Part 8

The _Enterprise_ hauled up on the wind and stood out to sea, preparing for action. Then followed one of the strange circumstances which happened so often in those days. The wind died away, and for six hours or more the two enemies drifted about in a dead calm, watching each other through their glasses, and preparing for the conflict that would take place as soon as the breeze would enable them to lessen the distance between them.

At half-past two in the afternoon it came, from the southwest, a light wind that gave the _Enterprise_ the advantage of the weather-gage. It took only a few minutes to find out that, so far as sailing went, the two vessels were on equal terms, and at 3 P.M. Burrows shortened sail, squared his yards, and bore down before the wind. He hoisted an ensign at each of his mast-heads and another at the peak, firing a gun to answer the previous challenge of the morning. Then, in silence, the two vessels neared. Closer and closer they came without a shot being fired, the men at the guns being eager to commence, and the officers anxiously awaiting word from the young commander (Burrows was but twenty-eight), who was walking quickly to and fro alone on the quarter-deck.

When within half pistol-shot the Englishman came up into the wind and gave three cheers, immediately letting go his starboard broadside. The cheers and the broadside were returned, and the action at once became general.

Burrows had the opportunity for which he had been praying. He noticed that the training of his crew was showing to good effect; all the care and trouble he had taken were now being paid for.

He had turned to speak to Lieutenant McCall, to attract attention to the way in which the enemy was being hulled, when a musket-ball struck him in the body, and he fell. McCall bent over him. “Don’t take me below,” he said, as he lay on the deck. “Never strike that flag.”

Maybe the recollection of the words of the great Lawrence influenced him as he spoke. They brought a hammock from the nettings and placed it underneath his head, and McCall assumed the active command.

This had happened during the first eight minutes of the engagement, and so accurate was the gunnery of the Americans that the main-topmast and the topsail yard of the Englishman were soon shot away, and a position gained whence a raking fire was kept up for some twelve minutes.

Suddenly it was noticed that the enemy was not replying, although the colors were still flying at the mast-heads.

McCall gave orders to cease firing, and then through the smoke came a hoarse voice hailing the American brig. “Cease firing there!” it said. “We have surrendered.”

“Why don’t you haul down your colors?” returned McCall through the trumpet.

“We can’t, sir. They are nailed to the mast,” was the reply.

A boat was lowered from the _Enterprise_, and McCall climbed to the deck of his late antagonist. She proved to be His Britannic Majesty’s brig _Boxer_, 14 guns, that a few minutes before had been commanded by Samuel Blyth, a brave officer, who burned to distinguish himself, and had gone into action determined to follow the example of Sir Philip Vere Broke, and lead “a captured Yankee into Halifax Harbor”--so he had expressed himself. But he had not lived to see the outcome of the action. At the same time that Burrows fell on board the _Enterprise_, Blyth was killed by a cannon-shot on the quarter-deck of the _Boxer_.

His first officer came back with Lieutenant McCall, and approached the wounded Burrows, who yet refused to be carried below. The doctor had pronounced that he had but a few hours at most to live.

When he received the sword of his enemy, he grasped it in both hands. “I am satisfied,” he said; and soon afterwards he was covered with the flag below in his own cabin--“a smile on his lips,” wrote one of the officers.

As usual, much controversy was excited in regard to the numbers of crew and armament of the two vessels.

An extract from a letter from Commodore Hull to Commodore Bainbridge, dated September 10th, 1813, is of great interest. Hull writes:

“I yesterday visited the two brigs, and was astonished to see the difference of injury sustained in the action. The _Enterprise_ has but one eighteen-pound shot in her hull, one in her main-mast, and one in her foremast; her sails are much cut with grape-shot, but no injury was done by them.

“The _Boxer_ has eighteen or twenty eighteen-pound shot in her hull, most of them at the water’s edge; several stands of grape-shot in her side, and such a quantity of smaller grape that I didn’t undertake to count them. Her masts, sails, and spars are literally cut to pieces; several of her guns dismounted and unfit for service. To give an idea, I inform you that I counted in her main-mast alone three eighteen-pound shot-holes.

