Jefferson's War (30 page)

The commanders of Preble's fifteen warships, gunboats, and mortar boats watched the
Constitution
for the signal to deploy. Preble sorely missed the
Philadelphia,
whose loss left him with just one frigate, his flagship. Five frigates were on their way to the
Mediterranean, but he was unsure when they would arrive, and he couldn't delay any longer. The coming fall storms would foil his plans to use the six gunboats and two mortar vessels loaned him by Naples. They were ideal for maneuvering in shallow water, where the
Constitution
and the assembled squadron's six brigs and schooners dared not venture. But the gunboats were flatbottomed and heavy, and did not row or sail well—they had had to be towed from Syracuse. They would be unusable in stormy seas. Each bomb vessel carried a 13-inch brass sea mortar—per—fect for lofting shells over the fortresses and into the city. The gunboats were armed with long 24-pound bow guns. Preble's flotilla bobbing at anchor outside Tripoli's reef was manned by 1,060 Americans and Neapolitans.

 

Since taking command of the Mediterranean squadron in 1803, Preble had ached for the chance to cripple Tripoli's warmaking ability, “by destroying their vessels in port, if I cannot meet them at Sea.” But as Dale and Morris also had recognized, Preble saw that he needed shallow-draft ships to draw close enough to the city to unleash a punishing bombardment. Cathcart had tried to procure gunboats from France, and, failing at that—French shipbuilders were absorbed in supplying Napoleon's navy—he proposed building them from scratch at Leghorn, and had sketched possible prototypes. But Preble had a better idea: Naples was hostile to Barbary, friendly to America, and expanding its navy, so why not borrow the gunboats from Naples? Prime Minister Sir John Acton informed Preble in May that Naples would be happy to lend the United States the floating batteries, and threw in six additional 24-pound guns. Preble mounted all six on the
Constitution's
spar deck, giving her an impressive fifty guns. “They
are fine Battering Cannon, and I expect will do good service,” the commodore noted cheerfully. Acton also generously supplied 200 barrels of gunpowder, as well as muskets, pistols, and ninety-six Neapolitan sailors to help crew the vessels.

Preble's attempted diplomacy with Tripoli had failed. He had sent Richard O‘Brien, the former consul general, into Tripoli on June 12 with authority to offer $40,000 in ransom, $10,000 in bribes, and a $10,000 gift for Yusuf whenever the new U.S. consul arrived. The bashaw spurned the peace bid and wouldn't even allow O'Brien to visit the
Philadelphia
prisoners. He grudgingly permitted him to send ashore clothing for them, then reversed himself and lowered the white truce flag before O‘Brien could send the clothing; the British delivered the shipment weeks later. Preble sailed away vowing to “beat & distress his savage highness” into accepting his terms.

Preble and every consul in the region felt the sharp urgency of bringing the war to a head. At stake was America's reputation in Barbary. “It is from thence we are either to assume and support a National Character with these States;—or bow the neck and answer to the eternal cry of give,” wrote George Davis from Tunis. Echoing Jefferson's long-held sentiments, Tobias Lear said the United States was “a Nation different from all others, we are now powerfull if we chuse to exert our strength.”

It was a favorable moment for an attack on Tripoli. All was quiet in Algiers, and while Morocco and Tunis were complaining about the Tripoli blockade, they weren't going to do anything about it. Morocco again was badgering U.S. Consul James Simpson for a passport, this time so it could send wheat to Tripoli. Tunis was grousing over the
Philadelphia's
destruction—Tripoli was supposed to have given the frigate to Tunis to settle debts—
and was clamoring again for a gift frigate. The bey also professed to be outraged over U.S. warships having fired on a small coastal trading vessel carrying earthenware from Jerba; the incident was of little consequence, with no one hurt and scarcely $100 in damage done. Davis predicted nothing would come of all this because Tunis had its hands full with its war against Naples, and because of the calming effect of Preble frequently appearing in Tunis harbor with the
Constitution.
Tunis was waiting to see what Preble did at Tripoli; Davis said it was imperative that Preble stagger Tripoli with the force of his attack and impress the other Barbary States.
“It must be dreadful to Barbary. ”

