Part 42

In this manœuvre the Detroit fouled the Queen Charlotte; and the Niagara, having shortened sail, passed slowly under the bows of the Detroit, at pistol-shot distance, and poured into both English vessels, as they lay entangled, a deadly and destructive fire of grape and canister.

The Niagara’s port guns at the same time were directed, with equally fatal effect, into the sterns of the Lady Prevost and the Little Belt; and her marines cleared the decks of their adversaries by their musketry. Passing under the lee of the two English ships, which by this time had got clear of each other, Perry brought by the wind, on the starboard tack, with his head to the northward and eastward, and backed the Niagara’s main-top-sail, to deaden her headway. In this position he continued to pour his starboard broadside into the Queen Charlotte and the Hunter, which was astern of the Queen Charlotte. Some of his shot passed through the Charlotte’s ports into the Detroit.

At this time the small American vessels succeeded in coming up to windward into close action, and poured in a destructive fire of grape and canister. Unfortunately their shot, when they missed the English ships, took effect upon the Niagara.

All resistance on the part of the British now ceased, and an officer appeared on the taffrail of the Queen Charlotte, to signify that she had struck, and her example was at once followed by the Detroit. Both vessels surrendered in about seven minutes after the Niagara opened her fire, and in about fifteen minutes after Perry had assumed the command of her.

The Hunter struck at the same time; as did the Lady Prevost, which lay to leeward, under the guns of the Niagara.

The battle had begun, on the part of the enemy, at about a quarter before noon; and at three P. M. the Queen Charlotte and Detroit had surrendered, and all resistance had ceased.

As the smoke blew away, the two squadrons were found to be completely mingled. The shattered Lawrence, which had borne the brunt of the hard fighting, lay to windward, a helpless wreck; but with her flag once more hoisted over her. The Niagara, with the signal for close action still flying, lay close under the lee of the Queen Charlotte, Detroit, and Hunter.

The Caledonia, Scorpion, and Trippe, which had gallantly followed the Niagara through the enemy’s line, had taken a position to leeward, favorable for preventing the enemy’s escape.

The smoke cloud still passing away to leeward, the English vessels Chippewa and Little Belt were discovered bearing up towards Malden, under a press of sail. The Scorpion and Trippe were at once sent in pursuit, and, after a few shots, compelled them to surrender.

And now began the taking possession of the enemy’s ships, a proud, and yet a melancholy duty, for some of them were in a pitiable condition; though not worse than that of the Lawrence when Perry left her.

The Detroit was a perfect wreck. Her gaff and mizzen-top-mast hung over her quarter; all the other masts and yards were badly wounded; all her braces were shot away; not a single stay was standing, forward; and her heavy oak bulwarks were much shattered. Many 32-pound shot were sticking in her port side, which had been fired from Perry’s carronades before the Lawrence got to close quarters. On the deck of the Detroit the carnage had been terrible. Many of her guns were dismounted, and the deck was strewn with killed and wounded, and slippery with blood, in spite of the “sanding down” preliminary to naval battles of the period. The deck was found nearly deserted, and in charge of the Second Lieutenant, the First Lieutenant having been killed about the middle of the action, and Commodore Barclay having been most dangerously wounded, somewhat earlier, by a grape-shot in the thigh. After being carried below, and placed in the hands of the Surgeon, and his wound temporarily dressed, he insisted upon being again carried on deck. When the Niagara bore down and delivered her raking fire, Barclay received a second grape-shot in the right shoulder, which, entering just below the joint, broke the shoulder blade to pieces, and made a large and dreadful wound. It will be remembered that he had already lost an arm, in action with the French. It is said that when, about the close of the action, a messenger was sent down to tell this unfortunate and heroic officer that the day was lost, he had himself carried once more on deck, to convince himself that further resistance would be unavailing.

