With Perry on Lake Erie

If we lads had expected to be greeted with enthusiastic praises when we pulled alongside the Caledonia, near that portion of the deck where my father was standing, we were doomed to disappointment.

“Who have you there?” he asked sharply, not for the moment recognizing his old neighbor and professed friend.

“A spy whom we found on the lake front, having just come over, or about to put across,” Alec replied, and I would have added more but that my father asked sternly:—

“How do you know he is a spy?”

“First, because of his suspicious movements when we hove in sight,” Alec replied, still continuing to act as spokesman. “Dicky Dobbins and I went along the shore for a stroll, and, having come near to a clump of bushes grown close by the water’s edge, saw a boat half concealed therein; also this man in hiding. When we came up he greeted us with two pistol bullets, and but for my comrade I would have been killed. Then, when we had him bound fast, he tried to bribe us into giving him his liberty. If all this be no token of his guilt, then am I much mistaken.”

“It is Nathaniel Hubbard,” I interrupted, understanding that as yet my father had not recognized the man.

“Nathaniel Hubbard!” he repeated. “And you have taken him for a spy?”

“If he was an honest citizen, sir, there would have been no such scene as I described,” Alec said stoutly.

Perhaps if Master Hubbard had made any loud claim of innocence at this moment he might have been believed, so great was my father’s confidence in the man. But, as I have already said, it was as if he collapsed entirely when we had gotten the best of him, and now could not utter a lie in his own defence.

Instead of giving us orders concerning the prisoner, my father wheeled abruptly around, disappearing almost immediately down the companionway, and I knew he had gone to acquaint Captain Perry with the painful intelligence that one of Presque Isle’s most trusted citizens had proven himself a traitor.

We waited in the boat, Alec and I, until perhaps ten minutes had passed, and then one of the guards came to the rail and said:—

“The captain commands that the prisoner be taken on shore by a force of men from the brig, and you boys are to remain here.”

Now it was that Nathaniel Hubbard found his tongue. He who should have welcomed death as a means of hiding him from view of those who had trusted him, begged piteously for life, knowing full well the people of Presque Isle would take the law in their own hands once his perfidy was known.

“Pray to Captain Dobbins that I be confined on board this ship!” he cried to the soldier who had brought us the command. “Entreat him by the friendship of former days not to deliver me into the keeping of those who would shed my blood!”

Tears stood in the traitor’s eyes, so great was his fear, and I turned my head away, not caring to look at that which was so disagreeable, for there was no pity in my heart toward one who would sell his countrymen.

“Go, and repeat what he has said to Captain Dobbins,” Alec commanded the soldier, and the latter obeyed, returning a few moments later with the word:

“He is to be confined on board this vessel. You lads are to go into the cabin.”

We obeyed right willingly, for neither of us cared to remain while our prisoner was being taken on board, and having gone below into Captain Perry’s cabin, we were called upon to give a detailed account of our forenoon’s work.

When the story was finished my father sent us on deck again, neither he nor Alec’s brother making any comment, and once there we saw that the traitor’s boat was empty. He had been disposed of in some fashion which did not concern us, so that there was no possibility of his being able to carry further information to the enemy.

Old Silas, the gunner, met us near the companionway, clasping each by the hand as he said, with more feeling than I had believed it possible for him to display:—

“You have done good work this day, lads, but unwittingly caused sorrow to many in Presque Isle; for there be no honest man who will feel other than deepest distress because of findin’ a trusted neighbor to be a villain.”

“Would it have pleased you better, Master Boyd, if we had let him go free?” Alec asked.

“Heaven forbid, lad! While one may be distressed because of the unmaskin’, there’ll be great relief at knowin’ that information of our movements is no longer bein’ sold to the enemy. I have no question but you have saved the fleet from destruction, unless it so be he has already carried word of our intention to take the vessels over the bar. Once the Britishers know that we count on leavin’ the bay, you may be certain Captain Finnis’s squadron will lay off an’ on waitin’ a chance to pounce upon us.”

“What will they do with him?” I asked.

“That is more than I can say. He deserves the death of a traitor; but whether there be sufficient proof against him is another matter.”

