Commodore Edward Preble had been in command of the U.S. Mediterranean Squadron a bit more than two months. In that time, he had found the British at Gibraltar less-than-cooperative, causing him to think about another base of operation. And he had had to use the combined force of all units comprising the old and new squadrons to divorce the Emperor of Morocco from thoughts of joining in Tripoli’s war. Following a stop at Algiers to land the new U.S. consul, he was passing south of Sardinia when he met HMS Amazon on 24 November 1803. The British frigate gave the commodore the news that his second largest unit, the frigate Philadelphia, was said to have been taken by the Tripolines late the previous month.
Preble immediately altered course and set all sail for Malta, feeling confident he could become more fully informed there. On the 26th, he sent ashore First Lieutenant John H. Dent, who returned with letters from Captain William Bainbridge, telling how the ship ran on uncharted rocks and how the Tripolines soon surrounded her in overwhelming numbers. The circumstances of the grounding and the rapid refloating of the ship after surrender leave questions unanswered to this day. The commodore was aghast at the news, but generally kept any criticisms of Bainbridge to himself. At this point, it was more pressing than ever that he establish a solid base of operation to pursue whatever course of action he determined. Understanding that authorities at Syracuse, Sicily, probably would be amenable to his desires, Preble headed there, and on the 28th the city’s governor, Marcello de Gregorio, welcomed the Americans and agreed to provide warehousing and magazines ashore.
On 15 December, Preble took the Constitution and the schooner Enterprise south to familiarize himself with Tripoli and environs and to discern the Philadelphia’s location. Lieutenant Commandant Stephen Decatur took his tiny craft inshore to scout out the Philadelphia; Preble had no intention of allowing the enemy to commission her. Hardly had they sighted the coast on the 23rd, however, than a Constitution lookout sighted a strange sail to the southwest, standing away from the port. Quickly chased, the lateen- rigged ketch proved to be the Mastico. A Neapolitan doctor just home from Tripoli and hired as a surgeon’s mate by Preble identified both the ship and many of the embarked personnel as having been involved in the Philadelphia’s capture. She was a good prize.
Preble returned to Syracuse through stormy weather and set about gaining intelligence from the papers found in the Mastico. Not finding the needed translator in Syracuse, he left the Constitution to refit and embarked in the schooner Vixen on 13 January 1804 for Malta, where he received a welcome markedly different from that experienced at Gibraltar. All that great base’s resources were made available to him. While awaiting translation of the Mastico documents, the commodore made contact with many people, including the Bashaw Yusuf Karamanli’s official agent and those representing his deposed brother Hamet, then anticipating an opportunity to return to power in Alexandria, Egypt. Preble kept his silence and made no commitments. Once the documents had been translated, he promptly returned to Syracuse, eager to put into motion an operation to resolve the Philadelphia problem while it remained static.
It seems likely that the idea of destroying the ship where she lay occurred to Preble almost as soon as he learned what had happened. As a lieutenant in the Massachusetts Navy in the Revolution, he had led such an operation. That he could not do now, of course, but a glory-seeking subordinate in his squadron would be just the man: Decatur. As Preble developed the plan, Decatur was to use the recent Tripoline trader Mastico—which was renamed Intrepid—to transport part of a volunteer raiding party to the objective area. Lieutenant Commandant Charles Stewart, Decatur’s senior in the Siren would lead the mission, but Decatur, who recently had seen the lay of the land, would lead the attack. Approaching at night, the ships were to rendezvous and consolidate the party in the Intrepid for the actual harbor entry, relying on her familiar appearance to get her alongside the Philadelphia. To improve the disguise, Decatur would have with him a Sicilian pilot, now Sailing Master Salvatore Catalano, a mariner known to the Tripolines. Meanwhile, Stewart was to hover near the western harbor entrance with boats manned and ready to provide additional support as necessary.
Plans laid, the Intrepid was taken in hand and outfitted for the purpose. The Constitution provided small arms and combustibles, and 62 of Decatur’s crewmen, all of whom had volunteered, were selected to man the ship. Added to them were three lieutenants and five of the Constitution’s midshipmen. In a week, all was ready, and on 2 February, in the first dog watch, the Intrepid and Siren cleared Syracuse harbor, heading south.