The other British vessels were also much cut up, especially the Queen Charlotte, which ship had lost, early in the action, her Commander, Captain Finnis, R. N., a brave and accomplished seaman. Her First Lieutenant was soon after mortally wounded; and the loss of life among her crew was very severe. Her hull and spars were also very much damaged.

The other British vessels suffered in like proportion. The Lady Prevost had both her Commander and her First Lieutenant wounded; and, beside other injury, had become unmanageable, from the loss of her rudder. The Commanders of the Hunter and the Chippewa were both wounded; and this left only the Commander of the Little Belt fit for duty at the close of the action.

In his official report, Commodore Barclay states that every Commander and every officer second in command was disabled. He reports his total of killed and wounded as, for the first, forty-one, including three officers, and ninety-four wounded, nine of whom were officers. These returns were probably not very complete, from the inability of the reporting officer to obtain information; and the British loss was supposed to be much greater; especially as the bodies of the British killed (with the exception of those of the officers) were thrown overboard as they fell.

The shattered condition of the English squadron, which three hours before had presented a proud and warlike array, and had begun the battle with cheers, as if certain of victory--hurling death and defiance at those who had dared to brave the flag of England--was a most impressive contrast. When the Americans stood as victors on those blood-stained decks, human feelings at once took the place of the angry passions raised by the war, and by the immediate conflict. The prisoners were promptly and humanely cared for.

Our own vessels had suffered severely, as well as those of the enemy. The Lawrence’s loss has been already given, and it showed an aggregate much higher than any previously known in modern naval combat, unless in cases where the conquered vessel has sunk, with her whole crew. The Niagara lost two killed and twenty-three wounded; all but two of the latter having been wounded after Perry took command. This is stated by the Surgeon who received them. The Caledonia had three wounded; and the Somers two wounded. On board the Ariel one was killed, and three wounded; while two were killed on board the Scorpion, and two wounded on board the Trippe. Aggregate, twenty-seven killed, and ninety-six wounded; being more than one in every four.

Two of the schooners, the Tigress and Porcupine, had no casualties whatever; and this, taken with the small loss of the Trippe and Somers, shows that, notwithstanding their efforts to close, they were unable to take any important part in the action until just before the enemy struck. The Trippe, although originally the last in the line, from her superior sailing, and the great exertions of her Commander, Lieutenant Holdup Stevens, was the first of the four sternmost small vessels to get into close action.

From the fact that the enemy awaited the attack in close line of battle, his vessels were all equally available from the first, and only a part of our squadron fought the concentrated British fire.

The victory was a splendid one, and was pre-eminently due to the exertions of one person--a young man of twenty-seven, who had never before borne a part in a naval engagement.

He dashed into action in the Lawrence, with youthful ardor, trusting that his rear would get up in time. The want of support of the Niagara caused the fearful loss sustained by the Lawrence, more than the tardiness of the smaller vessels. We have seen that there was no thought of submission, even at the darkest moment, and Perry’s act in passing, at great risk, to the Niagara, cannot be sufficiently extolled. It was a combination of genius and hardihood, which snatched victory from the grasp of an enemy whose exultant cheers had already claimed it.

Labor does not end with victory. After the enemy’s colors had been hauled down, and the prizes officered and manned, the prisoners were confined, wounded masts secured, and shot-holes stopped, when all the vessels were hauled by the wind, on the starboard tack.

Perry then retired to his cabin, to communicate to General Harrison the intelligence of the event which was to admit of the immediate advance of his army, and the rescue of our territory from the savage warfare which the surrender of Hull’s army and subsequent disasters had entailed upon it.

As far as the immediate seat of war was concerned, the British naval power was utterly destroyed, and a great and threatening danger removed.

Perry’s letter was short, but covered the whole ground. It was as follows:--

“DEAR GENERAL,

We have met the enemy, and they are ours. Two ships; two brigs; one schooner; and one sloop.

Yours with very great respect and esteem, O. H. PERRY.”