“I find it impossible to get at the number killed, as no papers are found by which we can ascertain it. I, however, counted upwards of ninety hammocks that were in her nettings, besides several beds without hammocks. I have no doubt that she carried one hundred men on board.”

The exact number on board the _Enterprise_ was one hundred and two.

In addition to the particulars thus officially given, from other sources it was ascertained that the _Enterprise_ rated as 12 guns, but carried 16--viz., 14 eighteen-pound carronades and 2 long nines; her officers and crew consisted of one hundred and two persons, and her burden was about two hundred and sixty-five tons.

The _Boxer_ rated as a 14-gun brig, but carried 18, disposed as follows: 16 eighteen-pound carronades in her broadsides and 2 long nines on deck. She was very heavily built, and was about three hundred tons in burden.

Soon after the arrival of the _Enterprise_ and her prize at Portland the bodies of the two dead commanders were brought on shore in ten-oared barges rowed at minute strokes by masters of ships, and accompanied by a procession of almost all the barges and boats in the harbor. Minute-guns were fired from the vessels, the same ceremony was performed over each body, and the procession moved through the streets, preceded by the selectmen and the municipal officers, and guarded by the crew of the _Enterprise_, all the officers of that vessel and of the _Boxer_ acting as joint mourners.

It is a strange fact that Burrows had never been in a battle before, and that McCall, on whom had devolved the responsibility of command, had never previously heard the sound of a hostile shot.

The losses during the action were, as near as could be ascertained, as follows:

The _Boxer_, twenty-eight killed and fourteen wounded; and the _Enterprise_, one killed and thirteen wounded, three of whom afterwards died.

X

THE BATTLE OF LAKE ERIE

[September 10th, 1813]

Oliver Hazard Perry, the hero of Lake Erie, inherited from his father a fearless, high-strung disposition, and early in life showed his longing for adventure. The elder Perry was a seaman from the time he could lift a handspike, and fought in the revolutionary days, first as a privateersman on a Boston letter-of-marque, and afterwards as a volunteer on board the frigate _Trumbull_ and the sloop of war _Mifflin_. He was captured and imprisoned for eight long months in the famous Jersey prison-ship, where he succeeded in braving the dangers of disease, starvation, and hardship, and at last regained his liberty. Once more he became a privateersman, but ill-fortune followed him. He was captured in the English Channel, and confined for eighteen months in a British prison, whence he again escaped and made his way to the island of St. Thomas. From thence he sailed to Charleston, South Carolina, where he arrived about the time that peace was concluded. After that Perry found employment in the East Indian trade until 1798, when he was appointed to the command of the U.S.S. _General Greene_. He was the head of a large family, having married in 1783, the oldest of his children being Oliver Hazard. Of the four other sons, three of them also entered the navy and served with distinction.

Oliver Hazard as a boy was not physically strong; he grew tall at an early age, and his strength was not in keeping with his inches. Nevertheless, he declared himself positively in favor of taking up the sea as a profession, and in April of 1799, after his father had been in command of the _General Greene_ for one year, to his delight young Perry received his midshipman’s warrant, and joined the same ship.

The young midshipman made several cruises with his father to the West Indies; his health and strength increased with the life in the open air; he showed capacity and courage, and participated in the action that resulted in the reduction of Jacmel in connection with the land attack of the celebrated General Toussaint’s army. This was the last active service of the _General Greene_; she was sold and broken up, and upon the reduction of the navy in 1801 the elder Perry left the service. In 1803 his son returned from a cruise in the Mediterranean, and was promoted to an acting lieutenancy.

In our naval history of this time the recurrence of various names, and the references made over and over again to the same actions and occurrences, are easily accountable when we think of the small number of vessels the United States possessed and the surprisingly few officers on the pay-rolls. The high feeling of _esprit de corps_ that existed among them came from the fact that they each had a chance to prove their courage and fidelity. There was a high standard set for them to reach.

