CHAPTER XV.
THE FIRST SHOT.
There is a fair excuse for me if I linger long over this battle, when we gave to the English king such a surprise as I’m thinking he never had before, for it was my first real experience in that bloody business known as warfare, and so decided a victory that I can well be pardoned for feeling proud, even though my share therein was the least among all the brave spirits by which I was so fortunate as to be surrounded.
I would give to all my shipmates the full meed of praise which they deserve, and yet must I fail in so doing because every man was a hero, and to speak particularly of one seemingly detracts from the others.
It is only possible to say that each did his duty, and, perhaps, with the exception of myself, there was never one in all our fleet who did not burn with a desire to show the enemy what could be done when the opportunity offered.
It was not until near to ten o’clock in the forenoon that there was sufficient weight in the wind to fill our sails, and during all that time of waiting, when every moment was like an hour, the brave fellows chafed at the delay even as a lion chafes at the bars which confine him.
The British squadron was as helpless as we, and lay full in our sight without power of movement.
It may be that those on board the enemy’s ships were as eager to come at us as we were to be at their throats, but I questioned it, because they did not have so much at stake.
When the breeze was sufficiently strong to belly out the sails, the command was given as I have already set down, and the words were hardly spoken before the boats’ crews were at their stations, every man rejoicing because the moment had arrived when he might do something, however slight, toward hastening the laggard movement.
Slowly our vessels moved out on the bosom of the lake, every craft propelled by boats, and as we advanced the breeze freshened until, when the fleet was within two miles of the enemy’s squadron, the sails were filled sufficiently to admit of our depending upon them alone.
Alec and I were standing well aft, for we had not been told off as the crew of a boat, when the commodore said to his sailing-master, Mr. Taylor:—
“When the men have been called in you may run to leeward of the islands.”
“Then you will be forced to engage the enemy to leeward,” the officer replied, and although I failed to understand the meaning of the nautical terms, my pulse was quickened by the reply:—
“I don’t care whether it be to windward or to leeward; they shall fight this day!”
Then the tiny balls of bunting were run up to the masthead, ordering the other craft to “wear ship,” but before this command could be obeyed the wind suddenly shifted until it came out of the southeast, from which point it was possible for us to keep what is called the “weather-gauge.”
“Now we’ve got ’em in proper shape!” I heard old Silas exclaim, and straightway my spirits rose, for it seemed at the moment as if we had secured some great advantage, though I failed to understand what it might be.
The crew cheered when our fleet, the Lawrence leading, stood out toward the enemy, a white foam showing under the stem of every vessel, and we went to our guns, which had long since been loaded with the utmost care.
It must be admitted that the Britishers presented a noble sight as we bore down upon them. Their vessels, newly painted and with colors flying, hove to in order to meet us, and now the timorous among us, I being of the number, could understand that they were not averse to an encounter.
There had been a faint hope in my mind that Commodore Barclay would shun an engagement, but that was dispelled on observing the preparations made to meet us.
Nothing short of an interposition by divine Providence could prevent a battle; and my heart sank within me as I realized that very soon many of the eager men who manned the Lawrence would be still in death, or writhing under the surgeon’s knife.
The arrangements made for the care of the wounded struck a cold chill to my heart. The ward-room had been cleared that it might be used as a cockpit, and here Dr. Parsons laid out bandages and knives until it seemed as if he expected the entire ship’s company would soon be under his care.
Half a dozen of those on the sick-list had been told off as his assistants, and they stood around the hastily constructed tables as if eager to greet such as might need their aid.
In all the hours that followed there was nothing more horrible than these preparations for the carving and slashing of those who as yet were sound in limb and body, save it might be when the decks of the brig were wetted and strewn with sand.
I did not understand the meaning of this last work, and asked old Silas for an explanation, whereupon he replied, as if speaking of some trifling matter:—
“It won’t be long, lad, before these ’ere white planks will be slippery with the blood of them who are now so eager to be at the Britishers, and it is to soak up that same blood that the sand is strewn around. Presently, when you have occasion to go to port or starboard, you’ll realize how necessary that may be.”