“Surely you do not believe there is any question of his purpose in being on the lake front where we found him?”

“Not a bit of it, lad; but what we believe is one thing, and legal proof quite another. Howsomever, there is no reason why we should spend our time talkin’ of him, for it’s a subject that gives one a bitter taste in the mouth. There is much work to be done on shore, an’ we’d best take our share of it. While you lads were ferretin’ out traitors, an hundred and five men arrived; therefore, as I have heard it said this mornin’, Captain Perry has about three hundred officers an’ men fit to do duty. A scanty number with which to man two twenty-gun brigs an’ eight other crafts; but they are to be distributed around in the most economical fashion possible, an’ we shall put to sea as soon as the fleet can be got over the bar.”

“How long will that take?” Alec asked.

“I cannot say; but certain it is that we are to move down to the entrance of the harbor to-morrow mornin.’”

This was Saturday, the last day of July, and with the thought in my mind as to the breaking of one of the commandments, I asked old Silas if he believed it would be right that we should put to sea on Sunday.

“We are to make a move in the mornin’, lad. War is a wicked thing at the best, an’ those who engage in it give little heed to God’s day, so that an advantage may be gained. Our commanders have the idea, from some information brought by General Mead, that no time is to be lost, and orders have already been given for the fleet to make ready. Even the small craft must be lightened in order to get them over the bar, and I understand that there is much doubt in Captain Perry’s mind, as there is in my own, whether the Lawrence and Niagara can get out at all. It won’t be a short job at the best, and I’m allowin’ a week will be well nigh spent before the cruise is begun.”

By the time the old man had finished speaking we were in the traitor’s boat, pulling toward the shipyard where the “camels,” having been completed, were being tested.

It was dull work here for Alec and I, since there was little we could do to aid in the task, and I proposed that we spend the remainder of the day with my mother, for it might be many weeks before such another opportunity would be ours.

Therefore it was that until daybreak on Sunday morning, the first of August, we remained quietly at home, and then set out with my father, who had come ashore about midnight, to take our places on board the Lawrence as members of her crew.

Old Silas was there, ready for duty, as might have been expected, and when the brig, under the influence of the early morning breeze, passed the town toward that neck of sand which threatened to deprive us of the opportunity to take part in the battle we believed to be near at hand, every woman and child in the settlement stood on the shore to witness what they probably believed was a departure.

The cruise came to a speedy ending.

The Lawrence dropped anchor with her bow just resting on the sand-bar, and orders were given for the gunboat Trippe,[3] which was the smallest vessel in the fleet, to go ahead for the purpose of ascertaining the depth of water.

When she grounded, not more than fifty yards from where the flag-ship lay, it seemed certain we would not be able to get a single craft out, and Alec Perry said despondently to me:—

“It seems as if we were fated to remain idle while the Britishers hold control of the lake. It were better my brother had remained at Newport, than to come here only to be balked of his purpose.”

I could say nothing cheering, for the same thought was in my own mind; but Captain Perry and my father were not men who could be so quickly disheartened. An obstacle in their way only served to arouse them to greater effort, and one would have said that this apparent disaster had long been foreseen and provided for.

The entire fleet had come to anchor when the gunboat grounded, and, as if by previous arrangement, every small boat near the shipyard and the shore round about put off to take part in the arduous labor which must be performed before our squadron could be gotten into deep water.

Now came five days of excessive and exhaustive labor, during which time I do not believe Captain Perry was below more than two hours on a stretch, although Dr. Parsons had declared that he was dangerously ill, and then the work had been performed.

It is not seemly that such a task should be passed over in few words, and yet my story has run so long already that what these brave men did must be described in the smallest possible space.

The gunboat Trippe, in command of Lieutenant Smith, was the first craft over the bar, and the work of lightening had not been excessive. All which was taken from her could be cared for in small boats, therefore once she was in deep water her armament and stores were quickly on board again.

The Porcupine, commanded by Midshipman Senat, and the Ohio, captained by my father, went over at about the same time, that is to say, during Sunday night.

