THE BATTLE.
After reading over what has been set down, I am afraid that I have made
it appear much as if the commodore, old Silas, Alec, and myself were
the only Americans present at the battle of Lake Erie.
That I have said too much regarding my own fears and hopes is positive,
and in these last pages I will try to remedy the matter by speaking of
the battle as I have heard old and experienced men, who were present,
describe it, halting here only so long as may be necessary to explain
that Alec Perry was not dangerously wounded.
Every one who saw him fall felt certain he had received his death-blow.
During fully a moment the commodore was convinced of the same; but
within a very short time after I flung myself down by his side, the
dear lad revived sufficiently to speak, and the terrible load was
lifted from my heart.
Alec was badly bruised, as indeed any one would likely be who had
been struck twice by splinters, but the injuries were not serious,
and he refused decidedly to present himself before Dr. Parsons, as I
suggested and even urged.
While we two lay there, I trying to make out if my comrade was nigh to
death, Lieutenant Yarnall came up, looking more ghastly than any man
I had seen since the action began. His nose had been cut through by
a splinter, and was swollen until it resembled a huge piece of liver
rather than anything I can bring to mind. He was bleeding from several
wounds, but his courage was in nowise injured.
“All the officers in my division have been cut down, sir, and I would
like to have others,” he said, saluting gravely as if on parade.
“I have no more to give you,” the commodore replied, returning the
salute. “You must endeavor to make out alone.”
“Very well, sir,” and the first officer of the _Lawrence_ returned
through that storm of cannon-balls and musket-bullets to his station
as calmly as he might have done had we simply been firing a friendly
salute.
Now here is a description of the battle from the beginning up to this
time, as I have seen it written down by one who was more familiar with
the details than I, for enshrouded in smoke, and a novice in such
matters, I know no more than what happened immediately around me:--
“Perry[4] soon perceived that he was yet too far distant to damage the
enemy materially, so he ordered word to be sent from vessel to vessel
by trumpet for all to make sail, bear down upon Barclay, and engage in
close combat.
“The order was transmitted by Captain Elliott, who was the second
in command, but he failed to obey it himself. His vessel was a fast
sailer, and his men were the best in the squadron, but he kept at a
distance from the enemy, and continued firing his long guns.
“Perry, meanwhile, pressed on with the _Lawrence_, accompanied by the
_Scorpion_, _Ariel_, and _Caledonia_; and at meridian exactly, when
he supposed he was near enough for execution with his carronades, he
opened the first division of his battery on the starboard side of the
_Detroit_. His balls fell short, while his antagonist and her consorts
poured upon the _Lawrence_ a heavy storm of round shot from their long
guns, still leaving the _Scorpion_ and _Ariel_ almost unnoticed.
“The _Caledonia_, meanwhile, engaged with the _Hunter_, but the
_Niagara_ kept at a respectful distance from the _Queen Charlotte_,
and gave that vessel an opportunity to go to the assistance of the
_Detroit_. She passed the _Hunter_, and, placing herself astern of the
_Detroit_, opened heavily upon the _Lawrence_, now, at a quarter past
twelve, only musket-shot distance from her chief antagonist.
“For two hours the gallant Perry and his devoted ship bore the brunt
of the battle with twice his force, aided only by the schooners on
his weather bow and some feeble shots from the distant _Caledonia_,
when she could spare time from her adversary, the _Hunter_. During
that tempest of war his vessel was terribly shattered. Her rigging was
nearly all shot away; her sails were torn in shreds; her spars were
battered into splinters; her guns were dismounted; and she lay upon the
waters almost a helpless wreck.
“The carnage on her deck had been terrible. Out of one hundred and
three sound men that composed her officers and crew when she went into
action, twenty-two were slain and sixty-one were wounded. Perry’s
little brother had been struck down by a splinter at his side, but soon
recovered....
“While the _Lawrence_ was being thus terribly smitten, officers and
crew were anxiously wondering why the _Niagara_--the swift, stanch,
well-manned _Niagara_--kept aloof, not only from her prescribed
antagonist, the _Queen Charlotte_, now battling the _Lawrence_, but
the other assailants of the flag-ship. Her commander himself had
passed the order for close conflict, yet he kept far away; and when
afterward censured, he pleaded, in justification of his course, his
perfect obedience to the original order to keep at ‘half cable length
behind the _Caledonia_ on the line.’ It may be said that his orders to
fight the _Queen Charlotte_, who had left _her_ line and gone into the
thickest of the fight with the _Lawrence_ and her supporting schooners,
were quite as imperative, and that it was his duty to follow. This
he did not do until the guns of the _Lawrence_ became silent, and no
signals were displayed by, nor special orders came from Perry. These
significant tokens of dissolution doubtless made Elliott believe that
the commodore was slain, and he himself had become the chief commander
of the squadron.