I drew away from the old man, sick at heart. Such precaution caused me to be more timid than had all the predictions and conjectures.
I had my fill of warfare even before the action began.
As I afterward came to know, during the consultation of officers in the commodore’s cabin on the night previous it had been decided that when the engagement commenced each vessel in our fleet should attack some particular ship of the British squadron. As for instance: The Lawrence was to engage the Detroit; the Niagara, the Queen Charlotte; and in such-like order, every craft selecting an antagonist somewhere near her own size. Therefore now, when the wind permitted of our line being formed, the Niagara led the way.
Our ship had been cleared for action some time before, and as the real advance was begun Commodore Perry ordered that the blue banner, with its inspiring words in white, be brought up from his cabin.
Holding it at arm’s length that it might be plainly seen by every one on deck, the commander said, in words that look cold enough when set down in writing, but which thrilled all who heard, and caused my faint courage to increase until I almost longed for the combat:—
“The enemy, for which we have waited so long, is at last before us. You know we are slightly outclassed in guns and number of men; but to such brave hearts as yours that is of no especial importance. We shall soon be within range, and I promise that this brig be laid as close alongside the Detroit as the wind will permit. It is not for me to urge upon you the importance of doing full duty this day. Your country and your honor demands that the enemy be whipped. It was agreed between the commanders of the other vessels that when this was run up it should be the signal for action. On it are written the last words of Captain Lawrence, and I know full well you will heed them. They signify your desire to fight to the last plank. My brave lads, shall I hoist it?”
“‘AY, AY, SIR, HOIST IT!’”
He would have been the veriest coward living who could not have shouted as heartily as did we all, my voice rising high as any one around me:—
“Ay, ay, sir; hoist it!”
The flag was bent on to the halliards, and as it rose steadily aloft our crew burst into a very hurricane of cheers, which were echoed by those on the vessels nearest, for by this time I warrant that every man in the fleet knew the meaning of that signal.
We saluted it again and again, and as the tumult of voices went up on the morning air, I seemed to see before me the commander of the Chesapeake, as he spoke the words which were to be our battle-cry.
From that moment I ceased to hope that the action could be avoided.
To manœuvre the fleet into position was a slow task, and the hour of noon came while we were yet beyond range of the enemy, whose vessels were moving here and there to prevent us from gaining any advantage.
Our commodore, mindful of the wants of others, ordered that food be served, and I saw men munching bread, cheese, or meat, grumbling meanwhile because it was not exactly to their liking, who an hour later had departed from this earth for evermore.
As for me, I would as soon have eaten with the coffin of my dearest friend for a table, as to have eaten then; but Alec was stouter hearted, and took his rations with a relish which I envied.
“It’s not well to fight on an empty stomach, lad!” old Silas cried, when he saw me turn away from the food, and I foolishly replied:—
“It can make little difference to him who falls whether his appetite be satisfied or not.”
“True for you, lad; but some of us will be alive when this battle is ended by the haulin’ down of the British flags, and they’ll need be ready to clear the decks of those who are no longer to be counted on the ship’s list.”
That the others cheered these words only served to show me how heartless men may become after having learned the “art” of warfare, and I turned away with a sensation such as cannot well be described.
Now the line of battle was formed. The British flag-ship, supported by the schooner Chippewa, was in the lead. After her came the brig Hunter; then the Queen Charlotte, commanded by Captain Finnis; flanked by the schooners Lady Prevost and Little Belt.
The Lawrence led our line, with the Scorpion and the Ariel on her left, and the Caledonia on the right. The orders were that these three craft should encounter the Detroit, Hunter, and Chippewa.
Next came the Niagara, with instructions to fight the Queen Charlotte, while the Somers, Porcupine, Tigress, and the Trippe were to engage with the Lady Prevost and the Little Belt.
