D'Ri and I

  XVII

  Orders came shortly from the War Department providing a detail togo and help man the guns of Perry at Put-in Bay. I had the honorof leading them on the journey and turning them over to the youngCaptain. I could not bear to be lying idle at the garrison. Athought of those in captivity was with me night and day, but Icould do nothing for them. I had had a friendly talk with GeneralBrown. He invited and received my confidence touching the tendersolicitude I was unable to cover. I laid before him the plan of anexpedition. He smiled, puffing a cigar thoughtfully.

  "Reckless folly, Bell," said he, after a moment. "You are youngand lucky. If you were flung in the broad water there with amillstone tied to your neck, I should not be surprised to see youturn up again. My young friend, to start off with no destinationbut Canada is too much even for you. We have no men to waste.Wait; a rusting sabre is better than a hole in the heart. Therewill be good work for you in a few days, I hope."

  And there was--the job of which I have spoken, that came to methrough his kind offices. We set sail in a schooner one brightmorning,--D'ri and I and thirty others,--bound for Two-Mile Creek.Horses were waiting for us there. We mounted them, and made thelong journey overland--a ride through wood and swale on a road wornby the wagons of the emigrant, who, even then, was pushing westwardto the fertile valleys of Ohio. It was hard travelling, but thatwas the heyday of my youth, and the bird music, and the many voicesof a waning summer in field and forest, were somehow in harmonywith the great song of my heart. In the middle of the afternoon ofSeptember 6, we came to the Bay, and pulled up at headquarters, atwo-story frame building on a high shore. There were woodedislands in the offing, and between them we could see thefleet--nine vessels, big and little.

  I turned over the men, who were taken to the ships immediately andput under drill. Surgeon Usher of the _Lawrence_ and a youngmidshipman rowed me to Gibraltar Island, well out in the harbor,where the surgeon presented me to Perry--a tall, shapely man, withdark hair and eyes, and ears hidden by heavy tufts of beard. Hestood on a rocky point high above the water, a glass to his eye,looking seaward. His youth surprised me: he was then twenty-eight.I had read much of him and was looking for an older man. Hereceived me kindly: he had a fine dignity and gentle manners.Somewhere he had read of that scrape of mine--the last one thereamong the Avengers. He gave my hand a squeeze and my sword acompliment I have not yet forgotten, assuring me of his pleasurethat I was to be with him awhile. The greeting over, we rowed awayto the _Lawrence_. She was chopping lazily at anchor in a lightbreeze, her sails loose. Her crew cheered their commander as wecame under the frowning guns.

  "They 're tired of waiting," said he; "they 're looking forbusiness when I come aboard."

  He showed me over the clean decks: it was all as clean as a Puritanparlor.

  "Captain," said he, "tie yourself to that big bow gun. It's themodern sling of David, only its pebble is big as a rock. Learn howto handle it, and you may take a fling at the British some day."

  He put D'ri in my squad, as I requested, leaving me with thegunners. I went to work at once, and knew shortly how to handlethe big machine. D'ri and I convinced the captain with nodifficulty that we were fit for a fight so soon as it might come.

  It came sooner than we expected. The cry of "Sail ho!" woke meearly one morning. It was the 10th of September. The enemy wascoming. Sails were sticking out of the misty dawn a few milesaway. In a moment our decks were black and noisy with the hundredand two that manned the vessel. It was every hand to rope andwindlass then. Sails went up with a snap all around us, and thecreak of blocks sounded far and near. In twelve minutes we wereunder way, leading the van to battle. The sun came up, lightingthe great towers of canvas. Every vessel was now feeling for thewind, some with oars and sweeps to aid them. A light breeze cameout of the southwest. Perry stood near me, his hat in his hand.He was looking back at the Niagara.

  "Run to the leeward of the islands," said he to the sailing-master.

  "Then you 'll have to fight to the leeward," said the latter.

  "Don't care, so long as we fight," said Perry. "Windward orleeward, we want to fight."

  Then came the signal to change our course. The wind shifting tothe southeast, we were all able to clear the islands and keep theweather-gage. A cloud came over the sun; far away the mistthickened. The enemy wallowed to the topsails, and went out ofsight. We had lost the wind. Our sails went limp; flag andpennant hung lifeless. A light rain drizzled down, breaking thesmooth plane of water into crowding rings and bubbles. Perry stoodout in the drizzle as we lay waiting. All eyes were turning to thesky and to Perry. He had a look of worry and disgust. He was outfor a quarrel, though the surgeon said he was in more need ofphysic, having the fever of malaria as well as that of war. Hestood there, tall and handsome, in a loose jacket of blue nankeen,with no sign of weakness in him, his eyes flashing as he looked upat the sky.