Oliver Hazard Perry went through the same school that, luckily for us, graduated so many fine officers and sailors--that of the Tripolitan war. After he returned to America, at the conclusion of peace with Tripoli, he served in various capacities along the coast, proving himself an efficient leader upon more than one occasion. The first service upon which the young officer was employed after the commencement of the war with England was taking charge of a flotilla of gunboats stationed at Newport.

As this service was neither arduous nor calculated to bring chances for active employment in the way of fighting, time hung on his hands, and Perry chafed greatly under his enforced retirement. At last he petitioned the government to place him in active service, stating plainly his desire to be attached to the naval forces that were then gathering under the command of Commodore Chauncey on the lakes. His request was granted, to his great joy, and he set out with all despatch.

It was at an early period of the war that the government had seen the immense importance of gaining the command of the western lakes, and in October of 1812 Commodore Chauncey had been ordered to take seven hundred seamen and one hundred and fifty marines and proceed by forced marches to Lake Ontario. There had been sent ahead of him a large number of ship-builders and carpenters, and great activity was displayed in building and outfitting a fleet which might give to the United States the possession of Lake Ontario. There was no great opposition made to the American arms by the British on this lake, but the unfortunate surrender of General Hull had placed the English in undisputed possession of Lake Erie.

In March, 1813, Captain Perry having been despatched to the port of Erie, arrived there to find a fleet of ten sail being prepared to take the waters against the British fleet under Commodore Barclay--an old and experienced leader, a hero of the days of Nelson and the _Victory_.

Before Perry’s arrival a brilliant little action had taken place in October of the previous year. Two British vessels, the _Detroit_ and the _Caledonia_, came down the lake and anchored under the guns of the British Fort Erie on the Canadian side. At that time Lieutenant Elliot was superintending the naval affairs on Lake Erie, and the news having been brought to him of the arrival of the English vessels on the opposite side, he immediately determined to make a night attack and cut them out. For a long time a body of seamen had been tramping their toilsome march from the Hudson River to the lakes, and Elliot, hearing that they were but some thirty miles away, despatched a messenger to hasten them forward; at the same time he began to prepare two small boats for the expedition. About twelve o’clock the wearied seamen, footsore and hungry, arrived, and then it was discovered that in the whole draft there were but twenty pistols, and no cutlasses, pikes, or battle-axes. But Elliot was not dismayed. Applying to General Smyth, who was in command of the regulars, for arms and assistance, he was supplied with a few muskets and pistols, and about fifty soldiers were detached to aid him.

Late in the afternoon Elliot had picked out his crews and manned the two boats, putting about fifty men in each; but he did not stir until one o’clock on the following morning, when in the pitch darkness he set out from the mouth of Buffalo Creek, with a long pull ahead. The wind was not strong enough to make good use of the sails, and the poor sailors were so weary that those who were not rowing lay sleeping, huddled together on their arms, and displaying great listlessness and little desire for fighting. At three o’clock Elliot was alongside the British vessels. It was a complete surprise; in ten minutes he had full possession of them and had secured the crews as prisoners. But after making every exertion to get under sail, he found to his bitter disappointment that the wind was unfortunately so light that the rapid current made them gather an increasing sternway every instant. Another unfortunate circumstance was that he would have to pass the British fort below and quite close to hand, for he was on the Canadian shore. As the vessels came in sight of the British battery, the latter opened a heavy fire of round and grape, and several pieces of flying artillery stationed in the woods took up the chorus.

The _Caledonia_, being a smaller vessel, succeeded in getting out of the current, and was beached in as safe a position as possible under one of the American batteries at Black Rock, across the river; but Elliot was compelled to drop his anchor at the distance of about four hundred yards from two of the British batteries. He was almost at their mercy, and in the extremity he tried the effect of a ruse, or, better, made a threat that we must believe he never intended carrying into effect.

