as well as courage; but they could be easily supplied from the American
squadron. It was intended to man and officer the Intrepid as far
as possible from the Enterprise; and in pursuance of this, on the
afternoon of the 3d of February, 1803, all hands on the Enterprise were
called up and aft. Decatur then stated the nature of the service for
which the Intrepid was destined,--a service of heroic possibilities
but appalling danger,--and then called for sixty-two volunteers.
Instead of sixty-two men, the whole ship's company down to the
smallest boy volunteered with a cheer. This was what any captain would
have desired, and Decatur was forced to make a choice. He selected
sixty-two of the youngest and most active men in the crew, who showed
their gratification by saying, "Thankee, sir," as each man was told
off. He could make no choice among his lieutenants, but took them
all--Lawrence, Joseph Bainbridge, and Thorn--and one of his midshipmen,
the indomitable Macdonough, the rest being necessarily left to take
care of the ship. He was compelled to make a draft of junior officers
from the Constitution, and asked for midshipmen Morris, Laws, Izard,
Davis, and Rowe. There was also a surgeon, Dr. Heermann, and Salvatore
Catalano, a Sicilian pilot, who, in return for his services, was made a
master in the American navy, and had an honorable career in it.
On the evening of the 3d of February the Intrepid sailed upon her
glorious expedition, accompanied by the Siren, whose character as
a ship of war was thoroughly concealed. The ketch was to pass for
a merchant vessel from Malta, and her officers had the costumes of
Maltese sailors in which to disguise themselves. The two vessels
reached the entrance to the harbor of Tripoli on the 9th of February,
but a terrific storm arose, which drove them off. For six days they
were storm-tossed in the gulf of Sydra, but on the 16th of February
they found themselves together again off Tripoli. The evening was mild
and beautiful, and the wind was so light that the Siren was almost
becalmed in the offing, but the Intrepid met a wandering breeze that
carried her within the rocky harbor. Once inside, a good breeze was
blowing, which swept them rapidly forward, and threatened to bring the
Intrepid up with the Philadelphia before it was quite dark enough to
do the work meant for her. As it would not do to excite suspicion by
taking in sail, Decatur had buckets and sails towed astern which acted
as a drag, and brought the ketch in very slowly. When Decatur noticed
that the Siren in the offing had no wind and consequently could be of
no assistance to him, he remarked cheerfully to his men, "Never mind;
the fewer the number the greater the glory."
The ketch sailed leisurely in, having the appearance of a merchant ship
from a Mediterranean port, after a considerable voyage.
The crew had been sent below, and only a few officers, disguised as
Maltese sailors, stood or sat about the deck. Before them lay the
Bashaw's castle, with its menacing battlements, and all around the
harbor was a chain of forts that could make a circle of fire for an
invader. Directly under the guns of the castle loomed the tall black
hull of the Philadelphia, flying the piratical flag of Tripoli, while
moored near her were three smaller cruisers and nineteen gunboats.
The moon had risen, and by its clear illumination the "infernal"
steered straight across the blue waters of the harbor for the
Philadelphia. When about two hundred yards off, Salvatore Catalano, the
pilot, hailed the Tripolitan officer of the deck on the Philadelphia,
who lounged over the rail smoking a long pipe.
"This is the ketch Stella, from Malta," he said in the _lingua franca_
of the East. "We lost our anchors and cables in the gale, and would
like to lie by you during the night."
"Your request is unusual, but we will grant it," answered the
Tripolitan officer.
The officer then asked what vessel it was that was lying in the offing.
The pilot, with much readiness, replied that it was the Transfer, a
cruiser lately bought from the British by the Tripolitan government,
and which was daily expected. This answer seemed to satisfy the
Tripolitan, and a boat then put off from the Philadelphia with a fast,
and at the same moment a boat also put off, under the command of
Lawrence, from the Intrepid. On meeting, Lawrence coolly took the fast
from the Tripolitan boat, and soon had the hawser aboard of the ketch.
A moment more and the supposed Maltese sailors, in their jackets and
red fezzes, roused on the hawser and breasted the ketch along under the
Philadelphia's quarter. Had the slightest suspicion been aroused then,
they would have been blown out of the water by a single broadside. But
the Americans retained their coolness in their desperate situation.
