Another cause for astonishment to the English was the rapidity with which the Americans worked their guns, and the great disparity between the American and British killed and wounded. In the fight between the Constitution and Guerriere, the Americans had seven killed and seven wounded; the British, over eighty killed and wounded. In the capture of the Macedonian, Decatur lost five men, and had seven wounded; the British, over one hundred killed and wounded. In each battle the same great odds prevailed. The British had seen the wonderful shooting of the western riflemen in the Revolutionary War, those daring fellows in buckskin shirts and leggings, who could hit the middle of the target at the longest distance every time they fired their guns. They declared now, that companies of these riflemen were stationed on the American ships to pick off the English crew, since no ship's guns could fire with such aim. It was fully proved in these battles that the Americans were superior to the English in gunnery.

CHAPTER X.

EVENTS OF 1813.

Bounty on American Scalps. - The Slaughter at Frenchtown. The Hornet meets the Peacock. -Lawrence takes command of the Chesapeake. · The Shannon challenges the Chesapeake. - Death of Lawrence. -"Don't give up the Ship."

No British commander was more heartily hated by the Americans during the War of 1812 than General Proctor, who commanded the troops on the borders of Michigan. He had in his army a large body of Indian allies, and the dreadful mode of warfare which they pursued was said to be encouraged by Proctor. American scalps were paid for, as in new settlements a bounty is offered for the heads of wolves, or any wild animals whose ravages are dangerous. Many horrible stories are told of Proctor's insensibility and cruelty. He is accused of permitting the slaughter of the Americans, even after they had surrendered and begged for quarter, and of encouraging his Indian allies in their frightful massacres. It is only common For a long charity to hope that these accusations are not all true. time the slaughter at Frenchtown, on the river Raisin, was held up as one of the bloodiest deeds of all Proctor's bloody campaign. Frenchtown was a settlement built on both sides the river Raisin, and

was a peaceful, quiet little village, until the horrors of war came to disturb and destroy it. As soon as the English had taken Detroit, and were menacing all that part of Michigan, the people of Frenchtown began to be alarmed for their safety. They sent to General Harrison's army, which was quartered in northern Ohio, asking their protection from Indian slaughter. A party of Harrison's troops went down, met the British near Frenchtown, drove them away, and guarded the little town. In the mean time General Winchester, one of Harrison's officers, marched to their aid with another body of men. Before he had joined the Americans at Frenchtown, Proctor came up with some British and Indians, surrounded them, and took Winchester prisoner. Proctor worked so on Winchester's fears for the safety of his comrades in Frenchtown, that he induced him to write an order for them to surrender themselves to the British, before the Indians should set upon them and put them all to the tomahawk. The troops inside the town reluctantly gave in to Winchester's commands, only stipulating that if they yielded themselves up as prisoners, their wounded men in the houses of the settlers should be well taken care of. Proctor prom

ised of course, and then went away, taking with him his large body of prisoners. The wounded were left behind to be ministered to by the people of the little village.

A terrible anxiety hung over the place as it saw its protectors thus led away as prisoners of war. They feared an invasion of the savages who had been by night and day their constant dread. Their fears were more than justified. In less than twenty-four hours the yelling savages, painted in their most hideous manner, entered the houses where lay the wounded Americans, and scalped them with the barbarity of demons. Some they killed at once, and so set them free from their misery; others they left half alive, in torturing agony. At the last they set fire to the houses, where the wounded lay, and burned their bodies in this funereal pile. Some of these very scalps torn from the heads of these victims, were carried to the British head-quarters as trophies of their faithfulness to the English arms.

In this massacre on the Raisin perished some of the noblest sons of Kentucky - young men of birth and education. It roused the anger of the whole Northwest, and crowds of new recruits, eager to avenge their countrymen, came pouring in to join Harrison's army in Ohio.

If you look on the map and trace the progress of the campaign in the North, you will find the struggle was confined to the borders of Lake Erie, beginning northwest at Detroit, and running southward along northern Ohio and New York, till it ended at Sackett's Harbor. Harrison, with the western wing of the army, occupied Fort Meigs, on the Maumee River, and General Dearborn commanded the east wing resting at Sackett's Harbor. All the winter and spring of 1812 there was hard fighting on this border line, and many a deed of heroism made a bright spot in the midst of the general darkness and horror of war.

In spite of the bravery and caution of General Harrison, backed by the Kentucky troops eager to avenge their slaughtered brethren; in spite of the experience of General Dearborn, aided by the brave young Winfield Scott, the northern frontier was weak and poorly defended, and the victories which had thus far protected us from complete ruin, were our victories on the ocean.