“He then hailed the _Caledonia_, and ordered Lieutenant Turner to
leave the line and bear down upon the _Hunter_ for close conflict,
giving the _Niagara_ a chance to pass for the relief of the _Lawrence_.
The gallant Turner instantly obeyed, and the _Caledonia_ fought her
adversary nobly. The _Niagara_ spread her canvas before a freshening
breeze that had just sprung up; but, instead of going to the relief of
the _Lawrence_, thus silently pleading for protection, she bore away
toward the head of the enemy’s squadron, passing the American flag-ship
to the windward, and leaving her exposed to the still galling fire
of the enemy, because, as was alleged in extenuation of this apparent
violation of the rules of naval warfare and the claims of humanity,
both squadrons had caught the breeze and moved forward, and left the
crippled vessel floating astern.”
It was only by the cessation of the shocks which told of the brig’s
having been struck by a ball that we on board knew the enemy was moving
forward, leaving us little else than a hulk upon the waters.
Then the smoke of battle which had hung over our decks like a shroud
was wafted away by the wind; and we saw the _Niagara_, half a mile or
more on the larboard beam, engaged with the _Queen Charlotte_, _Lady
Prevost_, and _Hunter_.
It was as if we had been cast aside as worthless, and that the
remainder of the fight would be between those who had suffered less
injury.
Perhaps, under another commander, such would have been the case; but
Oliver Perry was never one to be cast aside or to shrink from any
danger, and it was not in his mind to remain at a distance.
First, however, he gave heed to the gallant fellows who had been
disabled; and Alec and I walked by his side as he moved from one to
another of those who as yet had not been carried into the dismantled
cockpit.
There were but fourteen men and boys on board who had not been injured
more or less severely, and among them no more than two guns’ crews
could have been made up.
While we were amidships, Alec and I took advantage of the opportunity
to run into the ward-room, where Dr. Parsons, now working alone because
all his assistants had been summoned on deck to aid in working the
brig, was performing his cruel-looking offices of mercy.
It was for the purpose of learning if old Silas yet lived that
we ventured into the horrible place, strewn here and there with
dismembered limbs or fragments of human flesh, and to our great joy the
gunner had so far recovered from his faintness as to be quarrelling
with the surgeon because that officer refused to allow him to go on
deck.
“A bit knocked up, lads; but with blood enough left in my veins to give
the Britishers another chance at drawin’ it. This ’ere sawbones is
takin’ too much on himself, when he sets up that Silas Boyd shan’t do
his duty.”
“There is nothing left for you to do, Master Boyd,” Alec said, as he
laid his hand upon the old man’s head. “The _Lawrence_ is out of the
fight just now, and even though she wasn’t, I question if you could
find a serviceable gun aboard.”
“You’re not tellin’ me that the brig has struck her colors?” and the
old man would have sprung up but that we two lads held him down by main
strength.
“Not a bit of it. The blue flag is still flying; but the brig appears
to be little better than a wreck, and both squadrons have drawn off
from us.”
“And the fight? What kind of a turn is that takin’?”
“We appear to be holding our own.”
“No more? No more than holdin’ our own, lad?”
“I cannot see that we gain any advantage; but the flag-ship is the only
craft which has been so badly used.”
The commodore’s voice from above summoned us to the deck, and as we
clambered up the narrow companionway I heard old Silas giving the
surgeon a tongue-lashing because the latter had threatened to tie the
gunner to a stanchion if he persisted in his attempts to leave the
cockpit.
When Alec and I were come on deck again an exclamation of surprise
burst from our lips.
We had left the commodore clad in the garb of a sailor, smoke-begrimed
and covered with the blood of others to whom he had lent a helping hand.
Now he was arrayed in the uniform of an officer in the American navy,
from the epaulets to the sword, and looked to my eye more like a
victor than one whose ship had been literally torn to pieces beneath
his feet.
I stared at him in astonishment; but Alec, going to his brother’s side,
asked in surprise:--
“What is the meaning of this, Oliver?”
“Of what, lad?”
“Why have you laid aside the clothes you wore in action?”
“It is well that not only my own men, but the enemy, shall recognize me
when I transfer my flag.”
Alec looked at the commodore in mute surprise, and for the moment I
believed our commander had lost his head.
“The _Niagara_ appears to be in good condition,” Perry said with a
smile, “and it is from her deck that I will direct the battle to a
glorious ending.”
I looked out over the waters, which were literally boiling and spouting
under the falling shot, asking myself how it might be possible for the
commodore to do as he had said, knowing full well that the _Lawrence_,
wreck as she was, could not be manœuvred.
