Even before we returned to our flag-ship, the commodore wrote on the back of an old letter this message to General Harrison, and sent it at once by special messenger:—
“We have met the enemy, and they are ours: Two ships, two brigs, one schooner and one sloop.
“Yours with great respect and esteem,
“O. H. Perry.”
[By the Editor.] It seems fitting that Master Dobbins’s story should be concluded with the following extract from the “War of 1812,” written by that eminent historian, Benson J. Lossing:—
“Then the ceremony of taking possession of the conquered vessels, and receiving the formal submission of the vanquished, was performed. Perry gave the signal to anchor, and started for his battered flag-ship, determined, on her deck, and in the presence of her surviving officers and crew, to receive the commanders of the captured squadron. ‘It was a time of conflicting emotions,’ says Dr. Parsons, ‘when he stepped upon deck. The battle was won, and he was safe, but the deck was slippery with blood, and strewn with the bodies of twenty officers and men, seven of whom had sat at table with us at our last meal, and the ship resounded everywhere with the groans of the wounded. Those of us who were spared and able to walk, met him at the gangway to welcome him on board, but the salutation was a silent one on both sides; not a word could find utterance.’
“The next movement in the solemn drama was the reception of the British officers, one from each of the captured vessels. Perry stood on the after-part of the deck, and his sad visitors were compelled to pick their way to him among the slain. He received them with solemn dignity and unaffected kindness. As they presented their swords, with the hilts toward the victor, he spoke in a low but firm tone, without the betrayal of the least exultation, and requested them to retain their weapons....
“Vessels of both squadrons were dreadfully shattered, especially the two flag-ships. Sixty-eight persons had been killed and one hundred and ninety wounded during the three hours that the battle lasted. Of these, the Americans lost one hundred and twenty-three, twenty-seven of whom were killed. Barclay, of the Detroit, the British commander, who had lost an arm at Trafalgar, was first wounded in the thigh, and then so severely injured in the shoulder as to deprive him of the use of the other arm. Finnis, of the Queen Charlotte, the second in command, was mortally wounded, and died that evening....
“Perry’s victory proved to be one of the most important events of the war. At that moment two armies, one on the north and the other on the south of the warring squadrons, were waiting for the result most anxiously. Should the victory remain with the British, Proctor and Tecumtha[6] were ready at Malden, with their motley army five thousand strong, to rush forward and lay waste the entire country. Should the victory rest with the Americans, Harrison, with his army in the vicinity of Sandusky bay, was prepared to press forward by land or water for the seizure of Malden and Detroit, the recovery of Michigan, and the invasion of Canada.
“All along the borders of the lake within sound of the cannon in the battle (and they were heard from Cleveland to Malden), women with terrified children, and decrepit old men, sat listening with the deepest anxiety; for they knew not but with the setting sun they would be compelled to flee to the interior to escape the fangs of the red bloodhounds who were ready to be let loose upon helpless innocency by the approved servants of the government that boasted of its civilization and Christianity. Happily for America—happily for the fair fame of Great Britain—happily for the cause of humanity—the victory was left with the Americans, and the savage allies of the British were not allowed to repeat the tragedies in which they had already been permitted to engage....