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!”
Our commander was wearing no uniform; clad only in the garb of a common sailor, with blue nankeen jacket and white duck trousers, he was none the less a commodore, and there was not a Britisher so dull who would not have singled him out as the man who directed all our movements.
We advanced without opening fire until each vessel of our fleet was nearly in the position marked out for her the night previous, and then we set the signal to open the action.
The first gun on the American side came from the Scorpion, as I knew full well because of having my eyes on the schooner at the time; then the Ariel discharged two of her short twelves, and an instant later old Silas began his work.
This last shot struck the Detroit just above the water-line, plowing its way through her hull with a splintering of timbers which told that much damage had been done.
What a cheer went up from our men at this moment!
I think the fact that we had succeeded in sending a shot fairly home caused me to forget the danger, for certain it is I ceased to be afraid, and remained keenly on the alert for all that was passing around me.
I saw the schooner Trippe, outsailed in the advance, fully two miles astern, and wondered vaguely how long it might be before she would be near enough to give an account of herself.
The Scorpion and the Ariel remained near at hand, doing good work as I could see, viewing the scene like one in a dream, and I also understood that the enemy’s squadron was concentrating all its fire upon our brig.
It was as if to them there was no other vessel in the engagement save the one bearing our commodore’s flag, and that once she was disabled the victory would be won.
Within ten minutes after the first shot was fired I knew full well why the decks had been wetted and covered with sand.
Already were the white timbers stained crimson with the blood of my shipmates; but I was in such mental condition of excitement as neither to know nor care who had fallen.
I understood that Alec was as yet unhurt, because he worked by my side, cheering when a shot struck the enemy, and soothing with kindly word some poor fellow of ours who had been mangled by British iron.
That the Lawrence was speedily getting the worst of the fight could be told even by a lad like myself, and I felt a certain sense of satisfaction when Commodore Perry shouted through a speaking trumpet to the craft nearest, which chanced to be the Niagara:—
“Pass the word for all hands to make sail and bear down on Barclay. Lay him close alongside at all hazards!”
Then, even above the roar of the guns, I heard the order transmitted from one craft to the other, until it seemed that every sailing-master in the fleet must have heard it; but to my surprise the Niagara hauled off slightly, instead of obeying the commands.
To my eyes the engagement had ceased to be a battle, but was become a slaughter.
On every hand were dead, dying, or wounded men, and four times within twice as many minutes had the crew of our gun been so thinned out that old Silas was forced to call for assistance.
Then it was, just at the moment he urged one of the new men who had been sent to assist us, to stand bravely up to his work, that the old man’s hip was shattered by a grape-shot, and he fell like one dead across the breach of the gun.
“We must get him into the cockpit,” Alec said to me, speaking as calmly as if this was but an incident which we had been anticipating. “Take him by the head, and move quickly, else he will bleed to death before Dr. Parsons has a chance at him!”
Numbed with horror, I obeyed; and as we carried the old hero across the deck a stream of blood marked our way, making such a trail that it seemed as if his veins must have been emptied before we had traversed half the short distance.
Once in the ward-room I understood in a single instant what might be the horrors of war, better than I could have done by remaining on deck the full day.
The scene in this place, which was separated from the terrible tumult above only by the deck-planking, was more horrible than can be described in mere words.
The groans, the prayers of the dying, and the bustling to and fro of the surgeon and his assistants, all combined to make a noise more terrifying than the roar of the guns and the crashing of timbers.
The hue of blood everywhere, the cutting of human flesh, or the probing of ghastly wounds, sickened me until never again can I be brought to believe that there is anything noble or grand in warfare.
Even as we laid old Silas, now unconscious from loss of blood, upon one of the rough tables whereon were shreds of flesh and fragments of bone, a shot came crashing into the brig’s side, tearing a passage straight through this place of torment, and releasing from their misery two poor fellows who had suffered the tortures of the amputating knife.
