Decatur and Somers

by Molly Elliot Seawell

“And when he got back to Tripoli the Bashaw rode him through the town on a jackass and gave him the bastinado,” added Somers.

Scarcely were the words out of the young captain’s mouth before the supposed Sicilian made a dash at him, and, as in a flash, both Somers and Decatur realized that they were caught in a trap. Decatur, whose powerful frame made him a match for two ordinary men, turned and grappled with Mahomet Rous, and the two men rolled over, fighting together on the ground. Somers, with his back to the wall, was set upon by the three; but at that moment the two young midshipmen, hearing the clash of swords in the darkness, rushed forward. Macdonough went to Somers’s assistance, while Pickle Israel, seeing Decatur struggling desperately with the Tripolitan pirate, drew his dirk, and with one well-directed blow pinned the arm of Mahomet Rous to the earth. Decatur, thus freed, rose. The other brigands were being well taken care of by Somers and Macdonough, and seeing Decatur on his feet, concluded they had had enough of it, and took to their heels, disappearing quickly among the shadows of the stunted ilex trees. Mahomet Rous, half killed by Decatur’s powerful arm, lay on the ground swearing frightfully at all “Americanos.” The people from the tavern, hearing the noise of the brawl, came out with lanterns and torches; but the four young officers, glad to escape from such an adventure, ran down the mountain path as fast as their legs would carry them. As soon as they reached the outskirts of the town they stopped for breath, and to repair damages as far as they could. While Pickle Israel was industriously rubbing the mud off Decatur’s back he could not forbear saying, with a mischievous grin:

“Well, Captain Decatur, I—I—believe we did manage to look out for you and Captain Somers.”

“You did, indeed,” answered Decatur, laughing. “That dirk of yours did good service. You left it sticking in the pirate’s arm, but I’ll give you another one that will always be a reminder of this night.—Somers, we shall have to learn from these cautious reefers how to take care of ourselves.”

“We will indeed,” answered Somers gravely.

Macdonough was old enough not to take this chaff seriously, but Pickle fairly swelled with pride as he marched along through the town at the heels of the two young captains.

The general plans of Decatur’s expedition were now known among the American officers and privately discussed. “Old Pepper” gave Decatur one last warning.

“You may dream, Captain Decatur, that you could bring out a frigate of the Philadelphia’s draft through that tortuous harbor at night, under the fire of every battery in the town, of the castle, and the whole fleet in the harbor. Very well, sir; if you attempt it and get out alive, you shall be sent home at once under charges; for, look you, Captain Decatur, it is as dangerous to do too much when you are under my orders as it is to do too little.”

Decatur very wisely held his tongue, and realized that the destruction of the ship was all he could aim at.

It was known that a draft of officers was to be made from the Constitution, and the wildest excitement prevailed in the steerage, where every midshipman thought himself cocksure of being one of the lucky ones to go. Pickle Israel, in his anxiety to curry favor with Decatur, who had the selection of the officers, stopped at nothing. At the same time he felt convinced—from his prowess on the night of the adventure with the brigands, and from Decatur’s present to him of a beautiful dirk to replace the lost one—that he would undoubtedly be permitted to go. Whenever Decatur came on board the Constitution, the first object he would see would be Pickle, who would bow to the deck and make the most insinuating inquiries about his health. Decatur was sure to find Pickle, cap in hand, at every turn. The other midshipmen saw through it, and determined to get a “rig” on Pickle. One day, at dinner, therefore, Laws, one of the older midshipmen, casually remarked that he had seen Captain Decatur on shore that day with a box of frogs and lizards. “And you know,” said he, turning half round so that Pickle might not see him winking at the rest, “Captain Decatur has a craze for frogs and lizards. He’s making a collection to take home with him. I gave him a tree-toad to-day, and you’d have thought from the way he thanked me that I had given him a forty-four-gun frigate. The fellows that want to go on the Intrepid can take the hint.”