The Scorpion, with Sailing-Master Champlin in command, did not succeed in crossing until Monday noon, and it was late on that night before such goods as had been taken from her could be put on board again, since it became necessary to carry a goodly portion of them ashore.

The Tigress, with Master’s Mate McDonald acting as captain, and the Somers, under Sailing-Master Almy, were gotten over before Tuesday noon.

Then came the Caledonia, with Purser McGrath in command; and the Ariel, captained by Lieutenant Packet, crossing on the evening of the third day.

There were left inside only the Lawrence, which Captain Perry himself commanded; and the Niagara, under Captain Elliott, to be carried over.

But these last were, as old Silas put it, “the tough nuts of the lot;” for if it was necessary to take so much from the smaller craft before they were sufficiently lightened, it did not seem possible that the two brigs could, even by aid of the camels, be forced into the waters of the lake.

All this while, as may be imagined, the strictest watch was kept, for we knew full well Commodore Barclay was somewhere in the vicinity with his squadron, and it stood to reason that he expected we would attempt such a manœuvre as was then in progress.

Immediately the smaller vessels had been forced into deep water their guns were put in position and loaded; everything was made ready as completely as if we knew an attack would be made within the next hour, and had the Britishers appeared while the brigs were comparatively helpless, I doubt not but that they would have met with a warm reception, although it is not reasonable to suppose we might have succeeded in beating them off.

When, on the morning of the fourth day, work was begun upon the Lawrence and Niagara, every man and boy among us was in a state of the greatest possible excitement. We understood full well how deplorable would be our plight if the enemy should appear just after the guns had been taken from the brigs, for then the two vessels on which we placed the greatest reliance could have had no part in the battle that must have ensued.

Right here let me set down what, as a matter of course, we could not know at the time; but which explains why we were allowed to perform this long task unmolested.

I have seen a letter which Mr. Ryason wrote to my father, and from it comes this extract:—

“The citizens of Port Dover, a small village on Ryason’s Creek, a little below Long Point, offered Commodore Barclay and his officers a public dinner. While that dinner was being attended, Perry was getting his vessels over the bar, and thereby acquired power to skilfully dispute the supremacy of Lake Erie with the British. At the dinner Commodore Barclay remarked, in response to a complimentary toast, ‘I expect to find the Yankee brigs hard and fast on the bar when I return, in which predicament it will be but a small job to destroy them.’ Had Barclay been more mindful of duty, his expectations might have been realized.”

If we of Presque Isle had had this information at the time, it would have saved us great distress of mind, for there was not among all our forces one who thought otherwise than did old Silas.

He said to me despondently, when the order was given to load into small boats the guns from the Lawrence:—

“Now has come the time, lad, when I believe of a verity that our ruin is near at hand. It does not stand to reason that the British commodore can hold off longer, for he knows full well we would set about crossing the bar at the earliest moment, and if he sights us at this work while the two brigs are dismantled, we are undone.”

During the earlier portion of the task the men had labored with now and then a jest or a cheery word; some speculated as to what would be done once the ships were afloat, and all seemed in a certain degree happy, although excited. But now, when we were doing that which would compass our own destruction should the enemy’s squadron heave in sight, every face wore an expression of deepest gravity; men spoke in whispers, as if fearing the lightest sound of their voices might be token of what we were about, and I saw no smile, nor heard an idle word during all that while.

To get the camels into position under the brig was a difficult matter, but finally accomplished, and on the morning of the 4th of August Captain Perry’s flag-ship, with every small boat towing ahead, was hauled across the barrier of sand into the waters of Lake Erie.

Then, while a portion of the force labored at dismantling and making ready the Niagara for the same passage, the remainder set about replacing the guns, reloading the ammunition and the stores, and by two o’clock of that day every man and boy among us breathed more freely, for one of our ships was in condition to give battle to whosoever might attempt to work us a mischief.

By thus dividing the laboring force in order to arm the Lawrence as speedily as possible, the work on the Niagara required much more time than it had on the flag-ship, and not until noon of the 5th did the last vessel of the squadron move out over the bar.

