New Jersey is very intimate with the ocean. For nearly the whole of her
length, from Cape May to Sandy Hook, the waves of the Atlantic roll and
roar. Wherever one may be in this State, it is not necessary to travel
very far in order to smell the fresh sea air.
It is true that but few of the great commercial vessels leave and arrive
at the ports of New Jersey, and that the presence of naval vessels in
her waters is due to the fact that she is part owner of the Bay of New
York; but it is also true, that, although she has not sent forth ships
to fight the battles of her country upon the ocean wave, she has sent
out to command those ships some of the best-known men who have ever worn
the American naval uniform.
One of the first occasions in which our naval vessels played a part in
foreign waters was of a rather romantic nature, though not particularly
calculated to raise our country's flag in our own estimation or that of
other nations.
It was at the end of the eighteenth century, when we had begun to trade
in various parts of the world, that our merchant vessels sailing on the
Mediterranean were greatly molested by the pirates of what was called
the Barbary Coast. The half-civilized and warlike people of Tripoli,
Algiers, Tunis, and Morocco, had long been in the habit of sending out
their armed vessels to prey upon the ships of all civilized countries;
and when American ships entered the Mediterranean, they soon found out
the state of affairs. Several vessels were captured, and the crews were
sent on shore and imprisoned or enslaved.
Nearly all the European maritime powers had defended their commerce
against these savage pirates, not by great guns and vessels of war, but
by humbly paying tribute. Every year these great nations sent money and
gifts to the Dey of Algiers, the Bey of Tunis, and the other rascals;
and in consideration of this tribute, their vessels were graciously
allowed to sail on the Mediterranean without molestation.
It was not long before the government of the United States saw very
plainly that it must pay tribute, conquer the Barbary States, or
quietly submit to the capture of all American merchantmen which might
sail into the Mediterranean. The easiest thing to do was to pay the
tribute; and as the other civilized nations did this, the United States
followed their example.
In the year 1800 a United States vessel bearing the name of "George
Washington," and commanded by William Bainbridge, a Jerseyman who had
been at sea ever since he was fourteen years old, sailed to Algiers,
carrying on board the ship which bore the name of the great man who had
made his country free and independent of the most powerful nation of the
earth, the tribute which was annually due from the United States to an
African sovereign, the Dey of Algiers.
This commission of the United States vessel seemed more humiliating from
the fact that our country had just come out of a war with France, in
which our frigate "Constellation" had defeated and captured one of the
vessels of that great naval power. But we had agreed to pay for the
privilege of trading in the Mediterranean, and, although the countries
of the Barbary Coast had no more right in that sea than Spain, France,
or Italy, they chose to assert their right, and we had acknowledged it.
When Bainbridge had arrived at Algiers, and had handed over the tribute
which he had brought, he supposed that his business was over, and
prepared to sail away; but the Dey, who was a potentate accustomed to
ask for what he wanted and to get it, informed the United States
commander that he wished to send him upon an errand.
These Barbary powers were all subject to the great head of the
Mohammedan nations, the Sultan of Turkey; and the Dey desired to send an
ambassador to his imperial master, and as the "George Washington" was
about to sail, he determined to make use of her.
When Captain Bainbridge was informed that the Dey commanded him to take
the ambassador to Constantinople, he very naturally declined, and
thereupon a great hubbub arose. The Dey informed Bainbridge, that, as
the United States paid him tribute, its people were his slaves; they
were bound, as were his other subjects, to obey his commands, and to do
what he told them without hesitation or question. If they were not his
slaves, why did they come here, meekly bearing money and other gifts to
their master?
All this had no effect in convincing Captain Bainbridge that he was a
slave of the Dey of Algiers, and bound to go upon his errands; but there
was an American consul there, and he saw that the matter was very
serious indeed. The harbor was commanded by forts mounted with heavy
guns, and if these were brought to bear upon the "George Washington,"
she would certainly be blown to pieces without much chance of defending
herself; and, moreover, such a conflict would surely bring about a war
with Algiers, and it was not at all desirable that an American officer,
bound upon friendly business, should provoke war between his country and
another.
This reason was a very bitter dose for Captain Bainbridge; but after
consideration he found himself obliged to take it. If he refused, there
would be a United States ship the less; and he knew not how many
American ships, now sailing without fear upon the Mediterranean, might
be seized and burned, and their crews thrown into horrible slavery. He
had no right to precipitate anything of this sort, and consequently,
under protest, he agreed to take the Algerine ambassador to
Constantinople. But this was not all the high-minded Dey demanded. He
insisted that when the "George Washington" sailed out of the harbor, she
should sail, not as a United States vessel, but as a ship of Algiers,
and that she should carry on the mainmast, where generally floated the
stars and stripes, the Algerine flag, while he kindly consented that the
flag of her own country might float from the foremast. It was as
difficult to refuse this second demand as it was the first, and so the
"George Washington" went out of Algiers with the pirate's flag proudly
floating from its mainmast.
