Chapter I: Act I: In the Mediterranean

SCENE I. ENTER THE “CONSTITUTION”

On a September day in 1803 an American frigate bowled along the rocky Spanish coast toward Gibraltar. From her bluff bows curled back a foamy wave. Above the blue waters rose a gracefully proportioned black hull. Around it, halfway up from the water line, ran a broad white stripe. This was broken at regular intervals by the dark squares of the gun ports. Spars tapered aloft. White rectangles of billowing canvas completed a picture of beauty unsurpassed on the Seven Seas. Such was the United States ship _Constitution_. Joshua Humphreys, naval constructor, had done his work well.

Watchers on the famous Rock might have noted, had the beauty of this strange ship gained their full attention, that from the mizzen truck flew the broad blue pennant of a commodore. His name was then unknown. It is not too well known even now. But as time passes the conviction grows that Edward Preble should be classed in the first rank of our naval commanders. He was soon to prove that he was every inch a commodore. His pennant flew from a splendid ship, but one which had as yet no tradition of victory. Edward Preble was to begin that long series of successful cruises and spectacular sea fights which was to endear “Old Ironsides” to every American.

Countless ships for countless years had passed these far-famed Pillars of Hercules. Some had sailed on errands of peace, but most on the grim business of war. Phoenician traders had sailed out northward to Britain for cargoes of its precious tin. Carthaginian merchants under Hanno had ventured far down the Atlantic coast of Africa. Scipio Africanus with his legions had come this way to complete the conquest of Spain. Moorish galleys had ferried to Europe those fierce Moslem horsemen who overran the Iberian Peninsula and fought for world empire on the battlefields of France. Norse sea kings had sailed on through to Sicily and Constantinople. Stout De Ruyter and his Dutch seamen had followed in their track to make his last campaign in the blue waters of the Mediterranean. And only five years before the greatest sea captain of them all, a certain Horatio Nelson, had hastened by to match his wits with a General Bonaparte and annihilate his fleet at the mouth of the Nile.

The entry of Edward Preble in a Yankee frigate into the great sea which had supported so many war fleets seemed doubtless at that time utterly devoid of historical significance. But now, as we look back over a century and a quarter, it takes on a new importance. It was to bring our young Navy to a new plane of efficiency. It was to demonstrate to Americans in a striking manner the value of an efficient naval service. It was to establish our Navy as a permanent American institution. And, what is more, it signaled to watchful eyes abroad the rise of a new sea power. It indicated, not only to African pirates, but also to astute European statesmen, that this American Republic had become a factor they would have to reckon with in framing their diplomatic policies.

We believe that, as much as any other man of that era, it was bold and forceful Edward Preble who gave the United States that initial impulsion along the path of astounding prosperity, unparalleled commercial power, and world-wide influence.

For two years we had been at war with the Moslem principalities which lined the Mediterranean coast of Africa. For many years before that, their piratical craft had captured our merchant ships and sold their crews into slavery. We had first begged and then bribed these pirates to desist from piracy. And, finally, after all diplomatic measures had failed, that task was given the Navy. That service had been in existence only a few years. It was, we must confess, not properly prepared to conduct a difficult campaign so far from its home bases. So two years of desultory fighting had accomplished little. In despair, our statesmen had descended again to the artifices of bribery. But, fortunately for us, the piratical chieftains did not think our offers worth their while. So the Navy was given a final chance and Edward Preble the command. The backbone of his squadron were the fine frigates _Constitution_ and _Philadelphia_. For inshore work there were the brigs _Argus_ and _Siren_ and the schooners _Enterprise_, _Nautilus_, and _Vixen_. It is true that seven ships constituted a small force to keep in good humor Morocco, Algiers, and Tunis and bring to a favorable conclusion the war with Tripoli. But the ships were all finely commanded, well officered, and manned with the best sailors in the world. The ships themselves were well built, adequately equipped, and completely stored for a long campaign. So it was with high hopes that Preble commenced his difficult task—one, it may be added, which had baffled Cardinal Ximenes, Charles V, Andrea Doria, Blake, De Ruyter, and Duquesne.