  D'ri and I stood in the squad at the bow gun. D'ri was wearing anold straw hat; his flannel shirt was open at the collar.

  "Ship stan's luk an ol' cow chawin' 'er cud," said he, looking offat the weather. "They's a win' comin' over there. It 'll give 'era slap 'n th' side purty soon, mebbe. Then she 'll switch 'er tail'n' go on 'bout 'er business."

  In a moment we heard a roaring cheer back amidships. Perry hadcome up the companionway with his blue battle-flag. He held itbefore him at arm's-length. I could see a part of its legend, inwhite letters, "Don't give up the ship."

  "My brave lads," he shouted, "shall we hoist it?"

  Our "Ay, ay, sir!" could have been heard a mile away, and the flagrose, above tossing hats and howling voices, to the mainroyalmasthead.

  The wind came; we could hear the sails snap and stiffen as itoverhauled the fleet behind us. In a jiffy it bunted our own hulland canvas, and again we began to plough the water. It grew into asmart breeze, and scattered the fleet of clouds that hovered overus. The rain passed; sunlight sparkled on the rippling plane ofwater. We could now see the enemy; he had hove to, and was waitingfor us in a line. A crowd was gathering on the high shores we hadleft to see the battle. We were well in advance, crowding ourcanvas in a good breeze. I could hear only the roaring furrows ofwater on each side of the prow. Every man of us held his tongue,mentally trimming ship, as they say, for whatever might come.Three men scuffed by, sanding the decks. D'ri was leaning placidlyover the big gun. He looked off at the white line, squintedknowingly, and spat over the bulwarks. Then he straightened up,tilting his hat to his right ear.

  "They 're p'intin' their guns," said a swabber.

  "Fust they know they'll git spit on," said D'ri, calmly.

  Well, for two hours it was all creeping and talking under thebreath, and here and there an oath as some nervous chap tightenedthe ropes of his resolution. Then suddenly, as we swung about, amurmur went up and down the deck. We could see with our naked eyesthe men who were to give us battle. Perry shouted sternly to somegunners who thought it high time to fire. Then word came: therewould be no firing until we got close. Little gusts of music camechasing over the water faint-footed to our decks--a band playing"Rule Britannia." I was looking at a brig in the line of the enemywhen a bolt of fire leaped out of her and thick belches of smokerushed to her topsails. Then something hit the sea near by a greathissing slap, and we turned quickly to see chunks of the shatteredlake surface fly up in nets of spray and fall roaring on our deck.We were all drenched there at the bow gun. I remember some ofthose water-drops had the sting of hard-flung pebbles, but we onlybent our heads, waiting eagerly for the word to fire.

  "We was th' ones 'at got spit on," said a gunner, looking at D'ri.

  "Wish they'd let us holler back," said the latter, placidly. "Sicko' holdin' in."

  We kept fanning down upon the enemy, now little more than a mileaway, signalling the fleet to follow.

  "My God! see there!" a gunner shouted.

  The British line had turned into a reeling, whirling ridge of
smokelifting over spurts of flame at the bottom. We knew what wascoming. Untried in the perils of shot and shell, some of mygunners stooped to cover under the bulwarks.

  "Pull 'em out o' there," I called, turning to D'ri, who stoodbeside me.

  The storm of iron hit us. A heavy ball crashed into the afterbulwarks, tearing them away and slamming over gun and carriage,that slid a space, grinding the gunners under it. One end of abowline whipped over us; a jib dropped; a brace fell crawling overmy shoulders like a big snake; the foremast went into splinters afew feet above the deck, its top falling over, its canvas saggingin great folds. It was all the work of a second. That hastyflight of iron, coming out of the air, thick as a flock of pigeons,had gone through hull and rigging in a wink of the eye. And a finemess it had made.

  Men lay scattered along the deck, bleeding, yelling, struggling.There were two lying near us with blood spurting out of theirnecks. One rose upon a knee, choking horribly, shaken with thelast throes of his flooded heart, and reeled over. The _Scorpion_of our fleet had got her guns in action; the little _Ariel_ wasalso firing. D'ri leaned over, shouting in my ear.

  "Don't like th' way they 're whalin' uv us," he said, his cheeksred with anger.

  "Nor I," was my answer.

  "Don't like t' stan' here an' dew nuthin' but git licked," he wenton. "'T ain' no way nat'ral."

  Perry came hurrying forward.

