WILLIAM EATON WAS A FIGHTER
IN LOOK AND IN DEED, WILLIAM EATON WAS A FIGHTER.
His career, as I heard it later from the lips of the commodore, was fascinating. His father had been a farmer-teacher who raised crops in the summer and taught school in the winter. William, who was born in Woodstock, Connecticut, developed into a lad with a studious yet adventurous spirit. When sixteen he ran away from home and enlisted in the army where he was employed as a waiter by Major Dennie, of the Connecticut troops.
After he had risen to the rank of sergeant, he decided that he would like to go to college, and secured an honorable discharge. He was admitted as a freshman toDartmouth College, at Hanover, New Hampshire, but was given permission to be absent during the coming winter, in order that he might by teaching school obtain enough money to pursue his studies. Due, however, to difficulties at home, he was forced to prolong his school teaching, and it was not until two years later that he was able to return to Dartmouth. With his pack suspended from a staff thrown over his shoulder, he started on foot for Hanover.
In his pack was a change of linen and a few articles which he expected to sell on his journey. When he reached Northfield, his money gave out, and he was in despair. He began, however, to offer his pins, needles and other notions for sale, and with the proceeds he was able to go on to college. Here he was received with great kindness by President Wheelock, and here he pursued his studies, handicapped by sickness and by the necessity of teaching school in town. At last, in August, 1790, he received his degree. In March, 1792, he was appointed a captain in the army of the United States, and was assigned to duty at Pittsburgh and later at Cincinnati.
His prediction as to a troubled career in Tunis came true.
With an embrace and a God-speed from Commodore Barney, I sailed with Captain Eaton for Tunis. Arriving there, Mr. Cathcart led the captain to the Bey's palace. I was allowed to follow. We were ushered into the Bey's Hall of State, and there the captain must approach and bow to a fat-faced individual who frowned on him as if he were a stray cur that had wandered in among his satins and velvets. This fellow, from his safe place among his over-dressed officers, poured out abuse.
"It is now more than a year since your country promised me gifts of arms and ships! Why have they not been sent to me?"
Captain Eaton replied with dignity: "The treaty was received by our government about eight months ago; a malady then raged in our capital, which forced not only the citizens, but all the departments of the government, to fly into the interior villages of the country. About the time the plague ceased to rage, and permitted the return of the government, the winter shut up our harbors with ice. We are also engaged in a war with France; and all our means were used to defend ourselves against that country." He then went on to explain that he was empowered to offer a cash sum instead of the naval stores promised.
"I am not a beggar," said the Bey, "I have cash to spare. The stores are more than ever needed because of my war with France. You have found no trouble in fulfilling your promises to Algiers and Tripoli; and to Algiers have made presents of frigates and other armed vessels."
The captain explained that the Dey of Algiers had agreed to pay for certain armed vessels built for him by the United States, and that, moreover, several years' time had been allowed for their delivery.
"You may inform me," said the Bey, "that the Dey of Algiers paid you cash for your vessels. I do not believe it."
Arguments such as this one went on forever.
Our first pilgrimage, after becoming settled in Tunis, was to visit the hill which was once the site of Carthage. We passed through fertile pastures where donkeys, sheep, cattle, and camels were feeding, and among fields ofwheat, barley, and oats where awkward camels were used for plowing. Captain Eaton's military soul became aroused as we stood at the place where the great Hannibal was born.
My chief was well acquainted with Carthaginian history and thrilled me with his description of how Hannibal, commanding an army of paid mercenaries—Africans, Spaniards, Gauls, and Italians—managed them for thirteen years through wars and hardships in a foreign country without experiencing a single mutiny. Captain Eaton little dreamed that, on a small scale to be sure, fate had designed him to play the part of a Hannibal for his own country—but this will be told in due time.
When I was not on duty I spent my time taking donkey tours of the city, with an Arab boy running behind me to make my stubborn steed go. In this fashion I visited the Maltese, Jewish and Arab quarters, and explored the bazaars. When I grew hungry, why, here was the stand of an Arab who sold sweetmeats, and there was the booth of a man who fried meat and sold it hot from the fire, while always in the streets were fruit merchants selling fresh dates, oranges, and figs. When I stopped to buy curios, the swarthy, turbaned dealers usually invited me into their little shops to sit cross-legged on the floor and sip strong black coffee while we haggled over prices.
Before we arrived in Tunis, the agent there for the United States was a French merchant, named Joseph Etienne Famin. Upon our arrival the English consul at Tunis, Major Magre, warned Captain Eaton not to place confidence in Famin, stating that he was a dangerous man who would set snares for his successor. CaptainEaton soon learned that the Frenchman had protested to the Bey against the United States establishing a consul there "to keep the bread out of his mouth."
The captain, lonely among enemies, rewarded my faithfulness by taking me into his confidence. He told me that he had found that Famin had yielded to every outrageous demand made by the Bey against the United States, which Famin represented. Captain Eaton also told me that he suspected the Frenchman of reaping a profit from the presents sent by the United States to the ruler. Famin, we learned, had declared to the Bey that Eaton was nothing but a vice-consul, subject to Consul-General O'Brien at Algiers, and only placed at Tunis to spy upon the court.
At last, when the Frenchman told the court that "the Americans were a feeble sect of Christians" and that their independence from England "was the gift of France," Captain Eaton, giving him his jacket to hold, horse-whipped Famin at the marine gate of Tunis, before a crowd of amazed Moslems.
Famin went whining to the Bey and demanded that Eaton be punished.
"How dare you lift your hand against a subject of mine in my kingdom?" the Bey demanded of Captain Eaton, who took me with him to the palace.
HOW DARE YOU LIFT YOUR HAND
"HOW DARE YOU LIFT YOUR HAND AGAINST A SUBJECT OF MINE?"THE BEY OF TUNIS DEMANDED OF EATON.
The captain replied that Famin had tried to betray him, and had tried also to betray the Bey. He brought forth a paper, and prepared to read its contents.
