We were yet a full mile and a half away, and it was close to noon when a bugle sounded on the deck of the Detroit, the bands on the several Britishers struck up the tune of “Rule Britannia,” and a ball from the enemy’s flag-ship came directly toward the Lawrence, but fell far short of its mark.
The first shot of the battle had been fired, and, seeing the iron missile cleaving the air in a direct line for us, I involuntarily shrank behind Alec, whereupon old Silas shouted:—
“None of that, lad! None of that! A shipmate’s body is no protection, and you should be willin’ to take your full dose!”
The laughter which was provoked by this remark caused my cheeks to burn with shame, and from that moment I stood firm, however great might have been the fear in my heart.
“Remember that every shot does not go where it is aimed,” Alec whispered to me, hoping with the words to check my fears; and I replied with such firmness of voice as could be summoned just then:—
“It was more instinct than fear which caused the movement, dear lad, though God knows I am afraid.”
“So are all of us,” he replied, with a hearty grip of the hand; “and he who talks the loudest is trying the hardest to prevent it from being known.”
It seemed as if the blood stood still in my veins as we continued to advance slowly amid a silence so profound that I could hear my own heart beat; and then a cry of fear burst from my lips as another shot came toward us, plowing its way through the brig’s bulwarks with a mighty shower of splinters, but, fortunately, wounding no one.
There must have been others beside me who showed signs of fear at this first proof of what the enemy could do, for Commodore Perry shouted, while he stood a fair mark for the enemy:—
“Steady, boys! Steady! There’s not likely to be much blood spilled by such gunnery as that!”