32. CHAPTER XXXII.
THE EMANCIPATION.
The darkest hour of sorrow's night
Precedes the rosy dawn of light.
Anon.
In reading his father's letter, traversing the
deck, and gazing wishfully at the American shore,
our impatient hero lashed on the tardy hours.
The shades of evening at length began to descend
upon Niagara's dusky wave, and the eastern
landscapes, browned by the breath of autumn,
became gradually shrouded with a mantle
of gloom. Still he lingered, to watch the distant
lights, which, to his view, shone like the stars of
Liberty, glittering from her favored shore, and
marking the happy abodes of freemen.
The tattoo's drowsy clamor aroused him from
his reverie, and, with a deep sigh, he left his position,
and directed his gaze to the westward.
The moon was visible—a rayless crescent, slowly
descending to the horizon—and but a few stars
peeped through the scattered fragments of autumnal
clouds. The wind sighed sadly through
the rigging, while the rippling of the current
against the vessel's prow, produced a melancholy
response. It was not now a scene to cheer the
drooping spirits of a captive soldier, and he left
it to seek relief among the gay spirits assembled
in the officers' ward-room; but found none, until
he retired to his own birth, when he was visited
by the drowsy god of slumber, who “sat on his
eye-lids” until three hours past the “noon of
night.”
From a sweet dream of happiness, our hero
was suddenly awakened by an unusual noise
above him; in the next instant, the clash of arms
and report of pistols roused every slumberer from
his hammock, and the English sailors flew upon
deck, where tumult and confusion appeared to
reign for several minutes. Again all was still,
and, in a moment after, the American prisoners
were summoned, and informed that the vessel had
changed masters; and that, if agreeable, the Englishmen
would exchange situations with them,
and occupy their births below. The sensations
produced by this intelligence can be better conceived
than described. In ten minutes from the
first alarm, their former guards were all secured
as prisoners, and the vessel under weigh. The
Caledonia was also under sail, having suffered a
simultaneous surprise.
An attempt was first made by the captors, in
both vessels, to stem the course of the river, and
enter lake Erie; but that was soon found to be impracticable,
owing to the rapidity of the current,
and the lightness of the wind; orders were therefore
given to alter their course, and run down the
river.
The morning now began to dawn, and the vessels
were opposite the British batteries, in a river
not a mile in width. They were obliged to pass
these forts under a dreadful fire of round, grape,
and canister, which was poured into them from
heavy ordnance and light artillery. The Caledonia
was fortunate enough to gain in safety the
American shore, and anchored under one of the
American batteries at Black Rock, effectually covered
from the fire of the enemy; while the Detroit
was compelled to cast anchor within four
hundred yards of two batteries that were incessantly
venting their blazing fury upon her. The
commander of the Detroit hailed an officer of the
flying artillery on shore, assuring him that if another
gun was fired on the brig, he would bring
the prisoners on deck, and expose them to the
same fate that awaited the rest. This threat was,
however, disregarded, and a destructive fire continued
to assail them.
The eyes of George were now, for the first
time, directed to the young hero of this daring
enterprise, but sought in vain to trace in his manly
visage a disposition to put so barbarous a
threat in execution. He looked again, and knew
the countenance; it was the youth whose nuptials
he had so unexpectedly attended, seven
months before, in Virginia—it was the gallant
Elliott. This was not a moment, however, for
George to discover himself.
All the guns had been brought on that side of
the vessel which was next to the enemy, and the
brave fellows stationed at them returned the fire
of their enemies with interest, as long as their
ammunition lasted. An attempt was then made
to send a line to the American shore, by which
the vessel might be drawn in; but not a breath
of wind was stirring, and the current ran so rapidly
that the boat could not reach the shore. Attempts,
equally fruitless, were also made to send
lines on board from the river bank.
Almost every shot from the enemy took effect
on this unfortunate vessel; her severed rigging
dangled in strings, her canvas hung in ribbons,
and every part of her hull that appeared above
water, was disfigured with wounds.