"Hear him call your prime minister and your agents a set of thieves and robbers!" exclaimed Captain Eaton.
"Mercy! Forbearance!" cried Famin.
"Yes,thievesandrobbers! This is the man of your confidence!" the consul went on. Then I heard him tellthe Bey that Famin had blabbed all his secrets to a woman, who had repeated them to others, so that all the town knew that he was playing a double game with the Americans, and increasing the misunderstandings that had arisen between the American envoy and the court.
Famin trembled as if in a fit, and began an address in Arabic.
"Speak French!" said the Bey, frowning.
The ruler was at last convinced of the Frenchman's guilt. As we quitted the place we heard the Bey say to his court:
"The American consul has been heated, but truly he has had reason. I have found him a very plain, candid man; and his concern for his fellow-citizens is not a crime."
On one occasion, while Captain Eaton was in the palace, I paid a visit to the executioner, who occupied a lodge at the entrance to the palace. I went with an interpreter, a friend of the executioner, but even under the circumstances I felt timid when the official took down from its place on the wall a long curved scimitar and began to feel its edge as a reaper feels the blade of his scythe.
"It is a good blade—it has never failed me," he said, "even though I have had to slice off as many as twenty heads in a day."
If one is disposed to think that the ancient cruelty of these Turkish rulers has been decreased, let him think of these cruelties which we saw enacted in spite of our attempts to stop them.
Five corsairs from Tunis, manned by nine hundred and ninety men, sailed forth and landed upon the island of St. Peters, belonging to Sardinia. They captured andbrought back with them as prisoners to Tunis two hundred and twenty men and seven hundred women and children. In the raid upon the island, old men and women, and mothers with infants were pulled from their beds, driven down stairs or hurled from windows, driven almost naked through the streets, crowded into the filthy holds of the cruisers, and then, when landed at Tunis, bound with thongs and driven through the streets to the auction square, where they were sold into slavery. The old, the infirm and the infants, being unfit to work, were left to shift for themselves. If it had not been for contributions made by Captain Eaton and European ambassadors, they would have died of starvation.
The sum of $640,000 was demanded by the Bey for the ransom of the slaves, but at last he agreed to accept $270,000 from the king of Sardinia for their redemption.
A fire broke out in the palace and destroyed fifty thousand stands of arms. The Bey called upon Captain Eaton to request the United States to forward him ten thousand stands of arms. "I have divided my loss," he said, "among my friends; this quota falls to you to furnish; tell your government to send them without delay."
Captain Eaton refused to forward the demand. "You will never receive a single musket from the United States!" he declared.
Meanwhile, Captain Eaton's neighbor consul, Mr. Cathcart, was having similar troubles at the court of Tripoli. We learned from correspondence that in April, 1800, Tripoli's greedy Bashaw had bidden Cathcart, the American consul, to tell the President of the UnitedStates that while "he was pleased with his proffers of friendship, had they been accompanied by a present of a frigate or brig-of-war, he would be still more inclined to believe them genuine."
In May the Bashaw asked: "Why do not the United States send me a present? I am an independent prince as well as the Bey of Tunis, and I can hurt the commerce of any nation as much as the ruler of Tunis."
The President paid no heed to these threats. Thereupon, on May 18, 1801, the Bashaw cut down the flagstaff of the American consulate at Tripoli. Consul Cathcart quitted the city, and a state of war was declared.
Matters came to a head with us in Tunis in March, 1803. Commodore Morris had been detained in port by the Bey because the American squadron had seized a Tunisian vessel bound for Tripoli, with which country the United States was at war. Consul Eaton had protested with more than usual vigor against this outrage. The Bey ordered him to quit the court at once.
"It is well," replied Captain Eaton, "I am glad to quit a court where I have known such violence and indignity!"
On the 10th of March, we left Tunis on board of one of the ships of the American squadron. Doctor George Davis, of New York, was left in charge of American affairs. On the 30th of the same month, Captain Eaton sailed from Gibraltar in the merchant shipPerseverance, bound for Boston, at which port he arrived May 5th. He then went to Washington to urge that a land campaign be waged against the ruling Bashaw of Tripoli, of which project more will appear in this story. He was appointed navy agent for the United States and instructed to aid in the campaign of our squadron against the Bashaw of Tripoli.
I hoped while in Tunis to obtain a leave of absence that I might join a caravan that would pass by Tokra, the treasure city of my dreams. But no opportunity came. I remained with the fleet while Captain Eaton was at home and rejoined him when he returned. He brought with him a plan of campaign that, in operation, was to bring me well within reach of the treasure spot.
I HOPED THAT I MIGHT JOIN A CARAVAN
I HOPED THAT I MIGHT JOIN A CARAVAN THAT WOULDPASS BY TOKRA—THE TREASURE CITY OF MY DREAMS.
"But sailors were born for all weathers,Great guns let it blow, high or low,Our duty keeps us to our tethers,And where the gales drive we must go."
"But sailors were born for all weathers,Great guns let it blow, high or low,Our duty keeps us to our tethers,And where the gales drive we must go."
"But sailors were born for all weathers,Great guns let it blow, high or low,Our duty keeps us to our tethers,And where the gales drive we must go."
"But sailors were born for all weathers,
Great guns let it blow, high or low,
Our duty keeps us to our tethers,
And where the gales drive we must go."
Hard luck, indeed! The frigatePhiladelphiastranded on a reef in the harbor of Tripoli, and Captain Bainbridge and his men were left captives in the hands of the Bashaw. Yet the ill wind for them was a kind wind for me, since it brought me a chance to serve under Stephen Decatur in what men say is one of the most brilliant exploits in our navy's annals.
Fortunately, before this disaster befell, Captain Bainbridge had been given an opportunity to show the Mediterranean squadron his mettle, for Commodore Preble had assigned thePhiladelphia, under Bainbridge, to blockade duty on the Barbary Coast.
