Crowbars and Swivel Guns: a Sailor's Description of the Battle of Lake Erie

 

The original "Don't Give Up The Ship" battle flag. The flag as displayed today has white letters sewn onto a brown fabric, but most accounts agree that the fabric was originally blue. 

September 10 marks the anniversary of the Battle of Lake Erie. It was the first time an American naval squadron met a British squadron in a pitched battle, and also the turning point in the struggle for control of the northwestern theater of the War of 1812. Although it was not the last naval engagement on the Great Lakes, or indeed Lake Erie, it was the last pitched battle between warships on the lakes above Niagara. 

The Brig Lawrence, Commodore Olive Hazard Perry's flagship, took the brunt of the firepower of the British ships for most of the battle, as the brigs Caledonia and Niagara failed to close the range and support her. Eventually, after even the walking wounded and surgeon's assistants had been asked to come on deck and serve the last gun were themselves unable to fight the ship, Perry and and handful of remaining able bodied men manned a boat that he rowed back to the Niagara (a lot has been made of Perry moving from ship to ship in a boat, but in fact it wasn't unusual for ship's boats to move between vessels in a fleet when in combat. Perry sent his second in command, Jesse Elliott, off in the same boat to bring up the other small vessels in the squadron.) 

David C. Bunnell was one of the last unwounded sailors in the Lawrence, and therefore helped man the boat and transferred to the Niagara during the height of the battle, and manned a gun on that brig. I've heard a story about a "smaller cannon" being loaded into a larger one and fired at the British during the battle--it is therefore interesting to find that Bunnell's memoir is the source of this anecdote. It is very plausible, because with smooth-bore muzzleloading cannon anything that will fit down the muzzle can serve as a makeshift projectile. In this case, the "small cannon" was a 2-pounder bronze swivel gun, a type of weapon typically mounted on a rail or up in the fighting top and crammed with small grapeshot or scrap iron for antipersonnel work. It was found after the battle aboard the British flagship Detroit.

Ironically, once Perry and his Don't Give Up The Ship flag transferred to the Niagara, the survivors in the Lawrence struck their colors to surrender; but the British never had the chance to take possession of her, before the intact Niagara was in among them with a double broadside.

From the memoirs of David C. Bunnell, 1831:

Commodore Perry ordered his flag to be hoisted. We knew this flag was on board, but none of us knew what the motto was, until it was unfurled to the breeze--when we discovered the dying words of the brave Lawrence--"DON'T GIVE UP THE SHIP!"

This flag was eighteen feet long and nine broad--painted blue--the letters on it very large and white. When it was unfurled, the whole squadron gave three cheers. Every soul seemed animated by one feeling. 

All were busy in getting every thing in the best possible order for the battle--the shot were got up from below--the guns well loaded and primed--and all was in complete readiness.--The drums beat to quarters, and every man repaired to his station. The words "Silence--stand to your quarters!" were given, and the signal to form a line. The wind was light, and our line was soon formed, when we bore down upon the enemy in perfect order...

There being only a light wind, we neared the enemy very slowly, which gave us a little time for reflection. Such a scene as this, creates in one's mind feelings not easily described. The word "silence" was again given--we stood in awful impatience--not a word was spoken--not a sound heard, except now and then an order to trim a sail, and the boatswain's shrill whistle. It seemed like the awful silence that precedes an earthquake. This was a time to try the stoutest heart. My pulse beat quick--all nature seemed wrapped in awful suspense--the dart of death hung as it were trembling by a single hair, and no one knew on whose head it would fall. At length there was a gun fired from the Detroit, and the action commenced. A gentle zephyr had wafted us near the enemy, and then died away--and it seemed as if old Boreas had suspended all his operations to view the fight. Our all was at stake. America had never before had an opportunity since she became a nation, of meeting squadron to squadron.

No sooner had the first gun been fired from the Detroit, than they opened a tremendous fire from their whole line, of round, grape and canister shot. The Scorpion, Tigress and Ariel, having long guns, returned their fire with considerable effect. Our vessel (the Lawrence) carried 20 guns--ten on each side-- eighteen 32 pound carronades, and two long nines. My comrades fell on all sides of me.--One man who stood next to me, was most shockingly wounded--having both of his legs shot off, and a number of the spikes from the bulwark drove into his body. He was carried below, and survived until he heard victory proclaimed--he then exclaimed, "I die in peace," and immediately expired.

The whole of the enemy's line kept up an incessant fire, and our impatience became almost insupportable, but our ever watchful Commodore knew what was best to be done, and ordered the long gun to be manned, and fired; it was done in an instant, and the shot reached the enemy.--We kept up a fire with it for a few minutes, when an order from our commander put every man in motion--"Stand by"-- a second intervened-- "Fire." I do not think there was more than a second's variation in the whole broad side--every gun seemed to speak at once.