  "Fire!" he commanded, with a quick gesture, and we began to warm upour big twenty-pounder there in the bow. But the deadly scuds ofiron kept flying over and upon our deck, bursting into awfulshowers of bolt and chain and spike and hammerheads. We sawshortly that our brig was badly out of gear. She began to drift toleeward, and being unable to aim at the enemy, we could make no useof the bow gun. Every brace and bowline cut away, her canvas tornto rags, her hull shot through, and half her men dead or wounded,she was, indeed, a sorry sight. The _Niagara_ went by on the safeside of us, heedless of our plight. Perry stood near, cursing ashe looked off at her. Two of my gunners had been hurt by burstingcanister. D'ri and I picked them up, and made for the cockpit.D'ri's man kept howling and kicking. As we hurried over the bloodydeck, there came a mighty crash beside us and a burst of old ironthat tumbled me to my knees.

  A cloud of smoke covered us. I felt the man I bore struggle andthen go limp in my arms; I felt my knees getting warm and wet. Thesmoke rose; the tall, herculean back of D'ri was just ahead of me.His sleeve had been ripped away from shoulder to elbow, and a sprayof blood from his upper arm was flying back upon me. His hat crownhad been torn off, and there was a big rent in his trousers, but hekept going, I saw my man had been killed in my arms by a piece ofchain, buried to its last link in his breast. I was so confused bythe shock of it all that I had not the sense to lay him down, butfollowed D'ri to the cockpit. He stumbled on the stairs, fallingheavily with his burden. Then I dropped my poor gunner and helpedthem carry D'ri to a table, where they bade me lie down beside him.

  "It is no time for jesting," said I, with some dignity.

  "My dear fellow," the surgeon answered, "your wound is no jest.You are not fit for duty."

  I looked down at the big hole in my trousers and the cut in mythigh, of which I had known nothing until then. I had no soonerseen it and the blood than I saw that I also was in some need ofrepair, and lay down with a quick sense of faintness. My wound wasno pretty thing to see, but was of little consequence, a missilehaving torn the surface only. I was able to help Surgeon Usher ashe caught the severed veins and bathed the bloody strands of musclein D'ri's arm, while another dressed my thigh. That room was fullof the wounded, some lying on the floor, some standing, somestretched upon cots and tables. Every moment they were crowdingdown the companionway with others. The cannonading was now soclose and heavy that it gave me an ache in the ears, but above itsquaking thunder I could hear the shrill cries of men sinking tohasty death in the grip of pain. The brig was in sore distress,her timbers creaking, snapping, quivering, like one being beaten todeath, his bones cracking, his muscles pulping under heavy blows.We were above water-line there in the cockpit; we could feel herflinch and stagger. On her side there came suddenly a crushingblow, as if some great hammer, swung far in the sky, had come downupon her. I could hear the split and break of heavy timbers; Icould see splinters flying over me in a rush of smoke, and the legsof a man go bumping on the beams above. Then came another crash oftimbers on the port side. I leaped off the table and ran, limping,to the deck, I do not know why; I was driven by some quick andirresistible impulse. I was near out of my head, anyway, with therage of battle in me and no chance to fight. Well, suddenly, Ifound myself stumbling, with drawn sabre, over heaps of the hurtand dead there on our reeking deck. It was a horrible place:everything tipped over, man and gun and mast and bulwark. The airwas full of smoke, but near me I could see a topsail of the enemy.Balls were now plunging in the water alongside, the spray drenchingour deck. Some poor man lying low among the dead caught me by theboot-leg with an appealing gesture. I took hold of his collar,dragging him to the cockpit. The surgeon had just finished withD'ri. His arm was now in sling and bandages. He was lying on hisback, the good arm over his face. There was a lull in thecannonading. I went quickly to his side.

  "How are you feeling?" I asked, giving his hand a good grip.

  "Nuthin' t' brag uv," he answered. "Never see nobody git hell rosewith 'em s' quick es we did--never."

  Just then we heard the voice of Perry. He stood on the stairscalling into the cockpit.

  "Can any wounded man below there pull a rope?" he shouted.