When I fell in again with Samuel Childs and Reuben James after my sojourn in Tunis, the first yarn spun to me in the night watch was that of how thePhiladelphiahad been captured. Reuben James was boatswain aboard of her when she was seized. He dived overboard and swam to safety when he saw that the jig was up, and rejoined the fleet to tell again and again the story of Bainbridge's gallantry in the face of misfortune.
Reuben's story ran like this: ThePhiladelphia, while cruising in the vicinity of Cape Gata, had come uponand hailed a cruiser and a brig. When the commander of the cruiser, at Captain Bainbridge's repeated demands, sent a boat aboard with his ship's papers, the captain learned that the cruiser belonged to the Emperor of Morocco; that her name was theMeshboha; that her commander was Ibrahim Lubarez; that she carried twenty-two guns and one hundred men.
The captain then sent an armed party to search the brig. He found imprisoned in her hold Captain Richard Bowen, and seven men. The brig was theCeliaof Boston. Captain Bainbridge released her crew, and imprisoned the officers and men of theMeshbohaaboard his frigate.
Asked by what authority he had captured an American vessel, Ibrahim Lubarez replied that he understood that Morocco intended to declare war on the United States and that when he seized the vessel he thought that a state of war existed. The captain suspected that the Emperor of Morocco had given orders that American ships be seized. "You have committed an act of piracy," he told the Moor, "and for it you will swing at our yardarm!"
"Mercy! Mercy!" wailed Ibrahim. Unbuttoning five waistcoats, he brought forth from a pocket of the fifth a secret document signed by the Governor of Tangiers.
Captain Bainbridge reported the matter to Captain Preble, and the latter at once proceeded to Tangiers with four frigates. There the Emperor abjectly disclaimed all knowledge of the affair, renewed his treaty, deprived the Governor of Tangiers of his office, and punished the commander of theMeshboha.
The American squadron was given a salute of twenty-one guns; a present of ten bullocks with sheep and fowlwas made to Captain Preble, and the Emperor's court reviewed the American ships and engaged with them in an exchange of salutes.
But, Reuben testified, when the American officers discussed the Emperor's declaration of innocence, they spoke of it as if it were a huge joke.
On the morning of October 31st, 1803, Reuben, who was the lookout on thePhiladelphia, espied a corsair sneaking out of a port. Captain Bainbridge at once swung his vessel round in pursuit. The wind was strong, enabling the frigate to gain on the pirate craft.
The ship was one of a corsair fleet under command of the Bashaw's captains, Zurrig, Dghees, Trez, Romani, and El Mograbi. Zurrig had sailed away from the other vessels on purpose to decoy the American ship on to a line of partly-submerged rocks that lay in the waters of the bay, parallel to the shore. The captain of the corsair knew every yard of the coast, and by hugging the shore, he soon drew the pursuing frigate into shallow water. ThePhiladelphiahad drawn close enough to the fleeing vessel to attack with the bow guns, and in the excitement of seeing if the shots struck home, the officers and crew forgot that their vessel was in danger of running upon a reef the corsair knew well how to avoid.
Eight fathoms of water had been reported. Then the men who threw the lead reported seven fathoms. The cry of six and a half fathoms soon followed. Captain Bainbridge at once gave the order to head seaward. The helm was thrown hard over; the sails flapped as the vessel came up to the wind. It seemed that she would reach deep water safely, but suddenly the vessel strucka rock and rose with her bow six feet out of water. From beneath the walls of the city, scarcely three miles away, the Bashaw's gunboats put out and opened fire on thePhiladelphia. Captain Bainbridge made every possible attempt to free his vessel. The guns forward and other parts of her equipment were thrown overboard, but the reef held her in an unyielding grip. Her crew returned the fire of the corsairs as best they could, but as the tide went out, the ship keeled over and the guns could no longer be fired. Captain Bainbridge ordered that the magazine be flooded; that the pumps be wrecked; and that holes be bored in the ship's bottom.
Warships—feluccas and other small boats crowded with Arabs—now attacked thePhiladelphia. Led by their captains, they swarmed over her sides. The Americans fought with small arms, wounding six of their assailants, but Bainbridge saw that his men would be massacred if the fight were prolonged, and hauled down the flag. Bainbridge and his crew of three hundred and fifteen men then surrendered. A few of the best swimmers took to the water, Reuben among them, but all were captured except him.
The captives, by means I will later describe, managed to write frequently to their friends aboard vessels of the fleet. Reuben corresponded with Tom Bowles, and thus knew as much about the experiences of the prisoners as if he were among them.
A few days later, he found out, the pirates managed to haul the vessel off the reef at flood-tide. They recovered the guns that had been thrown overboard, and boasted that their navy now owned a splendid American warship that had come into their possession without spending a sequin, or a drop of blood. The red flagbearing the crescent of the Moslems was lifted where the Stars and Stripes had flown. To purge the vessel of Christian contamination, and to consecrate her to the Prophet, the green flag of Mohammed was unfurled at certain periods.
As soon as the Americans gave up their arms, the infidels began to plunder them of all of their valuables. Swords, epaulets, trinkets, money, and clothing were taken. Captain Bainbridge wore a locket around his neck that contained a miniature picture of his wife. One of the looters snatched at it, but Captain Bainbridge made a determined resistance and was at last allowed to keep the trinket.
The boats containing the prisoners reached the docks of Tripoli at ten o'clock that night. The Bashaw was eager to inspect his captives, and received them in his audience hall, where he and his staff sat gloating. After much questioning, he sent them to supper, placing them under the care of Sidi Mohammed D'Ghiers, his prime minister. Mr. Nissen, the Danish consul, came promptly to comfort the prisoners, and to offer them such assistance as was in his power to render.
The Bashaw, who knew that some of the twenty-two officers he had bagged were members of prominent American families who could afford to pay big ransoms, was so delighted with the capture that he did not at first treat the captives severely. They were allowed to wander among groves of olive, fig, and lemon trees, and, on feast days, were sprinkled with attar of roses and fumigated with frankincense, while slaves served them coffee and sherbet.
