SAIL HO!
Although we--and I mean the crew--had no assurance that our fleet would
soon engage the enemy, every man appeared to be positive a battle was
near at hand.
The unfurling of that blue banner appeared a promise to be fulfilled in
the near future, and when the excitement had in a measure died away we
began discussing the probable result, no one venturing to suggest that
the Britishers might possibly come off best. Victory seemed assured,
despite the fact that Commodore Barclay carried thirty-five long guns
to our fifteen; we said to ourselves that Perry would soon lay us
alongside the enemy, when our smaller pieces must equalize the weight
of metal.
Why every man felt confident a battle was very near at hand, I am
unable to say.
Beyond the fact that the officers had been discussing the advisability
of attacking the enemy in Malden harbor, should he refuse to come out,
there was nothing to indicate an immediate meeting with him, yet we
spoke among ourselves as if a decisive engagement would positively be
fought on the morrow.
Old Silas was the only man among the crew, with the exception of the
officers, who had ever smelled burning powder in a fight on shipboard,
and this night his opinion was eagerly sought for and implicitly relied
upon.
“From what our commodore did at the taking of Fort George, I hold to it
we shan’t work at long range many minutes, if it so be the wind serves
us properly,” he said to the group of men around him, among which were
Alec and I, and my comrade interrupted by saying proudly:--
“You may be certain of that! Oliver isn’t one who will hang off when an
enemy is within striking distance!”
The old gunner paid no attention to this remark, but continued, as soon
as the lad ceased speaking:--
“Leftenant Forrest told me that our scouts have reported the
Britishers’ strength to be much in this ’ere way. The ship _Detroit_,
just off the stocks, so to speak, carryin’ nineteen guns, one in pivot,
an’ two howitzers; the ship _Queen Charlotte_, with seventeen guns an’
a howitzer; the schooner _Lady Prevost_ mountin’ thirteen guns an’ a
howitzer; the brig _Hunter_ of ten guns; the sloop _Little Belt_,
carryin’ three guns, an’ the schooner _Chippewa_, with one gun an’ two
swivels. Now as you all know without my tellin’ you, our strength is
fifty-two guns an’ two swivels. If Captain Dobbins were here with the
_Ohio_, we’d be a little better off; but seein’s he has gone to Presque
Isle, it’s a case of gettin’ on without him, which is like to make his
heart ache when we sail into the bay with a long string of prizes.”
“My father would not have gone at such a time unless he had been
ordered to do so,” I said quickly, thinking for the moment that the
gunner would have it understood differently.
“I know that full well, lad. There’s no man in this fleet, or among
the Britishers, for that matter, who doesn’t know Daniel Dobbins for
a brave sailor, to say nothin’ of his bein’ the best navigator on the
lakes. As I said, his heart will ache when he hears that we’ve given
the Britishers a lickin’, an’ he wasn’t here to take a hand in the
scrimmage.”
“Accordin’ to your own figgerin’, we need a good sailin’ breeze when
the Englishmen heave in sight, else we’re likely to be taken at a
disadvantage,” one of the sailors suggested.
“Right you are, lad, right you are; an’ yet when they heave in sight
there’s like to be a stiffish breeze, else Barclay would hold snug
in port. Of course it’ll be another matter in case we run into Malden
after ’em.”
“You’ve counted up only the guns, Silas,” another sailor cried. “What
about the men?”
“There’s where we’re a bit weak, I’ll admit; but a Yankee who’s
fightin’ within sight of home should be able to count for more than
one Britisher. It’s said Barclay has better than five hundred men, all
in good condition--one hundred an’ fifty from the royal navy, eighty
Canadian sailors, two hundred and forty soldiers, mostly regulars,
an’ a sprinklin’ of Indians. Now Leftenant Forrest tells me we’ve
four hundred an’ ninety names on the muster-roll; but one hundred an’
sixteen are on the sick-list, an’ nigh to all of that number too weak
to lend a hand at anything. Therefore you can set our force down as
three hundred an’ seventy-five all told, one quarter bein’ from Rhode
Island, a quarter regular seamen, the third quarter green hands, an’
the balance made up of niggers and Injuns.”
“If that figgerin’ be true, an’ I’m not sayin’ it ain’t, the Britishers
have about an hundred an’ twenty-five the best of us,” the sailor who
had first spoken said gravely.
“That’s the size of it, lad.”
“Then what about its bein’ our trick to fight at close quarters?”