The raiders arrived singly off Tripoli two days later, in late afternoon. By then, the Siren had been repainted, and her rig had been altered to appear as a trader. Decatur was ready to make the attempt after sunset, but by then a strong storm was making the seas treacherous around the reefs. Reluctantly, the Americans hunkered down as they were driven to the east. Life in the Intrepid for the seven days the storm raged was especially miserable, as the overcrowded conditions were made worse by the discovery that the beef put aboard was foul. All hands were reduced to hardtack and water.
At last, on 15 February the weather moderated, and the two small ships found themselves deep in the southeastern corner of the Gulf of Sidra. On the 16th, Midshipman Thomas Anderson and nine men were sent to the Intrepid from Siren, rising the assault force to 84. By late that afternoon, the Intrepid was in position to begin, but the Siren was some five miles behind. Decatur fretted that she could not come up until too late for the attack to be made that night. Telling his subordinates that if they went ahead without their companion there would be more glory for each of them, Decatur ordered the Intrepid to proceed alone.
As they headed west, along a route similar to that of the Philadelphia, Decatur, dressed in Maltese garments, stood on the quarterdeck, with Sailing Master Catalano and a half-dozen apparently Mediterranean seamen in evidence about the deck. The breeze died to a whisper, and the night enfolded them, clear and serene with a crescent moon. To seaward, Stewart in the Siren caught sight of the Intrepid before darkness was complete, saw she was inbound, and proceeded to his station off the western entrance. There, he put his boats in the water with about 30 men under Lieutenant James R. Caldwell to try and join the Intrepid for the attack. (They never caught up.)
Flying British colors, the ketch crept forward to where the captured frigate lay moored under the guns of the Bashaw’s castle. Both she and the other ship offshore had been seen by the local populace, but no one suspected their real intent. The bulk of Decatur’s people lay hidden along the bulwarks. They had been divided into teams, with each team member responsible for getting aboard particular items and for performing assigned tasks. The attack was to be made silently, with only cutlasses and boarding axes as weapons. They were to swarm aboard, subdue opposition— reportedly 30 strong—on the spar deck and then on the gun deck. That done, a portion of the party would remain on the spar deck to guard against counterattack.
Decatur, with Midshipmen Ralph Izard and John Rowe and 14 men, took on the spar deck. Lieutenant James Lawrence, with Midshipmen Alexander Laws and Thomas Macdonough and ten men, were assigned the berth deck and forward storerooms. Lieutenant Joseph Bainbridge, brother of the captive William Bainbridge, with Midshipman John Davis and ten men, went to the wardroom and steerage, while Midshipman Charles Morris and eight men attended to the cockpit and after storerooms. Each of four men was detailed to carry two carefully encased lanterns from which the three-inch sperm candle carried by each boarder could be lighted. Acting Lieutenant Jonathan Thorn, Surgeon’s Mate Lewis Heerman, Sailing Master Catalano, and 14 men remained in the Intrepid to pass combustibles and safeguard the vessel.
It was going on 2200 when the Philadelphia was sighted, with four guardships moored in her vicinity. Her foremast, cut down when the Tripolines refloated her, had not yet been replaced. No sails could be seen on the yards. The Intrepid was well within gunshot when a hail from the frigate ordered them to stand clear. Catalano stood forward and in Maltese identified his ship as a simple trader that had been damaged in the recent storm and had lost her anchors as she strove to avoid grounding. He begged permission to moor alongside until morning. The Arab speaker proved to be a garrulous person who went on to inquire about their cargo while the distance closed. And then the breeze died completely. Decatur quietly had a ship’s boat manned and a line taken toward the frigate. Amazingly, the Arabs also sent one forward. The two met, the lines knotted, and the lntrepids commenced heaving themselves alongside, the small visible crew being assisted by those still on their backs in the shadows. All went well until someone on the larger ship looked down and caught sight of an anchor. “Amriki!” he screamed, “Amriki!” And the cat was out of the bag.
The lead party was up in an instant, Decatur intent on being the first to set foot on deck. Unfortunately for his aspirations, slippery footing delayed him. Likewise, Midshipman Laws got tangled in some rigging. Thus it was that Midshipman Charles Morris was first over the bulwark and on deck, no doubt thankful to discover that there were far fewer defenders than expected. The charging Americans quickly put down the scant resistance, killing two and taking one prisoner. Five Tripolines were seen exiting over the other side aft. One American had been slightly wounded in the brief melee.