The under-officers and sailors were at first treated with some consideration. The carpenters, riggers, and sailmakers were employed in making repairs on theBashaw's gun-boats. The seamen worked on fortifications. These men, by working overtime, earned a little money, which they usually spent for drink. The Mussulmans hated drunkenness. When they saw a drunken American, they spat in his face. Jack, in turn, thrashed the offender. Arrest and punishment followed, but the Moslems who guarded the slaves were subject to bribery and lightened their blows.
When the sailor was sentenced to receive blows on his bare feet, the guard would cover the soles with straw pads, telling the culprit to yell as if he were being hurt, as the chief of the guards was standing outside to tell by the cries whether the punishment was being administered.
The comfort of the officers was soon to end. Reuben showed me letters received from Tom Bowles written at this period that were full of bitter complaints. It appeared that the Bashaw summoned Captain Bainbridge to his presence and told him that one of his ships had been captured by the American war vesselJohn Adams, and that if their prisoners were not released the officers and men of thePhiladelphiawould be severely treated. Captain Bainbridge was not able to give a reply that satisfied the ruler. The Bashaw then ordered that he and his men be removed to a foul dungeon. There, in a room once used for smoking hides, they were obliged to remain without food except a little black bread and water.
A renegade Scotchman named Lisle, in the employ of the Bashaw, visited Captain Bainbridge here and urged him to send a message to theJohn Adamsto release the prisoners.
Captain Bainbridge answered: "Your ruler can subject me to torture and can lop off my head, but he can notforce me to commit an act incompatible with the character of an American officer."
When Captain Bainbridge learned that the Bashaw of Tripoli designed to use thePhiladelphiaas the chief ship of his own navy, he was greatly distressed.
With the aid of the Danish consul Nissen, he managed to write a letter to Commodore Preble, who was on his way to blockade Tripoli. This letter he wrote in lemon juice, which, when the paper is held to the fire, becomes readable. This letter Commodore Preble showed to the officers and enlisted men of the squadron, and even gave us permission to copy it for keepsakes in honor of Captain Bainbridge's pluck and resourcefulness. In the letter the latter advanced this plan for destroying his frigate:
"Charter a small merchant schooner, fill her with men and have her commanded by fearless and determined officers. Let the vessel enter the harbor at night, with her men secreted below deck; steer her directly on board the frigate and then let the officers and men board, sword in hand, and there is no doubt of their success. It will be necessary to take several good rowboats in order to facilitate the retreat after the enterprise has been accomplished. The frigate in her present condition is a powerful auxiliary battery for the defense of the harbor. Though it will be impossible to remove her from anchorage and thus restore this beautiful vessel to our navy, yet, as she may and no doubt will be repaired, an important end will be gained by her destruction."
"Charter a small merchant schooner, fill her with men and have her commanded by fearless and determined officers. Let the vessel enter the harbor at night, with her men secreted below deck; steer her directly on board the frigate and then let the officers and men board, sword in hand, and there is no doubt of their success. It will be necessary to take several good rowboats in order to facilitate the retreat after the enterprise has been accomplished. The frigate in her present condition is a powerful auxiliary battery for the defense of the harbor. Though it will be impossible to remove her from anchorage and thus restore this beautiful vessel to our navy, yet, as she may and no doubt will be repaired, an important end will be gained by her destruction."
How faithfully this plan was carried out by Commodore Preble and his men, I shall soon show.
Reuben, Samuel and other members of our crew attended a theatrical performance in Malta during a period in which our ship was detained in that harbor by a gale.
There were British ships in port and the contacts of their crews with men from our ships was seldom friendly. The little affair of the Revolution had not yet been forgotten, and, besides, the British habit of impressing us did not contribute towards a harmonious spirit. This island was one of England's fortresses in those waters and, of course, Englishmen abounded.
We saw in the theatre several of our midshipmen, looking very spruce in their dress uniforms, with brass buttons shining and with flashing dirks hanging by light chains from their hips. Among them was Joseph Bainbridge, the younger brother of Captain William Bainbridge. He was a slender, bright-eyed, manly young fellow, the most popular middie aboard theConstitution.
The group were standing in the lobby as we entered. We saw a crowd of young British officers looking them over with an air that came near to being insulting. Our middies were returning their gaze boldly and with even more insolence.
One of the British officers, a tall, handsome fellow looking very fine in his scarlet coat with silk braid, collided with Bainbridge in the lobby.
"I beg your pardon," we heard young Bainbridge say. The lads had been warned by the captain to avoid quarrels and Bainbridge, we could see, was trying to obey the command.
"That fellow pushed Joe on purpose," said Reuben, clenching his huge fist. "I've heard of that pusher—he's Captain Tyler, the Governor's secretary, a bad man in a duel. He has a dozen deaths to his credit, and is itching to add an American life to his score!"
When the performance was over—the singer Carlotta had entertained us well—we went out behind the middies, as a sort of rear-guard. We weren't looking for trouble, but if those lads got into a tussle, we felt that they might need aid from some plain sailors.
Captain Tyrone Tyler was standing where Bainbridge and his comrades had to pass. He gave young Bainbridge a dig with his elbow, whereupon our middy turned and spoke to him sharply. Tyler then jammed his elbow into the middy's face, and with his other hand tried to seize our lad by the collar.
"Rough work—stand by!" said Reuben to us. We pushed forward.
Bainbridge, however, had eluded Tyler's grasp.
His hand went out towards his tormentor, but it had a card in it.
"You are a bully and a coward," he said as cool as ice, "and I welcome the duty of putting a stop to your insults to American officers."
Tyler took the card from him. The comrades of both men closed in.
"It'll be a duel," said Reuben, in great disgust, "and our lad will go up against that killer! Why didn't he decide to let us settle it with our fists?"
As the two parties separated, Reuben glanced towards another part of the lobby. "What ho," he exclaimed, "there's Lieutenant Decatur looking on! He'd have taken part in the affair, you can bet your boots!"
Stephen Decatur, first lieutenant of theConstitution, followed the midshipman out of the theatre. We saw him approach Bainbridge and draw him away from the other middies, who were as flustered as hens.
