by James Spurr
Lawrence said, “Sir, would you care to join us?”
“Thank you, no. I came over to extend my congratulations to you, Perry, upon your wedding. Where are you serving, just now?”
Perry replied, “Thank you, Sir.” Then as he began to answer the second question, Lawrence interjected, hoping, Perry was certain, of bringing favor upon his good friend, “Perry has been charged with the defense of Narragansett Bay and entrusted with several vessels.”
Perry looked over to Lawrence, hoping he would not oversell to an officer such as Bainbridge, whose experience would all too easily smoke such a ruse. Bainbridge was polite, nodded and then asked Lawrence, “All is ready, Captain?”
“Indeed, sir! I will be aboard tonight and await your signals in the early morn,” Lawrence assured. Perry noted Bainbridge had no comment with respect to Narragansett Bay.
“Very well,” replied Bainbridge, “Good to see you, Perry.” “Good luck to you, Sir!” Perry offered and Bainbridge headed for the door where several other officers had gathered to meet him. Perry looked to Lawrence and asked, “What time do you weigh?” “Dawn, or upon Constitution’s signal. We shall rig the nipper to the cable yet this evening.”
Perry’s heart ached for the adventure. “Lawrence, look, a table has opened. Let us take our dinner, exchange old tales and share all rumors we have heard! I shall take a room here tonight and see you stand out to sea at dawn.”
As Perry and Lawrence dined, so too did Captain William Lee with Lieutenant Maynard Holmes, dispatched by Captain Isaac Chauncey, of Sackets Harbor, to accompany him on his mission.
Captain Lee more than two weeks before had dashed off an urgent letter to his sister Mary and Be-Mo-Se, his native companion, in Detroit. It was just prior to his leaving Black Rock with his son, James, and Trove. The three men determined to travel east together to a point where the Oswego River split northward from the Mohawk in central New York. They paddled hard, traveled light and moved fast, hunting occasionally and fishing more often from Trove’s birchbark canoe, Sarah. Trove mused the night before Captain Lee headed north, “I never would have wagered that when I helped myself to an abandoned native canoe in the Illinois Territory, I would yet be in command in central New York!”
Captain Lee smiled as James drifted off to sleep near the fire, “Trove, surely that has be a record. I suspect Sarah is just the first for you of many commands!”
The next morning, Sarah was less crowded and Trove and James continued eastward in all haste with the orders delivered them by Lieutenant Elliott at Black Rock and a document for Captain William Bainbridge. Neither lad knew him or the letter’s contents. William continued on northward alone, bearing as river, stream and trail permitted, paying local watermen to assist in transporting him in his quest to seek out Captain Isaac Chauncy at Sackets Harbor.
At Oswego, Captain Lee prevailed upon a government sloop bound for Sackets Harbor to save him days of overland trouble and toil. Upon landfall, late the following day at the eastern end of Lake Ontario, he was frustrated to learn he would have to wait until the following day to speak with Chauncey.
William toured the shipyard that evening and was impressed with the activity and preparations underway. He then reminded himself he was just forty miles from Kingston, a major maritime center for the Royal Navy, Provincial Marine and a strategic linchpin for the defense of Canada. William’s observations confirmed Chauncey’s reputation: he was an excellent administrator and organizer, mobilizing supplies and talent to an impressive degree rare on the Great Lakes.
William slept little that night and in the morning made his greeting as a supplicant before one whose deeds, as evidenced by the shipyard, commanded William’s sincere respect, “Good morning, Captain. Thank you for your time.”
“Of course, Captain,” Chauncey was as yet completing his signature and waited another moment for his quill to flow again before continuing. “You have come far and fast. Tell, me, how are things at Black Rock?”
“Very well, Sir. Have you heard, as yet, of Elliott’s cutting out?”
Captain Lee had Chauncey’s full attention, “My word, not as yet!”
