THE BATTLE ON LAKE ERIE
BUILDING WAR-SHIPS AND GUN-BOATS IN THE WILDERNESS--LIFTING THE
VESSELS OVER A SAND-BAR--FORTUNATELY THE BRITISH COMMANDER WAS
FOND OF PUBLIC ENTERTAINMENTS--THE TWO SQUADRONS AND THEIR CREWS
COMPARED--THE ADVANTAGE OF A CONCENTRATED FORCE WAS WITH THE
BRITISH--ON THE WAY TO MEET THE ENEMY--“TO WINDWARD OR TO LEEWARD
THEY SHALL FIGHT TO-DAY”--THE ANGLO-SAXON CHEER--THE BRUNT OF
THE FIGHT BORNE BY THE FLAG-SHIP--A FRIGHTFUL SLAUGHTER THERE
IN CONSEQUENCE--WHEN PERRY WORKED THE GUNS WITH HIS OWN HANDS,
AND EVEN THE WOUNDED CRAWLED UP THE HATCH TO LEND A HAND AT THE
SIDE-TACKLES--AN ABLE FIRST LIEUTENANT--WOUNDED EXPOSED TO THE FIRE
WHEN UNDER THE SURGEON’S CARE--THE LAST GUN DISABLED--SHIFTING
THE FLAG TO THE _NIAGARA_--CHEERS THAT WERE HEARD ABOVE THE ROAR
OF CANNON--WHEN THE WOUNDED OF THE _LAWRENCE_ CRIED “SINK THE
SHIP!”--DRIVING THE _NIAGARA_ THROUGH THE BRITISH SQUADRON--THE
WHITE HANDKERCHIEF FLUTTERING FROM A BOARDING-PIKE--“WE HAVE MET
THE ENEMY, AND THEY ARE OURS.”
This is the story of Perry’s victory. Oliver Hazard Perry, “a zealous
naval officer, twenty-seven years of age,” of the rank of master
commandant, was in command of a fleet of gun-boats at Newport,
Rhode Island, during all the glorious days when Hull, Decatur, and
Bainbridge were winning laurels on the high seas. It was a most irksome
service, at best, for the sole purpose of the gun-boats was that of
the quills of a porcupine, but when other men of the navy were abroad
showing teeth, the task assigned to Perry was beyond endurance. For
a time his appeals for a change were unheeded, but at last, when the
operations on Lake Ontario under Commodore Chauncey, and at the foot
of Lake Erie, under Lieutenant Elliott, had made an impression on the
Navy Department, Perry was ordered to go with “all of the best men of
his flotilla” to join Chauncey. It was on February 17, 1813, that his
orders reached him, and before night fifty of his men were on their way
to the west in sleds. Others followed, and on the 22d Perry himself,
with a brother of thirteen, who was eager for adventures, started over
the long road--a road so long that, though the sleighing was good, they
did not reach Sackett’s Harbor until March 3d. For two weeks Perry
remained there, awaiting an expected attack from the British that did
not come, and then he started on for what was then called Presqu’ Isle,
but is now the city of Erie, Pennsylvania.
[Illustration: _O. H. Perry_
_From an engraving by Forrest of the portrait by Jarvis._]
Erie had been chosen as the base of operations for gaining control
of Lake Erie for a variety of reasons, the chief being that it had a
harbor which was not easy of access by the enemy, that other parts of
the lake could be readily reached from it, and that supplies could be
sent to it conveniently from Pittsburg by the way of the Alleghany
River, that was navigable, after a fashion, to Lake Chautauqua, or
almost to within sight of Lake Erie. The construction of a small
squadron of gun-boats and two brigs had been commenced there under an
experienced fresh-water seaman, named Captain Daniel Dobbins.
Reaching Black Rock, at the head of the Niagara River, Perry inspected
the navy-yard that was then in charge of Lieutenant Petigru (Elliott
had returned to Sackett’s Harbor), and made note of the vessels there
that would be of use in the lake service, and then hastened forward,
travelling in a sleigh on what was then the usual highway of the
along-shore frontiersmen--the ice on Lake Erie. On the way he stopped
at a tavern, that then, and for many years afterward, stood just west
of Cattaraugus Creek (a famous smuggling resort in its day). Here
Captain Perry learned from his host, who had just returned from a trip
across the lake, that the British knew all about the ship-building at
Erie, and that they intended coming over to clear out the yard there.
[Illustration: Port of Buffalo in 1815.]
On reaching Erie, Captain Perry found that the keels of two twenty-gun
brigs had been laid at the mouth of Cascade Creek; two gun-boats were
nearly planked up at the mouth of Lee’s Run (“between the present Peach
and Sassafras Streets”), and the keel of a third was stretched on the
blocks. To defend these there was a company of sixty volunteers, while
Dobbins had also organized the ship-yard hands into a company. But
there were neither arms nor ammunition for a fight, and so Dobbins was
sent to Buffalo to get them, while Perry hastened to Pittsburg to hurry
on some additional carpenters coming from Philadelphia, to look after
the casting of cannon-balls, the forwarding of rope and canvas, and
other matters.
On returning to Erie, Perry found that the work had been pushed by the
master shipwright, Noah Brown, of New York City, and that Dobbins had
brought back a twelve-pounder gun and some arms. The work on the ship
was of particular interest, for white and black oak, and chestnut-trees
for frames and planking, and pine for the decks, were growing handy by.