Presently the Intrepid drew out from the black shadow of the frigate's
hull into a great patch of white moonlight. The Tripolitans saw the
anchors on the deck, with the cables coiled around them. Instantly a
cry rang through the ship, "Americanos! Americanos!"
At the same moment the Intrepid came grinding up against the frigate's
stern quarter, and, as if by magic, was alive with men. Decatur
shouted, "Board!" and the Americans dashed at the frigate's deck.
Decatur, and two midshipmen, Morris and Laws, leaped at the same
moment into the chain plates. Decatur and Morris made a spring for
the rail; Decatur's foot slipped, else he would have been first upon
the Philadelphia's deck; but Morris, an agile young midshipman, was
a moment before him. Midshipman Laws dashed at a port, and would
have been before Morris in entering the ship, but the pistols in his
boarding-belt caught for a moment between the gun and the port, and he
was third to stand upon the deck. The rest of the Americans swarmed
into the ship.
The Tripolitans, completely surprised, yet fought desperately. They
had been accounted the best hand-to-hand fighters in the world, but
they were no match for the Americans. Within fifteen minutes every one
of them had been cut down or driven overboard, and the Philadelphia
was once more an American ship. Meanwhile lights had been moving about
on shore, and the vessels and forts saw that something was happening
on the Philadelphia, but not enough could be seen to justify them in
firing on their own ship. In a few minutes more, though, smoke was
pouring from the ports, and flames were running up her tar-soaked
rigging. The Americans, with almost incredible swiftness, had hoisted
powder aboard the ship and fired her in a dozen places. Two guns,
double-shotted, were dragged amidships and pointed down the main hatch
to blow her bottom out. They then leaped into the ketch; but at that
moment the most awful danger of that terrible yet glorious night
awaited them. The fast became jammed, and the jigger of the ketch
caught fire as it flapped against the burning frigate, while below,
on the Intrepid's deck, lay all her powder exposed. The officers,
undismayed however, drew their swords and hacked at the hawser until
it parted. Then, under sweeps and sails, the Intrepid made for the
offing, the men pulling for their lives, while the ships and forts, now
thoroughly aroused, opened all their batteries on this daring invader.
But the shot fell short, and raised only showers of spray, at which the
Americans laughed and jeered.
The Philadelphia was now ablaze from rail to truck, and sea and sky
were lighted up by the flames of the burning ship. Her guns began to
go off as the fire reached them, and she poured a cannonade from every
quarter. The ketch was plainly visible as she made rapidly for the
offing, and a hundred guns were trained on her. At this supreme moment
the Americans gave one last proof of their contempt of danger. The men
stopped rowing, and every officer and man, rising to his feet, gave
three thundering American cheers. Then they bent to their oars with
giant strokes, and in a little while were safe under the Siren's guns.
They had not lost a man in the glorious achievement.
The Siren, meanwhile, in the offing, had hoisted out her boats, and
was ready to assist the Intrepid, in case she needed it. The progress
of the ketch was plainly visible until she was lost in the shadow
of the Philadelphia's black hull. In a few minutes a single rocket
skyward showed the anxious watchers that the Philadelphia was boarded;
and almost at once the blaze rushed up the rigging, and enveloped
the tall hull, lighting up the night with a lurid glare, while the
guns of the doomed frigate and those of the castle, the ships, and
the forts thundered out. Then they knew that the great enterprise was
accomplished. The boats pulled toward the harbor entrance; soon the
ketch had shot across the illuminated water, and had reached them.
Decatur, jumping into one of the Siren's boats, was quickly pulled
toward the brig. Stewart, standing in the gangway, saw the boat
approach, and a man, in a sailor's round jacket and a fez, sprang over
the gangway, into his arms. It was Decatur.
Fifteen days after leaving Syracuse, the ketch and the brig were
seen standing in the harbor, the signal of success flying from the
Intrepid's masthead. For this splendid adventure Decatur was made a
post-captain, his commission dating from the 16th of February, and the
officers and men were rewarded.