As soon as he got out of sight of land, Bainbridge hauled down the
Algerine flag and put up his own; but this was a very small satisfaction
and not particularly honorable.
When the "George Washington" reached Constantinople, she created a
sensation. Never before in the waters of the Golden Horn had the stars
and stripes been seen, and the people of the city could not imagine
where this strange ship came from. Some of these people had heard of
America and the United States, but they knew of it only in a vague and
misty way, very much as we understand some parts of the interior of
China. If Captain Bainbridge had told them he was from New Jersey, he
might as well have told them he came from the moon.
But the Americans were very well received in Constantinople, and the
officers of the government were glad to welcome them and do them honor.
Captain Bainbridge and the Turkish admiral became very good friends; and
when the latter heard how the former had been treated at Algiers, he
condemned the insolent Dey, and laid the matter before the Turkish
Government. In consequence of this, Bainbridge was given a paper, signed
by the Sultan, which would protect him thereafter from any such
disrespectful treatment from any of the minor Mohammedan powers. When
Captain Bainbridge had enjoyed all the Turkish hospitality his duties
permitted him to receive, he sailed from Constantinople and again
entered the port of Algiers. The Dey was glad to see him come back, for
he had some more business for him; and our Jersey captain was soon
informed that he must sail away again on another errand for his Barbary
master. But this time the Barbary master was very much astonished, for
Bainbridge peremptorily refused to do anything of the kind.
Now the blood of the Dey boiled hot, and he vowed that if the "George
Washington" did not immediately sail forth upon his service, he would
declare war upon this miserable little country which owned it, and he
would put the commander and crew of the ship in chains, and clap them
into dungeons. But Bainbridge did not turn pale, nor did he tremble. He
simply pulled from his pocket the paper which he had received from the
Sultan, and allowed the furious Dey to glance over it. When the raving
pirate read the words of his imperial master, all the fury and the
courage went out of him, and he became as meek and humble as if he had
been somebody come to pay a tribute to himself. He received Bainbridge
as a friend and an equal, and, from commanding and threatening him,
became so gracious, and made so many offers of service and friendship,
that Bainbridge decided to take advantage of this auspicious change of
temper.
Not long before, the French consul at Algiers had been seized and
imprisoned, together with all the Frenchmen who were doing business in
that place; for, so long as people belonged to a country which was a
great way off, the Dey considered himself an all-powerful ruler, who
could do what he pleased with them without fear of their far-away
government. Bainbridge determined to try to do something for these poor
men; and when he again met the smiling and pleasant Dey, he urged their
release. The paper which Bainbridge received from the Sultan must have
been written in very strong terms; for, although the demand of the
American captain was a heavy one, the Dey agreed to it, and when the
"George Washington" sailed from Algiers, she carried away all the
Frenchmen who had been living there.
Bainbridge was not at all satisfied with this Algerine business; and
when he reported the affair to the authorities at home, he requested
that he might never again be sent to carry tribute to Algiers unless he
could deliver it from the mouths of his cannon.
The next year the Bashaw of Tripoli, who had had no tribute from the
United States, began to be very uneasy in his mind because he did not
fare so well as the other Barbary potentates, to whom money and
merchandise were delivered every year. He accordingly spoke up in
defense of his rights. It is not likely that he knew where the United
States was, what sort of a country it was, or how large or how small its
army and navy might be. He knew that the Americans were miserable,
humble people, who paid tribute to the Bey and the Dey, and he could see
no particular reason why they should not pay it to the Bashaw.
Consequently he wrote a letter to the President of the United States, in
which he expressed his views very pointedly, and informed him, that, if
proper arrangements were not made in six months, he would destroy all
the American ships on the Mediterranean, and declare war against the
United States.
Strange to say, a thrill of terror did not run through the government of
the United States; and six months passed without any notice having been
taken of this impertinent communication. Thereupon the Bashaw cut down
the flag pole in front of the American consul's office at Tripoli, and
commenced the great work of annihilating the United States of America.