Almost alone, Bainbridge was skeptical of Preble's chances of forcing peace upon Tripoli solely with naval force. From his castle prison, Bainbridge had had plenty of opportunity to observe the Tripolitans at close hand, and he was sure warships alone would not make the bashaw agree to a peace that didn't suit him. Tripoli was too well fortified to be beaten into submission by bombardment; its coastline was too pockmarked with bays for an effective blockade; and it had only a meager commercial trade to begin with, conducted by a few Jewish merchants whose interests were of little concern to the bashaw—and especially now, with the plentiful harvest. Bainbridge believed that only an amphibious attack by several thousand U.S. troops would force the bashaw to agree to peace on American terms, and that a landing force could easily capture the city and impose terms. While convinced that anything short of that would meet limited success and require a bought peace of some kind, Bainbridge recognized that a naval attack would serve one purpose: “A harassing bombardment will no doubt tend to make the terms more moderate....”

Signal flags shot up the
Constitution's
halyards, ordering the squadron to commence fire. The bomb vessels began lobbing shells into Tripoli. Sheets of musket and cannon fire flashed from enemy ships and batteries, clattering on the American warships' masts and hulls and roiling the water among the mortar boats, gunboats, brigs, and schooners. The squadron replied with a thunderous cannonade, and the fight was on. Soon a curtain of blue-gray smoke hung over the bright waters. The Philadelphia prisoners listened anxiously to the ominous rumble of cannons coming from above their castle prison. Tripoli's streets were filled with running men. “Every Turk had his musket and other weapons, and wild disorder rang out from every arch.” Extra guards suddenly appeared outside the captives' prison doors. The captives were driven to the castle magazine. Powder kegs weighing 100 pounds each were loaded on their backs, and they were forced to carry them at a jog, while being beaten by drivers, up to the castle batteries—a distance of three-quarters of a mile. Along the way, the riled townspeople threw stones at them and punched and slapped them, uttering “every insult and indignity that could be offered or endured.”

Preble's gunboats split into two divisions of three gunboats each under Captain Stephen Decatur and Lieutenant Richard Somers, and attacked the Tripolitan gunboat fleet. In Somers's division were Lieutenant John Blake and Decatur's younger brother, Lieutenant James Decatur. Stephen Decatur led Lieutenants Joseph Bainbridge—whose older brother William was imprisoned less than a mile away—and John Trippe. As Stephen Decatur's formation advanced toward nine enemy gunboats through a curtain of grapeshot and musket balls, Bainbridge's lateen yard was shot
away, and he couldn't steer his vessel and bring it alongside the enemy. So, from a distance, he harried the Tripolitans with cannon and musket fire, while Decatur, Trippe, and three dozen crewmen swarmed aboard two enemy craft. Decatur and twenty-four men cleared the decks of their prize in just ten minutes.

Trippe boarded another gunboat, and the two vessels suddenly drifted apart, leaving him and just ten men to face thirty-six enemy. Undaunted, Trippe's small force attacked with swords, pistols, pikes, and tomahawks. Trippe, small but well-proportioned, took on the enemy captain, an athletic man well over six feet tall. Before the battle, the Tripolitan had sworn on the Koran that he would “conquer or die,” and now he fought both Trippe and Midshipman John D. Henley with abandon. Impressed by the captain's wild courage, the American officers exhorted him to surrender so they would not have to kill him. But the captain grimly fought on, ignoring his own wounds while slashing and stabbing Trippe with his scimitar eleven times in the head and chest. Reeling and bloody, Trippe saw an opening and desperately drove his sword into the Tripolitan, who fell and lay motionless on the deck. As Henley stepped over him, the captain suddenly gave a violent twist to Henley's ankle before going limp and expiring on the spot. For the rest of his days, Trippe shed tears whenever relating their epic struggle.