Observing an officer standing on the top of an earthwork, he hailed him at the top of his voice:

“Heigh, there, Mr. John Bull! if you fire another gun at me I’ll bring up all my prisoners, and you can use them for targets,” he shouted.

The answer was the simultaneous discharge of all of the Englishman’s guns. But not a single prisoner was brought on deck to share the fate of the Americans, who felt the effect of the fire, and who now began to make strenuous efforts to return it. Elliot brought all of the guns on one side of his ship, and replied briskly, until he suddenly discovered that all of his ammunition was expended. Now there was but one chance left: to cut the cable, drift down the river out of the reach of the heavy batteries, and make a stand against the flying artillery with small arms. This was accordingly done, but as the sails were raised the fact was ascertained that the pilot had taken French leave. No one else knew the channel, and, swinging about, the vessel drifted astern for some ten minutes, then, fortunately striking a cross current, she brought up on the shore of Squaw Island, near the American side. Elliot sent a boat to the mainland with the prisoners first. It experienced great difficulty in making the passage, being almost swamped once or twice, and it did not return. Affairs had reached a crisis, but with the aid of a smaller boat, and by the exercise of great care, the remainder of the prisoners and the crew succeeded in getting on shore at about eight o’clock in the morning. At about eleven o’clock a company of British regulars rowed over from the Canadian shore to Squaw Island and boarded the _Detroit_, their intention being to destroy her, and burn up the munitions with which she was laden. Seeing their purpose, Major Cyrenus Chapin, a good Yankee from Massachusetts, called for volunteers to return to the island, and, despite the difficulties ahead, almost every man signified his willingness to go. Quickly making his selection, Major Chapin succeeded in landing with about thirty men at his back, and drove off the English before they had managed to start the flames. About three o’clock a second attempt was made, but it was easily repulsed.

The _Detroit_ mounted six long 6-pounders, and her crew numbered some sixty men. She was worth saving, but so badly was she grounded on the island that it was impossible to get her off, and, after taking her stores out, Elliot set her on fire to get rid of her. The little _Caledonia_ was quite a valuable capture, aside from her armament, as she had on board a cargo of furs whose value has been estimated at one hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

But to return to the condition of affairs upon the arrival of Captain Perry. The fleet that in a few weeks he had under his command consisted of the brig _Lawrence_, of 20 guns, to which he attached his flag; the _Niagara_, of 20 guns, in command of Elliot; and the schooners _Caledonia_ and _Ariel_, of 3 and 4 guns respectively. There were besides six smaller vessels, carrying from one to two guns each; in all, Perry’s fleet mounted 55 guns. The British fleet, under command of Barclay, consisted of the _Detroit_ (named after the one that was wrecked), the _Queen Charlotte_, and the _Lady Prevost_. They mounted 19, 17, and 13 guns, in the order named. The brig _Hunter_ carried 10 guns; the sloop _Little Belt_, 3; and the schooner _Chippeway_, 1 gun; in all, Barclay had 63 guns, not counting several swivels--that is, more than eight guns to the good.

The morning of the 10th of September dawned fine and clear. Perry, with his fleet anchored about him, lay in the quiet waters of Put-in Bay. A light breeze was blowing from the south. Very early a number of sail were seen out on the lake beyond the point, and soon the strangers were discovered to be the British fleet. Everything depended now upon the speed, with which the Americans could prepare for action. In twelve minutes every vessel was under way and sailing out to meet the on-comers; the _Lawrence_ led the line. As the two fleets approached, the British concentrated the fire of their long and heavy guns upon her. She came on in silence; at her peak was flying a huge motto-flag; plain to view were the words of the brave commander of the _Chesapeake_: “Don’t give up the ship.”

