The Shining Sea (8 page)

For Bainbridge, the defeat was shattering.
“If my professional character be blotched,” he wrote to his wife, Susan, “—if an attempt be made to taint my honor—if I am censured, if it does not kill me, it would at least deprive me of the power of looking any of my race in the face.” Porter was deeply affected as well. As the years passed, he vowed that if he were ever in similar circumstances, he would never surrender.

Both Bainbridge and Porter were understandably concerned about Commodore Preble's reaction to their decisions. They knew he would be furious. Bainbridge had not only lost a frigate and all her men, but the American squadron—pathetically weak to begin with—was now reduced by another 30 percent, making it impossible for Preble to accomplish his mission. Adding to his chagrin was the fact that the frigate had been captured intact and could now be used against him. He wondered why Bainbridge had not succeeded in scuttling her, and why he and Porter had not led their men in a fight to the death, as Preble fancied he would have done in similar circumstances.
“Would to God, that the officers and crew of the
Philadelphia
, had one and all, determined to prefer death to slavery,” he wrote to the secretary of the navy. “It is possible that such a determination might have saved them from either.” At some level, Porter probably agreed with Preble—as brave a commander as ever wore the uniform.

Bainbridge and Porter hoped they would not have a long time to contemplate their disgrace. Prolonged captivity seemed unlikely. The bashaw would certainly want to ransom them for cash as fast as he could. And President Jefferson would undoubtedly want to end the embarrassment quickly and pay for their release. Of course, reaching an agreement between the two governments might still be difficult. The price the bashaw
demanded might be excessive, and Preble might not have enough of a squadron left to force the bashaw's hand. The prisoners would then have to brace themselves for a long confinement. As it turned out, Karamanli insisted on receiving $3 million, a sum that was preposterous, and guaranteed a long incarceration, unless the navy freed them by force.

The Americans now had no idea how long their imprisonment would last, or how Karamanli would treat them. They hoped he would keep them in good health because of their ransom value, but they could not be sure. The Tripolitan secretary of state, Sidi Mohammed D'Ghies, took charge of them. Fortunately, he recognized their worth, and from the beginning, treated them decently. He spoke fluent French, which greatly eased communications. The rest of the Tripolitans followed his example, at least at the start.

Porter, Bainbridge, and the other officers were housed in the comfortable residence of the former American consul. They gave their parole not to attempt an escape, which permitted Karamanli to relax his guard somewhat. They were left pretty much on their own. The moody, depressed Bainbridge occupied a separate room and kept largely to himself, writing letters, and letting Porter and Lieutenant Jacob Jones supervise the other officers. Porter and Jones organized a school for the midshipmen, expanding their knowledge of seamanship, mathematics, navigation, gunnery, and even fleet sailing.

D'Ghies allowed the Danish consul, Nicholas C. Nissen, to attend to the officers' basic needs. An industrious, sensitive man, Nissen improved their lives immeasurably, supplying bedding and food, handling their mail, and bringing them books. Porter spent much of his leisure time studying. He had always been preoccupied with improving his mind. Although not formally educated beyond elementary school, he was already well-read.
With books provided by Nissen, Porter now studied history, French, English grammar, and drawing.

As might be expected, the crew received quite different treatment. Kept apart from the officers, hands were locked in a single large, dank cell in the basement of the castle. Later they were moved to a primitive warehouse in a different part of the city, where they had to lie on the damp, cold ground, eat bad bread, and do hard labor. Their drivers constantly beat them. The slightest infraction resulted in being bastinadoed, that is,
beaten on the soles of the feet with a hard stick. This brutal treatment resulted in nine deaths. Meanwhile, the
Philadelphia
's carpenter and other skilled workmen, such as blacksmiths, riggers, and sail makers, were compelled to help restore the frigate. The distress of any individual crewmember could be relieved if he converted to Islam, but in the long months of captivity and suffering, only five did.

Meanwhile, Bainbridge managed to send letters to Preble at Malta explaining what had happened. The bashaw allowed the letters to be transmitted. His agents scrutinized the contents before forwarding them, of course, but Bainbridge fooled the censors by using invisible ink on part of the paper. The alert censors soon found out, but then Bainbridge changed to another type of invisible ink the Tripolitans failed to detect, and his messages got through. He urged Preble to either recapture or destroy the
Philadelphia
.

Preble did not need any prodding; he had been studying the matter since the surrender and had concluded there was no real chance of retrieving the frigate. He settled on a plan to demolish her and chose young Stephen Decatur Jr. to lead the expedition. It was a fitting appointment, for Decatur's father, Revolutionary War hero Stephen Decatur, had been the
Philadelphia
's first captain, and had superintended her construction.