SCENE II. EXIT THE “PHILADELPHIA”

An effective demonstration off Tangiers soon cooled the ardor of the Sultan of Morocco. He reconfirmed the old and highly favorable treaty of 1786. One potential enemy had been removed. On now for Syracuse, the naval base from which our campaign against Tripoli was being conducted.

Off the coast of Sardinia the _Constitution_ hailed H.M.S. _Amazon_, a frigate attached to the squadron of Lord Nelson. From her Preble received “the melancholy and distressing intelligence of the loss of the U.S. ship _Philadelphia_.” Here, Commodore, is a problem which will put to the test all your intelligence and stoutness of heart.

At Syracuse Preble learned the full extent of the disaster. The fine frigate had been run aground off Tripoli. Captain Bainbridge, discouraged by his ill fortune, had surrendered too quickly. Three hundred and fifteen of our officers and men had been led ashore in triumph. In his haste Bainbridge had not even taken effective measures to destroy his own ship. She was floated and brought into the harbor of Tripoli. Her guns were fished out of the water and remounted. She was manned with a strong Tripolitan crew. Thus she contributed to the strength of the defenses, and constituted a threat to every merchant vessel in the Mediterranean. Gloomy were the thoughts of poor Bainbridge as he viewed these developments from his prison window.

Preble was not the man to worry over past disasters. He was concerned with future successes. How could he counteract, in part at least, the loss of the _Philadelphia_? There was no direct method for rescuing the crew. But there might be a chance to regain the ship, or at least destroy her so that the enemy could not use her. Bainbridge, through the connivance of the Danish consul at Tripoli, had suggested that she be attacked by a party of men secreted in the hold of a merchant vessel. The capture of a Tripolitan ketch provided the means of carrying through this daring plan. The next essential item was a cool and daring commander.

The commodore invited to this post of honor and danger Lieutenant Stephen Decatur, then in command of the _Enterprise_. To this young officer might well be applied a sentence from Plutarch: “Being ever thirsty after honor, and passionate for glory, if anything of a greater or extraordinary nature was to be done, he was eager to be the doer of it himself.” Decatur eagerly accepted his commodore’s invitation.

Once the squadron got wind of the venture and of the commander selected, there was no lack of volunteers. Decatur naturally gave first choice to the people in his own ship. Five of her officers and sixty-two of her sailors shifted over to the ketch. This was formally commissioned and appropriately renamed _Intrepid_. Five midshipmen from the _Constitution_ completed the complement. Last, but by no means least, was a brave Sicilian pilot, Salvador Catalano.

Edward Preble took upon himself full responsibility for the hazardous enterprise. “It is my order,” he wrote Decatur, “that you proceed to Tripoli, in company with the _Siren_, Lieutenant Stewart; enter the harbor in the night; board the _Philadelphia_; burn her; and make good your escape.” The courage it requires to write such an order is seldom appreciated. If the expedition had failed, as certainly it looked very probable, all the blame would have fallen on Preble. He would have been accused of sending officers and men to their death while he remained in safety. And, if the attack should succeed, the credit and honor would belong to Decatur. But Preble was not guarding his own interests. He was striving to further those of the Navy and the country.

For two weeks the _Intrepid_ was battered about by a succession of storms. On this little craft, much smaller than a submarine chaser, seventy-four men were crowded. Their sufferings can scarcely be imagined. But at last the weather moderated and the long-awaited opportunity was at hand. As a reënforcement Midshipman Anderson and nine sailors rowed over in one of the _Siren’s_ cutters. This was towed astern of the _Intrepid_. She started in.

The sea now was smooth. The wind lulled slowly to a calm. As night came on, a young moon, the enemy’s emblem, diffused a gentle light over the phosphorescent waters. Wary Odysseus might have turned back his prow at sight of such an unfavorable omen, but not all the gods on Olympus could have turned back Stephen Decatur that night.

Slowly and silently steals the _Intrepid_ toward the harbor entrance. This cold wintry night there are no vessels on patrol. Only irregular ranks of jagged rocks keep watch. The moonlight discloses these ever present sentinels. The ship passes through.