In January, 1813, the very month in which Proctor's Indians. were slaughtering the unprotected people in Frenchtown, our ships in the Atlantic were seeking for new enemies to conquer. Captain James Lawrence commanded the Hornet, one of the vessels belonging to the command of Commodore Bainbridge, which was separated from its fleet, and was now cruising in the West Indies close to the small island of San Salvador. Here Lawrence met the English ship Peacock, which came up to give battle. The Hornet accepted the challenge with great alacrity, and buzzing about the Peacock, showed her stings with such effect, that in fifteen minutes the English ship was a wreck.

After her surrender it was found that she had several feet of water in her hold, and would sink, if something were not done to save her. Captain Lawrence took the officers and crew on board his own ship, except a dozen men, who stayed to see if they could not save the vessel. A few men from the Hornet went on board to assist in calking up the holes in the injured ship, and while they were thus at work the hulk sank, carrying down three men of the Hornet's crew, and nine of the Peacock.

The generous way in which Lawrence treated his prisoners, won the hearts of the British, while his bravery won the praises of his countrymen. His name was set beside those of Jones, Decatur, Hull, and Bainbridge.

When Lawrence came to Boston harbor after taking the Pea

cock, a new ship was assigned to him. You remember the Chesapeake, who had been fired into by the Leopard when she refused to be searched for English seamen? It was this ship which now fell to Lawrence's command. The Chesapeake had borne the name of an "unlucky ship" ever since the day when the first blood spilt in this war had stained her decks. Nearly all the sailors in the navy had a good deal of reluctance to ship on board her. With the usual superstition of sailors, they were wont to say that "sooner or later the Chesapeake would come to a bad end."

Flushed and happy from his recent victory, the gallant Lawrence took command of her. Just as he was ready to sail out of Boston harbor, a politely written challenge to test the powers of their ships in battle, came from Captain Broke of the British ship Shannon, which lay outside the harbor, one of a fleet which was blockading the coast of New England. Lawrence accepted the challenge and

I went out to meet his foe.

The news that the Chesapeake and Shannon were to meet in mortal combat, spread like wild-fire round the coast. On the highlands about Boston harbor, in Salem and Marblehead, groups of people, some with glasses and some without, assembled to watch the result. I wish the prophecy of the sailors had failed, and I was able to write of victory for the unlucky Chesapeake. Instead, I must tell you that in fifteen minutes she was completely disabled, and when boarded by the British, who shouted for joy at this victory, coming after so many defeats, the star spangled flag was hauled down and wrapped round the body of her dead commander. For brave James Lawrence was dead. Mortally wounded in the first of the battle, he was carried below, crying in death, "Don't give up the ship." He did not survive the loss of his vessel, and his corse, still enveloped in the flag he loved so well, was carried to Halifax by the British, and buried with all the honors it deserved.

Captain Lawrence.

CHAPTER XI.

BATTLE OF LAKE ERIE.

Ship-building on the Lake. A Stage-coach loaded with Sailors. The Look-out at Put-in Bay. -The Battle begins. - Commodore Perry's Ship disabled. He rows to the Niagara.-Victory on Lake Erie. - Battle of the Thames.

ALL through the summer of 1813 there were busy times in the harbor of Erie, Pennsylvania. Several gallant vessels, some ready to be launched, some partly completed, others merely great skeleton hulks on whose sides the hammer of the carpenter made cheery music, were gathered in the quiet harbor of Lake Erie, on whose shores the town of Erie, Pennsylvania, is built.

Captain Oliver Perry, a young naval officer, had been sent there to build a fleet to engage with the British squadron which held the lake. When all were finished, there were nine ships in all— three brigs, a sloop, and five schooners. The brig which was to be Perry's own flag-ship, he named the Lawrence, in honor of the dead hero who had fallen on the Chesapeake.

After the ships were done and lay sound and stanch in the harbor, there were no men to work her. For weeks Perry begged for men and promised the country victory if they would send him sailors. At length tardily and in small installments they came in. General Harrison furnished one hundred Kentucky riflemen from his army. Dressed in their fringed hunting shirts, and leggings of deer-skins, they made a picturesque party for the deck of a man-of-war. New England also sent sailors. From Rhode Island, Captain Perry's native State, another hundred men were sent. These were real sailors, who had seen service on the Atlantic, some of them gray old seadogs with hands horny from handling tarred ropes in ships of war or commerce. When they were ready to be sent to Lake Erie it was found that they could not march on foot like soldiers. They rolled about on their legs like ships in a gale, and knew so little about military order, that it was useless to attempt to march them thither. So the government fitted up a dozen great stage-coaches in Boston, with four horses each, and in these they were taken to Lake Erie. These jolly tars decorated their coaches with flags and streamers, and with a band of musicians on top, rattled through the country to the tunes of Yankee Doodle and Hail Columbia, waking the huzzas of the people as they drove through the scattered villages from Bos