War 1812 (11 page)

The second cry of sail ho interrupted the commodore’s conversation. “Where away,” the commodore called up to the masthead lookout.

“To the northwest, sir,” the reply came down. “Several ships sir, more like the whole British squadron.”

Taking his telescope and peering toward the oncoming British fleet, the commodore ordered the signal lieutenant to make, “Enemy in sight.”

The ship’s master made his way to where Jonah and the commodore were standing. “It appears they will have the weather gauge,” he volunteered.

“I don’t care,” the commodore snapped. “To windward or leeward, we shall fight today.”

Jonah had no idea what the two were talking about. Lieutenant Jones, seeing the quandary, explained having the wind at their advantage or having to fight the wind. The sun rose and the sky was clear but with light air. For two hours the commodore’s vessels clawed to windward, repeatedly tacking in an effort to close with the British.

At ten-thirty a.m., Commodore Perry appeared very frustrated. “We’ll not bring them to battle before noon,” he said addressing his first lieutenant. “Have the men served their midday meal.”

“Aye, aye,” the lieutenant answered. As he turned to carry out the commodore’s orders, Perry spoke again.

“Lieutenant.”

“Yes sir.”

“A double tot of grog for every man.”

Hearing this, the crew gave a cheer.
Leave it to the commodore to fortify the men for battle,
the lieutenant thought.

Chapter Twelve

A
fter the midday meal
and grog had been served, Commodore Perry had the ship ‘beat to quarters’ and ‘clear for action.’ Jonah felt that he was in the way as he watched what looked like mass confusion quickly turn the ship into a battle ready state. He could hear the noise below the decks as partitions were struck down and stowed. He watched as the surgeon’s mates ran about setting up the place where the wounded would be treated. The deck was doused with water and sand spread across them.

A harried petty officer quickly explained blood made the deck slippery. The wet sand would help with grip. Jonah had faced death in battle many times, but the callousness of the sailor’s abrupt explanation made him shiver.

The wooden stoppers called tampions were removed from the mouth of the guns. Looking at the brutes, Jonah recalled the commodore saying they’d have to be close for the carronades to be effective. Did he think the British would wait until they got in range?
Much like the long rifle compared to the musket,
he thought. A few men with long rifles could standoff a company of infantry with muskets by picking them off before the infantry closed to within range.

Not far away, Jonah could hear a sailor explain to one of the Kentucky riflemen how the battle would likely proceed. “The commodore will try to get the weather gauge. That will give us-un’s the chance to cross the British’s ships and rake ’em. We’ll have our guns blazin so that we blast them from stem to stern.”

Seeing the frown on the Kaintuck’s face with the use of stem to stern, the sailor quickly added, “That’s from the front to the back. If it’s done right, they’ll not likely even get a shot at us. Course, sometimes they do, and then it’s like the infernal pits o’ hell.”

Taking a breath, the sailor looked about. Seeing he had an audience, he wiped his whiskery jaw then continued, “Now, more often than not, two ships will collide. When that happens, grappling hooks get throwed about so the ships get tied together. Iffen that happens, it’s a free for all with the winner taking all… or what’s left. There’ll be marines and sailors swarming all about. Some will have swords or cutlasses and even some of them boarding pikes like I already showed you. Others will have pistols and tomahawks and such. People will be firing swivel guns, sharpshooters will bang away with rifles and officers will have pistols, like I said. You’ll hear officers shouting orders, men screaming in pain, some cussing and some praying. You live through this, boy, you can say you’re going to habben cause you done been to hell.”

“Sir.”

Jonah turned. He’d not heard the lieutenant approach.

“The commodore’s compliments, sir. Would you join him in his cabin?”

“Thank you,” Jonah replied and made his way aft.

Entering the commodore’s cabin, Jonah found the man tearing up letters and throwing them out the stern windows. “Letters from my wife,” Perry said, by way of explanation. “I’d not want the British to have them if I fell or was captured.”

Throwing the last fragments out, the commodore then tied a set of official looking documents in a bundle with a small cannon ball. “These are to go over the side if we are taken,” the commodore explained. “The first lieutenant has been instructed to deal with it if I’m unable. Should we both fall, I leave it in your care.”

Realizing this was a sacred trust, Jonah felt moved. “They will not be taken as long as I breathe, sir.”

“Good. Now, I called you down to offer you a brace of pistols and your choice of a cutlass or sword.”

“I know nothing of either, sir. I have a sharp tinker-made knife and pistol. I also have my tomahawk. The other pistols will be appreciated, but I’ll leave the long blades to someone else.”

Back on deck, Jonah watched as the British and American ships sailed toward each other. Lieutenant James walked up to Jonah. “Makes a magnificent sight, don’t it, sir? Two fleets preparing to do battle. We may never see such a sight again.”

“Do we know the British ships we are fighting?” Jonah asked.

“Yes sir,” James answered. “Commodore Barclay’s fleet is made up of the
Detroit, Queen Charlotte, Lady Prevost,
the
Hunter
, the
Chippewa,
and the
Little Belt.
”

“And our ships are the
Lawrence
,
Niagara
, and the
Caledonia
,” Jonah said.

Lieutenant James replied, “Yes sir, those are three of our ships. We also have the
Ariel, Scorpion, Somers, Porcupine, Tigress,
and the
Trippe.
”

“So, we have the most ships,” Jonah commented.