“Lieutenant Yarnall,” Perry said, turning to the first officer, who
was bleeding from four or five wounds, with his face disfigured as I
have already related, “I leave the _Lawrence_ in your charge, with
discretionary powers. Hold out, or surrender, as your judgment and
the circumstances shall dictate. Have a boat lowered, and detail a
full complement of oarsmen, if it so be that number of unwounded men
be found aboard. Take down my pennant and the blue banner, for the
remainder of the fleet shall fight under both until victory is brought
out of this tangle.”
“Will you leave me here, Oliver?” Alec asked, when Lieutenant Yarnall
had set about obeying the orders.
“You shall go with me, lad, for it is well we two remain together while
it be possible.”
“And Richard?” the dear lad asked, noting the look of entreaty in my
eyes.
“He had best stay here; we cannot take too many into such peril, for it
will be no child’s play to pull through yonder storm of shot.”
“You need oarsmen, sir, and I question if enough can be found to man
the boat, without taking every one from the brig,” I said quickly,
distressed beyond measure at the thought that I might be separated from
my comrade.
“You shall go as a member of the boat’s crew,” the commodore replied
promptly, and at the same time kindly; “yet I am not certain it is a
friendly act to take you two lads through that deadly fire.”
“We would venture very much more, sir, for the sake of being with you,”
I made bold to say, and was rewarded for the speech by a kindly smile
from the man who on that day proved himself to be chief of a band
wherein every man was a hero.
At this point Lieutenant Yarnall reported that the required number of
unwounded men could not be mustered in the brig unless all the guns
were abandoned, and I stepped forward, for now was come the time when I
could make no claim of comradeship--in this hour of death the brothers
stood apart by themselves, out of my world, as it were.
“With this lad, I can give you four at the oars, sir,” the lieutenant
reported, and our commodore replied, with that smile which had come to
be in my eyes more precious than anything he could bestow:--
“It will do, Mr. Yarnall. The smaller the number the less to be put in
jeopardy of their lives. Is the boat away?”
“Ay, sir, all is ready, now that the lad will be taken on as an able
seaman.”
Obeying a gesture of the lieutenant’s, I went forward to the starboard
rail, beneath which was the tiny craft for the conveyance of the
commander-in-chief, and without venturing to presume upon any possible
claims of comradeship, took my place among the oarsmen.
As soon thereafter as might be, the commodore and Alec came over the
shattered rail, the former carrying under his arm the broad banner of
blue, and the pennant.
I had been eager to accompany the commander, and yet when I took my
station in the boat, and had a better view of that stretch of water
whereon it seemed that every square inch was covered by bullet or ball,
the chance of escaping with life seemed less than when we stood on the
deck of the _Lawrence_ exposed to the fire of the Britishers’ heaviest
guns.
“Little show of takin’ a cockle-shell like this across yonder stretch,
eh?” one of the seamen said, with a grin, observing the direction of my
glance, and most likely noting the sudden pallor of my face.
“It surely seems as if we would be cut to pieces before going fifty
yards from the brig’s side,” I replied, and certain am I that my voice
trembled like a coward’s, although at the moment I was not conscious of
what might rightly be called fear.
“That’s what I allow will happen,” the man said, as he stuffed his
mouth full of tobacco. “It’s a likely spot in which to swamp a boat,
yet I’m not so sure but that a decent man would choose to die there,
rather than in yonder hole where Dr. Parsons hacks an’ hews to his
heart’s content before the breath of life goes out.”
Perhaps it was some such reminder as this which I needed to give me the
proper amount of spirit, for once he spoke of the cockpit I felt such
a sense of relief at being free from it for the moment that there came
to me a certain degree of calmness, enabling me to greet our commander
properly when he came over the rail, followed by Alec.
It was as if my comrade shared in the glory which Commodore Perry had
already won, and yet I did not envy him the honor. He was a brave lad,
while I could be counted only as a timorous being whose courage was
like to fail him at the supreme moment, and I felt more pride in his
distinction of place than if our positions had been reversed.
Alec and his brother took their places in the stern-sheets, and the
latter cried to Lieutenant Yarnall and the other bleeding, brave
fellows who overhung the rail:--
“Do as you will with the _Lawrence_, Mr. Yarnall, and whatever may be
the turn of affairs, count on our speedily coming to your assistance.”
“God bless you, commodore!” was the gallant officer’s reply, and then
we left him on a sinking ship with only grievously wounded men as
shipmates and crew.
It was the commodore himself who gave the order for us to push off,
and, as if thinking we at the oars needed heartening lest we should
falter in the task after reaching that spot where the iron hail was
thickest, he wrapped the pennant around his shoulders, standing erect
while we pulled out to what seemed certain death.