Midshipman Anderson and his Sirens had been detailed to row guard boat around the Philadelphia to ward off any surprises from the nearby enemy and to prevent escapees from the ship herself from getting ashore to spread the alarm. The precaution was a wise one, for they intercepted a boat from the frigate, and in hand-to-hand combat killed all its occupants.
With the spar and gun decks secure, those remaining in the Intrepid began passing the various combustible materials. As each of the teams received its share, it proceeded to its assigned area and set about laying fires in the lower spaces. As Surgeon’s Mate Heerman later recorded it:
“The gun deck was all of a sudden beautifully illuminated by the numerous candles of the crew. The squads . . . repaired to their stations. After the lapse of a few minutes Captain D demanded at every hatchway, from forward to aft, whether they were ready, and—on being answered in the affirmative from below—returned to the hatchways as before, giving the word succinctly at each, “Fire!”—in order of insuring the simultaneousness of setting fire to every part of the ship alike.”
For the teams, it became a race to get topside and back into the Intrepid, so fast did the flames move. Decatur was the last to leave, but he had to do it so precipitately he had no time to gather the Tripoline flag he had taken down just a few moments before as an intended prize.
Smoke and some flame already were issuing from the Philadelphia’s gun ports by the time Decatur regained the Intrepid. The frigate’s standing rigging in the vicinity of the channels caught fire, and it went racing up the masts. The sweeps were got out to pole the Intrepid away from the pyre so sail could be set. But the firestorm’s draft already was so great that the jib set the wrong way, despite the fact that the craft lay on the frigate’s lee side, and she was sucked back alongside. Again, she was pushed off, and again she was drawn back. A wet tarpaulin was thrown over the remaining combustibles on the Intrepid’s deck.
Suddenly, one of the Philadelphia’s long guns fired, and then another cooked off. Fortunately, the Intrepid lay too close to the water to be hit directly, but one shot punched a neat hole in a sail. (Guns on the other side sent their shot into the town with unknown results.) Midshipman Anderson appeared on the Intrepid’s bow and took her in tow. The addition of that muscle made the difference; the ketch slowly clawed her way clear of the growing inferno. Once a little distance had been gained, the sweeps were run out for their intended purpose and they no longer were in danger from the fire. The Americans gave vent to their elation with three cheers.
By this time, and with the blazing torch before them, the Tripolines were mobilizing, the castle's guns began firing, and they soon were joined by others. But most of the shooting was haphazard and aimed at imaginary targets. Only a few actually were firing at the Intrepid as she struggled to get clear. Midshipman Morris later described the scene:
As the Intrepid neared the western entrance to the harbor, she was met by the Siren’s boats, which provided escort. The crewmen cheered her clear of the reefs. The two ships lay to together, while Decatur and his crew caught their breaths. Behind them, they had the satisfaction of seeing their target burn fiercely. At about midnight, they saw her anchor cable burn through and the hulk drift closer to the castle. The remains settled in the shallows, still burning. Stewart got them under way well before dawn and was over the horizon before the sun’s first rays. Nonetheless, the smoky column marking the pyre continued to be visible 40 miles away.
In Syracuse, Preble had been alternately fretting and stewing for more than two weeks. From the 12th onward, he had a lookout stationed at the Constitution’s masthead to catch the earliest sight of, he hoped, his returning units. Finally, at 1000 in the morning of Sunday, the 19th, the welcome hail was heard. Preble immediately ordered signal 227 hoisted: “Business or enterprise, have you completed, that you were sent on?” A minute or two later, flags 232 were seen to rise in the Siren: “Business, I have completed, that I was sent on.”
Leaving subordinates to anchor their ships, Stewart and Decatur were rowed to the Constitution and gave the commodore a detailed report. Preble, in turn, as soon as they were done and returned to their commands, prepared a report of the proceedings for Secretary of the Navy Robert Smith. While praising all hands, he specifically recommended that it would do the young service a world of good if Decatur were promoted to Captain. The Secretary was almost as prompt on making it so, and Stephen Decatur, at 25, became the youngest of that rank ever in the Navy, dated from 16 February. Congress later voted him a sword and praised all involved.
A fable has it that Britain’s Lord Horatio Nelson termed the deed performed by these Intrepid raiders “the most bold and daring act of the age.”
Sources:
Christopher McKee, Edward Preble (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 1972).
Glenn Tucker, Dawn Like Thunder (New York: Bobbs-Merrill Company, 1963).