“We’re bound to do it with the idee of evenin’ up the weight of metal.
I’m not allowin’ that the difference in men goes for very much, seein’s
how us Yankees are bound to do the most fightin’, in consideration of
bein’ at home.”
To my mind the old gunner’s argument was not a good one; we knew full
well that the Britishers were as brave as we, and a goodly number of
them were near to their homes.
It pleased me that our men should be confident of winning a victory,
and yet I feared for the result.
By thinking long on this subject I might have grown timorous while all
the others were so brave; but I put the matter from my mind by saying
that there were no more signs of an immediate battle than at almost
any other time since we crossed the bar of Presque Isle bay, and for
the moment I was near to wishing that Commodore Barclay might find it
possible to give us the slip.
The crew of the _Lawrence_ gave little heed to sleeping, on this night;
there were a few who turned into their hammocks, but Alec and I were
not among the number. It would have been impossible for me to close
my eyes while death seemed so near, and he, dear lad, could not rest
because of the anxiety in his heart.
We two left the group of sailors who listened eagerly to the wondrous
tales with which old Silas was regaling them, and walked well aft where
we might see the commodore when he came on deck, for the officers of
the brig had gone below immediately after the new banner was displayed.
“If Oliver lives through the morrow, he will have won for himself a
name such as few can boast of,” Alec said proudly.
It seemed as if the lad lost sight of himself in the great love he bore
this brother who was our commander, and, realizing that a trifling
accident might change the fortunes of war, I said, with the idea of
lessening his disappointment in case it chanced that the British won
the victory:--
“We are the weaker in both guns and men, Alec, and old Silas argues
idly when he claims that our people can fight better than the enemy.”
“Commodore Barclay is not as good an officer as Oliver.”
“He has surely had more experience,” I ventured to suggest.
“That does not count against such a man as my brother.”
“I am ready to admit all you claim for our commodore, and make even
stronger statements; but yet it is not well to be so positive
regarding the result, Alec dear. No man can say what a day may
bring forth, and our crews are to be pitted against experienced
men-of-war’s-men.”
“Oliver will be the victor!” the lad said emphatically, and in such a
tone as told me that any attempt to make him less confident might cause
hard feelings between us.
“God grant he be!” I replied, and never did I speak more fervently;
the words were, in reality, a prayer. Then, coming back to the thought
which had been near to a hope, I added, “We are counting on a battle
to-morrow as if there could be no question about it, and yet what
grounds have we for believing that the Britishers will venture out of
Malden harbor?”
“Oliver says they will,” Alec replied, and as against such profound
faith I could say no more.
We paced to and fro until nearly daybreak, and then the commodore came
on deck, looking weak and worn from the ravages of the fever; but with
a sparkle of the eyes which I could see plainly even in the darkness.
He threw one arm around Alec’s neck, and held out a hand for me to
clasp.
“What are you two lads doing on deck at this hour, when you should be
in your hammocks gaining rest and strength against the work of this
coming day?”
“Then you really believe we shall at last face the Britishers?” Alec
asked, caressing his brother’s hand.
“Ay, lad; for if Commodore Barclay refuses to come out, it is decided
that we shall go in after him.”
“And am I to serve on Master Boyd’s gun, or will you permit that I
stand by your side?”
“Remain at the station to which you have been assigned, dear lad. My
choice would be to have you close by me; but every hand is needed, and
I am certain you and Richard will count as men during the engagement.”
I tried in vain to make a fitting reply, but the words refused to come
when most needed, and it was possible only to press his hand warmly in
token of my good intentions; yet at the same time there was a terrible
fear in my heart lest at the critical moment I might show myself a
coward.
“You can depend upon us both so long as we are alive,” Alec said, in a
tone so solemn that it was as if he had a premonition of sudden death.
“That is my true brother!” the commodore said proudly. “I have
no question but that you will prove yourself worthy to be called
Americans. Now I beg that you seek repose. A brave man cares well for
his body, lest it should be weaker than his will.”
“Have you slept?” Alec asked quickly.
“It would be impossible; and, besides, the belief that we shall soon
meet the enemy has so refreshed me that I no longer need rest.”
“It would be useless for me to lie down, Oliver. How could I sleep when
within a few hours my brother is to show the world that no braver man
than he lives?”
“It is not well that praise be bestowed before having been earned, Alec
dear,” the commodore said, with a low laugh. “I promise to do my best;
and after the victory has been won you shall say what you please.”
