Midshipman Laub, while leaving the Surgeon, after having a tourniquet put upon his arm, was struck by a cannon ball, which passed through his chest.
A Narragansett Indian, named Charles Poughigh, was killed in like manner, after his leg had been taken off.
Perry had a favorite dog on board, a spaniel, which had been put into a state-room, below, to be out of the way. The confinement, the noise, and the groans of the wounded, terrified the animal, and at each broadside he howled fearfully. During the action a shot made a large hole in the bulkhead of the room, and the dog thrust his head out, yelping for release, in such a ludicrous manner that the wounded lying about burst out laughing, in the midst of their suffering.
Perry kept up the fire from his single remaining carronade, although he had to send down to the Surgeon for the men employed in moving the wounded, to enable him to man this single gun.
At last the Captain himself, Purser Hambleton, and the Chaplain, Mr. Breese, helped to serve that gun, until it too was disabled.
“Perry never seemed to lose heart, and kept up the courage and enthusiasm of those about him by his undaunted bearing. Calm and cool, his orders were issued with precision, and obeyed with steady alacrity, in the midst of the surrounding carnage. Sometimes a single ball, or a round of grape or canister, would kill or disable a whole gun’s crew; but the survivors would exchange a glance with Perry, and then coolly step into their shipmate’s stations. As long as he was spared they seemed to think that triumph was secure; and they died cheerfully in that belief.”
In the heat of the fight Yarnall, the First Lieutenant, came to Perry, and told him that all the officers of the first division were either killed or wounded. Yarnall was himself wounded in the forehead and in the neck, and covered with blood, while his nose was dreadfully swollen by a blow from a splinter. Perry good-humoredly expressed some astonishment at his appearance, and sent him the desired aid. Soon Yarnall returned, with the same story, and Perry then told him, “You must make out by yourself; I have no more to furnish you.” Perry, even at this critical time, could not help smiling at Yarnall’s appearance, for, in addition to his disfigured nose, he was covered with down of “cat-tails,” from the hammock mattresses which had been struck, and which had adhered to the blood upon his face. Dr. Parsons describes him as looking like a huge owl.
When he went below, after the action, even the wounded men laughed at his hideous appearance, and one of them exclaimed, “The Devil has come for his own.”
Another incident is characteristic of the calm cheerfulness of Perry and his officers. Dulany Forrest, the Second Lieutenant (who died a Commodore), was standing immediately beside Perry, fighting his division, when a grape-shot struck him in the breast, and he fell. Perry raised him, and seeing no wound, for it was a spent shot, told him to rally, for he could not be hurt.
The Lieutenant, who was only stunned, soon recovered consciousness, and pulling out the shot, which had lodged in his waistcoat, said, “No, Sir! I’m not hurt, but this is my shot.”