The fleet had not been idle while we fought our way across the desert. Letters awaited us at Bomba, brought us by one of the naval vessels. A long epistle, with a thrill in every paragraph, was the combined work of Samuel Childs and Reuben James. It gave an account of the gallant way in which Reuben saved his idol Stephen Decatur's life in a hand-to-hand conflict between the crews of our gunboats and those of the corsairs. The part describing Reuben's part was written by Samuel, and bore in the margin a sentence of protest scrawled by the modest Reuben. Here is the story as I gleaned it:

The gunboats were sent in to attack the enemy's fleet in two divisions, one led by Stephen Decatur and the other by Richard Somers. The Moslems were past masters of this art of boarding. Decatur and Somers were therefore leading their men to do battle with these ferocious fighters under severe handicaps.

Our habit of boarding dismayed Joseph. He had thought that his men were invincible in a fight on a ship's deck.

The mode of attack used by the corsairs was always by boarding. Their vessels were so made that it was easy for them to go on board an enemy. Their lateen yards were so long that they projected over the deck of the vessel approached. The infidels used these as a passageway from their vessel to the prize. Then, from all points of their riggings and from all quarters of their decks, the pirates would leap on board the attacked ship. That they might have free use of their hands in climbing the gunwales of the vessel, they carried their sabres grasped between their teeth, and had loaded pistols in their belts. As they swarmed aboard, thus armed, they were a terrifying sight. They were taught by their religion that if they died in battle with Christians their salvation was assured, so they fought desperately. But Joseph, scornful of America, without knowing what fighters her sons were, now found his fiercest warriors slain by men who could board ship and give battle on deck with even more strength and bravery than his own captains.

Decatur, who had charge of the foremost three boats, had to bear the brunt of the fighting. Opposed to his three boats were nine Tripolitan boats, well armed and crowded with men.

Reuben James was in Decatur's boat. The first gun Decatur fired was loaded with a thousand musket balls in a bag. The shot wrought terrific damage on board the vessel selected for the attack. The captain fell dead with fourteen of the musket balls lodged in his body. Thus far Captain Decatur had had easy work.

Lieutenant James Decatur, Stephen's brother, had commanded the second boat. He had been treacherously slain. The Moor in charge of the boat he attacked hauled down its flag at the first fire. James Decatur then directed his men to board, but as his boat approached the Tripolitan craft, the cunning captain shot Decatur dead, and while the dismayed Americans gathered around their leader, the Moor hauled off his boat.

News soon reached Stephen of the loss of his brother and away he went in vengeful pursuit of the slayer of James. He overhauled the boat and led his men aboard in a fierce charge. Reuben was at his heels. The Moorish captain was a powerful brute; he had all the weapons a man could carry, and he was as desperate as a treed wildcat.

Stephen Decatur, however, went at his huge foe in a way that meant death either to the Moor or himself. The infidel met Decatur's rush with his pike, while Decatur depended on his sword. Reuben James was busy disposing of an infidel. Before he tackled another, he looked to see what headway the captain was making. Imagine how taken aback he was to see Decatur staggering back from a pike stab in the breast. He slashed his way towards his leader, but, as luck would have it, a shot lodged in his right hand and a moment later a jab from a spear disabled his left arm.

Meanwhile Decatur, nothing daunted by his wound, had brought his sword into play. The blade, meeting a savage blow from the pike, broke off at the hilt. Reuben saw Decatur dart in past the Moor's weapon, and grapple with him. An Arab sneaked up in the captain's rear and aimed a blow at his head. Reuben then threw his own disabled body between Decatur and his second foe. The blow landed on his head, and he sank to the deck crippled and half senseless. He could see Decatur and the Moorish captain fall to the deck, with the infidel on top. The Moor had one arm free and with it he drew a knife. Reuben closed his eyes. Then he heard a shot and opened them again. In Decatur's hand was a smoking pistol, and the slayer of his brother lay dead at the captain's feet.

From the rest of the letter I gathered facts that gave me a fair idea of the progress of the campaign.

The third boat in Decatur's division was commanded by John Trippe, sailing master. Trippe killed a Moorish captain in much the same manner as Decatur slew his adversary. As he led his men across the side of a Tripolitan vessel, his own boat was swept away from the side before all of his party could board. Thus Trippe, with another officer and nine men, was left to face thirty-six infidels. Trippe determined, as his one hope of victory, to kill the captain, a man of great height and strength. He came as near to death as did Decatur, receiving eleven wounds. At last, when the Moor had forced him down so that he was fighting with one knee on deck, he caught his foe off guard and stabbed him to death with a pike. Fourteen of the infidels had been slain by the Americans and the remaining twenty-two now surrendered. None of the Americans were killed. Richard Somers, who commanded the other three boats, was prevented from following Decatur along the inside route he took, yet he found means to capture three Moorish gunboats and to sink three others.