Then we three paced to and fro on the quarterdeck, the commodore’s arm
yet around his brother’s neck, and I holding him firmly by the hand,
for in that hearty clasp I found much to give me courage.
It was in this fashion that the light of a new day found us, and I
believe the marines, who paced to and fro guarding the commander’s
quarters, shortened their beats, lest by advancing too near they break
in upon what was neither more nor less than a season of devotion.
As the light grew stronger, from this vessel and from that came signs
of life, until the still air was vibrant with the hum of voices, and it
seemed good to be alive.
I had, for the time being, forgotten that the day was come on which
our people believed we would be brought yard-arm to yard-arm with
the enemy, until startled almost into timorousness by a cry from the
lookout:--
“Sail ho! Sail ho!”
It seemed in the highest degree improbable that the anticipations of
our people were to be so soon realized, and yet I found myself, with
many another, gazing out over the lake in the expectation of seeing our
enemy coming toward us.
Nor were we disappointed.
The morning breeze was feeble and gave indications of soon dying away
entirely, yet Commodore Barclay had at last left his place of refuge,
driven out by lack of provisions, for there on the sparkling waters
could be seen the British squadron heading west by south, making for
the North Foreland in quest of the supplies which the king’s army were
needing.
In a twinkling, as it were, Commodore Perry forgot all else save that
the fleet for which he had waited so long was in sight. Wresting
himself free from us two lads, he was on the instant transformed from
the loving brother and dear friend into the eager, valiant commander.
Hurriedly, speaking so quickly that one order was almost merged into
the other, he gave the word for signals to be hoisted, and within three
minutes from the time the lookout reported a sail, our bunting was
flying.
“Enemy in sight!”
“Get under way!”
These commands were given by the tiny flags which floated from the
_Lawrence_, and in a twinkling every vessel in the fleet was alive with
hurrying, eager men, rushing here and there like unto a swarm of bees.
The premonitions of the previous night had not been vain; at last the
enemy for which we searched was in full view, and now nothing save rank
cowardice could prevent an encounter.
I quaked inwardly, not because a battle was about to be fought, but
lest while it was waging I should shame my father by proving myself a
coward; and, in fact, I was near to being one at that moment, when it
was shown we would have an opportunity of measuring strength with the
foe.
Timid though I was, and fearing for myself, I yet had enough of Yankee
courage to weigh well the chances for or against us.
The wind was blowing light from the southwest, and on the horizon were
low-hanging clouds which gave promise of rain. There was not weight
enough in the breeze to admit of our manœuvring freely, and I wondered
how it might be possible for the commodore to bring the fleet into
close quarters, as old Silas had declared was necessary in order to
equalize the weight of metal and force of men.
But even a coward must have been inspired by the scene around him.
Here, there, and seemingly everywhere, were Yankee sailors making ready
for the fray, and all working with an eagerness which told how fearful
they were lest this opportunity, so long sought, should be lost.
The clanking of chains as the anchors were hove apeak; cries of the
men as they cheered each other in the work which preceded the carnage;
the shrill whistles of the boatswains as they thus repeated the orders
given by the officers, and the beat of drums summoning men to the
shedding of blood, would have aroused the most timorous, causing even a
coward to feel a sense of pride that his countrymen were so willing to
try conclusions with a foe that was superior in strength.
Alec and I hastened to our stations, even though knowing that many
hours must elapse before the guns could be used, and there we found old
Silas, as might confidently have been expected, overlooking all the
details lest he should be caught napping.
“Well, lads, the Britishers have shown themselves at last!” he cried,
when we came up. “I felt in my bones last night that the time was nigh
at hand when we might show the king’s men they had no right on these
’ere waters; but never counted on their comin’ to the scratch so early.
We’ve got plenty of time to give them a sound drubbin’, ’twixt now an’
sunset.”
“There’s time enough,” Alec said, speaking carelessly, as if used to
such work; “but how are we to get at them? There isn’t weight enough in
this wind to move the brig, save at a snail’s pace.”
“I’m allowin’ that the commodore will find a way to give us the chance
we want. Look at him now! If yonder fleet gets off without our havin’ a
fair show at ’em, it’ll break his heart!”
“All that I agree to; but even my brother can’t command the wind.”
“He can do what will amount to the same thing, lad, and before
nightfall you won’t complain because we didn’t burn our powder in
proper fashion. Two or three boats’ crews ahead with a tow-line will
make this old hooker walk through the water as if the girls at home
had hold of her.”
