William Bainbridge.
From an engraving by Edwin.
By 11 o’clock, with only her topsails and courses set, the Philadelphia was bowling along at eight knots an hour. The bow guns were already throwing shot at the flying corsair and almost reaching him, while the walls of the city rose scarcely three miles away. The three men who were in the chains heaving the lead had called eight fathoms of water with drawling regularity for some time, when one man suddenly cried out seven fathoms, and fifteen seconds later another but six and a half.
Instantly the helm was thrown hard over and the ship came up to the wind, headed for the open sea, and then with a shock that threw many of her crew to the deck, she struck the reef. The bow rose six feet out of the water, while the cordage and masts creaked and groaned under the tremendous strain.
For a moment the crew looked about in silence, and then the voice of the captain was heard calling for lead-lines over the bow and stern. It was found that there was but twelve feet of water forward and seventeen aft. A boat was lowered and a party sent to sound around the ship. They found that she had left the channel when the helm was put down. Thereat every sail was set aback; anchors and guns were thrown overboard forward or run aft to reduce the load at the bow. Even the foremast was cut away, but all to no purpose. She was hard and fast ashore.
Meantime the enemy’s gunboats had come out and opened fire on the grounded frigate. The Americans replied with such few guns as could be brought to bear, but eventually the tide ebbed, and the Philadelphia keeled over until nothing could be done in her defence. So the magazine was flooded, the pumps were disabled, holes were bored through her bottom, and at 5 o’clock her flag was hauled down.
For some time the Tripolitans held aloof, fearing the sort of treachery they were accustomed to among themselves, but as night fell they boarded and plundered everything and everybody in sight. Even the clothing was stripped from many of the crew.
In all, 315 men surrendered. Among the officers was Lieutenant Porter, already mentioned; Jacob Jones, James Biddle, and James Renshaw, who, though now prisoners, were to help make history in notable fashion in another war to come.
Two days later a strong wind from the north piled the water of the Mediterranean high on the reef. The stern of the Philadelphia floated, anchors and cables were put out astern, and having stopped up the holes the Americans had bored, and having brought a strain on the cables, the corsairs hauled her off, and she was towed to an anchorage under the Bashaw’s castle. And more than that, the Tripolitans succeeded in getting up and replacing the guns, anchors, and most of the shot that had been thrown overboard to lighten her.
That Bainbridge was eventually honorably acquitted when tried by court-martial for losing his ship, scarcely need be said.