That warm benevolence of heart

Jeffrey P. McGovern, MD

One need only reside in the Erie region for a short time before spying on a placard or flag with the words: “Don’t give up the ship.” Those words are rightly attributed to Oliver Hazard Perry, who during the fateful Battle of Lake Erie during the War of 1812, carried the flag bearing these same words from the badly damaged US Lawrence to his new flagship US Niagara. The rest, as is often said, is history. What happened after these heady few hours on the lake to this young naval man is linked to another viral scourge, one that would be eventually controlled by other giants in medicine.

Born near Wakefield, Rhode Island on August 23, 1785, Oliver Hazard Perry, named for an uncle lost at sea (history.navy.mil), decided on a naval career at the age of 13. His father, Christopher Perry, captain of the US frigate General Greene, in a gentle act of nepotism recommended his son for a midshipman appointment. Over the next 6 years from 1799-1805 he participated in the “small wars” with France and the Barbary pirates. He received his first command on the schooner Revenge in 1809. Unfortunately, the ship suffered damage from skirmishes and storms while on patrol in the southern waters near Charleston, South Carolina. Perry would also “suffer illness” in the warm climate which was prescient for the illness which would ultimately claim his life. In 1811, the Revenge struck a reef in heavy fog in the northern waters near Block Island, where his request for a new assignment brought him. Following exoneration in his necessary court martial, he returned to Rhode Island, married his sweetheart, Elizabeth Champlin Mason, who bore him 5 children.

Perry remained unemployed until May of 1812 when the threat of war with Great Britain loomed. The loss of trade and the issue of impressment moved James Madison to declare war on the great sea power. While many of his friends gained glory on the earliest of US frigates, he only commanded a small flotilla of gunboats in Newport, Rhode Island. Desperate for glory, he petitioned on his own a friend, Isaac Chauncey, who by good fortune, was desperate for an experienced officer for a flotilla under rapid construction on Lake Erie (near the present-day Cascade Street). We know the rest of the story. Following successful construction of the flotilla, “Perry’s Luck,” a frequent reference in literature about the Commander, would bring him on September 13, 1813, to engage the British in the Detroit, Queen Charlotte and other ships. Although his flagship Lawrence was badly damaged in the fray, he transferred to the Niagara along with the flag bearing the famous words, “Don’t Give Up The Ship,” the last words of his friend captain Lawrence. Rallying to return to battle he delivered a full broadside at the Detroit and Queen Charlotte, and the battle ended at 2:50 p.m. He sent his famous message to then General Harrison: “We have met the enemy and they are ours…” The history traveler will note that this quote is emblazoned on two sister statues of Perry in both Perry Square in Erie and Newport.

This victory, though celebrated as a singular event in the war, was to be Perry’s swan song. His new command of the Java came too late as peace was declared between the warring nations. Perry’s luck seemed to continue to run out in a controversy with marine captain, John Heath. On a mission with the Java to the Mediterranean, two of Heath’s marines jumped ship and deserted. The incident led to blows between Perry and Heath when Heath, in the sordid climate of dueling, challenged Perry to a duel. At the same place in Hoboken where Burr felled Hamilton, Heath fired his shot, but Perry did not return the shot, maintaining his honor. A second incident embroiled the commander continued on page 4

That warm benevolence of heart

continued from page 3 in an altercation with the former captain of the Niagara during the battle of Lake Erie, James Elliott. Elliott, in keeping with the sordid culture, challenged Perry to a duel, but Perry sought to put an end to this “repugnant business” and filed court martial papers against Elliott. The Secretary of the Navy and President Monroe sought to settle this issue which would be scandalous given the fame and connections of these two officers. Monroe charged Perry with a diplomatic mission to Venezuela to congratulate President Simon Bolivar on forming a republican government. Sailing on board the US John Adams, Perry arrived off of the mouth of the Orinoco River on July 15, 1819. He transferred to the US Nonsuch to sail up the Orinoco River to Angostura, then the capital of Venezuela. He stayed in the capital with the new president on his diplomatic mission until August 15, but in the interim 20 men under his command contracted yellow fever, of whom 5 perished. Anxious to return to “fresh breezes” in Trinidad, he sailed rapidly on the Nonsuch but two days later was feverish and rapidly deteriorated. He died at 300 p.m. on his 34th birthday, August 23, 1819. He was eventually interred in Rhode Island, honored with the Congressional Medal of Honor.

It would seem that “Perry’s luck” did indeed run out. Sent on a diplomatic mission to Venezuela to defuse a scandalous altercation, he and his shipmates sailed right into the belly of the beast. Even as recent as 1948 (The American Journal of Tropical Medicine and Hygiene, s128: Issue 3) the Orinoco River Basin has harbored Yellow Fever (YF). The World Health Organization (WHO) estimated (WHO, 1992) 200,000 cases and 30,000 deaths attributable to YF mostly in South America and sub-Saharan Africa. Its complex ecology is mostly due to increased rainfall and temperature with increased incidence in South America from January to May (shortly before the US Nonsuch plied the Orinoco River). The manifestation of YF in Perry and 5 of his mates was severe as opposed to the majority in whom YF is asymptomatic. Years later YF claimed the lives of over 22,00 French as they labored to build the nascent Panama Canal. It was through medical giants like Cuban doctor, Carlos Finlay, who laid out convincing data to attribute the disease to mosquitos, then Dr Walter Reed, who tested Finlay’s theories, to Dr William Gorgas, who put the theories to practical test with fumigation (Texas Standard December 11, 2019) that the disease was better controlled. The YF vaccine was finally developed in the 1930’s after isolation of the Asibi strain of YF (Trans R Soc Trop Med Hyg 1936; 29:481529). Workers standing on the shoulders of physicians then as now can live and work in a world constantly threatened by viral scourges. Today we carry on the work of those giants to care for those with “that warm benevolence of heart” (letter from Benjamin Hazard to Sarah Perry, mother of Oliver; December 14, 1819). Don’t give up this ship!