The responsibility that rested upon the young commander’s shoulders was great; his position was most precarious. This was the first action between the fleets of the two hostile countries; it was a battle for the dominion of the lakes; defeat meant that the English could land at any time an expeditionary force at any point they chose along the shores of our natural northern barrier. The _Lawrence_ had slipped quite a way ahead of the others, and Perry found that he would have to close, in order to return the English fire, as at the long distance he was surely being ripped to pieces.

Signalling the rest of the fleet to follow him, he made all sail and bore down upon the English; but to quote from the account in the _Naval Temple_, printed in the year 1816: “Every brace and bowline of the _Lawrence_ being shot away, she became unmanageable, notwithstanding the great exertion of the sailing-master. In this situation she sustained the action within canister distance upwards of two hours, until every gun was rendered useless, and the greater part of her crew either killed or wounded.”

It is easy to imagine the feelings of Perry at this moment. The smaller vessels of his fleet had not come within firing distance; there was absolutely nothing for him to do on board the flagship except to lower his flag. Yet there was one forlorn hope that occurred to the young commander, and without hesitation he called away the only boat capable of floating; taking his flag, he quit the _Lawrence_, and rowed off for the _Niagara_. The most wonderful accounts of hair-breadth escapes could not equal that of Perry upon this occasion. Why his boat was not swamped, or its crew and commander killed, cannot be explained. Three of the British ships fired broadsides at him at pistol-shot distance, as he passed by them in succession; and although the water boiled about him, and the balls whistled but a few inches overhead, he reached the _Niagara_ in safety.

There are but a few parallel cases to this, of a commander leaving one ship and transferring his flag to another in the heat of action.

The Duke of York upon one occasion shifted his flag, in the battle of Solebay; and in the battle of Texel, fought on August 11, 1673, the English Admiral Sprague shifted his flag from the _Royal_ _Prince_ to the _St. George_, and the Dutch Admiral Van Tromp shifted his flag from the _Golden Lion_ to the _Comet_, owing to the former vessel being practically destroyed by a concentrated fire. This does not detract from the gallantry of Perry’s achievement. The danger he faced was great, and he was probably closer to the enemy’s vessels than any of the commanders above mentioned.

Perry’s younger brother, who was but a midshipman, was one of the seven other men in the boat. They left on board the _Lawrence_ not above a half score of able-bodied men to look after the numerous wounded. Owing to the opinions of many of the contemporary writers, who gave way to an intense feeling of partisanship, some bitterness was occasioned, and sides were taken in regard to the actions of Master Commandant Elliot and his superior officer; but looking back at it from this day, we can see little reason for any feeling of jealousy. It is hard to point the finger at any one on the American side in this action and say that he did not do his duty. As Perry reached the side of the _Niagara_ the wind died away until it was almost calm; the smaller vessels, the sloops and schooners--the _Somers_, the _Scorpion_, the _Tigress_, the _Ohio_, and the _Porcupine_--were seen to be well astern. Upon Perry setting foot on deck, Elliot congratulated him upon the way he had left his ship, and volunteered to bring up the boats to windward, if he could be spared. Upon receiving permission he jumped into the boat in which Perry had rowed from the _Lawrence_, and set out to bring up all the forces. Every effort was made to form a front of battle, and the little gunboats, urged on by sweeps and oars, were soon engaged in a race for glory. In the meantime, however, the English had slackened their fire as they saw the big flag lowered from the _Lawrence’s_ masthead; they supposed that the latter had struck, and set up a tremendous cheering. This was hushed as they caught sight of the flash of oars and realized what was going forward. In a few minutes out of the thick smoke came the _Niagara_, breaking their line, and firing her broadsides with such good execution that great confusion followed throughout the fleet. Two of their larger brigs, the _Queen Charlotte_ and _Detroit_, ran afoul of each other, and the _Niagara_, giving signal for close action, ran across the bow of one ship and the stern of the other, raking them both with fearful effect; then squaring away, and running astern of the _Lady Prevost_, she got in another raking fire, and, sheering off, made for the _Hunter_. Now the little 1-gun and 2-gun vessels of the American fleet were giving good accounts of themselves.