By EDWARD S. ELLIS, A.M.
(1779-1820)
[Footnote 6: Copyright 1894, by Selmar Hess.]
[Illustration: Stephen Decatur. [TN]]
Stephen Decatur was born on the eastern shore of Maryland, Worcester
County, January 5, 1779. The family was of French extraction in the
paternal line, and of Irish on the maternal side. The grandfather was
a native of La Rochelle, in France, and married a lady of Newport, R.
I., where Stephen, the son of the commodore, was born. When a very
young man he removed to Philadelphia and married the daughter of an
Irish gentleman named Pine. Decatur was bred to the sea and commanded
a merchantman out of the port of Philadelphia, until appointed to the
sloop-of-war, Delaware. Upon the completion of the frigate
Philadelphia, the command of it was given to him.
The elder Decatur had one daughter and three sons. The daughter was
twice married, her first husband having been killed in a duel. The
sons were Stephen, James, and John P., all of whom grew to manhood.
The boys were educated at the old Philadelphia Academy in Fourth
Street. Admiral Charles Stewart attended the same school and was an
intimate friend of Decatur through life. Many of the incidents of this
sketch were received by the writer from Stewart, who fully appreciated
the manliness, courage, and nobility of the sailor, now accepted as
the foremost type of the heroes and founders of the American navy.
"Decatur was a born fighter," said Stewart; "I never knew a boy so
fond of a bout as he. I sat near him at school and have known weeks to
pass, without a single day in which he did not arrange a contest with
one of the boys. We generally adjourned to the Quaker burying-ground
opposite, and had it out among the tombs. Decatur despised meanness of
every description, and rarely was beaten in a fight. When only
fifteen, he half killed a partially intoxicated man who insulted his
mother and refused to apologize. He never knew when he was whipped,
but would hang on like a bull-dog. I was a few months older than he,
but we were appointed midshipmen in the same year, 1798. Our intimacy
was never broken by the slightest incident."
Upon entering the navy, in March of the year named, Decatur joined the
frigate United States, under command of Commodore Barry, who had
obtained the warrant for him. He served with Barry until promoted to a
lieutenancy. The United States needed repairs, and not wishing to stay
in port, Decatur applied for orders to join the brig Norfolk, then
bound to the Spanish Main. After one cruise he returned again to port
and resumed his station on the United States, where he stayed until
our naval troubles with France terminated. He was next ordered to the
Essex and sailed with Commodore Dale's squadron to the Mediterranean.
Returning home once more, he was appointed to the New York, one of the
second squadron under command of Commodore Morris. When he again came
back, he was ordered to command the Argus, to proceed with her to join
Commodore Preble's squadron in the Mediterranean, and on his arrival
there to resign the Argus to Lieutenant Hull and take charge of the
schooner Enterprise, then commanded by that officer.
The exchange being made, Decatur sailed to Syracuse where the squadron
was to rendezvous. There he learned of the disaster to the
Philadelphia. That frigate, as the reader will recall, ran aground
while blockading Tripoli (with which country we were at war), and was
captured by the Turks. Commodore Bainbridge and his crew of more than
three hundred, among whom were Porter, Jones, and Biddle, were made
prisoners and immured in a gloomy dungeon. Decatur quickly formed a
plan for capturing or destroying the frigate. Preble, to whom the
proposal was submitted, refused at first to give his consent, but his
impetuous lieutenant won him over and was allowed to lead the
expedition.
Decatur selected the ketch Intrepid, which he had captured a few weeks
before, and manned her with seventy volunteers, chiefly his own crew.
He sailed from Syracuse, February 3, 1804, accompanied by the United
States brig Siren, Lieutenant Stewart, who was to aid with his boats
and to receive the crew of the ketch, should it be found expedient to
use her as a fireship.
The weather was so tempestuous that it required fifteen days to reach
the harbor of Tripoli. It was arranged by Decatur and Stewart that the
ketch should enter the harbor about ten o'clock that night, attended
by the boats of the Siren. A change of wind threw the Siren six or
eight miles away from the Intrepid, and, fearing to wait for the
boats, Decatur decided to adventure alone in the harbor, which he did
about eight o'clock.
The Philadelphia lay within one-half gunshot of the Bashaw's castle
and of the principal battery; two of the enemy's cruisers were only a
couple of cables' length away on the starboard quarter, and their
gunboats were within one-half gunshot on the starboard bow. All the
guns of the frigate were mounted and loaded.