I shall not attempt to give a perfect detail of every trivial transaction that took place after we began to fire; that would be supererogation. I paid particular attention to the gun which I had charge of, and loaded and fired as fast as possible, and at one time in a great hurry, shoved in a crowbar, and I found after the action was over that it did its duty on board the Detroit, by cutting away three shrouds of her main rigging.

At last my gun got so warm that it jumped entirely out of its carriage, which rendered it useless. Five of my men out of eight were either killed or wounded. I went to the next gun and found there but one man left, but by the assistance of my three she was soon made to play again. I could now only hear an occasional gun fired from our vessel. I looked up to see if our flag was still flying, and with pleasure beheld, partly obscured by smoke, the star spangled banner yet waving, and head Perry exclaim, "Man the boat."

I looked along the deck, and such a sight at any other time would have made me shudder, but now in the height of action, I only thought to say to myself, "poor souls!" The deck was in a shocking predicament. Death had been very busy. It was one continued gore of blood and carnage--the dead and dying were strewed in every direction over it--for it was impossible to take the wounded below as fast as they fell.

There were four embarked in the small boat with Perry, and six remained on board the Lawrence. These ten were all that remained unhurt out of upwards of one hundred. There was one brave fellow by the name of Bird, who was mortally wounded, but refused to leave the deck as long as he could be of the least service.*

On board the Niagara, to which vessel Perry went in the height of the battle, and through an incessant fire from the enemy, there was at this time but one killed and three wounded. Perry made the signal to close with the enemy--we made sail for that purpose, and were soon in close contact with the British, adn the action was renewed with great vigor. The only words I recollect of hearing Perry say were-- "Take good aim my boys, don't waste your shot."

The smoke was so dense that it was impossible to see the enemy--but we were so close to them, that by firing on a level we could not miss--their vessel being so much higher out of water than ours. The Lawrence stuck her colors for a little time, and then hoisted them.

I stooped down to get a shot, and accidentally put my hand on a small brass swivel, (it was nine inches long and would carry about a two pound ball;) it struck me in an instant that it would be a handsome present for "John Bull"--so I rammed it into my gun and let it go--it was found after the action on board the Detroit...

The action raged with great fury on both sides for some time, when Perry, finding that our ammunition began to grow short, resolved to make one finishing blow. He ran down with the intention of boarding, but the Queen Charlotte had run afoul of the Detroit, which rendered her useless, as she could not fire at us without killing her own men--while our shot took effect in both of them. Our flag was once shot away, which produced three cheers from the enemy--but they were sadly mistaken--it was soon hoisted again. In short, after a bloody and well contested conflict of three hours and forty eight minutes, the undaunted Union of Great Britain came down.

The Sloop Little Belt attempted to make sail and steer for Malden-- the Scorpion gave her chase, and, fired a "long tom" at her: the first shot struck close to her stern--the next entered her starboard quarter, and went out at her larboard bow, and she surrendered. This made the victory complete. Not a soul escaped.

Some notes (separated in the original text in brackets) Bunnell made about the combat:

During the action a shot struck a man in the head, who was standing close by me; his brains flew so thick in my face, that I was for some time blinded, and for a few moments was at a loss to ascertain whether it was him or me that was killed.--We had peas boiling for dinner--our place for cooking was on deck, and during the action a shot had penetrated the boiler, and the peas were rolling all over the deck,--we had several pigs loose on deck, and I actually saw one of them eating peas that had both his hind legs shot off-- and a little dog belonging to one of the officers, that was wounded, ran from one end of the vessel to the other, howling in the most dreadful manner.** --A hardy old tar who acted in the station of "Stopperman," (when any of the rigging is partly shot away, they put a stopper on the place, to prevent it from going away entirely,) discovering our main stay partly shot away, jumped and began to put a stopper on, and while in the act, another shot cut the stay away below him, which let him swing with great force against the mast-- He very gravely observed,--"Damn you, if you must have it, take it."--A shot from the enemy struck one of our guns, within a quarter of an inch of the calibre; little pieces of metal few in every direction, and wounded almost every man at piece. One man was filled full of little pieces of cast iron, from his knees to his chin, some not bigger than the head of a pin, and none larger than a buck shot; he, however recovered.

*James Bird was a Marine corporal who was wounded, but survived the battle. Despite his distinguished service during the Battle of Lake Erie, he deserted in 1814, was captured, and was executed by firing squad on the quarterdeck of the Niagara, along with a private who had deserted with him. A sailor who had deserted five times was hung from the yardarm "at the same moment." (Diary of Usher Parsons, November 11, 1814).