Of course it was. Everybody in the fleet, from the commodore to the powder monkey, was thinking about it. They must do something, and the sooner the better.

Even Captain Bainbridge in his prison cell wrote several letters with lemon juice, which could be read on being held to the fire, and sent them to Preble. These letters contained plans for sinking the ill-fated ship.

Every one of Preble's young captains was eager to try it. It might mean glory, and promotion, or perhaps failure, and death.

Somehow or other all looked to the dashing Stephen Decatur; for from the first he had taken a leading part in planning the desperate deed.

{161} "For the honor of the flag, sir, the ship must be destroyed.

She must never be allowed to sail under that pirate flag," said Commodore Preble to Decatur.

"My father was the ship's first commander," replied the young officer, whose fine black eyes gleamed, "and if I can only rescue her, it will be glory enough for a lifetime."

"You have spoken first," said the commodore, "and it is only right that you should have the first chance."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Commodore Stephen Decatur]

No time was lost. All hands went to work.

What was their plan?

With a vessel made to look like a Maltese trader, and with his men dressed like Maltese sailors, Decatur meant to steal into the harbor at night, set fire to the Philadelphia, and then make a race for life.

A short time before this, Decatur had captured a small vessel, known as a ketch. As this kind of boat was common here, n.o.body would suspect her.

{162} The little craft, now named the Intrepid, was soon loaded with all kinds of things that would catch fire easily.

On board the Enterprise on the afternoon of February 3, 1803, the order was, "All hands to muster!"

"I want sixty-one men out of this ship's crew," said Decatur, "to leave to-morrow in the Intrepid, to help destroy the Philadelphia.

Let each man who wants to go take two steps ahead."

With a cheer, every officer, every sailor, and even the smallest powder boys stepped forward. No wonder the young captain's fine face beamed with joy.

"A thousand thanks, my men," he said, and the tears came into his eyes; "I am sorry, but you can't all go. I will now choose the men I want to take with me." He picked out about sixty of the youngest and most active.

"Thankee, sir," said each man when his name was called.

Besides his own younger officers and his surgeon, Decatur took five young officers from the Const.i.tution, and a Sicilian pilot named Catalano, who knew the harbor of Tripoli.

That same evening, the little ketch, with its crew of some seventy-five men, sailed out of the harbor of Syracuse amid three l.u.s.ty cheers. The war brig Siren went with her.

In four days, the two vessels reached the harbor of Tripoli, but a bad storm drove them off sh.o.r.e. What a time they had for six days!

The Intrepid was a poor {163} affair at best, and there was no shelter from the fury and the cold of the storm. The sailors slept on the hard deck, nibbled what little ship bread was not water-soaked,-- for they had lost all their bacon,--and caught rain water to drink.

In cold, hunger, and wet, these men, like true American sailors, sang their songs, cracked their jokes, and kept up their courage.

After a week, the fury of the storm abated, the bright sunshine brought comfort, and the two vessels set sail for Tripoli.

As they drew near the coast, towards evening, the wind was so light that the Siren was almost becalmed. The Intrepid, however, met a light breeze, which sped her toward the rocky harbor.

Decatur saw that his best hope now was to make a bold dash, without waiting for the brig.

"Never mind, boys," he said, "the fewer the number, the greater the glory. Keep your heads level; obey orders every time; and do your duty."

About sunset, the ketch with her alert crew came in sight of the white-walled city. They could see the chain of forts and the frowning castle. The tall black hull and the shining masts of the Philadelphia stood out boldly against the bright blue African sky. Two huge men-of-war and a score of gunboats were moored near her. {164} The harbor was like a giant cavern, at the back of which lay the Philadelphia, manned by pirates armed to the teeth, who were waiting for an attack from the dreaded Americans.

Into these jaws of death, Decatur boldly steered his little craft.

The breeze was still fresh. It would never do to take in sail, for the ever-watchful pirates would think it strange. So spare sails and buckets were towed astern to act as a drag, for fear they should reach their goal too early.

The men now hid themselves by lying flat upon the deck, behind the bulwarks, the rails, and the masts. Only a few persons, dressed like Maltese sailors, could be seen. Decatur stood calmly at the wheel by the side of Catalano, the pilot.

"We lay packed closer than sardines in a box, and were still as so many dead men," said one of the men long afterwards to his grandchildren.

About nine o'clock the moon rose, and by its clear light the ketch was steered straight across the blue waters for the bows of the Philadelphia.

"Vessel ahoy! What vessel is that?" shouted an officer of the frigate, as the Intrepid boldly came nearer.

Decatur whispered to his pilot.

"This is the ketch Stella, from Malta," shouted Catalano, in Italian.

"We have lost our anchors, and were nearly wrecked in the gale; we want to ride near you during the night."

{165} "All right! but only until daylight," replied the officer, and ordered a line to be lowered.

Without a moment's delay, a boat under the command of young Lawrence put off from the Intrepid. On meeting the pirate boat, he took the line and rowed back to the ketch.

The Americans, in their red jackets and fezzes, hauled away with a right good will, and brought their little craft steadily in toward the huge black hull of the frigate, where they were soon being made fast under her port side.

As the ketch now drifted into a patch of moonlight, the pirate officer spied the anchors with their cables coiled up.

"Keep off! You have lied to me," he shouted, and ordered his men to cut the hawser.

As if by magic, the deck of the ketch swarmed with men, whose strong arms forced their vessel up against the side of the Philadelphia.

"Americans! Americans!" cried the dazed Tripolitans.

"Board! board!" shouted Decatur, as he made a spring for the deck of the frigate, followed by his gallant men.

Although taken by surprise, the Tripolitans fought hard. They were called the best hand to hand fighters in the world, but they were no match for American sailors. As Preble's orders were "to carry all with the sword," no firearms were used. The only weapons {166} were cutla.s.ses. The watchword was "Philadelphia," which they were to use in the darkness.

The Americans formed a line from one side of the ship to the other, and, with Decatur as leader, swept everything before them on the main deck. On the gun deck, Lawrence and McDonough did the same thing. In fifteen minutes, every Tripolitan had been cut down or driven overboard. In spite of the close, sharp fighting, not one of our men received a scratch.

But now comes the tug of war! Every man knows exactly what to do, for he has been well drilled. Some hand up kegs of powder and b.a.l.l.s of oak.u.m soaked in tar. Others carry these along the deck and down below. Now they drag two eighteen-pounders amidships, double-shot them, and point them down the main hatch, so as to blow out the bottom of the ship. In a few minutes everything is ready.

"Start the fires!" A puff of smoke, a little blaze, then flames everywhere!

Quick and sharp comes the order to leap aboard the ketch. Decatur, sure that the work thus far is well done, is the last man to leave.

Now all are safe aboard the Intrepid. The order is given to cast off.