Although it was only three miles from the entrance of the harbor to
the frigate, the wind was so light that the Intrepid did not get
within hail until eleven o'clock. At the distance of two hundred
yards, the frigate hailed the ketch and ordered her to anchor under
threat of being fired into. Decatur's Maltese pilot, by his direction,
replied they had lost their anchor in a gale of wind off the coast and
were unable to do as commanded. When within fifty yards Decatur sent a
small boat with a rope to make fast to the frigate's fore-chains. This
was done and the Americans began warping the ketch alongside. Not
until that moment did the Tripolitans suspect the character of the
Intrepid. They were thrown into confusion, during which the two
vessels came together. Decatur was the first to leap aboard, followed
immediately by Midshipman Charles Morris. A minute passed before their
companions could join them, but the Turks were too terrified to sweep
the daring officers from the deck, as they might have done in the
twinkling of an eye.
As soon as Decatur could form a line equal to that of the enemy, the
charge was made. Twenty of the Turks were killed, many jumped
overboard, and the rest scurried to the main deck whither they were
pursued and driven into the hold.
The Americans had hardly gained possession of the frigate, when a
number of launches were seen hurrying about the harbor. Decatur
decided that the best defence could be made by staying on the frigate,
and he prepared to receive their attack. Meanwhile, the enemy had
opened fire from the batteries and the castle and from two corsairs
lying near. As the launches did not approach, the lieutenant ordered
the ship to be set on fire in several places. The flames spread so
fast that it was with the utmost difficulty the Americans were able to
reach the ketch. At that critical moment, a propitious breeze sprang
up and carried the Intrepid out of the harbor. She had not lost a man,
only four being wounded.
For this exploit, Decatur was promoted to the rank of post captain,
there being no intermediate grade. The honor was specially gratifying,
since the promotion was made with the consent of every officer over
whose head he was raised. It should be stated that at that time the
rank of captain was the highest in the navy. A commodore was simply
the senior officer of a squadron and might be a master, commandant, a
lieutenant, or midshipman.
It was decided some weeks later to make an attack on Tripoli. The King
of Naples loaned six gunboats and two lombards to Commodore Preble.
These were formed in two divisions, Decatur commanding one and
Lieutenant Somers the other. The squadron which sailed from Syracuse
included the frigate Constitution, the brig Siren, the schooners
Nautilus and Vixen, and the gunboats. Adverse winds deferred the
attack for several days. Finally, on the morning of August 3d, the
weather being favorable, the signal was given from the commodore's
vessel to prepare for action. This signal to open the bombardment was
made at nine o'clock. The gunboats were cast off and advanced in a
line ahead, led by Captain Decatur and covered by the frigate
Constitution and the brigs and schooners. The enemy's gunboats were
moored along the harbor under the batteries and within musket-shot.
Their sails had been taken from them and they were ordered to sink
rather than abandon their position. They were aided and covered also
by a brig of sixteen and a schooner of ten guns.
Before entering into close action, Decatur went alongside each of the
boats and directed them to unship their bowsprits and follow him, as
it was his intention to board the enemy's boats. Lieutenant James
Decatur commanded one of the boats belonging to Commodore Preble's
division, but being farther to the windward than the rest of his
division, he joined and took orders from his brother.
When Captain Decatur in the leading boat came within range of the
batteries, they and the gunboats opened fire. He returned it and
pushed his way among the boats. At this juncture, Commodore Preble,
fearing the results of Decatur's rashness, ordered the signal to be
made for retreat. This command brought to light the singular fact,
that in making out the signals before going into battle, no one had
thought of that which ordered a retreat. It was impossible, therefore,
to recall the daring Decatur.
The enemy's gunboats contained forty men each and ours the same.
Decatur had twenty-seven Americans and thirteen Neapolitans. On
boarding the enemy, the latter held back, but our countrymen charged
eagerly forward. Ten minutes sufficed to clear the deck. Eight of the
Turks plunged into the hold, some fell while fighting, and others
leaped into the sea. Only three of the Americans were wounded.
As Decatur was about to withdraw with his prize, his brother's boat
came under the stern. The men called to him that they had engaged and
captured one of the enemy, but her commander, after surrendering, had
treacherously shot Lieutenant James Decatur, pushed off while the crew
were recovering the body, and was at that moment making all haste for
the harbor.
Decatur was infuriated on hearing this and resolved that the miscreant
should not escape. With his single boat he pressed with all possible
speed within the enemy's line, and running aside the offending boat,
bounded over the gunwale, followed by eleven Americans, all that were
left to him. Then followed the most desperate hand to hand fight
conceivable, the issue being in doubt for twenty minutes.