The quill would remain inert on the desk for some time as Captain Lee offered the official line and a truncated account. Still, William made certain Chauncey knew he was in command of one of the Durham boats and briefly, the venerable President Adams for her last of many voyages. Chauncey was delighted and impressed. William hoped his ability to come bearing good news would soon serve him well. “Sir, I bring you a
note from Lieutenant Elliott. I have been appointed by him to serve as agent for our government, should you approve.” Chauncey unrolled the parchment, hurriedly penned by Elliott while newspaper reporters were waiting.
9 October 1812
at Black Rock Naval Yard
To Captain Isaac Chauncey, Commander, United States Naval forces on the Great Lakes at Sackets Harbor
Sir,
I have the pleasure to inform you of a favorable action this day in cutting out and capturing the Brig Caledonia and Snow President Adams, from under the guns of Fort Erie.
Caledonia is well found and ready to serve. Adams, regrettably, after a prolonged fight during which we accounted well for ourselves, was burned by our forces after running aground so to deprive her to the enemy.
Casualties were light. Eleven prisoners were taken. I recommend to you Merchant Master William Lee, as our agent in negotiating any possible exchange for our soldiers and sailors who may be held at Kingston.
Your Servant,
Lieutenant Jesse Duncan Elliott, U.S.N.”
Captain Chauncey was giddy with glee. The summer campaigns on land had been a disaster and the war had opened with nothing but bad news from the Northwest. For the time being, Elliott had balanced the naval assets on Lake Erie such that England could not, with the United States in possession of Caledonia, totally dominate those waters. Charged with taking the Upper Lakes, he knew that Lake Erie was critical and as the season drew to a close, the heroics at Black Rock would make his difficult job somewhat easier come spring.
“I must say, Captain Lee, you are a most welcome interruption,” Chauncey beamed.
“Sir, I would be pleased to leave for Kingston immediately,” and presuming the best, William stood to make his exit.
“My heavens, please be seated, Sir.” Chauncey shifted his focus from good news to an unusual request involving delicate matters, “Elliott’s request is most unconventional; appointing a civilian as our agent. Tell me, what is he about?”
William made to reassure as he reluctantly took his seat and prepared for the worst, “Sir, while it is true I am a civilian, I am experienced upon these waters and know well of our needs in terms of assessing which prisoners will be most useful to the cause. Lieutenant Elliott knows that I intend to return with ten badly needed hands and join our inland Navy. My status, at present, or lack thereof, in no manner reflects my intent.”
Chauncey considered once again the note before him on his desk and William’s verbal report. He looked up and asked, “So you say, Captain Lee, that Elliott placed you in command of Adams?”
“Aye, Sir, and a Durham boat of more than thirty men landing at her chains.” William’s kept his voice calm and soft and his gaze intent, as only one confident in his ability to meet challenges could ever summon.
Chauncey then challenged with one more question, “You mentioned you had planned to bring back ten. Yet you hold eleven prisoners?”
William thought instantly of his good friend and brother-in-law, Oliver, in two distinct contexts. First, Oliver would never have so slipped. He was by far the coolest under the pressure of presenting a proposal or handling a negotiation. How merchantmen kept their cool, chose their words so carefully and worked their words, gestures, expressions and inflection so to bring about a desired result William deemed both beauty and art, when not directed at him. He missed Oliver’s capable handling of such matters of business in securing and conf
irming such arrangements. William felt, suddenly, very out of his element and in obvious need to return to sea and resume his station on deck, if only he had a command. Second, he thought of Oliver as the obvious reason for his referring to the return to service of only ten seamen. Oliver was not a seaman.
“Sir,” William assured, dismissing his indiscretion, “it was a manner of expression. Why, whatever the number, certainly nearly a full crew for a sloop or schooner upon these Lakes; why just think of the advantage!”
William hoped the mere thought of such a favorable prospect might just shift Chauncey’s focus.
