CHAPTER XIII

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.”

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