We learned later that the meeting was to be on the beach the next day at nine o'clock. You may be sure that every man Jack of us was on the lookout to see if Lieutenant Decatur intended to permit Bainbridge to go ashore. When we saw them go off together in the cutter there was little work done among the crew. It looked to us as if the midshipman was on his way to sure death, and we decided that Decatur was going to seek a way out of the quarrel for the lad.
Reuben shook his head. "That would be against the honor of the United States' navy. Decatur may give him a lesson or two in duelling, but he'll see the thing through. They're leaving the ship a full hour and a half before the time set—I'll wager there'll be pistol practice somewhere."
About half-past nine a boat put out from the shore. There were two officers in it and both sat upright and chatted to each other. Could it be that——?
An hour later, young Bainbridge told us what had happened. Decatur, as the second of Bainbridge, had chosen pistols at four paces. Tyler's second objected. "This looks like murder, sir!" he said to Decatur.
The lieutenant replied: "No sir, this looks like death; your friend is a professed duellist; mine is inexperienced."
Decatur gave the warning: "Take aim!" and then "Fire!" Both, through agitation, missed. Again they faced each other. The pistols were discharged simultaneously. Tyler fell. A surgeon hurried towards him, while Bainbridge turned to Decatur. "I don't think his bullet touched me!" he said.
"I thank God for that!" said the lieutenant. "I fear it is not so well with your adversary, but he invited it. Let's be off!" They passed poor Tyler, lying mortally wounded, and lifted their hats as they went.
Reuben James, ever since I met him, had talked Decatur, Decatur, Decatur. He idolized him. During our country's affair with France he had served on a frigate on which Decatur was a midshipman, and the exploits of the young officer had so appealed to Reuben that he would have followed the youth into the mouth of death.
And indeed, what Reuben told me about Decatur made me also a fervent worshipper.
My own state was proud to claim Decatur as a son, for he was born in Sinnepuxent, Maryland. He was of the blood of Lafayette. His father and grandfather had been naval officers before him; and the former had served with honor on our side in the war of the Revolution.
This, however, was not his first experience in these waters. He had been an officer in Captain Dale's squadron, serving on theEssexunder Captain Bainbridge. Bainbridge and he had been linked in an affair that made him eager now to help his imprisoned friend. The commander of a Spanish gunboat insulted Captain Bainbridge at long distance while theEssexlay in the harborof Barcelona. Later Decatur was also insulted. Decatur visited the gunboat.
"Where is your captain?" he demanded of the officer on duty.
"He has gone ashore," was the reply.
"Tell him that Lieutenant Decatur, of the frigateEssex, pronounces him a cowardly scoundrel, and that when they meet on shore he will cut his ears off!"
The matter came to the attention of the commandant of the port, who requested Captain Bainbridge to curb his fiery officer. The captain replied that if the gunboat commander did not know how to be courteous to American officers he must take the consequences. The commandant thereupon ordered the gunboat captain to apologize to Decatur. The matter reached the ears of the King of Spain.
"Treat all officers of the United States with courtesy," he ordered, "and especially those attached to the United States frigateEssex."
Seventy volunteers were required to help Lieutenant Decatur blow up thePhiladelphia. Seventy volunteers—that meant that I had a chance to go. Fortunately, I was one of the first to hear the orders read, and thus had an opportunity to apply before others. Captain Eaton was on board theSiren, returning from sitting at the court of inquiry, when Lieutenant Stewart, commander of theSiren, read to him orders he had just received from Commodore Preble. I, as orderly to Captain Eaton, was present at the reading. Plain and direct was the message, but thrilling enough without flourishes.
I stepped forward.
"Pardon me, Sir," I said, "but I want to be one of the seventy volunteers. I speak also for Reuben James. Reuben has served under Lieutenant Decatur at other times, and he'd be heartbroken to be left behind."
I realized as I waited for a reply that I had done a bold thing. I was not supposed to be hearing the letter read, much less acting upon it. However, Lieutenant Stewart was not strict about discipline and he took no offence at my act.
"Your name goes down!" he said, "also Reuben James, though he'll be given a chance to speak for himself. You show the right spirit, young man, but don't feel lofty about it, for I expect any other man of our navy would have said the same thing if he were standing in your place."
Properly humbled, I went off to tell Reuben James that he had me to thank for gaining him an adventure.
Lieutenant Stewart's prediction came true. The crews of the squadron actually fought with each other for a chance to go. Decatur's name to them spelt romance. His exploits had been on every man's lips.
The crew of the ketchIntrepidhaving been chosen, off we started. It was sundown when we drifted into the harbor of Tripoli. We approached the city knowing that a sudden fear of attack had swept over Tripoli; that the forts were manned; the guns loaded, and a sharp watch kept.
We learned later that the Moslem guards congratulated themselves when they saw the ketch entering the harbor, thinking that it was manned by good Mohammedans who had had the shrewdness to escape blockading ships.
The gates of the city were shut. The Captain of the Port would not inspect the ship until morning. Thecall of the muezzin sounded over the still waters of the bay. Night fell on the city.
On board theIntrepidall of the crew, except six men disguised as Moors, were concealed below deck or behind bulwarks. Our ketch drifted towards thePhiladelphia. A sentinel on the frigate hailed us, but the answer came back from our Maltese pilot in the sentry's own language to the effect that the ketch had lost her anchors during a recent gale and wished to make fast to the anchors of thePhiladelphiauntil new ones could be purchased the next morning. As if taking permission for granted, Lieutenant Decatur directed Blake, a sailor who spoke Maltese, and Reuben and myself to set out from the ketch in a small boat for the purpose of fastening a line to a ring-bolt on the frigate's bow. When this was done, the sailors on the ketch were to haul on the line, to bring our boat nearer to the frigate. The men hidden behind the bulwarks caught the rope as it came through the hands of their disguised comrades, and helped in the hauling.
Suspecting nothing, the Moslems on thePhiladelphiasent in turn a small boat with a line to aid in mooring theIntrepid, but Blake met them and took the line from their hands, saying, in broken Maltese:
"We will save the gentlemen the trouble."
