Graham's Magazine, Vol. XXI, No. 4, October 1842

by Various

Several of Somers’ friends visited him on board the Intrepid before she got under way. Among them were Stewart and Decatur, with whom he had commenced his naval career in the United States. These three young men, then about twenty-six each, were Philadelphia-bred sailors, and had been intimately associated in service for the last six years. They all knew that the enterprise was one of extreme hazard, and the two who were to remain behind felt a deep interest in the fate of him who was to go in. Somers was grave, and entirely without any affectation of levity or indifference, but he maintained his usual tranquil and quiet manner. After some conversation, he took a ring from his finger and breaking it into three pieces gave each of his companions one, while he retained the third himself. As the night shut in, three gunboats were seen at anchor a short distance within the western entrance, by which the Intrepid was to pass, and Decatur, who felt a strong anxiety for the success of his friend, admonished Somers to take care they did not board him, as it was the intention to carry the ketch some distance within them. To this Somers quietly replied that the Turks had got to be so shy he thought they would be more likely to cut and run on his approach, than to advance and meet him.

It was eight o’clock in the evening before the Intrepid lifted her anchor; the Argus, Vixen and Nautilus weighing and standing in, in company. The night was sufficiently advanced to cover this movement, and all four vessels stood down towards the rocks under their canvass. The last person who left the ketch was Lieut. Washington Reed, then first of the Nautilus. This officer did not quit his commander until it was thought necessary for him to rejoin the vessel of which he was now in charge. When he went over the side of the Intrepid, all communication between the gallant spirits she contained and the rest of the world ceased. At that time every thing seemed propitious; Somers was cheerful, though calm; and perfect order and method prevailed in the little craft. The leave-taking was affectionate and serious with the officers, though the common men appeared to be in high spirits. This was about nine o’clock.

The Argus and Vixen lay off at a little distance from the rocks to attack the galleys or gunboats, should either attempt to follow the party out on their retreat, while the Nautilus shortened sail and accompanied the ketch as close in as was deemed prudent, with the especial intention of bringing off the boats. Lieut. Reed directed the present Com. Ridgely, then one of the Nautilus’ midshipmen,[^[2]] to watch the ketch’s movements with a night-glass; and, as this order was strictly complied with, it is almost certain that this officer was the last person of the American squadron who saw the vessel. It was thought she was advancing slowly to the last moment, though the distance and the obscurity render this fact a little doubtful.

Preble had directed the Siren to weigh and stand in, shortly after the other vessels left him, and in obeying the orders he received Capt. Stewart kept more in the offing than the vessels which preceded him. As the direction of the western entrance and the inner harbor were known, every eye in this brig was riveted on that quarter in silent suspense. It was not long before the enemy began to fire at the ketch, which, by this time, was quite near the batteries, though the reports were neither rapid nor numerous. At this moment, near ten o’clock, Capt. Stewart and Lieut. Carrol were standing in the Siren’s gangway looking intently towards the place where the ketch was known to be, when the latter exclaimed, “Look! see the light!” At that instant a light was seen passing and waving, as if a lantern were carried by some person in quick motion along a vessel’s deck. Then it sunk from view. Half a minute may have elapsed when the whole firmament was lighted with a fiery glow, a burning mast, with its sails, was seen in the air, the whole harbor was momentarily illuminated, the awful explosion came, and a darkness like that of doom succeeded. The whole was over in less than a minute; the flame, the quaking of towers, the reeling of ships, and even the bursting of shells, of which most fell in the water, though some lodged on the rocks. The firing ceased, and from that instant Tripoli passed the night in a stillness as profound as that in which the victims of this frightful explosion have lain from that fatal hour to this.

The Nautilus showed lights in hopes to guide the retreating boats to her side; all eyes in the squadron looked in vain for the expected signal; a moaning gun occasionally was heard from the frigate, a fitting knell for such a disaster; but in vain. No one ever came back from the ill-fated Intrepid to relate the history of her loss. The Argus, Vixen and Nautilus hovered near the rocks until the sun arose, but nothing was discovered to throw any light on the manner in which the ketch was lost. The gun-boats anchored near the pass had been moved; one, it was thought, had entirely disappeared, and two or three more were hauled ashore as if shattered.

In the American squadron the opinion was general that Somers and his determined companions had blown themselves up to prevent capture. In the absence of certainty, facts were imagined to render such a desperate step probable if not necessary. It was supposed that gunboats had advanced to board the ketch, and that Somers had fired the train in preference to falling into the hands of the Tripolitans, or allowing them to get possession of the powder. Such appears to have been the opinion of Com. Preble, who reported as much to the government; and the country, receiving its impressions from this source, has long entertained the same idea. A few, however, of the more thoughtful have always doubted, and subsequent discoveries have rendered these doubts more and more probable.