Somers's division bore in on the second gunboat formation. While Somers and his crew drove five enemy craft inside the protection of the rocks with grapeshot and musket fire, James Decatur attacked the largest enemy gunboat. It quickly struck its flag, but as Decatur boarded it, the treacherous captain raised a pistol and shot him in the head. As the shocked crewmen attended to their dying lieutenant, the enemy gunboat escaped.

The boat bearing the wounded James Decatur happened to cross paths with Stephen Decatur's gunboat. When Decatur learned how his brother had been wounded, he left his prize with Lieutenant Thorn, took eleven men, and went looking for the Tripolitan captain. He vowed to give no quarter, just as his brother's assailant hadn't. “I find hand to hand is not childs play, ‘tis kill or be killed.” Decatur overtook an enemy gunboat, and he led his tiny boarding party aboard. Decatur searched out the captain, a huge Mameluke. The captain lunged at Decatur with a pike. When Decatur swung his cutlass to block the blow, his sword shattered on the metal pike head, and the captain drove the pike into Decatur's chest. Decatur yanked it out before it caused mortal damage and flung it aside. The men wrestled on the deck. Decatur, smaller and quicker, emerged on top, just as a Tripolitan crewman swung a sword at his head. The blow might have ended Decatur's life had it landed. But Daniel Frazier, a Decatur crewman wounded in both arms, thrust his head into the sword's path and took the heavy, chopping blow on his own skull, sparing his captain. (Miraculously, Frazier survived.) The Mameluke flipped over Decatur, whipped out a short, curved knife, and stabbed down toward Decatur, who caught his wrist with his left hand before the Mameluke could sink the blade into his chest. As they struggled for the knife, with his other hand Decatur fumbled for the pistol that he kept in his pocket, managed to cock it, pointed it in the direction of the captain, and pulled the trigger. The captain slumped over, dead.

The captain's death took all the fight out of his crewmen, and they surrendered. While Decatur always believed he had avenged his brother's death—and Stewart agreed that he had—Preble and Somers thought the killer had gotten away on another gunboat.
As a souvenir of their epic hand-to-hand fight, Decatur kept a book of Arabic prayers and Koran passages that he found in the dead captain's pocket. (After her husband's death years later, Susan Decatur gave the book to the library at Catholic College in Georgetown, in the District of Columbia.)

The
Constitution
bombarded the forts and the city with 262 rounds of shot and shell, damaging buildings throughout the city and toppling a minaret. Five enemy gunboats and two galleys that had been held in reserve behind the rocks tried to flank the gunboats, and Preble swung his fifty guns on them. The storm of grapeshot stopped the sortie cold and inflicted heavy losses and “great havoc.”

At 4:30 P.M., two hours after signaling the attack, Preble gave the signal to retire. The brigs, schooners, and boats towed away the gunboats, mortar boats, and their prizes under the
Constitution's
covering fire. Preble took the bomb vessels in tow, and the squadron sailed out of the harbor.

The battle was over.

Decatur reported his captures to Preble, who was agitatedly pacing the
Constitution
quarterdeck, his uniform in shreds from a shot that had badly damaged a deck cannon during his ship's brisk shelling. Decatur announced that his division had taken three prizes. Preble, expecting more than three ship captures from the attack, spun around and seized him by the collar. “Aye, sir,” he cried, shaking Decatur, “why did you not bring me out more?” The frustrated commodore stalked off to his cabin.

But when he learned later what had happened to Decatur's brother, Preble sent for the captain and apologized. He sent Decatur on the
Constitution
's barge to bring James aboard the flagship. James died on the barge, propped in Midshipman Charles
Morris's lap. Decatur sat up with the body all night, remembering the happy times they had shared as boys. But at the burial at sea the next morning, Decatur was more proud than sad. To Morris, he confided, “I would rather see him there, than living with any cloud on his conduct.”