A tree whose branches swayed to the fierce lake breezes of the morning,
was often an integral part of a war-ship when the sun went down at
night. The gun-boats were floated early in May, and on the 24th the two
brigs were launched.
But Perry did not see these brigs take the water. He had learned that
Commodore Chauncey’s sailors and the American soldiers were to attack
Fort George, near the mouth of the Niagara River. Getting into a
row-boat with four men, Captain Perry started for Buffalo on the night
of the 23d. There was a head-wind all night, but Perry reached Buffalo
the next evening, passing down the river within musket-shot of the
enemy. Perry reached a village near Grand Island, where he proposed
to go ahead on foot, until his sailors captured a horse on the public
common--“an old pacing one that could not run away, and brought him
in, rigged a rope from the boat into a bridle, and borrowed a saddle
without either stirrup, girth, or crupper.” On this Perry mounted,
and holding fast by the horse’s mane, ambled into the camp at the foot
of the river. In the attack on Fort George, on the morning of May 27,
1813, Perry was the most active man in the fleet, rowing hither and yon
in directing the landing parties, and constantly exposing himself to
the fire of the enemy. But the result of the battle was the complete
success of the Americans, and the British abandoned the whole Niagara
River.
The advantage of this success to Perry was at once manifest, for the
route from Shajackuda Creek up the Niagara River was opened, and
the vessels lying there, including the _Caledonia_ captured by the
brilliant dash of Elliott, were released.
Loading this little squadron of five vessels with all the stores at
Black Rock, Perry started on the morning of June 6, 1813, to “track”
them up the Niagara to Lake Erie. “Tracking” is a kind of work not
unfamiliar even now to canal and river sailors, and lake sailors in
those days knew all about it. A long line was stretched out from each
vessel along the shore, and then sailors and soldiers clapped on and
walked away with the rope. There were a few yoke of oxen to help, but
they had a current of from five to seven miles an hour to overcome, and
they were six days getting their vessels out of the river. Sailing
from Buffalo on the 13th, they dodged the enemy’s fleet of five
vessels, mounting forty-four guns, that hove in sight just as Erie was
reached, and so made their port in safety, bringing a cargo that was
indispensable.
Meantime Perry was so overworked that he was stricken with a bilious
remittent fever, but he did not by any means give way to it. The
newly arrived vessels were anchored in the bay off Cascade Creek, and
thereafter their crews were drilled under Perry’s personal supervision
“several hours each day” in the work of handling the guns and ships.
And so were all the men under Perry’s command. But the number of
the men was a matter of the greatest worry. The two brigs had been
launched, and they, with the three gun-boats, were soon fitted with
sails, rigging, and guns, but crews to man them were not to be had. To
add to the distress of the young commander the Government at Washington
sent him two orders (received on July 15th and 19th), to co-operate
with General Harrison, who commanded the American land forces not far
from Sandusky. Worse yet, word came that the British had a new and
powerful vessel, called the _Detroit_, about completed at Malden on
the Detroit River, and that Captain Robert H. Barclay, who had served
under Nelson at Trafalgar, had been placed in command of the British
fleet. A little later still Barclay actually appeared off Erie “to have
a proper look,” as a sailor might say, at what the Yankees had been
doing, and so prepare for clearing out the harbor.
Perry’s appeal for men became at this time stirring: “For God’s sake
and _yours_, and mine, send me men and officers, and I will have them
all in a day or two,” he wrote to Commodore Chauncey. He got some
men--“a motley set, blacks, soldiers, and boys.” The British historians
with one accord say that Perry’s men were all “picked men.” An American
can well afford to excuse them for thinking so when the result of the
fight this “motley set” made is considered; but it was a “scrub” crew.
However, by the end of July, having recruited among the landsmen of
the region a few men, Perry found that he had about three hundred
“effective officers and men, with which to man two twenty-gun brigs and
eight smaller vessels.”
Although an utterly inadequate force, Perry could no longer restrain
his anxiety to try the mettle of the enemy, and on Sunday, August 1,
1813, moved his vessels down to the bar that lies across the bay. He
found but four feet of water where six had previously existed, the
trend of the wind on this shoal-lake making such variations of depth
common. Perry had already provided means for lifting his new brigs
over the bar when the water was six feet deep, for they drew at least
eight feet, but now found the task greater than he had supposed.
However, after getting the smaller vessels over the bar and posting
them where they could make a good fight should the expected enemy
arrive, he set to work to lift the brigs over.
One of these brigs had been named the _Lawrence_. It was on June
1st of this year that Captain Lawrence sailed out of Boston in the
ill-fated _Chesapeake_ to meet the well-found _Shannon_, and was lost.
To commemorate the magnificent bravery of this officer, the Secretary
of the Navy had named one of the brigs the _Lawrence_. Perry chose that
one as his flagship. The other was called the _Niagara_. The crews of
the fleet set to work on the flag-ship first. Big scows built on a
model that would let them lie close alongside the _Lawrence_ from stem
to stern were filled with water until their decks were awash. Then they
were secured to the _Lawrence_ in such a way that they could not rise
without lifting her. Meantime the guns and all heavy weights had been
removed from the _Lawrence_, and the next task was to pump the water
out of the scows so that they would lift the man-of-war. When this was
done the _Lawrence_ was hauled forward on the bar until hard aground,
when the scows were once more filled and lowered and secured to the
ship, and a second lift taken, which fortunately carried her clean
over. The repetition of this work carried the _Niagara_ over as well,
and Perry at last had his fleet in deep water. It is easy to tell how
the work was done, but it was a job that kept the crews busy day and
night from Sunday the 1st until Thursday the 5th of August, 1813.