Quietly there on deck stand Decatur, Catalano, and ten seamen—all disguised as Sicilians. Close down behind the bulwarks crouch the remainder of the crew. Ahead looms up the great hulk of the _Philadelphia_. Her foremast has not been replaced, but the main and mizzenmasts, with their network of rigging, trace a spider web of black against the dull red glare of the city’s lights. Fifteen gaping gun ports are dotted with the muzzles of frowning 18-pounders, loaded, shotted, and ready to be touched off. High overhead towers the dark mass of the Bashaw’s castle, its embrasures filled with one hundred and fifteen cannon.

The frigate’s bell rings out the hour. It is ten-thirty in the evening watch. Her sentinel hails. Catalano answers with long-rehearsed lines. He has lost his anchors. May he not secure alongside the frigate for the night? The answer is, “Yes.” Lawrence lowers a small boat. With a line from the _Intrepid_ he pulls for the frigate’s bows. Quickly he secures his end to the fore chains. At the other end crouching seamen haul away.

Watchers on the frigate, if they had not been too sleepy, might have wondered at the hidden power which draws the little craft so steadily upon her prey. It is not until she is almost alongside that they see the crowd of men on her decks. “Americanos!” yells the sentinel. But now it is too late. Another pull brings the _Intrepid_ alongside. Then rises a confused din as her crew begin a wild scramble for the honor of being the first over the enemy’s side. Decatur trips on his scabbard. Morris passes him. Over the high bulwarks, sword in teeth, he disappears. Lieutenants, midshipmen, sailors follow him. Here have ceased the privileges of rank. Those of courage begin.

Surprise has won the day. There is no resistance on the upper decks. The startled enemy dive over the side or scuttle below. Wild Americanos or hungry sharks—what a choice to have to make! Some twenty Tripolitans fall before the former. How many succumb to the latter we may only guess. In twenty minutes the ship is everywhere ablaze. As the flames shoot up the guns ashore fire on the clearly illuminated target. Back into the ketch our sailors spring. Lines are cut with battle-axe and cutlass, just in time to evade the outrushing flames. Out ring three good American cheers above the crackling roar of fire and the thunder of cannonade.

The flames now have mounted the frigate’s rigging turning night into day. The _Intrepid_ is clearly disclosed to the enemy gunners. From every direction shot converge on the little ship. Out are run sixteen great sweeps. Strong men, willing galley slaves for an hour, double-bank their handles. Their long blades churn the waters into foam. Away she races through the shell splashes.

Thus ended with complete success what Lord Nelson called the most bold and daring act of the age. When, three days later, the _Intrepid_ sailed through the American squadron in Syracuse, each ship gave Decatur and his men a deafening salute of cheers. What music to a sailor’s ears!

SCENE III. PREBLE ATTACKS TRIPOLI

As spring came on the commodore pushed his preparations for a naval attack on Tripoli. He now had only one large ship, the _Constitution_. There were five brigs and schooners. A captured Tripolitan brig, commissioned as the _Scourge_, made a sixth. Preble knew that these ships could not get in close enough to the enemy to win the decisive results he was determined to have. So he borrowed six gunboats, two bomb vessels, and ninety-six sailors from the King of Naples. Even with this reënforcement, Preble had but one thousand and sixty men to attack a strongly fortified town defended by twenty-five thousand soldiers and sailors. Still his hopes for success were high.

Early in August, 1804, the orders for a grand attack were issued. This was to be no distant cannonade. The _Constitution_ was to attack the batteries at point-blank range. The gunboats were to board the enemy flotilla. The bomb vessels were to toss their 13-inch grenades into the town.

The Bashaw, as the Tripolitan ruler was called, saw that a storm was about to break over his head. In addition to formidable batteries ashore, he had twenty-one gunboats. These were manned by from twenty-four to forty men. Each carried one large and two small guns. We must not mistake these Tripolitans. They were splendid seamen and fierce fighters. Boarding was their usual method of attack. Nine of their gunboats were stationed outside the reefs east of the harbor entrance. Five were under the powerful batteries to the westward. The remainder lay inside the harbor in reserve.

At two o’clock in the afternoon of August 3, the flagship displayed the long-awaited signal for attack. Our six gunboats, under Decatur, were to attack the nine Tripolitan craft east of the harbor. Only three of his detachment, for various reasons, reached the enemy. Now three against nine were big odds. But, thought our young fellows, the bigger the odds the greater the glory. And they had Stephen Decatur—himself worth a couple of gunboats—to lead them. He, like the Spartans, “was not wont to ask how many but where, the enemy were!”