Reuben James passes out of my story here, but it is due him that I skip several years and tell how when doctors were about to amputate, because an old wound had diseased a bone in his leg, he exclaimed: "Doctor, you are the captain, Sir. Fire away; but I don't think it is shipshape to put me under jury masts when I have just come into harbor."

From other correspondence we learned how Commodore Preble, while his gunboats were thus engaged, sailed into the harbor on board the Constitution, with Captain Chauncey in command, and bombarded the forts. The ship was excellently handled. Her crew tacked and made sail under the guns of the enemy with as much coolness and skill as if there were no guns trained on them. Several times the Constitution passed within three cables' length of the batteries on shore, and silenced them. But the moment the frigate passed on, the silenced batteries were manned again. The monarch had thousands of soldiers at his command and continued to drive fresh gunners to the batteries.

On another day a Tripolitan fleet of five gunboats and two galleys came out to attempt to capture or destroy certain gunboats of the American fleet lying near the harbor. Commodore Preble signaled to the brigs and schooners under his command to meet the raiders, and these ships poured such a hot fire upon the Moslem flotilla that they were forced to turn back.

The grape-shot fired by the Americans during these engagements swept the enemy's decks of men, and worried the gunmen on shore so badly that it spoiled their aim, so that the Constitution was but slightly damaged, and had none killed and only one man wounded.

THE DEATH OF SOMERS

Now, came news of the tragedy of the campaign. It was decided to use the ketch Intrepid as a fireship to destroy the enemy's shipping. Captain Somers volunteered to take command of her, and Lieutenant Wadsworth volunteered to go with him. Ten men went with them—six volunteers from the Constitution and four volunteers from the Nautilus. Two small boats were taken, so that the party could escape from the floating mine after they had lighted the fuses. The Intrepid started upon her perilous duty on September 4th. Lieutenant Joseph Israel of the Constitution arrived at the moment of getting under way and asked permission to go along. Somers consented.

The night was dark, and the other American ships soon lost sight of the ketch. She was discovered, however, by the Tripolitans as she was entering the harbor, and their batteries opened fire.

Suddenly, the night was lit by terrifying flashes. A series of explosions shook land and water. A shower of sparks arose. The powder on board the Intrepid had prematurely exploded, and left nothing on the face of the harbor but scorched fragments. All of her officers and men were killed. Their mangled bodies floated ashore and were found by the people of Tripoli.

What caused the explosion remains a mystery. Commodore Preble thought that the Intrepid had been attacked and boarded by a Tripolitan gun-boat, and that Captain Somers, rather than be taken captive, himself exploded the powder; or else that the fire from the batteries caused so much damage that Somers saw that escape was impossible and chose death to surrender. This reasoning was partly based on the fact that Somers and his men had boasted that they would die rather than be captured. The squadron was greatly affected by this tragedy. Decatur had special reason to grieve, because Somers had been his schoolmate, and had given Decatur, before sailing, tokens to remember him by if he did not return.

I learned with amazement that Commodore Preble had been recalled. Although he had conducted a fight that had won for the American navy lasting glory, the navy department had thought it best to call him home and to put Commodore Samuel Barron, who was his senior, in his place. Commodore Preble was notified of this with much praise and apology. No wonder was it that his going was lamented. His fifty-three officers joined in a letter of regret. English officers praised his work. The Pope said that "the American commander, with a small force and in a short space of time, had done more for the cause of Christianity than the most powerful nations of Christendom had done for ages."

The Commodore had labored under great handicaps. Congress had not supported his requests for ships and supplies, and those that came were long delayed. The food sent him was poor. He was forced to depend largely on foreign seamen.

Commodore Preble was deeply regretful at not being able to carry the campaign against Tripoli through to final victory, and also mortified that, with success in sight, he should be recalled. He went home an almost heartbroken man, although his record must stand out as one of the most brilliant in our naval history.

If the bold Preble had continued in command of the squadron, there is little doubt that when he saw what Eaton was doing at Derne he would have begun an attack on Tripoli that would have brought Joseph Bashaw to his knees.

The one good reason advanced as to why General Eaton's expedition should have ended at Derne was that if it approached Tripoli, the Americans held prisoners there might have been killed by Joseph Bashaw when his city was attacked. He threatened that, in an extremity, he would slay the prisoners. Several of the officers who were in captivity held this fear. Yet Commodore Rodgers wrote afterwards to the Secretary of the Navy:

"I never thought myself that the lives of the American prisoners were in any danger." Lieutenant Wormely, a midshipman held in captivity, also testified before a Senate committee that: "I do not believe that there was any danger to be apprehended for our lives."