As good luck would have it, this time passed without a glimpse of the
enemy. The people of Port Dover, Canada, had felt the great honor which
the presence along-shore of a real British captain who had fought
under Nelson conferred upon them. Colonial people are stirred so to
this day. To show their appreciation of the honor, the Doverites must
needs give a banquet. And Captain Barclay was as fond of festivities
as Burgoyne was. Like Burgoyne, he missed an opportunity by attending
to festivities instead of to duty. While Perry’s men lifted and hauled
and strained to get the _Lawrence_ across the bar at Erie, Barclay was
standing, gorgeous with gold lace, before the much-honored people of
Dover and saying:
“I expect to find the Yankee brigs hard and fast on the bar when I
return, in which predicament it will be but a small job to destroy
them.”
He arrived one day too late, however. The _Niagara_ was over the
worst of the bar, and her crew were at the capstan heaving her afloat
when the bold skipper from Trafalgar and Dover appeared. The _Ariel_,
a schooner carrying four twelve-pounders and thirty-six men, and the
_Scorpion_, a gun-boat that carried thirty-five men and two guns, a
long thirty-two and a short one, were sent to meet the squadron and
hold it in check until the other ships could be made ready. But they
did not have a chance to hold anything except the wind, for Barclay,
seeing the Yankees all outside the bar, squared away for Malden, where
the new _Detroit_ was lying.
For several days Perry cruised to and fro across the lake looking for
the enemy, and then, on August 10th, came Lieutenant Jesse D. Elliott
with one hundred officers and superior men. There is no doubt about the
quality of these men, for some of them were from the _Constitution_.
They had seen the wreck of the _Guerrière_ rolling its guns under water
after they had finished shooting at her. Elliott was placed in command
of the _Niagara_, and the squadron was now in fair condition to offer
fight to the enemy, even though they had added their new brig _Detroit_
to their forces. So Perry determined to sail up the lake and join
forces with General Harrison.
In that day Put-in Bay, lying a little north and west of what is now
the city of Sandusky, Ohio, was counted one of the best harbors of
refuge on the lake. Properly speaking, it was no bay at all, but it
was in summer, as it is now, a lovely breadth of water surrounded by
a chain of islands, large and small. Here was a good anchorage in a
gale, and the main channel would admit easily the largest ship then
afloat on the lake. To Put-in Bay came Perry and his squadron on August
15th. Nothing was seen of the enemy, but near evening on the next day a
strange sail was seen dodging around what is now called Kelly’s Island,
and the _Scorpion_, that was out scouting, gave chase. A thunder-squall
came on about that time, and the schooner escaped among the islands.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF LAKE ERIE, SEPT. 10, 1813.]
The next day after this, August 17th, Perry took his squadron to the
point of the peninsula that forms Sandusky Bay and fired signal-guns to
apprise General Harrison, who was camped not far away, of the presence
of the American ships. On the night of the 19th General Harrison, his
staff, and a lot of soldiers and friendly Indians, came off to visit
the squadron and talk over plans for a descent upon Malden. Nothing
definite was decided on, however, for Harrison was not quite ready
to move, and so, on the 23d, the Harrison party having gone away,
Perry decided to have a look for himself at the new British ship at
Malden. But before he could carry out his purpose he was prostrated
by the bilious fever that had been upon him since he had brought the
five vessels out of Niagara River. And what was as bad, a very large
proportion of his men were in the same distressing condition. The fleet
surgeon, Dr. P. Usher Parsons, was himself so ill that he could not
walk, but was carried around on a cot to visit the sick, and there were
continually more than one hundred of the command prostrated.
This enterprise having been abandoned, the fleet anchored at Put-in
Bay once more on August 27th, and there a reinforcement of thirty-six
soldiers came on board from General Harrison to act as marines and
supply the places of the sick. But Perry remained sick for a week, and
it was not until September 1st that the squadron got away to look at
Malden. They got nothing more than a look, for the reason that Captain
Barclay kept his fleet under the protection of the shore batteries,
waiting for the completion of the _Detroit_. So Perry returned once
more to Put-in Bay, and there he remained until September 10, 1813, the
most famous date in the history of the Great Lakes, for then came the
battle known to every school-boy as “Perry’s Victory.”
Because this was a battle between squadrons, and the first of that
kind in American history, it is worth while considering in advance of
the story of the action, what each commander had under him. To begin
with the Americans: Perry had nine vessels--the brigs _Lawrence_,
_Niagara_, and _Caledonia_, the schooners _Ariel_, _Scorpion_,
_Somers_, _Porcupine_, and _Tigress_, and the sloop (single-masted
vessel) _Trippe_. The big new brigs were one hundred and ten feet long
and twenty-nine feet wide. They could have carried as merchantmen
three hundred tons say of coal or grain. The schooners could not have
carried more than from sixty to eighty tons of cargo, and the sloop
was the smallest of all. The big brigs were armed as salt-sea brigs
were--with two long twelves and eighteen short thirty-twos, and the
rest were armed with a heavy gun each, so that the squadron as a whole
in the battle threw, it is estimated, eight hundred and ninety-six
pounds of metal from fifty-four guns, of which the long guns threw two
hundred and eighty-eight pounds. On the day of battle, according to
the roll that drew prize-money, the total number of all the men and
boys who were connected with the fleet in any way was five hundred
and thirty-two. Of these, four hundred and sixteen (the highest
estimate) were on deck ready for the fray, and sixteen more (according
to Lossing), though on the sick-list, left their beds and went to
quarters--in all four hundred and thirty-two men, of whom one-fourth
were regular naval seamen, one-fourth were raw militia, and one-fourth
were lake sailors.
