear to take any steps With him until I have the advice and approbation of your Excellency". Captain Cottineau, on the other hand, placed himself under no such obligation, and called Landais a coward to his face. Landais challenged him to a duel during which Landais ran his sword through Cottineau's chest, just missing the heart