He also wrote to the Secretary of the Navy, by the same express:--

“U. S. BRIG NIAGARA, OFF THE WESTERNMOST SISTER, Head of Lake Erie, Sept. 10, 1813--4 P. M.

SIR:--

It has pleased the Almighty to give to the arms of the United States a signal victory over their enemy on this lake.

The British squadron, consisting of two ships, two brigs, one schooner and one sloop, have this moment surrendered to the force under my command, after a sharp conflict.

I have the honor to be, &c., &c., O. H. PERRY.”

This letter, written without deliberation, in the moment of victory, is modest in describing his battle as a “sharp conflict;” and his allusion to the Almighty power was sincere, for Perry was a religious man.

After sending off his despatches, he made signal to anchor, to enable him to provide for the comfort of the wounded, the better security of his prisoners, and the reorganization of his squadron.

Seventy prisoners were placed on board the Somers, under Mr. Brownell. Forty were confined below; and the rest seated upon deck, the crew remaining under arms all night, in spite of the fatigues of the day. After distributing the remaining prisoners, Perry returned to the Lawrence, to do what he could for his brave shipmates. It was also proper that he should receive on board his own ship the surrender of the English officers, and that the men who had done most to gain the victory should see the last act of it.

Dr. Parsons writes, “He had returned, and was safe; but to a deck slippery with blood and brains, and strewn with the bodies of officers and men, some of whom had sat at table with us at our last meal; and the ship resounded with the groans of the wounded. Those who could walk received Perry as he came over the side; but the meeting was a silent and mournful one.

“At the request of his officers he had, during the action, worn a uniform round-jacket, and he now resumed his uniform, and standing aft, received the officers of the different captured vessels, as they came to surrender. At the head of them was an officer of the 41st British Regiment, who acted as Marine Officer on board the Detroit, and who appeared in full dress, charged by the wounded Commodore Barclay with the delivery of his sword.

“When they approached, picking their way among the wreck and dead bodies on deck, they held their swords with the hilts towards Perry, and tendered them for his acceptance.

“With a dignified and solemn air, and in a low voice, he requested them to retain their side arms, and inquired with deep interest for Commodore Barclay and the other wounded officers, offering them any comforts his squadron afforded.”

As it was impossible to reserve all the killed of the Lawrence for burial on shore, the seamen were buried alongside, at nightfall; the few survivors attending the ceremony, and the burial service being read by the Chaplain.

It was a melancholy night on board the Lawrence, sleep being prevented by the groans of the wounded. Perry said he believed his wife’s prayers had saved him, for he escaped untouched, as did his young brother, only twelve years of age, although the latter had several bullets through his clothing.

On the day after the battle Perry removed to the Ariel, and sent the Lawrence to Erie, as a hospital ship; but not before he had once more returned to her, to inquire after the wounded, and to encourage them under the operations which Dr. Parsons had to perform. Beside the wounded, there were many ill with fever and diarrhœa.

In the course of the day Perry visited Barclay, on board the Detroit; and a warm and enduring friendship sprang up, at once, between them. Perry placed every comfort he could command at Barclay’s disposal; and became responsible for a considerable sum of money required by the British officers. He also, at Barclay’s request, advanced money to the army officers serving in the British squadron.

At the very time he was doing this, cruelties were being exercised towards our countrymen who were prisoners to the English, so great as to lead to formal remonstrances and threats of retaliation. Just now it is the fashion to admire the English, and these things are forgotten, or ignored.

To relieve Barclay’s mind while suffering from his severe wounds, and with the hope that restoration to his friends and country would restore him, Perry pledged himself that he should be paroled; and he made such urgent representations to the Commissioner of Prisoners, and to the Secretary of the Navy (making the favor personal to himself, and the only one he had to ask), that he eventually succeeded.

While Perry was on board the Detroit, on his visit to Barclay, two strange beings were brought before him, who had been found in that vessel’s hold, where they had been, without food, since the action. They proved to be Indian chiefs, ludicrously clad in sailors’ clothes. With others, they had been taken on board to act as sharp-shooters, in the tops.