To oppose this fleet Captain Barclay had six vessels. The _Detroit_
was a new ship (three square-rigged masts) and was a trifle larger
than the _Lawrence_. She was armed with one long eighteen, two long
twenty-fours, six long twelves, eight long nines, a short eighteen,
and a short twenty-four. She was therefore more than a match, when at
long range, for any three of the American ships so far as weight of
metal was concerned. At short range the preponderance was against her.
With the _Detroit_ were the ship _Queen Charlotte_, a sixth smaller
in size than the _Lawrence_; the _Lady Prevost_, a big schooner (230
tons measurement); the brig _Hunter_, of the size of the _Caledonia_;
the little schooner _Chippeway_, and the big sloop (90 tons) _Little
Belt_. All told, this squadron could throw four hundred and fifty-nine
pounds of metal at a broadside from sixty-four guns, one hundred
and ninety-five pounds being from long guns. The “smart Yankees,”
although Erie was in days’ travel much farther from a base of supplies
than the British were, had created a fleet under the eyes of the
British, whose superiority “in long-gun metal was as three to two,
and in carronade metal greater than two to one.” So says Roosevelt,
an American writer. But it must be observed by every sailorman that
this preponderance in weight of metal thrown was to a great extent
nullified by the distribution of the American heavy long guns among the
little merchant-schooners which Perry had been forced to adopt. For the
small vessels formed very unstable platforms, and a discharge of the
big guns set them rolling in a way to destroy accurate marksmanship.
The British had nothing larger than a long twelve on their little
vessels, and therein was wisdom. As the British had a tonnage of 1,460
in six vessels to the American 1,671 in nine vessels, there was a
concentration of power in the British fleet of which Captain Barclay
was able to take advantage. Nor was that all that may be said of the
superiority of Barclay’s vessels, for four of the British fleet were
built for war-ships. The difference between a war-ship and an armed
merchantman was in those days as great as the difference between a
protected cruiser and an armed merchantman in these would be. The sides
of the man-of-war were made of frames set so close together as to
almost touch each other, and were covered with thick planks. Doubtless
the walls of Barclay’s four large vessels were more than a foot thick,
and so proof against grape-shot. Five of Perry’s vessels had planking
no more than two and a half inches thick--they could be set aleak by
a musket-ball. Worse yet, four of Barclay’s vessels had big thick
bulwarks, behind which the men were protected from grape-shot, while
all of Perry’s except the two brigs were without bulwarks--their guns
and crews were all in plain view and exposed to the fire of the enemy.
As to the number of men in the British fleet it is certain that they
had four hundred and fifty men on deck, “fore and fit,” for this number
is to be counted up from the prisoners taken with the killed, as
admitted by the British authorities. But there were undoubtedly more.
Captain Barclay, as appears by the order-books of the British, had in
all one hundred and fifty picked men from the British Navy, eighty
Canadian lake sailors, and two hundred and forty soldiers from the 41st
Regiment of the line, and the Newfoundland Rangers--making four hundred
and seventy men, to which sum must be added thirty-two officers known
to have been in the fleet. This makes five hundred and two. As only
four hundred and fifty can be counted among the prisoners paroled and
taken to Camp Portage, it is fair to suppose that a few of the British
crews went forward to help their wounded friends who were taken to
Erie, that some escaped to the woods, and that more were killed than
the British admit.
However it may be figured, the British had more men in the battle than
Perry had, and they were concentrated on six ships where they could
be of service, instead of scattered among nine vessels of which the
majority were slow cargo-carriers, and sure to lag behind when the
order to close with the enemy was given. Since Perry had enough men to
work his guns, it may be conceded that his inferiority of numbers was
a matter of no consequence whatever. But when the concentration of the
enemy’s power in his large ships is considered--when it is recalled
that the _Detroit_, for instance, had seventeen long guns with which to
batter the _Lawrence_ that had only two as she headed the dash into
battle--seventeen long guns that could and did cut her to pieces before
she could bring anything to bear save one long twelve--a candid student
of history must say that the British squadron in its power, either for
attack or defence against an attacking squadron, was, at the least,
equal to the American squadron.
Last of all, and most important of all, comes a comparison of the
commanders. To a certain extent this comparison has already been made.
As has been told, Barclay, who was thirty-seven years old, came from
Trafalgar. Perry, who was but twenty-seven, came from the Newport
navy-yard. And that is to say that in experience Barclay was at least
“hull down to windward” of the American commander. But experience is
only one of the requisites of a great naval commander. It may seem
presumptuous for a mere civilian to declare what the qualities of such
a commander are; nevertheless, for the sake of a comparison of the two
commanders in this battle, and for the sake of having some sort of a
lead for trying the depth of them, it may be said that the acknowledged
heroes of sea-warfare have shown:
Foresight and unwearied energy in preparing for battle; a bull-dog
courage in the face of personal danger; a John-Paul-Jones tenacity of
purpose--the good-will to fight while a plank with a gun floated; a
calmness of observation--an eye uninfluenced by excitement when viewing
the enemy; a judgment swift to take advantage of every emergency; the
ability to inspire the men with confidence.