Before, however, receiving his commission, Decatur was yet to do
glorious things in the bombardment of Tripoli during the following
summer. Commodore Preble, in arranging the boat attacks, which he
supported by the batteries of the "Old Ironsides," and all his brigs
and schooners, gave the command of the right division to Richard
Somers, Decatur's bosom friend, and the left division to Decatur. On
the 2d of August the first attack was made. The Tripolitans had a
flotilla of fourteen gunboats to resist the six the Americans could
muster; and they had, in reserve, behind the rocks in the harbor,
five more gunboats and several heavy galleys, besides their forts,
batteries, and larger clubs. The attack was begun about half past
one in the afternoon, the whole force standing in; the Constitution
approaching as close as possible and pouring in many broadsides against
the forts, the brigs and schooners supporting the gunboats, while the
latter dashed at the Tripolitan gunboats and galleys with a swiftness
and impetuosity that were simply tremendous. The attack soon assumed
a character of hand-to-hand fighting that is seldom seen in modern
days. Decatur's own vessel laid aboard a large Tripolitan gunboat,
and in spite of the most desperate resistance, grappled with her. She
was divided in the middle by a long narrow hatchway, and in this the
Tripolitans mustered to drive back the Americans when they entered.
Immediately Decatur was over the side, followed by his lieutenant, Mr.
Thorne, by Macdonough, and all the Americans in the gunboat's crew.
They advanced together with pikes and cutlasses, and then ensued a
contest, man to man, fighting every inch of the way, which resulted in
cutting down or driving overboard every Tripolitan officer and man.
Just as the Tripolitan ensign was hauled down, it was seen that James
Decatur, Decatur's younger brother, who was in command of another
gunboat and had carried her into action with great spirit, had fallen
by a shot from a Tripolitan which had surrendered and then basely
resumed firing. James Decatur was carried aboard the Constitution to
die, but it was no time to indulge in private griefs; and Decatur,
without knowing whether his brother were living or dead, turned
upon the next foe. This was another gun-vessel, which was commanded
by a gigantic Tripolitan, who seemed to court rather than avoid a
hand-to-hand contest with the Americans.
Decatur ran him aboard, and then with a cheer the Americans leaped into
the gunboat. Seeing the force with which they had to contend, Decatur
waited until his men could form a line. They then advanced resolutely,
led by their officers. They were greatly outnumbered, but by standing
together they made the most of their number. The Tripolitan captain and
Decatur soon met face to face. The Tripolitan, a much larger and more
powerful man than Decatur, stood on tiptoe to deal a more tremendous
blow. Decatur rushed at him with a pike. The Tripolitan wrenched the
pike from him, and raised it to strike. Decatur then drew his sword,
and in trying to parry the pike, the sword broke off at the hilt, and
the pike entered Decatur's breast. Pulling it out, he grappled with
the Tripolitan, and both came to the deck together. The Tripolitan
attempted to draw his dagger; but Decatur, firmly grasping his arm,
managed to get a small pistol from his pocket, and fired it. With a
scream the Tripolitan relinquished his hold and rolled over. As Decatur
rose to his feet, another Tripolitan raised his sword; as the blow was
about to descend on Decatur's head, Reuben James, a powerful young
sailor, threw up his arm, and took the blow, which almost severed his
arm from his body. The Americans were now beginning to get a little the
advantage; and by coolness and resolution they were soon enabled to
get possession of the gunboat. The Tripolitan loss showed the nature
of the fighting, fifty-two men being killed and wounded out of a total
of eighty in the two captured gunboats. The loss of the Americans
was relatively small, owing to their plan of standing together and
attacking as a body.[10]
Four more of these ferocious attacks, combined with a terrific
cannonade from the Constitution, and the assistance from the brigs and
schooners, lost the Tripolitans many of their most serviceable craft,
and made those that were left very shy of coming outside the reefs to
meet the "Americanos." The great guns on the Constitution had knocked
to pieces many of the more exposed land batteries, and brought down
the Bashaw's tone immeasurably. He was then anxious to negotiate,
but Commodore Preble would listen to nothing but the unconditional
surrender of Bainbridge and his men.