He began on the small American trading vessels which he found along the
Barbary Coast, intending probably, when his convenience would permit, to
sail out upon the Atlantic, find the United States, and help himself to
the treasures which its government had so disrespectfully declined to
hand over to him. The example of the Bashaw had a great effect upon the
Dey and the Bey and the sub-Sultan; and Algiers, Tunis, and Morocco also
informed the President of the United States that they were going to war
with him if he did not immediately promise to pay tribute more regularly
and in articles of better quality.
But the United States was getting tired of this sort of thing, and
determined, no matter what the other civilized powers chose to do, that
no more tribute should be paid by it to these insolent pirates.
Consequently our government informed the mighty monarchs of the Barbary
Coast that it was quite ready for war, and sent four ships to the
Mediterranean, one of which, the "Essex," was commanded by Bainbridge.
But the fleet did not do very much on this expedition, and the war with
North Africa dragged considerably. Bainbridge came back to America, and
after a time returned in command of the "Philadelphia." There was a
small squadron with him, but he sailed faster than the other vessels,
and reached the Mediterranean alone. Here he overhauled a Moorish vessel
which had captured an American brig under a commission from Morocco.
Having rescued the American vessel, the crew of which were prisoners in
the pirates' hold, the "Philadelphia" took the Moorish vessel as a prize
to Gibraltar, and then started out again to see what could be done to
humble the port of Tripoli.
In this undertaking our Jerseyman did not meet with good fortune. In
chasing a Tripolitan vessel which was discovered near the harbor, the
"Philadelphia" ran upon a reef, and there stuck fast. Everything was
done that could be done to get her off; even the cannon were thrown
overboard to lighten her, but it was of no use. She was hard and fast;
and when the people of Tripoli found out what had happened, their
gunboats came out of the harbor, and the "Philadelphia" was captured,
and all on board, including Bainbridge, were made prisoners. They were
taken to Tripoli, and there remained in captivity nineteen months. Now
the soul of the Bey swelled high in his bosom as he smiled at this
attempt of the little country across the ocean to resist his power.
The Tripolitans found that they had gained a great prize in the
"Philadelphia," that fine war ship, which seemed to have been left on
the reef as a present to them. After a good deal of work, they towed her
into the harbor close to the town, where they repaired her leaks, and
put her in order to use against their enemies the Americans, who did not
know how to keep a good thing when they had it. When Commodore Preble
came, six months afterwards, to blockade the port of Tripoli, he
discovered that the "Philadelphia" was nearly ready for sea; and, to
prevent the disaster of having a United States ship with United States
cannon bear down upon them, he determined to destroy the "Philadelphia,"
if possible, and an excellent plan for the purpose was devised. A small
vessel called the "Intrepid," which had been captured some time
previously, was manned with a crew of over eighty men, commanded by
Lieutenant Decatur, who, years after, finished the Algerine war.
This brave little vessel sailed into the harbor as if she had been an
ordinary merchantman, and managed to drift down close to the fine
frigate which the Tripolitans had snatched from their blundering enemy.
The crew on board the "Philadelphia" did not suspect the character of
the little vessel which came so close to them, until she was made fast,
and more than eighty men sprang up from the places where they had been
lying concealed on deck, and swarmed over the side of the frigate.
Among these was a young sailor, Lawrence, from Burlington, N.J., who had
begun life early, having been a midshipman when he was only sixteen
years old. When Commodore Preble asked for volunteers to go on this
expedition to snatch from the hands of the pirates the prize which they
thought they had won, Lawrence was one of the first volunteers, and
acted as second in command of this expedition.
The fight was not long. Many of the turbaned crew jumped overboard, and
the others were quickly subdued. It would have been a grand thing if
Decatur and his gallant sailors could have carried off the
"Philadelphia," and have taken her out to the squadron. But this was
absolutely impossible. Her foremast had been cut down in order to
lighten her so that she could be floated off the reef, and many of her
sails were wanting. Knowing that the vessel would not be found in
sailing trim, Preble had issued positive orders that no attempt should
be made to capture her, but that she should be burned.
The cannon from the town and from the war vessels in the port now began
to fire; but the men with Decatur and Lawrence knew exactly what they
had to do, everything having been carefully arranged beforehand. They
went to work without losing a minute, and set fire to the frigate in
many places. The flames and the smoke spread so rapidly that some of
them had hardly time to get out of the hold. Lieutenant Lawrence found
he could not get on deck the way he came down, and was obliged to run
along the hold and climb up forward. As quickly as possible every one
jumped on board the "Intrepid," and, without relying entirely on their
sails to enable them to get away, they put out sixteen great oars, which
were pulled with a will by three or four men to each oar.
