written at the request of Washington, and published in 1809, is the name of Oliver H. Perry.
On the 12th of October, 1810, Midshipman M. C. Perry was ordered from the Revenge (which was wrecked off Watch Hill, R. I., January 8, 1811) to the frigate President. This brought him on the flag-ship, the finest of the heavy frigates of 1797, and directly under the eye of Commodore Rodgers. On the 16th of October she went on a short cruise of ten days and returned to her port for the winter, where Raymond Perry joined him. News of the whereabouts of the British ships Shannon and Guerriere was regularly received, and the crew kept alert and ready for work with the press-gang. This was the beginning of three years service by the two Perry brothers on this famous ship.
From March 19, 1811, until July 25, 1813, Matthew kept a diary in which he made observations relating chiefly to the weather and matters of technical interest, with occasional items of historical value. The boyish ambition for ample proportions in the book is offset by the accuracy studied in the entries, and the excessive modesty of all statements relating to himself, even to his wound received by the bursting of a gun. It contains frequent reference to personages whose congenial home was the quarter-deck, the lustre of whose names still glitters in history like the fresh sand which they sprinkled on their letters—now entombed in the naval archives at Washington.
From the first, the bluff disciplinarian, Commodore Rodgers, took a kindly interest in his midshipman. He was especially exacting of his juniors whom he liked, or in whom he saw promise. His dignity, discipline and spirit, were models constantly imitated by his pupils.
One day, while on duty on that part of the deck which roofed the commodore’s cabin, Matthew Perry paced up and down his beat with, what seemed to the occupant below, an unnecessarily noisy stride. Irate at being disturbed while writing, the commodore rushed out on deck, demanded the spy glass and bade Perry to put himself in his superior’s place in the cabin, and sit there to learn how the iniquity of his heels sounded. Then with ponderous tread, exaggerated stride, and mock dignity, the commodore of the whole fleet gave a dramatic object-lesson. It profited the lad no less than it amused the spectators.
Soon after this, Perry was made commodore’s aide.
The diary shows that constant exercise at the “great guns and small arms” was practiced. Rodgers knew that his men were to meet the heroes of Trafalgar, and he believed that American gunnery would quickly settle questions over which diplomacy had become impotent.
The President, leaving New London for New York, set sail April 22 for Annapolis, casting anchor opposite Fort Severn, May 2. Here the vessel lay for ten days. As everything was quiet along the coast, Commodore Rodgers went to his home at Havre de Grace, seventy miles distant, to visit his family. The purser and chaplain took a trip to Washington, and on board all was as quiet as a city church aisle in summer.
Late at night, May 6, there came dispatches from the Navy Department. Two men had been taken from the merchant brig, Spitfire, within eighteen miles of New York. One of the young men impressed, John Deguys, was known to the captain to be a native of Maine. The Guerriere, Captain Dacres, was, as usual, suspected.
The news created great excitement, for the constant search of American ships and the impressment of such men, as the arrogant English captains chose to call British “subjects,” had roused our sailors’ ire. They burned to change this disgraceful state of things and to avenge the Chesapeake affair. The officers of the Guerriere, painting the name of their frigate on her topsails, in large white letters, had been conspicuous for their bravado in insulting American merchant captains.
This was the age of British boasting on the sea, of huge canvas and enormous flags. For during nigh two score years, the British sailors, “lords of the main,” had ruled the waves, rarely losing a ship, and never a squadron, in their numerous battles. Uninterrupted success had bred many bullies. The trade of New York had been injured by these annoying searches and delays. The orders to Commodore Rodgers were to proceed at once to stop the outrageous proceedings. The vexed question of impressment had, since 1790, caused an incredible amount of negotiation. It was now to pass out of the hands of secretaries into the control of our naval captains, with power to solve the problem.
To get the dispatches to the commodore was the duty in hand. Neither steamer nor telegraph could then help to perform it; but hearts and hands were true, and Matthew Perry was ready to show the stuff of which he was made. Captain Ludlow at once entrusted the delicate matter to the commodore’s aide.
Matthew Perry set out before daylight in the commodore’s gig. The pull of seventy miles was made against a head wind. Taking his seat at the helm, he cheered on his men, but it was a long and hard day’s work. It was nearly dark when the lights of the village danced in the distance. At this moment one of the men dropped his oar, and sank back with the blood gushing from his mouth and nostrils. In his over-strain he had burst a blood vessel.
Rodgers at once took the boat, and with the wind in his favor hoisted sail. At 3 p. m., May 7, as Captain Ludlow was dining on the sloop Argus, near the President, the gig was descried five miles distant bearing the broad pennant. Perry, in his journal, modestly omits, as is customary with him, all reference to this exploit of bringing back the commodore. But under the entry of May 10, he writes: “At 10 hoisted out the launch, carried out a kedge and warped the ship out of the roads.”
The President put to sea with her name boldly blazoned on her three topsails like the Guerriere’s. All on board were ready and eager for an opportunity to wipe out this last disgrace. Perry writes, on the 13th: “At 3 spoke the brig … from Trinidad—informed us that the day before she was boarded by an English sloop-of-war.” “At 7 the Argus hove to alongside of us. Captain Lawrence came on board—at 8 Captain L. left the ship.” Next day “at 3 exercised great guns”; “at half-past 8 passed New Point Comfort. At 10 opened the magazine and took out thirty-two twenty-four pound and twenty-four forty-two pound cartridges.”
At 1 o’clock in the afternoon of the 17th, a strange sail was noticed—the ensign and pennant were raised, the ship was cleared for action and the crew beat to quarters. The signals of the strange ship were not answered. The two ships were at this time but a few leagues south of Sandy Hook.
The stranger ship was none other than the British sloop-of-war Little Belt, carrying twenty-two guns. As what took place really precipitated the war of 1812, we give the record from Perry’s diary without alteration.
“At 7 p. m. the chase took in her studding-sails, distant about eight miles. At ten or twelve minutes past 7 she rounded to on the starboard-tack. At half-past 7 shortened sail. At half-past 8 rounded to on her weather beam, within half a cable’s length of her; hailed and asked ‘what ship is that’? to which she replied, ‘what ship is that’? and on the commodore’s asking the second time ‘what ship is that’? received a shot from her which was immediately returned from our gun-deck, but was scarcely fired before she fired three other guns accompanied with musquetry. We then commenced a general fire which lasted about fifteen minutes, when the order was given to cease firing, our adversary being silent and apparently in much distress. At 9 hauled on a wind on the starboard-tack, the strange ship having dropped astern so far that the commodore did not choose to follow, supposing that he had sufficiently chastised her for her insolence in firing into an American frigate. Kept our battle-lanthorns burning. After having examined the damage, found that the ship had her foremast and mainmast wounded and some rigging shot away—one boy only wounded—before daylight the masts were fished, moulded and painted, and everything taut.
“At 5 a. m. discovered the strange sail and bore down for her. At 8 came alongside and sent a boat aboard her. She was lying in a very shattered situation; no sail bent except her maintopsail; her rigging all shot away; three or four shots through her masts; several between wind and water; her gaft shot away, etc. At 9 the boat returned; she proved to be the