The loss of the Americans was small in numbers but great in value
during the bombardment, and was confined chiefly to the gunboats. In
the second attack, on the 7th of August, one of the American gunboats
blew up, killing her brave commander, Lieutenant Caldwell, and several
others. When the smoke cleared away after the awful explosion, it was
seen that the forward part of the vessel still floated. On it was the
long twenty-six-pounder, which was her chief weapon, and which the
gun's crew, directed by Midshipman Spence, had just loaded. With as
much coolness as if there had been a whole vessel instead of a half one
beneath them, the gun was fired, the eleven men on the wreck gave three
cheers, led by the midshipman, and then sprang into the water. All were
picked up, and fought during the rest of the action.
There was another attack on the 28th of August, and again on the 3d
of September. In this last the Constitution bore the brunt of the
Tripolitan fire, and did fearful execution with her heavy guns. And on
the 4th of September occurred the terrible tragedy of the blowing up of
the ketch Intrepid.[11]
The beginning of the autumn marked the end of the season for active
operations, and the American squadron withdrew, with a promise to
return the next season and do yet more damage,--a calamity which the
Bashaw avoided by promptly giving up the American prisoners the next
spring, when the Americans, true to their word, returned in greater
force. A relief squadron which had been sent out from the United
States arrived just at the close of the campaign before Tripoli. It
brought out Decatur's commission as a post-captain, as well as lesser
promotions for the other young commanding officers. Commodore Preble,
on being relieved by Commodore Barron, turned over the Constitution
to Decatur, who thus, at twenty-five, commanded what was probably
the finest frigate in the world. His rank, however, as the youngest
post-captain in the navy did not entitle him to keep her very long,
and he was transferred to the Congress, a smart thirty-eight-gun
frigate. She was in the squadron of Commodore Rodgers, which, after
the humbling of Tripoli, was engaged in bringing the Bey of Tunis to
terms. Commodore Rodgers sent Decatur, who was well known to the heads
of Barbary powers, to negotiate a treaty with Tunis. The Bey at first
refused to receive him. Decatur returned to his ship, which was cleared
for action, and sent a message saying that the Bey must decide at once
between war and peace. The Bey succumbed immediately, and not only
begged for peace, but asked that the Congress should convey a Tunisian
envoy to the United States. This was rather more than Decatur had
bargained for, particularly as he had to give up a part of his quarters
to the Tunisian envoy and his suite. But having succeeded rather better
than he expected, Decatur took the party on board and returned to the
United States, reaching home in 1805.
He was received with praise, admiration, and the highest personal and
official favor. He was given good commands, and a few years after
he had gone out to the Mediterranean to command a little twelve-gun
schooner, he again went out in command of a splendid squadron, his
broad pennant flying on the mighty Constitution. He was sent to demand
reparation from the Dey of Algiers for certain injuries to American
citizens. The American consul went in person to see the Dey, who sat
in state, looking through the open window at the formidable force
with which Decatur was prepared to enforce his demands. The consul
began by saying, significantly, that the squadron was commanded by
Commodore Decatur. The Dey, gravely combing his beard with a diamond
comb, said: "I know this Decatur. He is the man who burnt the frigate
at Tripoli. Hum! Why do the Americans send wild young men to treat with
old powers?" Nevertheless, he very promptly gave all the satisfaction
demanded by the "wild young man."
On the outbreak of hostilities with Great Britain in 1811-12, Decatur
got the command of the United States,--"Old Wagoner," the stanch and
weatherly frigate in which he had made his first cruise with his
beloved Somers. In her he made the second capture of a frigate in that
war, Hull having preceded him in the capture of the Guerrière by the
Constitution.
Off Madeira, on the 25th of October, the United States sighted the
Macedonian,[12] a magnificent thirty-eight-gun frigate, commanded by
Captain Carden. Decatur and Carden were personal friends, and before
the war broke out had often discussed the relative fighting powers of
their ships. Decatur's black servant had listened to these talks as
he stood behind his master's chair. Captain Carden frequently said,
"No, my dear Decatur. Your men are brave, but not experienced; and
when they meet a British ship of equal force, with the best intentions
to do their duty, they will not know how to fight." Cuffee remembered
this, and as soon as it was known on "Old Wagoner" that the approaching
frigate was the Macedonian, he very prudently retired to the lower
hold, and hid behind a hogshead.