There have been many accounts of Decatur's exploit on this Tripolitan
gunboat, with considerable variation as to particulars. That which
follows is the story as it was told to me by Admiral Stewart, who
received it from Decatur himself, immediately after the fight. Decatur
presented the weapon, called an espontoon, to Stewart, and I naturally
examined it with great interest. The handle was of ivory and the blade
perhaps eight or ten inches long, being very narrow and curved like a
scimetar. It had no edge, was sharply pointed, and evidently made for
thrusting.
Nothing could stay the fury of Decatur. He easily identified the
commander by his immense size and gorgeous uniform. He eagerly sought
out the American and they instantly came together in the fight to the
death. Decatur had a cutlass, and the Turk a pike. The latter
inflicted a slight wound on Decatur's breast, and in parrying the
stroke his sword broke off at the hilt. Flinging the weapon aside, the
American sprang like a tiger at his antagonist. The two fell to the
deck, Decatur under, and flat on his back. The Turk had the weapon I
have described in the front of his sash and attempted to withdraw it
to give the finishing thrust. Decatur flung his legs over his back and
with one arm held his enemy so tight against his body that he could
not force his hand between. In this position, Decatur with his free
arm drew a pistol from near his hip, reached over the back of the Turk
and fired downward, directly toward himself.
"It was just like Decatur," said Stewart; "the chances were ten to one
that the bullet would pass through both their bodies, but luckily it
met a bone and the huge barbarian rolled off dead. The two were
half-smothered by others fighting and tumbling over them, and it was
with the utmost difficulty that Decatur freed himself from them and
rose to his feet."
While this fierce struggle was going on, a Turk fought his way forward
and aimed a fearful blow at Decatur, who was not aware of his danger.
Reuben Jones, an American sailor, so desperately wounded that he could
not use his arms, flung himself between them and received the blow on
his skull, which was fractured. It is a pleasure to record, however,
that the brave fellow finally recovered and lived many years on a
pension from his government.
Decatur succeeded in withdrawing with both prizes, and the next day
was honored with the highest commendation in general orders from
Commodore Preble. When the latter was superseded in command of the
squadron, he gave the command of the Constitution to Decatur, who had
some time before received his commission. From that ship he was
removed to the Congress, returning home on her on the conclusion of
peace with Tripoli.
Decatur was next employed as superintendent of gunboats, and March 6,
1806, was married to Miss Susan Wheeler of Norfolk, the only child of
wealthy and cultured parents. The union was a most happy one, though
no children were born to the couple.
In the month of June, 1807, the British frigate Leopard, while
cruising off the coast of Virginia, poured several broadsides into the
American frigate Chesapeake, commanded by Captain James Barron.
England, as will be remembered, insisted on the "right of search," and
the British Captain Humphreys claimed that the American had several
English deserters on board. The Chesapeake had three men killed and
eighteen wounded, and being unprepared for action, struck her colors.
Captain Barron was court-martialed and sentenced to five years'
suspension without pay from the service, for what was deemed a
cowardly act on his part. Commodore Decatur succeeded him in command
of the ship, being transferred to the United States, when she was
again put in commission.
October 25, 1812, in latitude 29 deg. N., longitude 29 deg. 30' W., Decatur
fell in with the British ship Macedonian, of 49 carriage guns (the odd
one shifting). This frigate was the largest of her class, two years
old, four months out of dock, and reputed one of the best sailers in
the English service. Taking advantage of the wind, the enemy fought at
her own distance. The battle lasted one hour and fifty minutes. The
United States poured such an incessant fire into the Macedonian that
the shouts of her crew were plainly heard. She lost her mizzenmast,
fore and main topsails and main yard, and was much damaged in the
hull. Her official list was, 36 killed and 48 wounded, that of the
Americans being 5 killed and 7 wounded. Decatur could have continued
his cruise, but was obliged to accompany his crippled prize into port,
where she was equipped as an American frigate. The young officer, as
may be supposed, was hailed by the country as its foremost naval hero.
Congress and several of the States voted him valuable testimonials for
his gallantry.
[Illustration: Decatur's conflict with the Algerine at Tripoli.]
The following year, Decatur attempted to gain the open sea from New
York, through Long Island Sound, with the Macedonian and Hornet. A
British squadron of superior force, however, compelled him to run into
the Thames River in Connecticut, and he lay off New London for months
unable to get to sea. He was naturally impatient at being thus cooped
up, and bitterly complained that traitors on shore, by means of "blue
lights," warned the enemy whenever at night he prepared to break out
of his imprisonment. He sent a challenge to Commander Sir Thomas Hardy
of the blockading squadron, offering to fight two of the British
frigates with two of his own, but the offer was declined and Decatur's
frigates were afterward dismantled.