Now the whole harbor of Tripoli was in wild commotion. The Americans
stopped rowing for a moment to give three great cheers, and soon cannon
shot were flying fast and furious after the retreating little vessel.
But only one of them touched her, and that passed through a sail without
doing much damage; and she rowed until her sails caught the wind, and
then went out of the harbor, and returned in triumph to the squadron.
Soon after they had left the "Philadelphia," that great vessel, with her
hull blazing and the flames crackling and climbing up her masts, took it
upon herself, in these last minutes of her existence, to strike a blow
for the flag of her country. Possibly suspecting that some attempt might
be made to rescue the ship they had captured, the Tripolitans had loaded
all her cannon so as to be ready to fire upon any vessel that might
approach her. As the fire spread over her hull, the time came when the
"Philadelphia" could do something for herself; and when the guns were
hot enough, she let fly a broadside into the town, and then another one
among the shipping. How much damage she did, we do not know; but the
soul of the Bashaw ceased to swell as he heard the roar of her last
broadsides, and beheld her burning fragments scattered over the waters
of the harbor.
But when the Bashaw of Tripoli imprisoned Bainbridge, and even after he
had seen the frigate he had captured disappear in flames and smoke, he
found he was not yet rid of Jersey sailors. Some months afterwards, when
Commodore Preble was still off the Barbary Coast, there was a vessel in
the squadron called the "Nautilus," which was commanded by a young
Jerseyman named Somers. He was a brave sailor, and had already
distinguished himself on several occasions.
Fighting the Bey was a good deal like trying to get at a rat in a hole,
and, although there were some good fights in the Tripolitan waters, the
fleet did not meet with much success at first. But the Americans were
very anxious to do something effective, for at that time Bainbridge and
his crew were imprisoned in the town, and no one knew what hardships and
cruelties they might be enduring.
After much consideration it was thought that a good way to strike a
decisive blow would be to send a vessel loaded with shells and gunpowder
into the harbor of Tripoli by night, and explode her there. This might
result, it was thought, in the destruction of the forts and ships, and
possibly part of the town, and so terrify the Bey that he would come to
terms. Lieutenant Somers, who had been foremost in contriving this
project, volunteered to command the expedition. The whole affair was so
extremely dangerous that no one was ordered to take part in it, and all
those who wished to go went of their own free will.
The "Intrepid," the small vessel on which Decatur and Lawrence had
sailed to burn the "Philadelphia," was still with the fleet, and this
was heavily loaded with explosives of all kinds. The plan was, that
after nightfall the "Intrepid" should be sailed as near as possible to
the town, and that, after lighting the slow match which communicated
with the terrible cargo, those on board should take to two small boats
which they had in tow, and row out of the harbor as fast as possible,
leaving there the "Intrepid" to hurl fire and destruction into the
enemy's strongholds.
Before Somers started out on this perilous voyage, he addressed the few
men who were to accompany him, and told them that he wanted no one to go
who would not be willing to blow himself up rather than be captured. It
was well known that the Tripolitans were short of ammunition, and if
they suspected what sort of a vessel it was which floated by night into
the harbor, they would board her and capture her, if it should be
possible, and thus gain possession of a great quantity of powder and
shell. Rather than that this should happen, Somers told his men that he
would blow up the little vessel with all on board, if the enemy should
take it. But no man flinched; and after they had all taken leave of
their friends on the fleet, as if they had been going to execution, the
"Intrepid" slowly sailed away into the harbor, and it was not long
before she was lost to view in the mists of the night.
But after a time it became apparent to those on the American fleet that
she was not lost to view to those in the harbor, for the guns of the
fort began to fire on her. Everybody who had a glass kept it fixed on
that part of the harbor where it was supposed Somers and his little
vessel must be, and in course of time they saw a light rapidly moving
as if some one were carrying a lantern from one end of the vessel to the
other. Then in less than a minute there was a blaze and a roar, and the
whole harbor of Tripoli was lighted up as if there had been an explosion
of fireworks. Sparks and fiery fragments flew into the air, and the
waters seemed to be shaken as if by an earthquake. Then all was silent
and dark.
Of course, the "Intrepid" had blown up, but how or why nobody on the
fleet could know; nor did Somers and his brave crew ever come back to
tell them. Some people thought, and still think, that the "Intrepid" was
about to be captured, and that Somers carried out his resolution to blow
up the vessel under him rather than allow it to be taken. Others suppose
that a red-hot cannon ball from one of the forts may have set the vessel
on fire; but the truth no one knows. We only know that this brave young
Jerseyman went out to his fate determined to do his duty, no matter what
happened, and that he died in doing it.