To a civilian it seems that after personal or animal courage the most
important characteristic of a great commander in a squadron battle
is the ability to take swift advantage of emergencies, for this,
of course, implies his tenacity of purpose and his ability to see
clear-eyed.
What Oliver Hazard Perry had done to show whether he had foresight and
unwearied energy has already been told. Whether he exhibited, in spite
of youth and lack of experience, the other characteristics of a great
naval commander the reader shall be able to judge from the story of the
battle itself.
It was on September 10, 1813.
September the tenth full well I ween,
In eighteen hundred and thirteen,
The weather mild, the sky serene,
Commanded by bold Perry,
Our saucy fleet at anchor lay
In safety, moor’d at Put-in Bay;
’Twixt sunrise and the break of day,
The British fleet
We chanced to meet;
Our admiral thought he would them greet
With a welcome on Lake Erie.
Goaded by an impending lack of provisions into trying to open
communications with Long Point, where the British had their supplies
both for the Malden army and the fleet, Captain Barclay had determined
to sail down the lake and meet Perry if he must. It was for this that
Perry had been hoping, and “’twixt sunrise and the break of day the
lookout at the mast-head of the _Lawrence_, peering into the mists
at the north and west, saw the white canvas of the British fleet and
bawled in voice heard throughout the fleet,”
“Sail ho!”
It was a cry that brought the officers of the squadron quickly to the
decks of their vessels. A moment later signals were fluttering from the
mast-head of the flag-ship saying “Enemy in sight,” and then others
arose which said literally “Under way to get.”
The shrill whistle of the boatswains and the hoarse cry of “All hands
up anchor” followed.
At this time a gentle southwest wind was blowing from over the Ohio
wilderness, bringing a light rain-squall, but the rain quickly passed
away and the breeze shifted to northerly. And so the little squadron
had to resort to oars as well as sails in beating its way out of the
island-locked harbor. There had been no need of a conference among the
officers of the squadron this morning, for they had gathered on the
_Lawrence_ the night before for that purpose and had heard their young
leader end his instructions with the famous words of Nelson, “If you
lay your enemy close alongside you cannot be out of your place.”
[Illustration: Perry and his Officers on Board the Flag-ship
_Lawrence_, Preparing for the Engagement.
_From an old wood-cut._]
Reaching the open lake the enemy was seen five or six miles away--on
the horizon line--the new sails of the _Detroit_ gleaming silver-white
in the morning sun. The wind, although the day was now beautiful to the
eye, was variable--first from one quarter and then from another, and
not too much of it from any direction. Heading away toward the British
squadron, Perry strove as a yachtsman might do to get to windward, but
finding that some of the islands were in the way he determined in order
to end the jockeying and reach the enemy the sooner that he would
square away under the lee of the islands. As he gave this order his
sailing-master ventured to remonstrate:
“Then you will have to engage the enemy to leeward, sir,” he said.
“I don’t care,” replied Perry; “to windward or to leeward, they shall
fight to-day.”
[Illustration: PERRYS VICTORY.
The Approach.
Ward’s “Naval Tactics.”]
But before the order could be executed the wind shifted once more and
came in a light but fairly steady breeze from the south shore. The
Americans now had the weather-gage and could run down with free sheets
upon the enemy. At this the American ships were formed in line of
battle upon the plan decided on the night before, and all hands cleared
ship for action. This done, the purser brought up from the cabin a roll
of bunting, which he handed to Captain Perry. Calling the attention of
the men to it as they stood at their guns, Perry spread it out before
their eyes--a field of blue bunting more than eight feet square, on
which had been sewed in big white muslin letters the last words of the
dying Lawrence:
“Don’t give up the ship.”
“Shall I hoist it?” said Perry to his men, and with one voice they
shouted:
“Aye, Aye, Sir!”
A minute later it was run up fluttering to the main truck, and there it
remained until one of the most remarkable events known to the history
of naval warfare demanded that it be lowered.
By the time this flag was set 10 o’clock had come, and the enemy was
still a long way off, for the wind was very light. So Perry, thoughtful
for the comfort of his men, ordered food and the usual allowance of
grog served to all hands. This done, the mess kits were cleared away,
and then men drew water in buckets from over the rail and thoroughly
wet down the decks fore and aft, so that powder scattered in the haste
of battle might be made harmless. And when these were wet other men
went to and fro sprinkling clean sand, gathered from the lake shore,
thickly over the deck. It was to give the men at the guns a good
foothold, even when the deck should be flooded with blood.
Meantime Barclay hove to and was awaiting the American squadron, with
his ships in line as close together as possible without interfering
with each other. As Perry drew near he saw that he would have to change
the arrangement of his line in order to place his largest vessels
against the largest of the enemy. Barclay had stretched his squadron
in a line square across the wind with the big _Detroit_ at the head of
it, save that the little schooner _Chippeway_ was under the _Detroit’s_
bows. To meet these two came Perry with the _Lawrence_, supported by
the little schooners _Ariel_ and _Scorpion_. Astern of the _Detroit_
were the _Hunter_ of ten guns and the _Queen Charlotte_ of seventeen.
Perry sent the little brig _Caledonia_ of three guns against the
_Hunter_, but she was to be supported by the _Niagara_, carrying two
long twelves and eighteen short thirty-twos, that was primarily to
engage the _Queen Charlotte_. Last of all in the British line were the
fine schooner _Lady Prevost_ with thirteen guns, and the _Little Belt_
sloop of three. The four remaining vessels of Perry’s squadron, the
_Somers_, _Porcupine, igress_ and _Trippe_, carrying five heavy guns
between them, were assigned to the task of whipping these two that
carried sixteen smaller guns.