Among the American prisoners in Tripoli was a surgeon’s mate of the name of Cowdery, now the oldest surgeon in the navy, who was permitted to go very much at large in the town, his professional services being found useful. From this gentleman, from Capt. Bainbridge’s private journal, and from other sources equally credible, the following interesting facts have been obtained, leaving no question of their accuracy.

In the first place, neither the works, the town, nor the Tripolitans themselves, appear to have suffered any injury by the explosion. Captain Bainbridge, in his journal, where he speaks of this explosion, says:—“which unfortunate scheme did no damage whatever to the Tripolitans; nor did it appear even to heave them into confusion.” The bashaw, being desirous of ascertaining how many Americans had been lost in the explosion, offered a dollar for each body that could be discovered. This produced the desired effect, and by the 6th, the dead were all brought up. The bottom of the ketch had drifted among the rocks, on the north side of the round battery, which is near the western entrance, and there it grounded. In the wreck, two bodies were found. The Constitution’s cutter, or the six-oared boat, had drifted on the beach, a short distance to the westward of the town. One body was in it. Six more bodies were found on the shore to the southward, and the remaining four were discovered floating in the harbor. This makes the entire number of the thirteen who were lost in the ketch. Captain Bainbridge describes the six dead whom he saw as “being so much disfigured, it was impossible to recognize any known feature to us, or even to distinguish an officer from a seaman.” Those six bodies were the two found in the wreck, and the four floating in the harbor. But Mr. Cowdery was more successful. He selected three of the bodies as those of officers, being guided by some fragments of dress still remaining on them, and still more by the delicate appearance of their hands. As this was just the number of the officers who were actually lost, and the Americans in Tripoli were then entirely ignorant of the character of the party sent in, it leaves scarcely a doubt that this gentleman decided accurately. Indeed, if the palms of the hands were not much injured, it would not be easy to make a mistake in such a matter; and any portions of the dress would be almost as safe guides. The ten seamen were buried on the beach, outside the town and near the walls; while the three officers were interred in the same grave, on the plain beyond, or a cable’s length to the southward and eastward of the castle. Small stones were placed at the four corners of this last grave, to mark its site; but they were shortly after removed by the Turks, who refused to let what they conceived to be a Christian monument, disfigure their land. Here, then, lie the remains of Somers, and his two gallant friends; and it might be well to instruct the commander of some national cruiser to search for their bones, that they might be finally incorporated with the dust of their native land. Their identity would at once be established by the number of the skeletons, and the friends of the deceased might find a melancholy consolation in being permitted to drop a tear over the spot in in which they would be finally entombed.

The facts related leave little doubt that Com. Preble was mistaken in, at least, a portion of his conjectures. That no Turks suffered, is shown by the direct testimony of Captain Bainbridge’s journal, a record made at the time, and that, too, under circumstances which will not well admit of mistakes. This truth is also corroborated by other convincing testimony. Those who saw the explosion, saw no signs of any vessel near the ketch at the time it occurred, nor were the vestiges of any wreck, but that of the Intrepid, to be seen in the harbor. The officer who saw the ketch to the last moment, by means of the glass, is not understood to have seen any thing near her, and the thirteen bodies found, the precise number of the Americans known to have been lost, go to confirm the fact. It adds value to the testimony, too, that a written memorial of this very number of the dead was made, before the prisoners in Tripoli had any information concerning the force of the party sent in from the squadron.

Nor is there sufficient reason for supposing that the Americans blew themselves up, on this occasion. That Somers went in with a full determination to put in force this desperate expedient in the event of its becoming necessary to prevent capture, is beyond dispute; but there is no proof of the existence of the necessity. To suppose the match would have been applied, except in the last emergency, is to accuse him who did it, with a want of coolness; a virtue that Captain Somers possessed in an eminent degree; and this emergency could hardly have existed without some of the enemy having been near enough to suffer by the explosion. The whole party was accustomed to fire, and it is scarcely possible that they could have been driven to this desperate step, by means of injury received in this manner, as they always had their boats for a flight, when required. There was a vague rumor that most of the bodies found had been perforated by grape-shot, and a conjecture was made that the survivors fired the train, in order to prevent the Turks from getting possession of the powder. But the report can be traced to no sufficient authority, and it is not probable that so many would have suffered in this way as to prevent the unhurt from using the boats and the train in the mode originally contemplated. But one man was found in the Constitution’s cutter, and he, doubtless, was the boat-sitter, who lost his life at his post. This indicates any thing but hurry or alarm.