Elliott now ordered the cable to be cut, with
an intention of drifting down the stream beyond
the reach of the hostile batteries, and there making
a stand against the flying artillery. A few
light airs played over the river, and every piece
of canvas not rendered entirely useless, was displayed
to catch them. After drifting a few minutes,
gradually nearing the eastern bank of the
river, she struck on a sand-bar at the head of
Squaw Island, and there grounded, still exposed
to the British fire.
Finding it impossible to get her off, Elliott reluctantly
abandoned her; having previously sent
ashore the prisoners. An active scene now ensued;
the deserted vessel was immediately boarded
by above forty English soldiers, who were
nearly every one destroyed by a brisk fire now
opened upon the brig from the American artillery,
commanded by lieutenant-colonel Scott.
Thus this contested prize lay between two hostile
forts, exposed to the fire of both, and was
soon unable to float; she was therefore set on fire
by the Americans, and burnt to the water's edge.
During this contest, the American army lost a
very valuable officer, who was killed by a grape-shot
from across the river, as he was approaching
the beach on horseback. This was major
Cuyler, aid to general Hall, a gentleman universally
esteemed, and deservedly so; for he possessed
that warmth of feeling which is the brightest
ornament of valor; that spirit of liberality
and frankness which is a virtue in every breast,
but pre-eminently so in the bosom of a soldier.
It was not until evening that George ventured
to seek an interview with his brave friend and deliverer;
and the pleasure resulting from it was a
rich compensation for all his recent misfortunes.
At his earnest request, Elliott related to him
those particulars relative to his unexpected emancipation
from captivity, with which he was as yet
necessarily unacquainted.
“The command of lake Erie,” said he, “has
been entrusted to me, for the present, with instructions
to create and equip a squadron, as soon
as possible, able to meet the whole naval force of
the enemy. In pursuance of my orders, I have
already purchased some vessels in the river for
the use of government, but find myself much embarrassed
with the difficulty of getting them up
the Niagara into the lake. When the Detroit
and Caledonia anchored yesterday under fort
Erie, I instantly formed the resolution of boarding,
and, if possible, obtaining possession of two
such fine vessels; for though my instructions only
extend to building and purchasing, I still conceive
that capturing is by far the most expeditious and
economical method of constructing a navy.
“A body of brave tars were on their way to
this place from New-York, destined for the lake
service, and I heard that they were but a short
distance off; I therefore dispatched an express
to the officers, desiring them to use all possible
expedition in getting on their men, as I had important
service to perform. On their arrival,
which was about twelve o'clock yesterday, I discovered
that they were not furnished with either
cutlasses or battleaxes, and had only about twenty
pistols among them all. But on application
to generals Smyth and Hall, of the regulars and
militia, I was supplied with a few arms; and general
Smyth was so good, on my request, as immediately
to detach fifty men from the regulars,
armed with muskets.
“By four o'clock in the afternoon, I had my
men selected, and stationed in two boats, which I
had previously prepared for the purpose. With
these boats, fifty men in each, and under circumstances
very disadvantageous, the men having
scarcely had time to refresh themselves after a
fatiguing march of five hundred miles, we put off
from the mouth of Buffalo creek, at one o'clock
this morning, and at three were alongside the
vessels. In the space of about ten minutes, we
had the prisoners all secured, the topsails sheeted
home, and the vessels under way. Unfortunately
the wind was not sufficiently strong to get
us up against a rapid current into the lake, where
I had understood another armed vessel lay at anchor,
and we were therefore obliged to run down
the river by the forts.
“In boarding the Detroit, one of my men was
killed, and acting midshipman Cummins received
a bayonet through his leg. For a few minutes, I
was assailed by three powerful Englishmen,
whom I kept at bay with my cutlass alone. The
boat which boarded the other vessel was commanded
by sailing-master Watts, who performed
his duty in a masterly style. During the whole
affair, only six Americans have been injured, one
of whom is dead, and four others, I fear, are mortally
wounded; an almost miraculous escape,
considering our exposed situation.”