This disposition made, the American ships drifted on steadily and in
silence toward the enemy. It was a trying wait, but Perry paced the
full length of his deck, stopping here and there to speak cheerfully
to the men. At one gun the crew were all from _Old Ironsides_--the
_Constitution_. The most of them were stripped to the waist and had
tied long handkerchiefs around their heads to keep their hair from
falling across their faces. Perry gave them one look.
“I need not say anything to _you_,” he said; “you know how to beat
those fellows.”
At another place he recognized men he had worked with at Newport, and
said:
“Ah, here are the Newport boys; they will do their duty, I warrant.”
Wherever he addressed the men he was cheered heartily, and that was an
omen worth keeping in mind.
It was at 10.15 A.M. that everything was put in order for the battle,
but because the wind was light no less than an hour and a half was
passed in reaching the enemy. Indeed, even when 11.45 A.M. had come,
the flag-ships were still a mile apart, while the little gun-boats at
the tail of the American fleet had lagged far behind. A mile was a long
range for even the long guns of that day, but the mental strain of the
prolonged wait had proved too much for British impatience. A bugle rang
with the thrilling signal to begin action, a single long gun on the
_Detroit’s_ deck belched flame and smoke, and a round black ball came
skipping over the smooth water toward the Yankees. The battle was on!
Hearty cheers came with the boom of that gun.
[Illustration: The Battle of Lake Erie.
_From an old engraving._]
One must needs hear the thin quaver of “_Vive le_” this and “_Vive
le_” that, of some Latin race to fully appreciate the power of an
Anglo-Saxon cheer. It is significant of the power of the dominant race.
But this was a family feud--it was Anglo-Saxon against Anglo-Saxon, and
Perry’s men heard the bold shout with smiles.
A moment later another ball, better aimed, crashed through the bulwarks
of the Yankee flagship and some of the landsmen shivered. But Perry,
tall, broad-shouldered, clear-eyed, faced them from the quarter deck
and said “Steady boys, steady!”
And that was enough. Not a man flinched--not one man flinched on the
deck of the _Lawrence_ thereafter. Barclay was anxious to fight at long
range, of course, but Perry was for a contest yard-arm to yard-arm.
For ten minutes he held on his course without replying, but Stephen
Champlin, who commanded the little _Scorpion_, was eager, and so let
drive the first gun from the American side. As it happened, he also
fired the last shot of the battle. At 11.35 A.M. the _Lawrence_ was
near enough to the _Detroit_ to satisfy Perry, who opened fire with
the long twelve on the bow; the _Caledonia_, that was astern of him,
followed, while the _Niagara_, next in line, began to fire the long
twelve also, though it was at very long range. Meantime the _Scorpion_
and _Ariel_ were doing their best, of course. The squadrons became
fogged in with smoke--a smoke bank in which the darting flashes of the
guns tore long rifts, and which the variable breeze swayed hither and
yon as it swelled on the air.
[Illustration: First View of Perry’s Victory.
_From an engraving of a drawing by Corné._]
In a few minutes the advantage which the British commander held
in his concentration of power over the scattered weight of the
American metal--the gathering of his long guns on the large ships as
well--became apparent. For the _Lawrence_ was about as near to the
_Hunter_ and the _Queen Charlotte_ as she was to the _Detroit_, and all
three of these ships concentrated their fire upon her, while Perry made
sail to close in on the _Detroit_. Even the _Lady Prevost_ was able to
reach out with her three long guns to tear the life out of the Yankee
flagship.
How long could the American commander and his ship stand such pelting
as that? For more than two hours. At noon his short guns were still
unable to reach the _Detroit_, and he passed the word by trumpet down
his line ordering all the vessels to close as rapidly as possible with
the enemies to which they had been assigned. Every vessel got this
order--Elliott on the _Niagara_, himself passed it--and every officer
except Elliott obeyed it as well as the faint wind would permit.
But as the Americans closed in the three British ships--the _Detroit_,
the _Hunter_ and the _Queen Charlotte_--formed a crescent around one
side and the stern of the American flagship, the _Hunter_ taking a
place where she could fairly rake the _Lawrence_ aft and fore, and
the _Lawrence_ was supported only by the _Ariel_ and the _Scorpion_.
There were but seven long guns on the three American vessels actually
engaged, to thirty-two on the British vessels that were pelting the
Yankee flagship. But in spite of such hopeless odds, Perry drove his
ship into the thick of it until within half a musket shot of the
_Detroit_, and there worked his guns, both long and short, for life.
[Illustration: “Perry’s Sieg”--A German View of the Victory on Lake
Erie.
_From an old engraving._]
As he stood on the quarter-deck, cheering his men, his little brother
of thirteen stood beside him, wholly undismayed. The balls came
crashing through the bulwarks, hurling unfortunates as mangled corpses
across the deck, and driving the radiating splinters like jagged
arrows into those who stood near by. The blood of wounded and dead
splashed and flowed across the deck. The men pushed aside the limbs
and dismembered bodies of their shipmates when working the guns. The
surgeon’s assistants hurried to and fro, carrying the wounded below,
while here and there a wounded man with bandage on head or shoulder
came up to take again his station. The roar was incessant, the air a
grimy cloud filled with the débris of splintered bulwarks and spars and
shredded sails and hammocks, and of the down of cat-tails that the crew
had gathered and stowed with the hammocks in the bulwarks.