Just at that moment, when our work was so well-nigh completed that we need have little fear, the enemy’s squadron appeared in sight.

Commodore Barclay had at last come to his senses; but it was too late, so far as capturing the Yankee fleet on the bar was concerned.

Eight-and-forty hours previous, the sight of the British flags hoisted on vessels carrying forty-four guns would have filled us with dismay, and well it might, for then our doom was sealed.

Now, however, having successfully combated greater difficulties, we felt as if the coming of Commodore Barclay was something so trifling as not to be considered, and many of our people, like old Silas, rejoiced in the belief that we might even at this moment, when the Niagara was virtually dismantled, give them battle.

Among those who were eager to meet the British, even though we were unprepared, was Captain Perry.

It is proper now, perhaps, that I call him by a higher title, since he was really in command of the fleet, and I noted the fact, as did Alec, with most intense satisfaction, that once the vessels were in deep water the men spoke of our commander as “commodore,” when previously it had been simply “captain.”

We had a taste of what this young commander was ready to do, when he sent orders to Lieutenant Packet and Sailing-Master Champlin to go out with their respective vessels, the Ariel and the Scorpion, and boldly engage the squadron for the purpose of detaining them until we should be able to come up.

This order was so much to the liking of those who were sent to repeat it to the commanders of the schooners, that they shouted the words loudly that all might hear, and as we labored with redoubled efforts, although well nigh on the verge of exhaustion, to refit the Niagara, a shout of satisfaction and triumph went up such as must have been heard by the tardy Commodore Barclay.

“We are in for hot work now, lads, and plenty of it,” old Silas said in a tone of satisfaction, as we two lads assisted him in mounting one of the guns that had just been sent on board, for every able-bodied man from the Lawrence had been ordered to aid in the work of refitting this last vessel to cross the bar. “Our commodore isn’t one to shilly-shally ’round when there’s a chance of burnin’ powder with good effect, an’ his sendin’ the schooners out in such prompt fashion shows that he ain’t minded to lose an opportunity for a fight.”

“Think you there will be a battle this night?” Alec asked, so excited that his voice trembled.

“That is accordin’ to yonder Britisher’s stomach. If it so be he says the word, I’ll warrant you we’ll go with our three hundred men—hardly more than enough to work the fleet—and give him such a taste of our metal as won’t be pleasin’.”

“If Oliver should set out so poorly prepared and be whipped, the government would blame him as severely as if he had a full force,” Alec said, half to himself; and I understood from the words that the lad hoped Barclay was not of the mind to wait until we might come up with him.

“But he won’t be whipped, lad;” and old Silas spoke in a tone of confidence, as if he could read the future. “We Yankees have been kept cooped up in Presque Isle bay so long that each will do the work of three men when the chance is given him. We’ll not be whipped, lad, as Barclay shall soon learn to his cost.”

Now it was that as we worked every one of us gazed seaward at brief intervals, looking with pride upon the little Ariel and Scorpion, while they stood boldly on toward the British squadron that could have sunk them with a single broadside, the stars and stripes flying proudly from their mastheads, and all hands doubtless at quarters, hoping it might be possible to engage in a contest, however unequal.

But the battle was not to be on that day, and well perhaps for our commodore that his challenge was not accepted, for the odds against us might have proven too great, despite the eagerness of the men.

Before the two schooners were come within range of the enemy’s ships the squadron was put about, heading for the North Foreland, crowding on all sail as if it was feared our tiny schooners might insist upon a battle.

We cheered, as a matter of course, when the enemy thus fled, and laughed in derision at his cowardice; but there was beneath it all a deep disappointment because the time had not come when we might show our strength and determination.

“Never you mind, lad,” old Silas said, as we stood looking after the retreating fleet, and doubtless showing in our faces signs of that which was in our hearts. “Never you mind. Commodore Perry ain’t the one to hang ’round here while there’s a British vessel afloat on Lake Erie, and I’m willin’ to wager all my prize-money that if Commodore Barclay doesn’t come out boldly to meet us, we shall hunt him up, and the battle won’t be long delayed unless it so chances the gallant redcoats surrender without firing a gun.”