Chauncey stared out the window to the activity in the yard and the brisk northeast wind now whipping up whitecaps even in the harbor despite its lee shore advantage in such weather. He closed his eyes and considered the projects additional men could accomplish before snow accompanied those northeast winds.
“Very well, Captain Lee.” Chauncey startled William with his decisive tone as he wheeled around so to take his seat as though boarding the enemy, “I will ask that you travel to Kingston, however, with and subordinate to my adjunct. You may depart tomorrow, as Lieutenant Bray has duties to attend this day.”
Captain Chauncey picked up his quill and made it so.
More than one week later, after only two days of travel, Captain Lee and Lieutenant Bray dined after another weary day of examining lists, far more lengthy and with little detail, than what small counterpart they as Americans offered in exchange to their British cousins. Having some days before crossed the border and approached British sentries under a flag of truce, they had been treated most generously since.
William determined that matters of diplomacy were far too dull and fraught with far more process than any practical man could easily endure. Bray was holding up rather better, for he had some experience with such discussions in the naval war with France at the turn of the century. He actually went so far as to be encouraging, hoping to bolster William’s sagging confidence.
“Now hear me, Lee,” he said, shaking a fork full of mutton. “This list of soldiers they will present us tomorrow is touted by our enemy as the solution to these negotiations precisely because they know that seamen will best serve our cause. Certainly they will entice us with a greater number of landsmen in exchange precisely because they fear our fitting out our ships far more than they fear us filling out our ranks.”
As Bray wiped his fingers upon his napkin tucked into his stock, William considered that Bray did not entirely understand his purpose. “But Lieutenant, the British are willing to exchange as many as thirty, with a full third of those innocent civilians. How do we not take advantage of those numbers?”
Bray took a drink of wine, “Aye, it is tempting, but Chauncey was clear. He needs seamen and will not have the time to train civilians at the pinrail.” Bray’s point was telling and William knew, having given it his best now for more than a day, that he must change tacks or soon run aground.
They broke more bread, looked over their meager list once again and William decided upon a different approach, “What say ye to sticking to seamen, but allowing them to offhand a civilian or two?”
Bray looked confused and could not fathom the rationale behind such an odd combination. William continued as he backed his chair from the table at the only public house they were allowed to frequent under the terms of their visit, “The British will never agree to eleven seamen. Yet, if seamen we need, then we take less than our maximum. We balance that which they fear most with that which they fear least—civilians. Further, the British know the civilians deliver them little leverage in future discussions. They likely regret taking them and they constitute nothing but an expense to them, at this point.”
Bray looked around the tavern where nearly every third person wore the King’s coat. Making certain William’s strategy was not overheard, he leaned inward and raised his brow, “I say, Lee, I had never considered that approach. How many civilians do you think they may require we take?”
William tested the water and braced him for the worst, “Perhaps half.”
William waited until Bray’s protests passed, like a squall rolling up from the quarter. William then added to calm the waters, “But of course that will be much too many. I think we would do well for Chauncey by taking only three.”
Bray played with his wine, swirling it in his glass as he etched ovals in the tablecloth with the base of the glass. “Well, that might do if we got some competent fellows who knew their way around deck.”
William tried to hide his sigh of relief. “Have another glass, Bray. I sense we may wrap this up tomorrow.” Now it was Captain Lee cheering the adjunct. He stayed long enough to refill Bray’s glass at least twice more.
Captain Lee needed Bray to sleep well while he himself would sleep little. He could feel his excitement building, as often occurred as conditions warranted his presence on deck through successive night watches. He needed Bray to need him on the morrow and more wine would cause Bray to appreciate his well prepared merchant master companion – with unusual familiarity with one civilian in particular.
William rose early, dressed in the best of what little he carried and slipped his papers from both Chauncey and the Royal Navy Port Captain of Kingston into his coat pocket. As Bray snored in the adjacent room, William quietly slipped out the door and proceeded down the tree lined lane, now thinning of leaves and with most underfoot. He reported to the British garrison his purpose that morning.