Lieutenant Yarnall, the executive officer, came aft, his face covered
with blood and his nose swelled enormously because a splinter had been
driven through it.
“All the officers in my division are cut down,” he said. “Can I have
others?”
He got others, and went forward. Two musket balls passed through the
hat of the lad beside Perry, and then a splinter darted through his
clothing, but still the lad did not flinch. And then, suddenly, he was
knocked across the deck, and for once the face of Perry paled, for he
supposed the boy was killed. As it happened, only a flying hammock
had struck him, and he was soon on his feet. At this moment Perry
turned once more to greet his first lieutenant. He had been wounded
twice since going forward. He was fairly drenched in his own blood
now, as well as that of others splashed over him, and the fuzz of
the cat-tails had gathered over his face in such masses as to almost
conceal his features. He was after more assistants, but Perry could
only say:
“I have no more officers to give you. You must try to make out by
yourself.”
[Illustration: PERRY’S VICTORY.
Positions at Height of Battle.
The ships were probably in about this position when Terry, on
finding the _Lawrence_ wrecked and the _Niagara_ coming up with a
fresh breeze on the dotted line, determined to shift his flag. The
whole fleet then drove away to the northwest, and Perry, with the
_Niagara_, ran through the British line, tangled it up and cut it to
pieces. He was aided by the other American vessels, who doubled up on
the British line, the _Caledonia_, _Ariel_, and _Scorpion_ gallantly
following the _Niagara_ through the line, while the others came up
to windward of it. It was this movement that Ward pronounces “most
masterly.”
]
Going forward, Yarnall did make out by himself. He aimed the guns with
his own hands and eyes thereafter. The time had come when Perry, too,
like John Paul Jones of old, found it necessary to work the guns.
The last of Perry’s assistants, the gallant Brooks, “remarkable for his
personal beauty,” was struck in the hip by a round shot and knocked
across the deck, where he begged, in his agony, that Perry would shoot
him. But Perry turned away to fight the guns from which Brooks had been
shot to death.
On the lower deck the scene was soon worse than on the gun-deck,
for more than half the crew had been carried there. Surgeon Parsons
could not work fast enough. The wounded were stretched out everywhere
awaiting their turn. And because the ship was of such shoal draft
the cannon balls of the enemy came crashing in among the wounded.
Midshipman Laub, with a tourniquet on his arm, had started to go on
deck again when a cannon-ball struck him in the chest and scattered
his remains across the deck and splashing against the opposite side of
the ship. An Indian, Charles Poughigh, was killed by another ball as
he lay on deck after having had his leg cut off. The wounded, who were
suffering the tortures of the surgeon’s knife, were tortured anew by
splinters ripped from the ship’s side by the merciless shot, while a
scared dog mingled its mournful howls with the crash and roar of battle
and the shrieks and groans of the dying.
[Illustration: Second View of Perry’s Victory.
_From an engraving of a drawing by Corné._]
And there was Perry on the upper deck, loading, aiming and firing
his guns, while his men dropped around him until at last not enough
remained on the quarter-deck to work one gun. Coming to the hatchway
Perry asked the surgeon to lend him a man to take a place at the gun.
One went, and then another and another, and those who went first were
cut down until not one remained below to help the surgeon. And then
came Perry to the hatch with a last call for help.
“There is not another man left to go,” said the surgeon.
“Are there none of the wounded, then, who can pull on a rope?” asked
Perry.
And at that appeal three men crawled up the hatchway ladder on their
hands and knees to grasp the ropes of the gun-tackles. These, aided
by Purser Hambleton and Chaplain Breeze, rolled the muzzle of the gun
out through the port, where Perry himself aimed and fired it. And that
was the last gun fired from the _Lawrence_. The next broadside from
the enemy left her with not a single gun that could be worked, and
it severely wounded Purser Hambleton, who was beside Perry. At that
Perry turned from the gun to look over the whole scene of battle. The
_Lawrence_ was a wreck. Her bowsprit and masts were almost wholly shot
away and her hull was riddled. Out of a crew of more than a hundred men
who had gone into the fight just fourteen remained unhurt. The remnants
of twenty who had been killed outright were scattered about the
deck. But the great blue burgee with “Don’t give up the ship” still
fluttered aloft in the smoke, and Perry was the man for the motto.
As the firing ceased on the _Lawrence_, Elliott, who had kept the
_Niagara_ clear of the battle during those two long hours, made sail
and, after ordering two of the near-by smaller vessels to new stations,
headed with a happily freshened breeze for the right of British line.
The eyes of Perry, turning from ship to ship, saw the _Niagara_, with
full, round sails and quickening pace, coming. She was headed to
pass more than a quarter of a mile from the disabled _Lawrence_, but
Perry saw in her the means of retrieving what had been lost by the
concentration of the enemy’s fire upon his own ship. Stripping off
the blue nankeen jacket he had worn all day he put on the epauletted
coat of his rank and ordered a boat lowered with four men in it on
the side of the _Lawrence_ that was in the lee of the iron storm. The
lad, Perry’s brother, entered the boat with the men. At the same time
the broad pennant of the flagship was hauled down, but the “gridiron
flag” of America was left flying where it had been throughout the long
conflict. Then, turning to his faithful lieutenant, he said:
“Yarnall, I leave the _Lawrence_ in your charge with discretionary
powers. You may hold out or surrender as your judgment and the
circumstances shall dictate.”
