In 1808 he married a Miss Montandevert, of New York. At the declaration of war in 1812, he sailed in command of the Hornet, in the squadron commanded by Commodore Rodgers, consisting of the United States, Congress and Argus, and after a cruise not distinguished by any signal success, returned to Boston on the 31st of August in the same year.

Captain Lawrence went to sea again in October, 1812, as commander of the Hornet under Commodore Bainbridge, who commanded for this cruise in the Constitution. Their destination was the East Indies, but near Brazil Captain Lawrence captured the English brig Resolution with ten guns and twenty-five thousand dollars, but being a dull sailer, after securing the crew and the money he burnt her. Captain Lawrence then sailed towards Demerara, and in passing round the Corobano bank he espied a sail on his weather-quarter and about to approach him. It was the Peacock, Captain William Peake, with English colors.

The Hornet was immediately cleared for action, and kept close to the wind to get the weather-gage of the enemy; shortly they exchanged broadsides at half pistol-shot distance. Finding the enemy in the act of wearing, Captain Lawrence bore up, and gave him a well directed and tremendous fire, and in less than fifteen minutes from the commencement of the action, the signal of distress had taken the place of the British flag. In an instant a lieutenant boarded her and found her cut to pieces, her captain killed, many of her crew killed or wounded, her mizzen-mast by the board, six feet water in the hold, and the vessel fast sinking. The two ships were immediately brought to anchor, the Hornet’s boats dispatched to bring off the wounded, the guns thrown overboard, the shot holes that could be got at plugged, every thing done, by pumping and bailing, to keep her afloat; yet she went down before all her wounded seamen could be removed. The Hornet had one man killed and lost three brave fellows while attempting to rescue the vanquished from a watery grave; four of her seamen were taken from the tops just before the Peacock had entirely disappeared. Captain Lawrence now determined to sail for New York; no sooner had he arrived there, than the officers of the Peacock honorably made public their grateful feelings for the kindness of Captain Lawrence and the officers under him. They said, “we ceased to consider ourselves prisoners.” The crew most heartily vied with their captain in generosity as well as bravery. The sailors of the Peacock were left destitute of a change of apparel, so suddenly had their vessel sunk. The crew of the Hornet most kindly contributed to their wants. Such conduct is worthy heroic sailors! these brave hearts from opposite extremities of the ocean, mingling together on the same deck, beat with but one common pulsation. On the meeting of the next Congress, this battle was thus officially noticed by the President of the nation:—

“In continuance of the brilliant achievements of our infant navy, a signal triumph has been gained by Captain Lawrence and his companions, in the Hornet sloop-of-war, which destroyed a British sloop-of-war with a celerity so unexampled, and with a slaughter of the enemy so disproportionate to the loss in the Hornet, as to claim for the conqueror the highest praise.”

Captain Lawrence, after remaining in New York a short time, received orders to repair to Boston and take command of the Chesapeake, to sail on the 1st day of June. On his arrival there, he was informed that a British ship had been cruising around in sight of the harbor for the last three days. He accordingly, on the 1st, proceeded in chase of her, and was informed by pilots they believed it to be the British frigate Shannon. About four o’clock, P. M., she came in sight; he accordingly directed his course towards her; at half past four, P. M., she hove to, with her head to the southward and eastward; at five, P. M., she took in the royal and top-gallant sails, and at about fifteen minutes before six the action commenced within pistol-shot distance. The first broadside killed, among others, the sailing master, and wounded Captain Lawrence; in about twelve minutes afterwards, the Chesapeake fell on board of the Shannon, and immediately thereupon, an armed chest, on the quarter-deck of the Chesapeake, was blown up by a hand grenade from the enemy, and every officer, on whom the charge of the ship could devolve, was either killed or wounded previous to the capture. Captain Lawrence, who, bleeding, had still kept the deck, supporting himself against the companion-way, in the act of giving orders, was levelled by a second ball; he was carried below, making a particular request that the ship should not be surrendered. The surgeon hurried to his captain in the cockpit, to relieve the most excruciating pains from his wounds both in the body and the leg. But, “No—serve those who came before me, first; I can wait my turn,” said the noble-hearted sailor—greater even below than above deck. The wounds of Captain Lawrence confined him to his bed until the moment of his death; he lingered in much pain and suffering until the 5th of June, when, in the thirty-second year of his age, he expired. He died young; he gave himself to glory and his country; not to dwell upon public recollection mangled and mutilated, but leaving in the fond eye of faithful memory the whole image of a perfect hero, unimpaired by age or by accident, in all the freshness of youth and the fair fullness of his admired proportions. Funeral solemnities were rendered to Captain Lawrence and his Lieutenant, Ludlow, at Halifax. “By strangers honored and by strangers mourned.” His enemies were his mourners, or rather the enemies of his country, for personal enemies he had none. The tears of Britons evinced how much more gratefully they would have shown homage to his person than every respectful attention to his remains. That flag, from which he had parted but with life, was restored to him in death. “His signal once, but now his winding sheet.” In the month of August following the remains of Lawrence and Ludlow were removed from Halifax and arrived at Salem on the 18th, where a public funeral service and eulogy were pronounced by the Hon. Judge Story, and from thence, at the request of the relatives, were removed to New York; there the city council took charge of the funeral in a manner worthy the munificence which they had promptly manifested on every naval occasion. They gave the two children of Captain Lawrence one thousand dollars each, to be vested in the sinking-fund of the corporation, and paid, with the interest, to the daughter at eighteen, and to the son at twenty-one years of age.

His remains were interred in St. Paul’s burying-ground, in that city, where a suitable monument is erected. Captain Lawrence was amiable in private as he had made himself admirable in his professional life. The domestic were in the same circle with the ocean virtues, each heightening the charm of the others. As a Christian, his proof of faith in our Heavenly Father was love to every brother upon earth. His country wears the laurel to his honor, the cypress for his loss.

A monument has been erected in Trinity churchyard, New York, of which the following is a description:—

The design is simple and affectingly appropriate. It is a broken column of white marble, of the pure Doric, the cap broken off and resting on the base. The inscription is, we think, singularly beautiful, and does great honor to the author. It presents a fine contrast to the unfeeling and inflated bombast which so often disgraces this species of composition, exhibiting a rare specimen of that sweet yet dignified simplicity which so well accords with the records and the emblems of perishing mortality. The introduction of the dying words of this gallant officer, is in the highest degree affecting.

In Memory of

Captain James Lawrence,