So Decatur led the charge. He made for a large gunboat armed with a huge 29-pound cannon and two howitzers. Her crew, as we learned later, numbered thirty-six. Decatur also has one cannon, a long 24-pounder. He sails in close until he can see the white of their eyes. Then he fires. A hail of grapeshot sweeps the enemy’s deck. As the two ships crash together our boarders are away. For a few minutes the fight is furious. But American pikes and cutlasses are irresistible. When only five of their people remain unwounded the Moors cry for quarter. Here is a victory, decided, as the old saying goes, by push of pike.

Meanwhile Sailing Master Trippe is having a bad quarter of an hour. He runs his gunboat alongside another enemy ship. Boarding is the order of the day. That is a good way for Americans, as well as Tripolitans, to fight. Trippe springs into the enemy gunboat. Midshipman Henley and nine sailors follow. Then the ships drift apart. Here now is a situation. Trippe sees that, being too weak for defense, it is necessary to attack. He lunges at the enemy captain with his pike. The Tripolitan is a good swordsman, and his scimitar is sharp. He rains blows on Trippe’s chest and shoulders—wounds him eleven times in all. But the sailing master gets in one effective thrust with his pike, and this more than evens up matters. Another Moor, whose cutlass is descending on Trippe’s head from behind, is bayoneted by Marine Sergeant Jonathan Meredith. Having lost their captain and twenty of their comrades, the remaining Tripolitans now surrender.

To cap the climax, Decatur boarded a third enemy gunboat, somewhat smaller than his first prize. Here occurred that famous hand-to-hand combat between Decatur and the gigantic Moorish captain. The devotion of Seaman Daniel Frazier, and his own coolness gave Decatur victory. All but three of the enemy were killed or wounded before they would surrender. This was real schooling for a young Navy.

Lieutenant Richard Somers, bravest of the brave, had not been able to join Decatur. So single-handed he attacked the five enemy craft west of the entrance. “They still advanced to within pistol-shot,” Somers wrote, “when they wore round and stood for the batteries. I pursued them until in musket shot of the batteries, which kept up a continued fire of round shot and grape.” That was how Somers fought.

The _Constitution’s_ heavy battery, reënforced by six Neapolitan 29-pounders, had been engaging these same batteries at point-blank range. Several times she was brought within four hundred yards of the rocky coast of which no chart was available. The bomb vessels had launched a quantity of their huge 13-inch shells into the city, but many of them did not explode. At four-thirty the wind shifted and a withdrawal was signaled. Preble covered it in great style. “Tacked ship,” he wrote, “and fired two broadsides in stays, which drove the Tripolitans out of the castle and brought down the steeple of a mosque.”

This three-hour battle had proved highly successful. But do you think the commodore was contented? Admiral Gleaves tells how, after the battle, Decatur came on board the _Constitution_ to make his report. Approaching Preble on the quarter-deck, he said: “Sir, I have the honor to report that I have captured three of the enemy’s gunboats.” “Three, Sir!” replied the commodore, “where are the rest of them?” This incident well illustrates the inflexible character of Edward Preble. In his official report, however, he was careful to express complete satisfaction with the manner in which his subordinates had conducted their attacks.

As the summer wore on four more attacks were made. All were conducted with great gallantry. They were not made without loss, for the Tripolitans always gave us a good fight. Pirates though they were, we must give them credit where due. The last attack, conducted at night, was particularly effective. On that occasion, “to draw off the enemy’s attention and amuse them while the bombardment was being kept up,” the _Constitution_ fired eleven thunderous broadsides at point-blank range.

In the fall Preble returned home. During his year of command not a court-martial had been ordered nor a duel fought. Among the many letters of congratulation he received was a unique tribute from the Pope: “The American commander, with a small force and in a short space of time, has done more for the cause of Christianity than the most powerful nations of Christendom have done for ages.” His countrymen received the returning commodore with every honor. Congress voted him a gold medal. The Navy had again come into its own. And the _Constitution_, now a veteran of five battles, had firmly established her reputation as a lucky and successful ship.

Thus ends the first act of our drama. Eight years pass before the second begins.