So far so good. But now, as the ketch was being hauled in by the bow line, the pull of the stern line swung her broadside towards the Tripolitans, and the guards on thePhiladelphiasaw the men who, under the screen of the bulwarks, were hauling in the line.
"Americanos! Americanos!" we heard them shriek.
Swift action followed on the part of Decatur. The hidden sailors sprang into the open and gave the line apull that sent the ketch close to thePhiladelphia. An Arab cut the rope, but the Americans were now near enough to throw grapnels.
"Boarders away!" Decatur shouted. We in the boat clambered up the sides of thePhiladelphia. The rest of the seventy climbed like cats over the vessel's rail with Midshipman Morris in the lead and Decatur at his heels. ThePhiladelphia'sdeck was home ground to many of us, and in a moment we had cleared the quarterdecks of the enemy. Then, in a cutlass charge, we drove the panic-stricken crew before us. Some of the infidels leaped overboard. Others sought refuge below, but died at the hands of sailors who had climbed through the ports. In ten minutes' time a rocket went up from the Americans to signal to theSirenthat thePhiladelphiahad been taken.
Combustibles had been rushed on board. Firing gangs were distributed through the ship. So swift was the work and so fierce was the blaze that Midshipman Morris and his gang, who were setting fire to the cockpit, were almost cut off by flames started elsewhere. From the portholes on both sides the flames leaped out, enveloping the upper deck. I saw that Decatur was the last to leave the ship.
The ketch, when all of the boarding party had returned to it in safety, had its period of danger too, for while it was still fastened at the frigate's stern, flames poured from the cabin of thePhiladelphiainto the cabin of the ketch where the ammunition was stored. The line was instantly severed. The crew laboring desperately with the big sweeps, eight to a side, pushed theIntrepidclear of the burning vessel and headed for the sea.
At last the flames reached the magazine of the vessel,which burst with a tremendous roar. Great sheets of flames arose and sparks flew like a storm of stars over the waters of the harbor. This was the end of the good shipPhiladelphia.
Every man on theIntrepidreturned without injury. Lord Nelson later declared this exploit to be "the most bold and daring act of the age." Decatur was made a captain. He received a letter from the Secretary of the Navy, and noted with joy that it was addressed to "Stephen Decatur, Esq., Captain in the Navy of the United States." His pride increased when he read:
"The achievement of this brilliant enterprise reflects the highest honor on all the officers and men concerned. You have acquitted yourself in a manner which justifies the high confidence we have reposed in your valor and your skill. The President has desired me to convey to you his thanks for your gallant conduct on this occasion, and he likewise requests that you will in his name thank each individual of your gallant band for their honorable and valorous support, rendered the more honorable from its having been volunteered. As a testimonial of the President's high opinion of your gallant conduct in this instance, he sends you the enclosed commission."
"The achievement of this brilliant enterprise reflects the highest honor on all the officers and men concerned. You have acquitted yourself in a manner which justifies the high confidence we have reposed in your valor and your skill. The President has desired me to convey to you his thanks for your gallant conduct on this occasion, and he likewise requests that you will in his name thank each individual of your gallant band for their honorable and valorous support, rendered the more honorable from its having been volunteered. As a testimonial of the President's high opinion of your gallant conduct in this instance, he sends you the enclosed commission."
Some people asked if thePhiladelphiacould not have been saved, though Commodore Preble's orders were to destroy her. We heard one of the captive officers of the frigate say later:
"I know of nothing which could have rendered it impracticable to the captors to have taken thePhiladelphiaout of the harbor of Tripoli." The pilot on board the ketch,Catalona, was of the same opinion. Decaturhimself told his wife that he believed that he could have towed the ship out, even if he could not have sailed her.
But Commodore Preble, in setting down explicit orders to destroy her, had written: "I was well informed that her situation was such as to render it impossible to bring her out."
He wrote thus because Captain Bainbridge himself had written:
"By chartering a merchant vessel and sending her into the harbor with men secreted, and steering directly on board the frigate, it might be effected without any or a trifling loss. It would not be possible to carry the frigate out, owing to the difficulty of the channel."
"By chartering a merchant vessel and sending her into the harbor with men secreted, and steering directly on board the frigate, it might be effected without any or a trifling loss. It would not be possible to carry the frigate out, owing to the difficulty of the channel."
The main object was to get thePhiladelphiaout of the possession of Tripoli. This Decatur did without risking the success of his enterprise.
Hotter and hotter grew our campaign. Thicker and faster adventures came. I could not be in the center of all of them, but I had reason to be glad that I had been with Captain Eaton in Tunis, because now he was returning to the seat of war to launch an attack, and I, because of his friendship for me, was granted the chance to go along. This new enterprise came about in this way.
Captain Bainbridge, I was told by Captain Eaton, while a prisoner in Tripoli, observed in the Bashaw's court three forlorn children. He inquired who they were.
"They are the children of Hamet Bashaw," a guard informed him. "Hamet Bashaw is the elder brother of our ruler, Joseph Bashaw. Hamet occupied this throne, until Joseph set on foot a rebellion and drove him out. Hamet fled to Egypt, and his children were captured by our monarch's troops. They are now held here as hostages, to insure that Hamet will make no attempts to regain the kingdom."
"That gives me an idea," Captain Bainbridge remarked to his officers, and he set to work to plan to unite against Joseph the forces of Hamet and the United States.
The lemon juice was again used as ink. In his letter to one of the consuls, the captain suggested that the United States should send a party out to find Hamet and persuade him to lead a movement to regain his throne, using in the campaign marines and sailors of the American navy.
It was this scheme, proposed to him while he was in Tunis, that Captain Eaton advanced when he visited the Navy Department. He returned to the fleet with permission to join forces with Hamet.
My employer's enterprise seemed at first thought to be doomed to failure. Most naval men disapproved and Captain Murray, then in command of the Gibraltar squadron, opposed it strenuously. Captain Eaton's title of "Naval Agent" was also resented by Murray and other officers. The captain met their attacks with his usual vigor.
