But though under sail the wind was too light to carry the brigs against the current, and they could not reach the lake as they wished to do. The British batteries opened a hot fire. Elliott replied with the guns of the Detroit as long as the ammunition lasted, while striving at the same time to get her across to the American side. “For ten minutes she went blindly down the current,” while the steady flashing of cannon afloat and ashore illuminated the night, and people ran to and fro on both sides of the river shouting and cheering. And then the Detroit grounded on Squaw Island, opposite what is now the foot of Albany Street, Buffalo. The Americans landed their prisoners, forty-six in number, below the island, but before they could return some British regulars had crossed over and captured the Detroit. The Yankees, with a six-pounder field-piece on Squaw Island, drove them away, and Winfield Scott and some troops took possession. But she was still within reach of the British long guns, and during the remainder of the night and all the next day she was under fire. Then the British brought a war vessel, the Lady Prevost, to cover them while they were to take her off, and so the Americans fired and destroyed her.

Meantime Elliott had carried the Caledonia clear of all, and she was the first member of the fleet that enabled the gallant Perry to write, “We have met the enemy and they are ours.”

As already said, the fight, considered beside the salt-sea battles, was only a trifling skirmish, but two British ships were captured, the percentage of damage done to the British power afloat on Lake Erie was tremendous, and as an example of dashing bravery the feat thrilled the whole American nation. Not less marked was its effect upon the British, for General Sir Isaac Brock, who commanded in that department, wrote:

“The event is particularly unfortunate and may reduce us to incalculable distress. The enemy is making every exertion to gain a naval superiority on both lakes, which, if they accomplish it, I do not see how we can possibly retain the country.”

CHAPTER XIII
THE BATTLE ON LAKE ERIE

BUILDING WAR-SHIPS AND GUN-BOATS IN THE WILDERNESS—LIFTING THE VESSELS OVER A SAND-BAR—FORTUNATELY THE BRITISH COMMANDER WAS FOND OF PUBLIC ENTERTAINMENTS—THE TWO SQUADRONS AND THEIR CREWS COMPARED—THE ADVANTAGE OF A CONCENTRATED FORCE WAS WITH THE BRITISH—ON THE WAY TO MEET THE ENEMY—“TO WINDWARD OR TO LEEWARD THEY SHALL FIGHT TO-DAY”—THE ANGLO-SAXON CHEER—THE BRUNT OF THE FIGHT BORNE BY THE FLAG-SHIP—A FRIGHTFUL SLAUGHTER THERE IN CONSEQUENCE—WHEN PERRY WORKED THE GUNS WITH HIS OWN HANDS, AND EVEN THE WOUNDED CRAWLED UP THE HATCH TO LEND A HAND AT THE SIDE-TACKLES—AN ABLE FIRST LIEUTENANT—WOUNDED EXPOSED TO THE FIRE WHEN UNDER THE SURGEON’S CARE—THE LAST GUN DISABLED—SHIFTING THE FLAG TO THE NIAGARA—CHEERS THAT WERE HEARD ABOVE THE ROAR OF CANNON—WHEN THE WOUNDED OF THE LAWRENCE CRIED “SINK THE SHIP!”—DRIVING THE NIAGARA THROUGH THE BRITISH SQUADRON—THE WHITE HANDKERCHIEF FLUTTERING FROM A BOARDING-PIKE—“WE HAVE MET THE ENEMY, AND THEY ARE OURS.”

This is the story of Perry’s victory. Oliver Hazard Perry, “a zealous naval officer, twenty-seven years of age,” of the rank of master commandant, was in command of a fleet of gun-boats at Newport, Rhode Island, during all the glorious days when Hull, Decatur, and Bainbridge were winning laurels on the high seas. It was a most irksome service, at best, for the sole purpose of the gun-boats was that of the quills of a porcupine, but when other men of the navy were abroad showing teeth, the task assigned to Perry was beyond endurance. For a time his appeals for a change were unheeded, but at last, when the operations on Lake Ontario under Commodore Chauncey, and at the foot of Lake Erie, under Lieutenant Elliott, had made an impression on the Navy Department, Perry was ordered to go with “all of the best men of his flotilla” to join Chauncey. It was on February 17, 1813, that his orders reached him, and before night fifty of his men were on their way to the west in sleds. Others followed, and on the 22d Perry himself, with a brother of thirteen, who was eager for adventures, started over the long road—a road so long that, though the sleighing was good, they did not reach Sackett’s Harbor until March 3d. For two weeks Perry remained there, awaiting an expected attack from the British that did not come, and then he started on for what was then called Presqu’ Isle, but is now the city of Erie, Pennsylvania.

O. H. Perry

From an engraving by Forrest of the portrait by Jarvis.