  D'ri was on his feet in a jiffy, and we were both clambering to thedeck as another scud of junk went over us. Perry was trying, withblock and tackle, to mount a carronade. A handful of men werehelping him, D'ri rushed to the ropes, I following, and we bothpulled with a will. A sailor who had been hit in the legs hobbledup, asking for room on the rope. I told him he could be of no use,but he spat an oath, and pointing at my leg, which was nowbleeding, swore he was sounder than I, and put up his fists toprove it. I have seen no better show of pluck in all my fighting,nor any that ever gave me a greater pride of my own people and mycountry. War is a great evil, I begin to think, but there isnothing finer than the sight of a man who, forgetting himself,rushes into the shadow of death for the sake of something that isbetter. At every heave on the rope our blood came out of us, untila ball shattered a pulley, and the gun fell. Perry had then afierce look, but his words were cool, his manner dauntless. Hepeered through lifting clouds of smoke at our line. He stood nearme, and his head was bare. He crossed the littered deck, hisbattle-flag and broad pennant that an orderly had brought himtrailing from his shoulder. He halted by a boat swung at thedavits on the port side--the only one that had not gone tosplinters. There he called a crew about him, and all got quicklyaboard the boat--seven besides the younger brother of Captain Perry--and lowered it. Word flew that he was leaving to take command ofthe sister brig, the _Niagara_, which lay off a quarter of a mileor so from where we stood. We all wished to go, but he would haveonly sound men; there were not a dozen on the ship who had alltheir blood in them. As they pulled away, Perry standing in thestern, D'ri lifted a bloody, tattered flag, and leaning from thebulwarks, shook it over them, cheering loudly.

  "Give 'em hell!" he shouted. "We 'll tek care o' the ol' brig."

  "D'ri, shaking a bloody, tattered flag, shouted, 'We'll tek care o' the ol' brig.'"]

  We were all crying, we poor devils that were left behind. One, amere boy, stood near me swinging his hat above his head, cheering.Hat and hand fell to the deck as I turned to him. He was reeling,when D'ri caught him quickly with his good arm and bore him to thecockpit.

  The little boat was barely a length off when heavy shot fellsplashing in her wake. Soon they were dropping all around her.One crossed her bow, ripping a long furrow in the sea. A chip flewoff her stern; a lift of splinters from an oar scattered behindher. Plunging missiles marked her co
urse with a plait of foam, butshe rode on bravely. We saw her groping under the smoke clouds; wesaw her nearing the other brig, and were all on tiptoe. The aircleared a little, and we could see them ship oars and go up theside. Then we set our blood dripping with cheers again, we whowere wounded there on the deck of the _Lawrence_. LieutenantYarnell ordered her one flag down. As it sank fluttering, wegroaned. Our dismay went quickly from man to man. Presently wecould hear the cries of the wounded there below. A man camestaggering out of the cockpit, and fell to his hands and knees,creeping toward us and protesting fiercely, the blood dripping fromhis mouth between curses.

  "Another shot would sink her," Yarnell shouted.

  "Let 'er sink, d--n 'er," said D'ri. "Wish t' God I c'u'd put myfoot through 'er bottom. When the flag goes down I wan't' go tew."

  The British turned their guns; we were no longer in the smoky pathsof thundering canister. The _Niagara_ was now under fire. Wecould see the dogs of war rushing at her in leashes of flame andsmoke. Our little gun-boats, urged by oar and sweep, werehastening to the battle front. We could see their men, waist-highabove bulwarks, firing as they came. The _Detroit_ and the _QueenCharlotte_, two heavy brigs of the British line, had run afoul ofeach other. The _Niagara_, signalling for close action, bore downupon them. Crossing the bow of one ship and the stern of theother, she raked them with broadsides. We saw braces fly and mastsfall in the volley. The _Niagara_ sheered off, pouring shoals ofmetal on a British schooner, stripping her bare. Our little boatshad come up, and were boring into the brigs. In a brief time--itwas then near three o'clock--a white flag, at the end of aboarding-pike, fluttered over a British deck. D'ri, who had beensitting awhile, was now up and cheering as he waved his crownlesshat. He had lent his flag, and, in the flurry, some one dropped itoverboard. D'ri saw it fall, and before we could stop him he hadleaped into the sea. I hastened to his help, tossing a rope's endas he came up, swimming with one arm, the flag in his teeth. Itowed him to the landing-stair and helped him over. Leaning on myshoulder, he shook out the tattered flag, its white laced with hisown blood.

  "Ready t' jump in hell fer thet ol' rag any day," said he, as weall cheered him.

  Each grabbed a tatter of the good flag, pressing hard upon D'ri,and put it to his lips and kissed it proudly. Then we marched upand down, D'ri waving it above us--a bloody squad as ever walked,shouting loudly. D'ri had begun to weaken with loss of blood, so Icoaxed him to go below with me.

  The battle was over; a Yankee band was playing near by.

  "Perry is coming! Perry is coming!" we heard them shouting above.

  A feeble cry that had in it pride and joy and inextinguishabledevotion passed many a fevered lip in the cockpit.

  There were those near who had won a better peace, and they lay as aman that listens to what were now the merest vanity.

  Perry came, when the sun was low, with a number of Britishofficers, and received their surrender on his own bloody deck. Iremember, as they stood by the ruined bulwarks and looked down upontokens of wreck and slaughter, a dog began howling dismally in thecockpit.