As cook stoves began to send smoke trails from chimneys all over town and through the encampments, William, now with an armed guard, was led to a small wood framed house on a back lane from one of the major streets. Old but well maintained, the house boasted two framed windows with glass, showed signs of recently being whitewashed, and firewood was carefully stacked outside a small door to the side of the stone fireplace. There was no sign of activity, no smoke portending of breakfast. William frowned. He was hungry, having poured over lists through much of the night.
With a nod from the guard, anxious, no doubt, to return and take his own breakfast, William knocked. There was no response. Again, he knocked, with a will. After some seconds, floorboards creaked and he could discern the sound of the latch lifting on the inside of the door. The door opened and before any greeting, William admonished, “I travel the length and breadth of these inland seas and there is not so much as even breakfast waiting?”
Oliver cried out, “William, what joy!” He embraced his visitor and laughed aloud. Oliver’s face revealed the love and familiarity of best friends as well as brothers-in-law, parted much too long. Oliver’s surprise concealed, for the moment, the loneliness of the past months. His joy was mixed with confusion, a confusion that did not as yet justify hope. Did this welcome surprise signal his deliverance and return to some semblance of his former life, or had William himself in some manner become prisoner?
William looked to the guard, who nodded approvingly, and William entered. The guard took up his station outside the door. Oliver stood in his nightshirt and demanded news of Mary, his children and Be-Mo-Se. William assured him of the well being of all but then cautioned, “I have less than an hour, perhaps, so let me begin with what you need to know and understand.”
Oliver nodded and as he shifted into more suitable clothing, William built a fire, informed him of the status of matters along Lake Erie, Black Rock and at Sackets Harbor. Oliver was surprised at Trove’s return, delighted with James and Trove making their way to Boston. William then turned the discussion to his negotiations with the British as might soon unfold. As the hearth heated, William placed some bacon and eggs in a pan yet too cold. He cautioned and rehearsed Oliver in regards to an interview he may face later that day.
With no more than a few minutes remaining, William realized he had asked little about how his friend was getting along and holding up as a prisoner of war. Oliver was somber, but strong, “I am treated well. They afford me the honor of a gentleman, pay the stipend to the owner of this hom
e in a timely fashion, I am informed, and of course I am permitted some limited freedom and the ability to walk about; always watched from some distance. I fear our soldiers and sailors may not have it so comfortable, but there are so many, I suspect it is difficult to extend to all such courtesies.”
William noticed Oliver had lost weight yet appeared fit. Oliver confirmed, “Yes, both you and Mary would approve, I am sure. I suspect I have lost some pounds. To stay fit, I offer to garden, repair fences and assist with odd jobs.” Oliver quickly added, “Nothing to assist with their war efforts, of course.”
William nodded and assured softly, “Oliver, what you did to assist my son James in escaping from the Schooner Salina will forever place you among the ranks of patriots.”
Oliver was touched. “I would of course do it yet again and once more if needed.” While sailing down bound from Mackinaw upon Salina, with Friends Good Will already captured, Oliver caused a diversion among the small squadron that allowed James to swim to the shore of the St. Clair River. Those that were Royal Navy amid the squadron did not take it with any sense of humor; within a minute from confusion erupting on deck, Oliver found himself under arrest. The offense was minor and he would have likely been exchanged as a civilian some time before but for the lack of British prisoners available to the Americans so to fuel such discussions. That lack of prisoners told Oliver all he needed to know about how the first full summer of conflict had unfolded for the United States.
William looked into Oliver’s eyes and told him, “I shall be back, I suspect, by the end of the day, but if you are summoned by others, remember my caution.”
William rushed back to his quarters. He gathered Bray, a bit duller than on most mornings, and called upon the British Lieutenant at Navy Hall as had been their routine for some days. William assured Bray as they entered the building, “Lieutenant, I prepared a list last evening after searching for the best seaman and most valuable citizens. Trust me.”