"Those classic waters cannot match this lake," interrupted Hugh.
"The battle of Erie will outlive Salamis or Actium. The laurels of
Themistokles and Augustus fade even now before those of Perry. He was
a hero worth talking about, something more human altogether than any
of Plutarch's men. I feel it to be so now at least. It was right here
somewhere that the battle raged."

"He was quite a young man, I believe," said I, glad to show that I knew
something of the hero. I had seen his house at Newport many times, one
of the old colonial kind, and his picture, that of a tall, slim man,
with dash and bravery in his face, was not unfamiliar to me.

"Yes; only twenty-seven, and just married," continued the Historian,
settling down to work. "Before the battle he read over his wife's
letters for the last time, and then tore them up, so that the enemy
should not see those records of the heart, if victorious. 'This is the
most important day of my life,' he said to his officers, as the first
shot from the British came crashing among the sails of the Lawrence;
'but we know how to beat those fellows,' he added, with a laugh. He had
nine vessels, with fifty-four guns and four hundred and ninety officers
and men. The British had six ships mounting sixty-three guns, with five
hundred and two officers and men.

"In the beginning of the battle the British had the advantage. Their
guns were of longer range, and Perry was exposed to their fire half an
hour before he got in position where he could do execution. When he had
succeeded in this the British concentrated their fire on his flag-ship.
Enveloped in flame and smoke, Perry strove desperately to maintain his
ground till the rest of his ships could get into action. For more than