fall of his gallant son in action; for while Perry's brow was
laurelled with the wreath of victory, he did not forget that there were
mourners weeping for brave hearts which in the fight had been forever
put to rest.

The name of Perry was now made a household word from the great Northern
Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico, from the Atlantic Coast to the impenetrated
wilderness of the West, often repeated at the baptismal font; and a
nation's gratitude was soon laid at his feet. As humane in victory as he
had been brave in action, his generous kindness won the admiration of
Barclay, and his dying comrades showered upon him their blessings and
remembered him in their final prayers.

Prayers of gratitude to that Almighty Power which had given victory to
the American arms went up from every fireside throughout the Northwest;
and mothers pressed their children more closely to their breasts as they
thought themselves to be henceforth secure from the scalping-knife of
Indian barbarity, and that the savage war-whoop would no more break the
sleep of the cradle.

At night-fall many of the dead with all due solemnity were tenderly
committed to the deep. The wounded had all been visited and their wants
attended to; the worn and weary now sought repose, and a solemn
oppressive silence soon pervaded the fleet, save here and there a sound
of distress from the wounded. The Captain now retired for reflection,
for his mind and heart were too full for rest. He then thought of his
young devoted wife whose prayers he believed had been his shield in
battle; that his work was yet incomplete while the British had an army
on the borders of the Lake, or in Upper Canada,--how he could best aid
General Harrison's army; and then resolved on the work of the morrow;
when, soothed by reflection, his tired nature gave out, and he, too,
sank into a fitful slumber.

The mind of Barclay, relieved of present responsibility, evolved other
less pressing but more pensive thoughts. He thought not of himself or
his bleeding wound, for he had bled before for his country, when he
earned his stars and made his fame secure at Trafalgar; but as the sun
went down that night he thought that no more in the evening twilight
would the mariners of England standing under the cross of St. George, on
that great inland water, sing their national song, "Brittania rules the
waves;" no more the echoes of that stirring air rolling over the silver
surface of the Lake to its islands