Although probably brave enough in their own manner of fighting, these savages became entirely unnerved by the crash and destruction around them, and they fled to the hold, nearly frightened to death.

The English, in both their wars with us, had a great _penchant_ for the use of the Indians they could hire; and their barbarous allies frequently led them into consequences they had not foreseen.

When these two Indians were brought before Perry, they expected to be at once shot and scalped; and they were astonished at his kind treatment. Soon after he sent them on shore, with a note to General Harrison, asking protection for them from our own friendly Indians.

At nine A. M., on the morning of September 11th, the two squadrons weighed anchor, and soon arrived at Put-in Bay. The burial of the officers who had fallen in battle took place on the twelfth.

The day was a serene and beautiful one, and the lake’s surface was as smooth as glass. The boats, with colors half-masted, conveyed the bodies to the shore; keeping time, with their measured stroke, to the funeral march.

As usual on such ceremonies, when the procession reached the shore, they formed in reversed order. The youngest of the killed was borne first; then the lowest in rank of the killed of the British squadron, and so on, alternately, an American and an English corpse--the body of Captain Finnis coming last.

The officers fell in, two American and two English, according to reversed rank; Perry himself closing the procession. The drums and fifes of both squadrons played the dead march, and minute guns were fired alternately from the captured vessels, as well as from the American squadron. The bodies were buried near the shore of the lake, and after the burial service they were, with due ceremony, lowered to their rest, and volleys of musketry closed the obsequies.

It was a remarkable scene. Conquerors and conquered were of the same stock; with the same traits, and the same language; the burial service of the Church of England sounding in their ears with equal familiarity.

Some of the results of Perry’s success have been already given; but we may say that his defeat would have given the enemy command of all the lakes; enabling him to concentrate his forces, in succession, upon different important points, and would thus have laid our whole northern frontier open to his incursions.

His victory led to the immediate evacuation of Detroit, and the release of the whole Territory of Michigan from the horrors of fire, murder, and scalping, which the Indian allies of the British had carried there.

Perry’s victory also wiped away the stigma incurred in the inglorious surrender of General Hull; strengthening the hands of the Government, and giving encouragement to those who were fighting, both on land and by sea. General Harrison’s army now invaded Canada in turn; the squadron assisting to convey his forces.

This is not the place to recount Perry’s subsequent exploits as aid to General Harrison, or his participation in the battle of Tippecanoe, when he served with Cass, Shelby, Richard Johnson, and Gaines, who was then a Colonel; nor of the consequences of Perry’s endeavor to shield Elliott’s conduct, in the battle with the English squadron.

For this, and for Perry’s subsequent service, and premature death, after distinguished services in Venezuela, we must refer the reader to the pages of our general history.

ESSEX, PHŒBE AND CHERUB--VALPARAISO. MARCH 28TH, A. D. 1814.

This naval action, fought in the vicinity of Valparaiso, during our last war with Great Britain, is so remarkable for the circumstances attending it, and for the pertinacity of the American defence against superior force, that, although not a decisive battle, we have thought it right to insert it here.

Few Englishmen would now attempt to uphold the breach of neutrality committed by the two English ships upon the Essex, with her anchor down upon Chilian soil, and with the Spanish flag flying upon forts and batteries within sight. But, as it was not the first, so it is not the last time that England has infringed such laws, where she has been able to do so with impunity.

The United States frigate Essex, 32, sailed from the Capes of the Delaware October, 6th, 1812, upon a cruise, the object and destination of which were kept profoundly secret. Her destination was the Pacific--still called the “South Seas”--the navigation of which was still comparatively unknown; new islands being constantly discovered, the inhabitants of which had never seen any other men than their fellow islanders.