[Illustration: Perry Transferring his Colors.
_After the painting by Powell._]
Perry, although half surrounded by the enemy and within easy musket
range, had determined to shift his flag to the _Niagara_.
As he turned to go a quarter-master hauled down the big blue burgee
with the _Lawrence_ words of inspiration upon it and gave it to the
commander. Climbing then over the ship’s side to the boat, Perry stood
erect in the stern sheets, draped flag and pennant across his shoulders
and, still standing erect, ordered the men to pull away for the
_Niagara_.
Putting their oars against the ship’s side they pushed clear, and then,
catching the stroke, rowed out from behind the sheltering hulk. In a
moment the fleet saw through the haze what Perry was trying to do--the
Americans with aching anxiety for his fate--the British with a fierce
determination to destroy him. A hell of sulphurous flame and smoke
belched from the side of every British ship. Every gun of every sort
in their squadron that could be brought to bear was aimed at the tiny
craft. The round shot ploughed--the grape and canister and musket balls
rained about the craft, filling the air with spray and spoondrift--but
Perry, standing erect that he might inspire his squadron with his own
courage, faced it all--faced it until his men mutinied to save his life
and declared they would row no further unless he sat down. And when
a round shot crashed, at the last, through the side of the boat, he
pulled off his coat, plugged the hole with it, and so reached the side
of the _Niagara_.
The British had yelled as they fired; now the cheers of the Americans
rose triumphantly above the roar of battle. The shifting of his flag to
the _Niagara_ was the decisive movement of the battle. Perry saw his
opportunity, was quick to take advantage of it, and victory was at hand.
“How goes the day?” asked Lieutenant Elliott as Perry reached the
_Niagara’s_ deck. He had been too far away to see for himself.
“Bad enough,” replied Perry. “Why are the gun-boats so far astern?”
“I’ll bring them up,” said Elliott.
“Do so,” said Perry, and jumping into the boat Perry had left, Elliott
was rowed away to the lagging gun-boats. As Elliott shoved clear,
Perry’s pennant and the great blue burgee fluttered aloft, with signals
for closing in on the enemy. The flags were greeted with cheers from
every American ship but one. Over on the abandoned _Lawrence_, Yarnall,
having not one gun that he could fire, hauled down his flag to save
life. A shout arose from the nearby _Detroit_. The wounded on the lower
deck heard the ominous sound. They asked the cause, and when told that
the flag was coming down forgot all else in their patriotism and cried:
“Sink the ship! Sink the ship!”
But no such despair was felt in any other American ship. On the others
the crews, with dancing muscles, sprang to make sail or knelt with
clear eyes to look through the sights of the guns they were aiming
anew at the British ships. Putting up his helm, Perry squared away
and drove his ship through the British squadron, now bunched so that
he had the _Lady Prevost_ and the _Chippewa_ on the left and the
_Detroit_, the _Queen Charlotte_, and the _Hunter_ on his right, and
all of them but a few yards away as he passed. Into these he fired
broadsides, double-shotted, as each came in bearing of the guns. The
crew of the _Lady Prevost_ fled below, leaving only their captain,
Lieutenant Buchan, standing on the quarter-deck, leaning his wounded
face on his hands, and staring with insane eyes upon the scene. The
effect of the fire on the others was but little less disastrous. The
_Detroit_ and the _Queen Charlotte_, in trying to swing around to meet
the Yankee, fouled each other, and Perry, ranging ahead, rounded to and
raked them both. Every other American ship had by this time closed in,
and, like a fighter who gets his second wind, they were pounding the
enemy. It was more than flesh and blood--even the flesh and blood of
an Anglo-Saxon--could stand, and eight minutes after Perry had dashed
through the British line a man appeared at the rail of the British
flagship, and waved a white handkerchief tied to a boarding-pike in
token of surrender.
That was on September 10, 1813. Until another war came, the people
of Northwestern Ohio gathered in groups of hundreds and thousands
every year, on the 10th of September, on the islands of Put-in Bay
and wherever lakeside groves were found. They came dressed in holiday
attire. They brought baskets full of the best provisions that a
bountiful region afforded. They erected long tables in the shade and
spread their good things thereon. They built an elevated platform fit
for speakers, and those who had voices to sing stood up on the platform
around one sweet-faced girl dressed as Columbia, and sang the old songs
of Perry’s victory--sang songs that told how
He pulled off his coat
And he plugged up the boat
And away he went sailing through fire and smoke.
Sang
As lifts the smoke what tongue can fitly tell
The transports which those manly bosoms swell,
When Britain’s ensign down the reeling mast
Sinks to proclaim the desperate struggle past!
Electric cheers along the shattered fleet,
With rapturous hail, her youthful hero greet;
Meek in his triumph, as in danger calm.
With reverent hands he takes the victor’s palm;
His wreath of conquest on Faith’s altar lays,
To his brave comrades yields the meed of praise.
[Illustration: “We have met the Enemy and they are Ours.”
_From the “Naval Monument.”_]
And when they had sung their songs, one who could talk stood up to
tell anew the story of this, the first battle in which the Americans
had fought with a squadron, and the first battle in the history of the
world when the commander of a British squadron had been compelled to
haul down his flag. It was a story that young and old heard with rapt
and silent interest, until at its close they rose and with the thrill
of triumph in their veins, shouted to the immortal words in which Perry
announced his victory:
“We have met the enemy and they are ours; two ships, two brigs, one
schooner, and one sloop.”