Returning to New York, he assumed command of a squadron bound for the
East Indies, and put to sea in the President. January 14, 1815,
through the blunder of his pilot, his ship heavily grounded while
going out. The next morning, Decatur discovered the British squadron
in pursuit, consisting of the Majestic razee, the Endymion, Tenedos,
and Pomona frigates and a brig. Of these the Endymion was the
fleetest. After drawing her away from the rest, Decatur turned and
attacked her. She was crippled and her battery silenced, when the
American resumed her flight. By this time, however, the other ships
had come up and opened fire. Escape was impossible and Decatur
surrendered to the British squadron.
Returning to the United States under parole, he was despatched to the
Mediterranean, on the conclusion of peace, to punish the Algerine
pirates that were preying upon our commerce. He did his work
thoroughly and well, compelling the Dey to sign the most humiliating
treaty ever made with a Christian nation. He obtained similar redress
at Tunis and Tripoli.
Decatur was subsequently created Navy Commissioner and made his
residence in Washington at Kalorama, formerly occupied by Joel Benton.
Commodore Barron's suspension began February 8, 1808. He resorted to
the merchant service, and was abroad when war was declared. His
suspension terminated about eight months afterward, some time after
which he reported himself to the navy department, by letter, for duty,
the war continuing two years after his becoming available for command.
He did not return to the United States until the close of 1818. He
declared that he had used every effort to reach home before during
hostilities, but was prevented. A court, presided over by Captain
Charles Stewart, afterward declared its judgment that such effort had
not been made by Barron.
The latter felt resentful toward Decatur, and called him to account
for certain expressions he had been told were used by him reflecting
upon his conduct as an officer. When appealed to, Decatur, as Navy
Commissioner, declared that he held no personal enmity toward Barron;
he deemed it unjust to other officers of the navy that his request to
be restored to command should be granted.
Barron opened a sharp correspondence with Decatur, which continued
nearly a year. Mutual friends, or rather enemies, fanned the trouble
between them, which ended in a challenge from Barron which was
promptly accepted by Decatur. The duel took place at Bladensburg, on
the morning of March 22, 1820, Commodore Bainbridge was Decatur's
second, and Captain Jesse D. Elliott served Barron in a similar
capacity. Decatur chivalrously surrendered his right to name the
distance, which Barron made the shortest possible, eight paces, on
account of his defective eyesight. Decatur was without a superior as a
pistol shot, and, declaring that he did not wish the life of his
antagonist, said he would only wound him in the hip.
At the word "two," both fired so exactly together, that only one
report was heard. Barron was struck in the right hip, as Decatur
intended, and sank to the ground. Decatur stood erect a moment and was
seen to turn pale, compress his lips, and press his hand against his
side. Then he fell, the ball having passed through his abdomen.
"I am mortally wounded," he said, "and wish that it had been in the
defence of my country." His attendants helped him to his feet, and
started slowly toward the waiting carriage. His pain was so great that
after a few paces he sank exhausted, near where Barron was stretched
on the ground. While the two thus lay near each other, waiting to be
carried off, they shook hands, and each freely forgave the other.
Decatur was lifted into the carriage, which reached Washington at
half-past ten. He would not allow himself to be carried into his home
until his wife and two nieces were sent to the upper floor where they
could not see the dreadful sight. Wishing to save the distracted ones
from the grief of witnessing his suffering, he refused them permission
to enter the room where he lay.
The news caused consternation and sorrow in Washington, where no man
was more honored and loved than he. He thanked his friends for their
sympathy, told them he had not long to live, and signed his will. "I
am a dying man," said he, "and only regret that my wound was not
received on the quarter-deck in the service of my country."
When the surgeons proposed to probe for the bullet, he said it was not
worth while as it had done all the harm it could. He remarked that he
did not believe it possible for a person to suffer so much pain and
yet live. But not once did he utter a groan. His agony was beyond
description and did not cease until half-past ten, when he died.
It seemed as if the whole male population of Washington and the
adjacent county were present at the funeral, besides most of the
officers of the government, members of Congress, and resident foreign
ministers. The _National Intelligencer_, in an extra, said: "A hero
has fallen. Commodore Stephen Decatur, one of the first officers of
our navy, the pride of his country, the gallant and noble-hearted
gentleman, is no more. He expired a few minutes ago, of the mortal
wound received in the duel this morning. Mourn, Columbia! for one of
thy brightest stars is set! A son without fear and without reproach,
in the fulness of his fame, in the prime of his usefulness, has
descended into the tomb."
[Signature of the author.]