The action began with the greatest spirit on both sides, the ships
keeping up a furious cannonade at close quarters, with a heavy sea
on and a good breeze blowing. The Americans showed great superiority
in gunnery, and although the British fought with a gallantry worthy
of British tars, and their officers nobly encouraged them by word
and example, in seventeen minutes from the time the first broadside
struck the Macedonian all was over, and her colors were hauled down.
She had suffered terribly, more than a third of her men being killed
and wounded. She lost so many men at the guns that the marines were
called upon to work the batteries. On the American ship only twelve men
were killed and wounded, and the marines during the whole battle were
drawn up in the waist of the ship, with nothing to do. This, however,
was much more trying than fighting, as they had to stand as if they
were on parade, while shot and shell screamed a few inches above their
heads. The men, however, showed the utmost steadiness, and acted as
well as looked as if they were merely at Sunday morning quarters. When
the Macedonian struck, it was plain from the way she was cut up that
she had made a good and gallant defence. As Captain Carden came over
the side, he offered his sword to Decatur, who refused to take it,
saying,--
"I cannot take the sword of a man who has so bravely defended his ship."
The solemn silence of the occasion was broken by Cuffee, who, the
danger being over, had crawled up out of the hold, and appeared upon
the quarterdeck at that moment, just in time to bawl out,--
"I say, Marse Carden, what you think now 'bout de way dem 'Mericans
fights!"
It was several weeks before the United States reached home, and during
that time Captain Carden was Decatur's guest in the cabin. Decatur's
first letter to his wife after the capture of the Macedonian says: "All
my pleasure is spoiled by poor Carden's sorrow;" for Captain Carden
knew nothing of the previous capture of the Guerrière and of the Java,
which followed shortly after, and thought himself to be the first
and only English captain who had surrendered his ship. On reaching
the United States, Decatur and his officers received the thanks of
Congress, and a gold medal for their gallant conduct.
Decatur had looked forward to another active cruise in "Old Wagoner,"
but he soon found himself penned up at New London by a large blockading
force. Decatur's impetuous nature fretted and chafed under this, and
in 1814, realizing the impossibility of the United States getting to
sea, he got command of the President, of forty-four guns, then lying
at New York. Decatur took command of her with bright anticipations.
New York bay was closely watched by British cruisers, but Decatur had
no fears that he should not be able to get out. Accordingly, on a dark
and stormy night in January, 1814, he picked up his anchor, and made
for the open sea; but before daylight the pilots had run the frigate
aground near Sandy Hook, where for an hour and a half she lay pounding
on the bar. She got off by the rising of the tide, but she was so
hagged and twisted that her back was nearly broken, her masts sprung,
and her sailing qualities so impaired that she stood but a small chance
of escape should she fall in with an enemy. Unable by reason of the
wind to return to New York for repairs, the President proceeded to
sea, and by daylight found herself surrounded by a British squadron,
consisting of the Majestic, razee, and the Endymion, of forty guns, and
the Tenedos and Nymph, light frigates. Then began a fight as well as a
race for life, which lasted thirty hours. The Endymion got near enough
for a bloody contest, in which she was badly crippled and left behind,
the President making a desperate though lame attempt at flight from her
antagonists. But it was in vain. The Tenedos and Nymph gained on her,
and it was soon known to all on board that the President was a doomed
ship. Three of her five lieutenants lay dead upon her decks, while
among the mortally wounded was Midshipman Richard Dale, son of the
famous Commodore Dale, of Revolutionary fame. The killed and wounded
among the crew were numerous, and Decatur himself received a painful
injury.
His people, who had never seen him except in the light of triumph and
success, were curious to observe how he would stand impending defeat.
But never was he calmer and cooler. At one time, seeing he could
handle the Endymion alone, he formed the desperate plan of boarding
her, transferring his people to her, and abandoning the President.
The proposition was received with cheers. One of his youngest
midshipmen,[13] a lad of fourteen, said out aloud, in Decatur's
hearing,--
"I never can get over the side of that ship, as small as I am."
"Oh, yes, you can," replied Decatur, smiling. "I will pick you up and
throw you over myself."
The Endymion, seeing that the President must be shortly overpowered by
the rest of the squadron, very sensibly refused to close, and fell out
of the chase in a helpless condition, every sail being shot away from
her.