"The government," he burst out, "may as well send outQuaker meeting-housesto float about this sea as frigates with Murrays in command. The friendly salutes he may receive and return at Gibraltar produce nothing at Tripoli. Have we but one Truxton and one Sterret in the United States?" Later, he included Preble and Decatur in his list of worthy officers.
Our first task, then, was to find Hamet, whom Joseph had displaced as ruler of Tripoli.
In the finding of Hamet we were greatly assisted by a German engineer named Leitensdorfer, who had been a colonel in a Tyrol battalion. At this period he was at Cairo, employed as a military engineer by the Turks. News came to him that Captain Eaton desired a secret agent to deliver a message to Hamet. He deserted the Turks and sought Captain Eaton, who employed him.
With one attendant and two dromedaries, he entered the desert in search of the Arab tribe that had given shelter to Hamet. The only sleep he secured was what he could snatch on the back of his beast; he fed his animals small balls composed of meal and eggs. Reaching the camp in safety, he was cordially received, and refreshed with coffee. Hamet agreed to the American proposals, and one night with one hundred and fifty followers, he rode away from the Mameluke camp as if on an ordinary ride, but instead he rode to our camp with Leitensdorfer.
It had been decided that our route of march should be over the Libyan desert, along the sea-coast, to the town of Derne. The Viceroy at Alexandria, bribed by the French consul, forbade us to enter the city or to embark from the harbor. We were not troubled by this order, however, because Hamet said that if he went by ship along the coast while the Arabs were left to cross the desert, they would soon lose heart and turn back.
Our object in attacking the Tripolitan cities of Derne and Bengazi was to cut off the enemy's food supplies; to open a channel for intercourse with the inland tribes; and to use these cities as recruiting places for our attack on Tripoli.
The desert lay ahead of us—the place of which an ancient traveler once said: "How can one live where not a drop of rain falls; where not a single dish is to be had; where butter can no more be procured than the philosopher's stone; where wheat is the diet of kings alone; where the common man lives on dates, and fever has its headquarters?"
Except for oases here and there, the Libyan desert is so barren that there is no animal life. At the oases,towns have been in existence since the days of the Romans. In one of these, Ghadames, the streets are covered from the sun, and give the traveler the impression that he is entering a mine. Caravan roads run from oasis to oasis. Donkeys, horses and cattle are used as beasts of burden, but the camel is the chief of desert animals.
Tripoli extends for many hundreds of miles along the coast from Tunis to Egypt. Its cities and oases contain about a million people. Along its caravan routes traders bring ostrich feathers, elephant tusks, and other products from Central Africa to be shipped to Europe.
Into this desert we push, a motley army. Arab adventurers have gathered around Hamet, sheiks and tribesmen who are moved only by a hope of plunder and reward. Our own American forces can be depended on, but how few they are. The six marines are a good-natured, independent set, sufficient unto themselves. They look at the Greek soldiers whom the Greek captain has enlisted with great amusement, for the Greeks wear kilts. However, they too are good-humored, and the Americans and Greeks may be counted on to stick together, being Christians, against the semi-hostile infidels.
Our food consists of dates, figs, apricots, camel's meat, and camel's milk. After a while even these will grow scarce and famine will confront us as it confronted Jacob and his sons in this same country, but for the present let us not look forward to hunger.
At the front of our caravan, on swift camels bred for racing, ride the sheiks. Trained to be on the watch for robber bands, they survey the horizon keenly, although our expedition is so large that there is little needto fear attack. Thieves will steal up to plunder at night, but they dare not attempt robbery in force.
Behind these picturesque chiefs, come the freight camels, loaded with all kinds of equipment and supplies. They are drab and sullen as the desert itself. On these beasts ride their owners, Bedouins in long, white or brown gowns, wrapped so that only their faces may be seen.
Our water we carry in pigskins, loaded on certain camels. There are also jugs of oil. The water tastes like the pigskin, and it almost sickens one to drink it.
We follow no path or road; there is none; yet our guides know the way by rocks and hills or other marks. At night the stars are our only guides, but the march has been arranged so that we camp near a well or spring every night.
When we stop to rest, the camels kneel down to be relieved of their burdens. Their feet are examined to see if they have been bruised, and such wounds are treated and bound up, after which the camels are hobbled to keep them from running away.
Meanwhile, our tents are being pitched. We smooth out the soft sand to make a comfortable bed. We have brought fuel with us, and with this a fire is made. Guards are stationed, and we sleep with our guns near our hands. The Mohammedans in our party, after first rubbing their faces and hands with sand because water is not to be had, kneel in prayer.
During the day the sun beats upon us with almost unbearable heat, and as there are no clouds in the sky, the sun's rays, striking against the white sand, almost blind us, while to make things more uncomfortable, the camels raise a thick dust. We understand now why the Arabswear cloths about their heads. We follow their example, and cut slits in the cloths for eyes and nose. After the sun goes down it is better for traveling.
It is lucky for us that we are sailors and used to a rolling motion, for the motion of the camel is like that of a ship.
A sand storm comes. A small black cloud arises and grows till in a short time it has half covered the sky. The sand begins to blow, and beats into our faces like hail. We stop the caravan; the camels kneel; and fighting off terror, we lie down with our faces in the ground beside the beasts. The blowing sand is so thick that it hides the sun.
The storm passes quickly. There has been, for all the blackness of the clouds, no drop of rain.
After the sun goes down, the air becomes cool and blankets are needed. The sky is full of low-hanging stars and the moon is big and mellow.
Once in a while we meet a wandering tribe that moves from green place to green place with their animals, living in tents of camels'-hair cloth. "Aleikoom salaam!" (Peace be with you!) they call to us, bobbing up and down on their camels. "Salaam aleikoom!" (With you be peace!) we answer. Bands of robbers appear in the distance. At the oases we meet farmers who are not given to roving. They have priests and sheiks, and worship in mosques, and raise grain and vegetables. Once in a while a hospitable sheik roasts a kid on a stick and invites us to dine. Fingers are forks here. We find it so highly seasoned with red pepper that our mouths burn and our eyes water.