The object of the cruise was to destroy the “South-sea-men,” or whalers, of Great Britain; as well as the traders of the same nation, and thus inflict a heavy blow upon a sensitive part of an Englishman--his pocket.

The story of the cruise, by Captain Porter, the Commander of the Essex; with his passage to the Cape Verde Islands, the Coast of Brazil, around Cape Horn into the Pacific, and his operations there; together with the incidents of his stay at the Gallapagos and Washington groups, and his numerous captures, read like a romance of the sea. Yet it is all true; and the account is written in a circumstantial manner, with day and date, by a genuine and successful sailor.

This cruise is memorable for another reason--that Farragut, afterwards the greatest naval commander of his day, made his first cruise then, and witnessed his first naval action, while still a child, deporting himself with the coolness and gallantry which ever afterwards distinguished him.

David Porter, the Commander of the Essex, was born in Boston, in 1780, and was at this time thirty-three years of age--that glorious period of life which combines the fire and ability of youth with the experience and self-control derived from contact with the world. He entered the navy in 1798, and was a midshipman in the Constellation, in her action with the French frigate Insurgente, in February, 1799. He afterwards served on the West India station, as a Lieutenant, and had many conflicts, in the schooner Experiment, with the pirates and privateers which, at that time, and long after, infested those waters. In 1801 he was in the schooner Enterprize, and, off Malta, he captured, after an engagement of three hours, a Tripolitan cruiser of fourteen guns.

Soon after, in a boat expedition, at Tripoli, he was wounded for the second time; and in October, 1803, he was captured in the frigate Philadelphia, and remained a prisoner until the war closed.

He was made a captain in 1812, and appointed to the Essex.

After the war with England, Porter became a member of the Board of Navy Commissioners, but resigned that post to take command of an expedition against the West Indian pirates. He was court-martialed for exceeding his powers during this cruise, and sentenced to be suspended for six months.

Upon this he resigned his commission and entered the Mexican service as Naval Commander-in-chief. After serving there for some years he returned to the United States in 1829, and was made United States Consul General for the Barbary States. He was afterwards transferred to Constantinople as _Chargé d’Affaires_, and soon became Minister Resident.

He died in Constantinople, in March, 1843, and his remains were brought home in a man-of-war, and interred in the Naval Asylum grounds.

And now, to return to the Essex and her cruise. All Americans should read Porter’s account, which vies in interest with those of Anson or La Peyrouse, the difference being that their sole object was discovery, while Porter had principally in view the crippling of his enemy’s resources. His attack upon British interests in that part of the globe was entirely unexpected, and the unbounded rage of the English was excited when they learned, from prisoners sent in cartels, that such wholesale destruction was going on, and their trade being completely annihilated; and they hastened to take means to stop Porter’s career.

The latter, in the meantime, was living off the enemy, showing the greatest activity and resource, maintaining discipline under exceptional circumstances, and keeping his crew in good humor, with much tact and knowledge of sailor character.

In those days no docks or dockyards were to be found anywhere south of the line. Ports were few and not much frequented, for fear of blockade. Necessary food, sea-stores, rigging and material for repairs were, indeed, as far as Porter was concerned, only to be obtained by capture, and it required a man not only of pluck and nautical ability, but of resources in many other directions, to make such a cruise as he did. At the last, through no fault of his, he was overwhelmed in a harbor which should have afforded him security, and the career of the Essex brought to an end by a shameful violation of neutrality.

In the course of his cruise, Porter had seized and disarmed a Peruvian corvette, which had been preying upon American whalers, and then sent her away with a caution. He had also seized and disposed of, in different ways, English “South-sea-men,” aggregating 3369 tons, with 302 men and 107 guns; had provisioned his own crew and partly paid his men, from the prizes. One of the latter, the Atlantic, he had fitted out for cruising, under his first lieutenant, Mr. Downes, re-naming her Essex Junior. This ship mounted 20 guns and was efficient as a cruiser against merchantmen and whalers, but was not expected to stand an engagement.