It has pleased the Almighty to give to the arms of the United States
a signal victory over their enemy on this lake.
The British squadron, consisting of two ships, two brigs, one
schooner and one sloop, have this moment surrendered to the force
under my command, after a sharp conflict.
I have the honor to be, &c., &c.,
O. H. PERRY.”
This letter, written without deliberation, in the moment of victory, is
modest in describing his battle as a “sharp conflict;” and his allusion
to the Almighty power was sincere, for Perry was a religious man.
After sending off his despatches, he made signal to anchor, to enable
him to provide for the comfort of the wounded, the better security of
his prisoners, and the reorganization of his squadron.
Seventy prisoners were placed on board the Somers, under Mr. Brownell.
Forty were confined below; and the rest seated upon deck, the crew
remaining under arms all night, in spite of the fatigues of the day.
After distributing the remaining prisoners, Perry returned to the
Lawrence, to do what he could for his brave shipmates. It was also
proper that he should receive on board his own ship the surrender of
the English officers, and that the men who had done most to gain the
victory should see the last act of it.
Dr. Parsons writes, “He had returned, and was safe; but to a deck
slippery with blood and brains, and strewn with the bodies of officers
and men, some of whom had sat at table with us at our last meal; and
the ship resounded with the groans of the wounded. Those who could walk
received Perry as he came over the side; but the meeting was a silent
and mournful one.
“At the request of his officers he had, during the action, worn a
uniform round-jacket, and he now resumed his uniform, and standing aft,
received the officers of the different captured vessels, as they came
to surrender. At the head of them was an officer of the 41st British
Regiment, who acted as Marine Officer on board the Detroit, and who
appeared in full dress, charged by the wounded Commodore Barclay with
the delivery of his sword.
“When they approached, picking their way among the wreck and dead
bodies on deck, they held their swords with the hilts towards Perry,
and tendered them for his acceptance.
“With a dignified and solemn air, and in a low voice, he requested
them to retain their side arms, and inquired with deep interest for
Commodore Barclay and the other wounded officers, offering them any
comforts his squadron afforded.”
As it was impossible to reserve all the killed of the Lawrence for
burial on shore, the seamen were buried alongside, at nightfall; the
few survivors attending the ceremony, and the burial service being read
by the Chaplain.
It was a melancholy night on board the Lawrence, sleep being prevented
by the groans of the wounded. Perry said he believed his wife’s prayers
had saved him, for he escaped untouched, as did his young brother, only
twelve years of age, although the latter had several bullets through
his clothing.
On the day after the battle Perry removed to the Ariel, and sent the
Lawrence to Erie, as a hospital ship; but not before he had once more
returned to her, to inquire after the wounded, and to encourage them
under the operations which Dr. Parsons had to perform. Beside the
wounded, there were many ill with fever and diarrhœa.
In the course of the day Perry visited Barclay, on board the Detroit;
and a warm and enduring friendship sprang up, at once, between them.
Perry placed every comfort he could command at Barclay’s disposal; and
became responsible for a considerable sum of money required by the
British officers. He also, at Barclay’s request, advanced money to the
army officers serving in the British squadron.
At the very time he was doing this, cruelties were being exercised
towards our countrymen who were prisoners to the English, so great as
to lead to formal remonstrances and threats of retaliation. Just now it
is the fashion to admire the English, and these things are forgotten,
or ignored.
To relieve Barclay’s mind while suffering from his severe wounds, and
with the hope that restoration to his friends and country would restore
him, Perry pledged himself that he should be paroled; and he made such
urgent representations to the Commissioner of Prisoners, and to the
Secretary of the Navy (making the favor personal to himself, and the
only one he had to ask), that he eventually succeeded.
While Perry was on board the Detroit, on his visit to Barclay, two
strange beings were brought before him, who had been found in that
vessel’s hold, where they had been, without food, since the action.
They proved to be Indian chiefs, ludicrously clad in sailors’ clothes.
With others, they had been taken on board to act as sharp-shooters, in
the tops.
Although probably brave enough in their own manner of fighting, these
savages became entirely unnerved by the crash and destruction around
them, and they fled to the hold, nearly frightened to death.
The English, in both their wars with us, had a great _penchant_ for
the use of the Indians they could hire; and their barbarous allies
frequently led them into consequences they had not foreseen.
When these two Indians were brought before Perry, they expected to
be at once shot and scalped; and they were astonished at his kind
treatment. Soon after he sent them on shore, with a note to General
Harrison, asking protection for them from our own friendly Indians.
At nine A. M., on the morning of September 11th, the two squadrons
weighed anchor, and soon arrived at Put-in Bay. The burial of the
officers who had fallen in battle took place on the twelfth.
The day was a serene and beautiful one, and the lake’s surface was
as smooth as glass. The boats, with colors half-masted, conveyed the
bodies to the shore; keeping time, with their measured stroke, to the
funeral march.
As usual on such ceremonies, when the procession reached the shore,
they formed in reversed order. The youngest of the killed was borne
first; then the lowest in rank of the killed of the British squadron,
and so on, alternately, an American and an English corpse--the body of
Captain Finnis coming last.
The officers fell in, two American and two English, according to
reversed rank; Perry himself closing the procession. The drums and
fifes of both squadrons played the dead march, and minute guns were
fired alternately from the captured vessels, as well as from the
American squadron. The bodies were buried near the shore of the lake,
and after the burial service they were, with due ceremony, lowered to
their rest, and volleys of musketry closed the obsequies.
It was a remarkable scene. Conquerors and conquered were of the same
stock; with the same traits, and the same language; the burial service
of the Church of England sounding in their ears with equal familiarity.
Some of the results of Perry’s success have been already given; but
we may say that his defeat would have given the enemy command of all
the lakes; enabling him to concentrate his forces, in succession, upon
different important points, and would thus have laid our whole northern
frontier open to his incursions.
His victory led to the immediate evacuation of Detroit, and the release
of the whole Territory of Michigan from the horrors of fire, murder,
and scalping, which the Indian allies of the British had carried there.
Perry’s victory also wiped away the stigma incurred in the inglorious
surrender of General Hull; strengthening the hands of the Government,
and giving encouragement to those who were fighting, both on land
and by sea. General Harrison’s army now invaded Canada in turn; the
squadron assisting to convey his forces.
This is not the place to recount Perry’s subsequent exploits as aid
to General Harrison, or his participation in the battle of Tippecanoe,
when he served with Cass, Shelby, Richard Johnson, and Gaines, who was
then a Colonel; nor of the consequences of Perry’s endeavor to shield
Elliott’s conduct, in the battle with the English squadron.
For this, and for Perry’s subsequent service, and premature death,
after distinguished services in Venezuela, we must refer the reader to
the pages of our general history.