“Aye,” James replied. “But they have the most guns.”

The crew was silent as each man was deep in his own thoughts.
Would we defeat the British? Will I fall? Who will care for my family if I fall?
So many questions and no answers. The only thing for sure is a battle was about to take place.

Suddenly, a cheer went up as the commodore ordered his blue banner run up. The banner read ‘Don’t give up the ship’. The banner was the battle slogan Perry used to honor the dying words of Captain James Lawrence. The captain had been a close friend who had died in battle on the first of June. The commodore’s ship had been named for the fallen
Lawrence
.

As the
Lawrence
sailed forward, Lieutenant James looked aft and hissed, “Damn Elliott.”

Elliott had been commander of the Great Lakes squadron until Commodore Perry had arrived. Some thought Elliott had lost his command due to Perry’s political involvement with the senior senator from Rhode Island. Elliott had acted appropriately thus far. He was in command of the brig
Niagara
of twenty-two guns, the
Lawrence
’s sister ship.

Following Jones’s eyes, Jonah could see the
Niagara
seemed to be lagging behind. As the distance between the two squadrons narrowed, Lieutenant Jones spoke again in a nervous, trembling voice.

“Are we to take on the entire British squadron alone?”

The schooners
Ariel
and
Scorpion
were some distance off the weather bow.
Caledonia
was a small brig of only three guns and was further behind than either of the schooners or
Niagara
. A boom was heard, and Jonah saw a huge splash as the shot fell short.

The commodore spoke to his first lieutenant, “Please note in the log, sir, at eleven forty-five, fired on by the British ship,
Detroit
.”

Five minutes later a second shot was fired, only this time it was a hit. Jonah watched, as if in slow motion, the enemy ball smash into the side of the ship, the bulwarks exploding, sending wooden splinters high into the air. Two men were killed instantly; the ball turning their bodies into a bloody pulp.

The deck suddenly turned dark as the downed men’s blood seeped out of their lifeless bodies mingling with the wet sand. Over the side, an officer barked. The mangled bodies were hastily scooped up by their mates and thrown over the side. A memorial service might be held later, but now they were in the way, with little enough left of either to recognize they’d once been men.

Commodore Perry ordered that the
Lawrence
be shifted in position so that they could return fire. By this time, cannon balls were raining down with cries of pain and anger all about. Petty officers cursed as they drove their men faster. However, the return fire had little effect, and Jonah now fully understood the commodore’s concern of closing with the enemy so that the heavier firepower would be of use. At this point, the
Lawrence
was being blasted to shreds while still not in range for their big guns. Elliott’s
Niagara
gave no indication of joining the battle. Jonah thought of Lieutenant Jones words, “Are we to take on the entire British squadron alone?”

For the next two hours, hell rained down on the poor
Lawrence
from the guns of the British warships,
Detroit
and
Queen Charlotte
. Jonah had never seen such destruction and yet the ship was still afloat. However, it would not remain so much longer. The
Lawrence
’s firepower had dwindled. Most of the ship’s upper works had been blasted away and still the deadly bombardment continued.

Screams, curses, and the sounds of balls plowing into the ship all seemed to mingle. The
Lawrence
was now down to seven serviceable guns, but after another devastating broadside, they were down to three.

Lieutenant J. J. Yarnell, bleeding from a bad wound to his face, ran to Perry’s side. Shouting to make his voice heard, he exclaimed, “The officers in my division have all been cut down. Can I have others?”

Looking about, Perry ordered three of his own aides to assist Yarnell. Not a quarter hour later, the lieutenant was back, bleeding now from both his face and a new wound to his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, sir, but those officers have been cut down.”

The sound of balls shrieking across the deck made the men duck as more cries of anguish were heard.

Perry gave a sigh then replied, “There are no more. You’ll have to see the surgeon and see if any of the wounded are fit enough to fight.”

“Yes sir,” the lieutenant answered.

“Yarnell.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Have the surgeon tend to your wounds.”

Men continued to fall and Jonah felt a sharp sting to his arm. Blood started to ooze. A piece of wood or metal had sliced through his shirt and caused a superficial wound. One of the riflemen quickly tied a grimy handkerchief around the wound to stop the bleeding. The men manning the last serviceable gun were now down. Perry called for help, and men crawled over the deck strewn with corpses to answer their commodore’s call.

Soon, the last remaining gun was destroyed. The
Lawrence
was now so battered she was nothing more than a floating hulk. A floating hulk out of control as all the steering, sails, and rigging had been destroyed. Of one hundred thirty-six officers and men who had made up the
Lawrence
’s crew, all but a dozen or so were either wounded or dead. Those left were doing all they could to care for their fallen mates. There was no one left to fight on the once beautiful ship.

Looking about, the commodore spoke grimly to the last standing lieutenant, “Find me a boat and a crew. I will transfer my flag.”

“Aye, aye sir.”

“Mr. Lee.”

“Yes, Commodore.”

“Would you care to join me?”

“My pleasure, sir.”

Soon, the commodore’s brother appeared with six men to row the only surviving ship’s boat.

“We are ready, sir.”

“Very well, haul down my banner.”

As the men entered the boat, Jonah noticed two of the crew were volunteers from the Kentucky riflemen. Climbing down into the boat, Jonah winced as a pain shot through his wounded arm.