The details of the attack were worked out most carefully. Besides the powder, the Intrepid was to carry a large stock of splintered wood; and about two hundred shells, with their fuses prepared, were laid on her decks, to add their horrors to the explosion. The brave adventurers had two chances for their lives, in having two boats in which to escape from the ketch. One of them was a very fast four-oared boat from Somers's own vessel, the Nautilus, and the other was a six-oared cutter from the Constitution. Somers was to be in his own boat, while Lieutenant Henry Wadsworth[16] commanded the Constitution's cutter. Ten sailors were to be taken along, making twelve persons in all; but the number was increased to thirteen by a little midshipman, Joseph Israel, who smuggled himself into the Constitution's boat.
Somers had consulted at every step his bosom friend Decatur, and Charles Stewart, with whom he had begun his naval life in "Old Wagoner." Decatur, in his own vessel, the Argus, and Lieutenant-Commandant Smith, of the Vixen, and Somers's vessel, the Nautilus, under the command of his first lieutenant, Washington Reed, were to support the dauntless party in the boats as far as possible.
Everything being ready, on the day after the desperate boat attack of the 3d of September, in the afternoon, Somers appeared on the deck of his vessel, and, having the crew piped up, addressed them, telling frankly the hazardous nature of the attempt he was to make, and calling for four volunteers who would go with him to advance one step ahead of the line. For answer, every man and boy on the Nautilus advanced two steps. This brave spirit was deeply gratifying to Somers, and he was forced to make a selection. He chose four of his best seamen,—James Simms, Thomas Tompline, James Harris, and William Keith.
On the Constitution the same spirit was shown, and Lieutenant Wadsworth selected the six men he needed from the hundreds who were eager to go. The Constitution's sailors were William Harrison, Robert Clark, Hugh McCormick, Jacob Williams, Peter Renner, and Isaac Downes. The names of these humble men deserve to be recorded, for each one was worthy to do, to dare, and to die with his officers,—Somers, Wadsworth, and Israel.
When the last preparations were made, on the afternoon of September 4, 1804, and the men were assembled on the Nautilus's deck, with the boats lowered, Somers addressed the ten sailors. He told them that he wanted no man with him who would not rather be blown up than surrender to the Tripolitans. The men responded with a cheer; and it was found that each one had privately asked Somers for the dangerous honor of applying the match when the time for the explosion came. They then said good-bye to their shipmates, and indicated what they wished done with their belongings if they should never return. Somers was accompanied to the Intrepid by Decatur and Stewart, who remained with him until the dusk of the September evening warned them that the solemn hour had come. On parting from them, Somers, who was as tranquil as ever, took a ring from his finger, and, breaking it in three parts, gave one piece to Decatur, one to Stewart, and kept the third. The last man over the Intrepid's side was Lieutenant Reed, who, as Somers's first lieutenant, was to command the Nautilus.
The night had fallen when the Constitution's boat joined the ketch, and in it was found the little fifteen-year-old midshipman, Israel, who had pleaded to go, and, being refused, had smuggled himself into the boat. There was then no way of getting rid of him, and, admiring his bold determination, Somers welcomed him on the ketch. There was a light blue haze on the water, and the night was murky as the "infernal" stole upon her way. She entered the harbor silently, while outside, in the offing, the Nautilus, the Argus, and the Vixen stood in as close as they dared. Presently, in the darkness, the Siren was observed to flit past them. Stewart, in his anxiety for Somers, had implored Commodore Preble to let him be near the scene of action, and the commodore had consented.
The Siren ventured farther into the offing than the other vessels, and Stewart and his officers, like every officer and man on all of the ships, was intent upon the black shadow of the fire-ship, as she crept in among the rocks. She was soon discovered, in spite of the darkness, and a few grape-shot were thrown at her. Stewart was standing in the Siren's gangway, with one of his lieutenants, anxiously watching through his night-glass the progress of the Intrepid, when the officer cried, "Look! see the light!" A light, like a lantern, was seen to flash across the Intrepid's deck. The next moment a roar as if worlds were crashing together shook the castle and forts, and rocked the ships in the offing; a red glare hideously illumined the sea and sky; the masts and sails of the ketch rose up in the burning air for a moment, then fell into the fire-lit waves, and all was over. A frightful and unearthly silence and darkness succeeded. The brigs and schooners cruised about, their officers and men in anguish over the fate of their brave companions. The Constitution fired minute-guns all night, so that if any survived that awful explosion they might know they were not forgotten. When sunrise came, thirteen blackened bodies floated ashore at Tripoli. They were so disfigured that the officers could only be told from the men by the softness of their hands. Bainbridge and his officers were taken from their captivity to identify the remains of the thirteen brave souls who had given life itself to hasten the release of the Philadelphia's gallant company. Not the slightest damage was done to the Tripolitan ships or forts, or to the town itself.
The ten sailors were buried together near the beach, while the three officers were laid in the same grave on a plain a little southward of the castle. Whether Somers blew the ketch up, in his conception of his duty, or whether the powder was accidentally ignited, can never be ascertained. All that is known, however, is that he did his duty, as did every officer and man lost in that perilous attempt. Of each of them may be said as is written after the name of the little midshipman, Israel, in the records of the navy, "Died, with honor, in the service, September 4, 1804."
His country honored Somers by naming for him a beautiful little brig; but like him it was doomed to misfortune. One of the most terrible tragedies that ever occurred in the American navy took place upon the deck of the Somers, and it was afterward lost at sea, going down, as Somers did, in the darkness and silence of an unfathomed mystery.