“Do you fancy the Britishers will stand still while we’re towing our
fleet into position?” Alec asked with a laugh.
“Ay, lad; unless they’re willin’ to show the white feather in face of
a weaker force. There’s nothin’ save the power of Him who rules all
things, that can prevent a battle this day, so set to work an’ get this
’ere piece into proper trim, for once we’re lyin’ yard-arm to yard-arm
with Barclay’s flag-ship there won’t be much chance for cleanin’ up.”
I noted with no little surprise that all the men around me were
eager for the coming battle. There were no loud boasts, but on every
countenance could be read a desire to stand face to face with the
enemy, and nowhere did I see any show of fear.
The men did not jest as was their wont; there was no shuffling around
lazily, but each was on the alert, eager to do his full duty, and
seemingly anxious lest something should be left undone that otherwise
might work to give us the victory.
And that we would win the battle I believe every one was confident,
although equally positive that much blood must be shed before the end
was attained.
The bravest or the most cowardly knew beyond a peradventure that e’er
the day was come to an end many of them would be still in death, or
suffering from horrible wounds, but yet all wore a smile of content.
It was enough that the British commodore had at last given them the
opportunity of proving their metal.
While the bustle of the final preparations could be heard on every
hand, the crews were piped to breakfast under orders from our commodore
himself, for Oliver Perry was one who looked well after the comfort or
well-being of every man in his command, however much he might abuse his
own body.
Food would have choked me at that moment when death was so near at
hand, staring in the face every individual member of the crew; but Alec
made a hearty meal, and, as I now look back on the events of that day,
I realize the fact that those who showed the most bravery ate the most
heartily.
Old Silas behaved as if appetite increased with each succeeding
mouthful, and whenever he took a sip from his hook-pot of tea, it was
to drink a health to those who would lead us into the game of death.
“We’re in rare luck!” he cried, when his breakfast was ended because
the mess-kid had been emptied. “I ain’t sayin’ but what we deserve it,
after chasin’ all over Lake Erie to find the Britishers; but yet at the
same time it’s sheer luck to get them where there’s no runnin’ away
from a fight, an’ they shall have enough of it before this day has come
to an end.”
“You may be ended before the day is,” a red-faced sailor cried, as if
trying the courage of our gunner.
“An’ supposin’ I am, lad, what better endin’ can an old shell-back like
me ask for? So that the stars and stripes float over yonder fleet when
the sun sets, it’s enough. As against givin’ England a proper lesson,
my life don’t amount to the snap of a finger! It will be a glorious way
of gettin’ out of this world.”
While such conversation as this was being carried on, clouds obscured
the sun’s face, and the rain drove those of us who disliked a wetting
between decks, for until this moment we had been where a view could be
had of the enemy.
No one paid any particular attention to what gave promise of being only
a shower, save that the wind might come with the water, and thus give
the Britishers a chance to continue on toward the North Foreland, where
they could fight under cover of their shore-batteries; but it still
held reasonably calm.
In less than ten minutes the clouds had dispersed, and the weather-wise
among us predicted that a breeze would soon follow.
“We shall get enough to take us out from among these islands, lads, and
I venture to say it won’t help Johnnie Bull to any great extent!” old
Silas cried gleefully. “All we need now is to have plenty of powder an’
ball near at hand, for there’ll be little time to travel from the gun
to the magazine after our work is begun.”
The British were indeed waiting patiently for us, or, at least, so it
seemed to me, although Alec said, later in the day, they could not have
done otherwise without writing themselves down the veriest cowards.
The enemy’s fleet lay just off our anchorage, swinging to and fro as
the wind veered, and we could hear the sound of drums and fifes calling
the men to quarters.
Our crew gathered on deck again when the heaviest of the shower was
over, and all could see Commodore Perry as he paced restlessly to and
fro, watching for an opportunity to strike the long-deferred blow.
The breeze which had been predicted sprang up, but not with such
strength as filled our sails; and after waiting anxiously fifteen
minutes or more in the hope that it might be increased, Lieutenant
Forrest gave the command which all hands were expecting:--
“Boats’ crews to their stations! Clear away, and let fall! Work lively,
lads, and we’ll see what effect a white-ash breeze will have on the
brigs! Move with a will, for the flag-ship must be the first to tackle
yonder enemy!”