Once we were clear of the brig it was as if the enemy knew full well
the precious cargo our boat carried, and understood that only by
compassing the commodore’s death could they hope to win the day, for on
the instant every gun was aimed at us, and every sharp-shooter on the
Britishers’ decks used us as a target.
I may live to be a very old man, and take part in many another battle,
but it is not possible I shall ever again find myself in such a deadly
shower as was poured upon us from the moment we left the side of the
shattered _Lawrence_.
The bullets struck everywhere around us; the cannon-balls made the
water boil and spout so high as to come over the gunwales until the
light craft was in great danger of being swamped; but, singularly
enough, not one found lodgment among us.
At that moment I believed a divine Providence was watching over our
commodore lest he should come to harm, and I have never since had good
reason to change my opinion.
Of a verity all the marines who wore red coats aimed their guns at
Perry, and we at the oars cried out to him that he must take such
shelter as was possible.
“It is proper the commander of a squadron show himself,” was all
the reply our entreaties could provoke, and finally I said to Alec,
emboldened now by the despair which came upon me with the thought
that the day was indeed lost if that bold spirit continued to present
himself as a mark for the British bullets:--
“Unless the commodore sits down, and takes care to hide himself from
sight of the enemy, I for one will lay down my oar, trusting that the
wind may blow us out of musket-shot range!”
“I stand by what the lad has said,” one of the seamen cried, and on the
instant every man stopped rowing, for there was not one aboard minded
to have any share in a martyr’s death.
“To your oars, lads, to your oars!” the commodore cried excitedly.
“Every second may be of the greatest value to us now!”
I had not the courage to oppose his will, but the eldest of the seamen
said decidedly:--
“We’re not warranted in disobeying orders, sir; but I for one will
never carry you to certain death, whatever may be the commission you
hold.”
And another added:--
“Cease to make yourself so conspicuous, sir, an’ you shall see how
readily we will obey the lightest order you choose to give, even though
knowin’ we go to our death. It is your life, not ours, which is of
importance this day.”
The gallant young officer looked at us for an instant as if minded to
administer some sharp reproof, and then I, who observed him closely,
saw the moisture gathering in his eyes as he said in a low tone:--
“You be brave lads, all; and at such a moment as this there shall be no
question of authority.”
Whereat he seated himself by Alec’s side, and the dear lad clasped his
brother’s neck closely as he looked at me with pride beaming from his
eyes.
The bunting was unwound from around the hero’s shoulders, and while he
presented quite as fair a target for the bullets, it did not seem to us
that he offered the enemy as much of an advantage.
Then we bent ourselves to the oars once more, pulling with every ounce
of strength that could be forced from our muscles, and heading straight
toward the _Niagara_ whereon was Captain Elliott, hugging to his heart
the belief that at last he was the sole commander of the American
squadron.
It is not for such as me to criticise the doings of one whom the
government had placed high in command, yet I say now, as I have a
thousand times since that terrible yet glorious day, that the commander
of the _Niagara_ kept aloof from the heat of battle with no other idea
in his mind save that he might rise to fame over the dead body of our
commodore.
To look back now in my mind’s eye on what I saw then, it seems like
relating the story of some miracle to say that we came out of that
murderous fire, pulling alongside the _Niagara_ in safety.
Our boat was literally riddled with bullets, and yet not one of us had
received a wound. Every oar was shattered, but we worked with such
timber as remained, until our hero had been put in a position which
enabled him to win the day.
Even now, the proudest memory of mine is that I did my share in winning
the battle of Lake Erie, timorous lad though I am.
It was Captain Elliott himself who met Commodore Perry at the
_Niagara’s_ gangway, and he stared as if facing a ghost, when our
commander saluted him ceremoniously, for he believed him dead.
“How is the day going, sir?” Elliott asked, as soon as he could control
his voice sufficiently to speak.
“Badly, Mr. Elliott, badly. I have lost nearly all my men; the
_Lawrence_ is a wreck, and I am transferring my flag and the banner to
this ship. What are the gunboats doing so far astern? Why do they not
bear their full share of the burden?”
“With your permission I will go to ascertain the reason, and bring them
up.”
“Very well, sir. Lose no time, and see to it that they come to close
quarters without delay.”
Then we, who had come out of death, as it were, clambered up on the
_Niagara’s_ deck, cheered to the echo by every man who saw us, and the
officer who for a few moments had believed himself first in command,
took Commodore Perry’s place in the stern-sheets of the boat with a
full crew at the oars to carry him rearward.
FOOTNOTES:
[4] Lossing’s “War of 1812.”