One of the surgeon’s assistants was wounded by the same shot, but Dr. Parsons gave his attention first to old Silas, and in answer to Alec’s eager question replied:—
“The wound is not necessarily fatal, lad. On shore I would say the man had every chance for recovery; but, unfortunately, he cannot have here such care as is needed.”
I would have lingered by the old gunner’s side, for I had come to look upon him as a friend, and it cut me to the heart that he might go out of the world without a word of farewell; but Alec forced me to accompany him.
“We are needed on deck, and by loitering here may lay ourselves open to a charge of cowardice.”
Heaven knows there was no desire in my mind to loiter in that horrible place! I had lingered only in the hope the old gunner might revive sufficiently to give me at least a last word.
When we came out of the cockpit dense clouds of pungent smoke hid everything from view; it was difficult to distinguish objects ten feet away on our own decks, and I was thankful for the obscurity.
I knew, however, that on every hand were the dead and the dying; that the brig which had looked so neat and trim less than an hour previous, was torn and splintered, every plank dyed crimson by the blood of the brave men who had defended her so nobly, and that all the ships of the enemy’s squadron were pouring into her a deadly fire!
“Where is the Niagara?” I asked of Alec, shrieking the question in his ear, otherwise he might not have heard it amid that thunderous din, and from out of the smoke came the voice of a grievously wounded sailor:—
“The cowards are hanging back, even though they were the first to get the order for close action. When the smoke lifted a few minutes ago I saw the brig almost out of range, using her heavy guns as if at target practice.”
Alec, uttering a cry of mingled sorrow and anger, ran aft, I keeping close at his heels, and he had no more than gained the quarterdeck when a splintered fragment of our starboard rail struck him on the shoulder, literally tearing the clothes from his back.
I sprang forward quickly, believing him to be wounded; but the commodore was ahead of me, and for an instant he ceased to observe what was going on around us in his anxiety for the lad.
“I’m not hurt, Oliver dear,” Alec said with a smile; but the sudden pallor of his face told that the shock had been a severe one. “It’s not the nearest call for a wound that I have had,” he added, showing his hat, through which had passed two musket-balls.
“I don’t ask you to be less brave, brother mine, for now is the time when every man must hold his life cheaply; but you should be sufficiently cautious not to expose yourself unnecessarily.”
“I came to ask why the commander of the Niagara had not obeyed orders? It is said she lays at long range while we are so sorely pressed.”
“I cannot answer your question, lad,” the commodore replied bitterly. “Elliott is no coward, and yet he has given us but little support. Richard Dobbins, go forward and ascertain how much damage the Lawrence has sustained in that quarter.”
I obeyed on the instant, forgetting all my fear and horror in the terrible thought that we were surely being worsted, else why had our commander spoken in so hopeless a tone.
Once forward of the foremast, and I did not get there without stumbling again and again over a dead or a wounded man, it was as if I had suddenly boarded a wreck.
Everything was carried away forward from the after portion of the forecastle-deck, and I was like to being pitched overboard as I pressed blindly along until coming upon the very edge of the shattered timbers.
I believe of a verity that a missile of some description struck this portion of the brig every five seconds, and but for the horror of the discovery my legs would have trembled beneath me in abject fear of death; whereas I utterly failed to realize the danger.
The Lawrence was little better than a wreck; it did not seem possible she could swim ten minutes longer, and I hastened back over that deck slippery with blood, despite the sand which had been strewn upon it, to make my doleful report.
I had but just gained the quarterdeck when a round shot struck the mainmast within three feet of my head, sending huge splinters flying in every direction, one of them hitting Alec Perry full in the breast.
I saw the dear lad fling up his hands convulsively, and then pitch forward upon the deck like one smitten by sudden death.
It was as if that terrible sight deprived me of all my senses save that of affection for him who had proven himself such a true comrade, and with a cry of despair I flung myself upon the deck by his side, heeding neither the danger to life, nor of defeat.