The Boys of 1812 and Other Naval Heroes

by James Russell Soley

When Preble returned to Syracuse after this visit to Malta, he had completed his plan for the destruction of the "Philadelphia." Lieutenant Decatur, of the "Enterprise," had volunteered to command the expedition; and although he was very young, and had been only five years at sea, no better man could have been chosen than this gallant and true-hearted officer. He was to take the "Intrepid," whose Tripolitan rig would make a good disguise, and whose small size would enable her safely to navigate those dangerous waters, and with seventy-five officers and men to attack the frigate. The "Siren" was to go with him to support and cover his retreat. It was a perilous enterprise; almost rash, one would think, for the "Philadelphia" was lying fully armed and manned in the inner harbor, under the guns of the Pasha's castle and all the neighboring forts, and around her lay the galleys of the enemy's flotilla. Decatur took three other lieutenants, Lawrence, Joseph Bainbridge, whose brother was in prison in Tripoli, and Thorn; and six midshipmen were told off to go with them. Among these last were Thomas McDonough, who afterward won the great battle of Lake Champlain in the war with Great Britain, and Charles Morris, who in the same war was first lieutenant of the "Constitution" in her fight with the "Guerrière." Morris was at this time a boy of nineteen; and I shall tell the story of the attack as nearly as may be in his words.

A Maltese pilot, Catalano, who knew the harbor of Tripoli, and who could speak the language, had been engaged to go with the expedition. When the two vessels arrived off Tripoli, the wind was fresh and the sky lowering, and all seemed to threaten a storm. The "Siren" and "Intrepid" anchored under cover of the night, and Morris and the pilot were sent in with a boat to see if the passage to the harbor was safe, of which the pilot was doubtful. They found the surf breaking in a long line of foaming waves across the entrance, and Morris coming back reported that it would be dangerous to make the attempt. "It was a severe trial," said the poor boy, "to make such a report. I had heard many of the officers treat the doubts of the pilot as the offspring of apprehension, and the weather was not yet so decidedly boisterous as to render it certain that an attempt might not be made, notwithstanding our report; should such be the case, and should it succeed, the imputations upon the pilot might be repeated upon me, and, unknown as I was, might be the cause of my ruin in the estimation of my brother officers." Still, in spite of their murmurs of dissatisfaction, Morris, being a brave and independent lad, stood firm in his opinion, and the attempt was given up.

It was well that this was done; for before morning a furious gale had come up, and the ships, with difficulty getting away from the shore, were driven far to the eastward. For six days the storm continued, the officers and men being all this time cooped up in the little ketch with hardly room to breathe, and overrun with vermin which the slaves had left behind them. The midshipmen slept on the top of the water-casks on the lower deck, while the sailors were berthed in the same way in the hold.

At last the wind abated, and on the 16th of February the ships were once more in sight of Tripoli. The breeze was light and the sea smooth, and the "Intrepid" stood in slowly toward the town. The "Siren" stayed outside to lull suspicion; but in spite of all precautions she was seen and noticed from the harbor. The plan was for the "Siren's" boats to come in after dark and join in the attack. All through the afternoon the "Intrepid" kept on sailing slowly in, her drags in the water astern checking her headway so that she might not reach the town too early. Her crew remained below, that no suspicion might be roused by the unusual numbers, and only six or eight, dressed as Maltese, were allowed to come on deck. As the sun went down, the breeze grew fainter; and Decatur, fearing that if he delayed longer he might not be able with the light wind to reach the frigate, decided that he would not wait for the "Siren's" boats, saying to his officers, like Henry V. at Agincourt, "The fewer the number, the greater will be the honor."

It was now dark, and the lights could be seen glittering in the houses of the town and on the boats in the harbor, throwing bright reflections over the water. The last preparations were made on board the "Intrepid," and the officers, speaking in low tones, told each man once more his allotted duties, and cautioned all to steadiness and silence. The watchword for the night was "Philadelphia," by which they were to recognize one another in the confusion of the attack. There was no need to enjoin silence, for each man was busy with his own thoughts. "My own," said Morris, "were now reverting to friends at home, now to the perils we were about to meet. Should I be able to justify the expectations of the former by meeting properly the dangers of the latter?" These thoughts, mixed with calculations to get a good place in boarding, were passing through the minds of all as they waited in breathless expectation.

Gradually the "Intrepid" was borne along by the gentle breeze toward the inner basin. Her boat was towed astern. The young moon gave light enough to show her movements, but nothing could be seen upon her deck except Decatur and the pilot standing at the wheel, and here and there a man whose Maltese cap and jersey gave no indication of his hostile character. From end to end of the little ship the rest of the crew, crouching under the shadow of the bulwarks, were lying concealed from view, each man with his eye fixed on Decatur, waiting for him to give the order. Before them could be seen the white walls of the city and the forts.

"THE LIGHTS COULD BE SEEN GLITTERING IN THE HOUSES."

The first battery is now passed in silence, every man holding his breath. Right in the path of the "Intrepid" towers the "Philadelphia," with her great black hull and lofty spars, and around her lies the circle of batteries. The little craft speeds on noiselessly, steering directly for the frigate. Suddenly the anxious silence is broken by a hail from the enemy demanding the name and purpose of the ketch, and ordering her to keep away. Among the officers and men stretched on the deck can be seen the eager movements of heads bending forward to hear the colloquy. The pilot, speaking the language of the country, answers for Decatur, who prompts him in low tones. He says that he has lost his anchors in the gale,—which, as it happened, was the truth,—and asks to be allowed to run a hawser to the frigate and to ride by her during the night. To this the captain of the "Philadelphia" consents, and the ketch is approaching, when suddenly the wind shifts, blowing lightly from the ship, and leaves the "Intrepid" at rest not twenty yards away, motionless under the enemy's guns.