The Americans formed a line from one side of the ship to the other, and, with Decatur as leader, swept everything before them on the main deck. On the gun deck, Lawrence and McDonough did the same thing. In fifteen minutes, every Tripolitan had been cut down or driven overboard. In spite of the close, sharp fighting, not one of our men received a scratch.
But now comes the tug of war! Every man knows exactly what to do, for he has been well drilled. Some hand up kegs of powder and balls of oakum soaked in tar. Others carry these along the deck and down below. Now they drag two eighteen-pounders amidships, double-shot them, and point them down the main hatch, so as to blow out the bottom of the ship. In a few minutes everything is ready.
"Start the fires!" A puff of smoke, a little blaze, then flames everywhere!
Quick and sharp comes the order to leap aboard the ketch. Decatur, sure that the work thus far is well done, is the last man to leave.
| The Burning of the Philadelphia |
Now all are safe aboard the Intrepid. The order is given to cast off. The ketch still clings to the blazing frigate, from whose portholes the flames are shooting out. The gunpowder left on the deck is covered only with canvas. Life is in peril. They find that the stern rope has not been cast off. Up rush Decatur and his officers, and cut the hawser with their swords. The boat swings clear, and the men row for their lives.
The fierce flames of the burning ship bring the Intrepid into plain view. She is a target for every gun. Bang! bang! thunder a hundred cannon.
"Stop rowing, boys, and give 'em three cheers," shouts Decatur.
Everybody is on his feet in an instant, and joins in the hurrahs.
Solid shot, grape, and shells whistle and scream in the air above the little ketch, and throw up showers of spray as they strike the water. Only one shot hits, and that whizzes through the mainsail. The men bend to their oars and pull for dear life. They are soon well out of range, and, in a short time, safe under the guns of the Siren.