The approach of a caravan is picturesque and exciting. First you hear a moaning sound like the wailing of astrong wind through a clump of trees. Then a cloud appears on the horizon. In a few moments you see that this cloud is of dust, and that in its midst are scores of camels. The rumbling noise you heard is found to be merely the gurgling sound that camels make.
It was also interesting to observe a caravan go into camp. The foreleg of each camel was folded and tied to keep the beast from wandering; baby camels, their white coats contrasting strongly with the dark brown color of their parents' coats, knelt by their hobbled mothers.
The owners of the camels busied themselves in driving stakes for their tents, while the women occupied themselves by arranging the palanquins in which they and their little ones traveled on the backs of the camels. These palanquins are no more or less than woolen tents made of red blankets supported on the camels' backs by a framework of tree branches. The camel's hump is wrapped around by woolen stuffs and on each side of the hump a woman sits, surrounded by babies and bundles, but protected by the canopy from the sun.
At some of the oases we passed we saw bronzed, graceful women and girls weaving carpets and ornamenting veils and blankets. Two women worked at an upright loom. One of these spinners unwound the skeins of wool while the other wove, using her fingers as a shuttle. Peeping into one of their tents I saw the entire family sitting around a wooden dish, into which all dipped, while kids and dogs tried to poke their heads between the children, eager to have a share in the repast.
The date palms were the principal trees at these oases. Nature, when this land became a desert, yet provided the date palm to sustain the life of the desert people. Eachtree yields a hundred pounds or more of dates yearly for a century. The green dates taste like unripe persimmons but the ripe dates are sugary and delicious. The Arabs call the date the bread of the desert and besides using it as a main food, feed it also to their camels and dogs.
It was on March 6th, 1805, that we broke camp and began our fifty days' march across the desert—a journey that required all of the American grit we could muster to carry on. Hunger and rebellion and the wavering of Hamet himself had to be endured, and Arab chiefs had continually to be coaxed and bribed.
There were ten Americans in the party: General Eaton, Lieutenant O'Bannon; Mr. Peck, a non-commissioned officer, six marines, and myself. The rest of the force was composed of a party of twenty-five cannoniers and their three officers; thirty-eight Greek soldiers and their two officers; Hamet Bashaw's company of ninety men; and a party of Arab cavalry under the command of the Sheiks il Taiib and Mahamet, including footmen and camel drivers. Our entire force numbered about four hundred and our caravan consisted of one hundred and seven camels and a few asses.
After a day's march the first trouble occurred. The owners of the camels and horses we had hired demanded pay in advance, but General Eaton foresaw that if the money were advanced they would be in a position to desert if they became dissatisfied, and he refused to comply with their demands. They then became mutinous. To make matters worse the Sheik il Taiib insinuated to them that if they performed their services withoutgetting paid, we would be apt to cheat them out of their wages.
General Eaton appealed to Hamet but found him undecided and despondent, and at last he made a bold move by ordering the Christians to take up their arms and to march back to Alexandria, threatening to abandon both the expedition and Hamet unless the march proceeded forward at once. The expedition was resumed.
After we had marched about seventy-five miles through low sand valleys and rocky, desert plains, a courier met us, sent to us by some of Hamet's friends at Derne. He informed us that the province was arming to assist our cause.
We chanced to be near the ruins of a castle of Greek design. Because of the good news the Arabs entertained us with feats of horsemanship, firing their rifles as they rode. This sport, however, came close to bringing on a serious disaster. Our Arabs, who were on foot and who were yet at a distance, bringing up the baggage, heard the firing and thought that we had been attacked by wild Arabs of the desert. Thereupon they attempted to disarm and put to death the Christians who were in their party. One old Arab, however, advised them to postpone the slaughter until they learned the cause of the firing. This counsel they heeded, and the lives of the Christians were saved.
One night, not long after, a musket, a bayonet, cartridges, and all of our stores of cheese were stolen from one of our tents by the Arabs.
When we had reached an ancient castle in the desert called by the Arabs, Masroscan, another rebellion occurred. Here we found vestiges of old walls, gardens, and mansions that showed that people of refined tasteshad lived there in the dim past. Now a few Arab families lived in tents among the ruins. Here and there were patches of wheat and barley, and miserable cattle, sheep, goats, and fowl searched the ground for sustenance.
We learned that the Bashaw had directed the caravan to proceed only to as far as this place, and that its owners had received no part of their promised pay. General Eaton's cash was low, but he managed to borrow one hundred and forty dollars among the Christian officers and men, and turned over to Hamet Bashaw six hundred and seventy-three dollars, with which he settled the claims of the chiefs of the caravan. Upon this they agreed to march two days more, but in the night all these camel-drivers withdrew and turned their camels towards Egypt.
Hamet Bashaw favored leaving the baggage at the castle and marching on in the hope of hiring other camels, but, since we were now without cash, General Eaton rejected this advice, as it would mean proceeding without provisions and with no money to obtain fresh supplies.
Then the mischief-maker, Sheik il Taiib, reinforced by other sheiks, declared that they would proceed no farther until we had sent forward a messenger to learn if our American warships were awaiting our arrival at Bomba, a sea-coast town on the route to Derne. These chiefs had heard that an army of cavalry and foot soldiers had been sent from Tripoli to the defence of Derne, and they wanted assurances that our navy was at hand to help us against them.
"We will delay for no messenger!" General Eaton declared, "as long as you halt here I will stop your rations."
To his companions he said: "If they persist in theircourse, we will seize the castle, fortify ourselves, and send word to our fleet to send a naval expedition to our relief!"
Then he added: "We have marched a distance of two hundred miles through an inhospitable waste of world, but we are bound across this gloomy desert on pursuits vastly different from those which lead fanatics to Mecca; we go to liberate three hundred Americans from the chains of barbarism!"