On February 16, 1804, Decatur and a carefully picked crew of volunteers slipped into Tripoli's harbor in a captured Tripolitan ketch (
Mastico
) that Preble had renamed
Intrepid
. They took the
Philadelphia
's guards by surprise, and burned the frigate, destroying her beyond repair and escaping amid a shower of gunfire from angry Tripolitans ashore. Despite the fire and the fusillade from dozens of shore batteries, Decatur suffered only one wounded and no deaths.

Porter and the other captive officers saw the flames and were overjoyed, even though they knew the bashaw would retaliate against them. He did, removing them from the comfort of their residence and confining them to a dungeon in the center of the castle, where no air or light could penetrate except through a small iron grate in the ceiling. In addition to foul air and terrible food, they were plagued by noxious reptiles.

The new treatment was so severe that Porter now considered the officers released from their promise not to escape, and they made three attempts, which he led. All were thwarted, however. The bashaw was
furious, but the prospect of ransoming them restrained him. So too did the likelihood of ransoming the rest of the crew, although they were treated even more harshly now as well.

Unfortunately for Porter and the other prisoners, the burning of the
Philadelphia
and Preble's subsequent attacks on Tripoli did not secure victory. It was not until June 3, 1805, nineteen long months after the
Philadelphia
's surrender, that Tobias Lear, an experienced diplomat who had once been George Washington's private secretary, signed a peace treaty and obtained the prisoners' release. Lear was able to reach an agreement with the stubborn bashaw because President Jefferson finally sent a fleet with enough firepower to force Karamanli's hand. The fleet arrived off Tripoli on September 10, 1804, but its commander, Commodore Samuel Barron, who superseded Preble, was ailing and ineffective, so the war dragged on inconclusively. It was not until the spring of 1805 that Commodore John Rodgers finally used American naval superiority off Tripoli to force Karamanli to come to terms. As part of the peace treaty, the bashaw received $60,000 in ransom money for 293 prisoners—a tiny fraction of what he had originally demanded. The hostages, although they had been cruelly treated at times, were in surprisingly good health.

In June 1805, a naval court of inquiry examined all the evidence concerning the
Philadelphia
disaster, including testimony from her officers. It judged Bainbridge's actions reasonable under the circumstances, a verdict that President Jefferson endorsed and the country accepted.

The ordeal had a lasting impact on Bainbridge and Porter. They may have been exonerated, but the cumulative effect of an ignominious defeat and long captivity, made a permanent imprint on their psyches. Bainbridge, given his history, suffered the most.
“I have zealously served my country and strenuously endeavored to guard against accidents,” he wrote to Preble, “but in spite of every effort misfortune has attended me through my naval life—Guadeloupe and Algiers have witnessed part of them, but Tripoli strikes the death blow to my future prospects.” Porter was less open about his feelings, but he was also deeply affected in a way that would influence his decisions, particularly in battle, from then on.

The widespread acclaim heaped on Stephen Decatur Jr. for his daring raid on the
Philadelphia
was also a source of dismay for Porter and Bainbridge.
Preble wrote to the secretary of the navy urging that Decatur, for
his gallant service, be promoted immediately from lieutenant to captain as an incentive for all naval officers. Needless to say, Preble did not express the same boundless admiration for Bainbridge and Porter.

Bainbridge was particularly apprehensive about Preble's opinion. It had taken some time after the
Philadelphia
's capture for communication between the two men to be established, and for Bainbridge to know for certain that Preble was receiving his letters. That period of silence had been torture for the captive. When letters finally began arriving from Preble, they had been reassuring. The commodore, not wanting to add to Bainbridge's burdens while he was in captivity, repeatedly gave him expressions of support, but Bainbridge worried that Preble might not mean them.

In fact, Preble had mixed feelings. His first reaction on hearing what had happened was to find fault. He thought that if Bainbridge had fought to the death instead of surrendering, he could have saved the men and the ship. After all, it was floated off the reef less than two days later. But on learning the exact circumstances facing Bainbridge and Porter, Preble relented and understood, to a degree, that they really had no other choice. Preble remained ambivalent, however. He undoubtedly felt that he would have handled the matter better than they did.

Continuing to be concerned about Preble's feelings, Bainbridge stayed in close touch with him, hoping that Preble would not change his mind and openly criticize him.
Bainbridge worried—far more than Porter—about the judgment others placed on his conduct. Bainbridge wrote to his wife on November 1, 1803, about, “an apprehension which constantly haunts me, that I may be censured by my countrymen. These impressions, which are seldom absent from my mind, act as a corroding canker at my heart.”

Porter was a changed man as well. He spoke less than Bainbridge did about his searing experience. But there is no doubt that surrendering an American frigate to a pirate state, spending nineteen months in captivity, and securing his freedom only by being ransomed, had a profound impact, and he craved an opportunity to redeem himself.

A
FTER THE FINAL VICTORY OVER
T
RIPOLI
, P
ORTER REMAINED IN
the Mediterranean for two more years in command of his old ship
Enterprise
. During that time an incident occurred that the Admiralty would
remember for years. It happened in the British port of Valetta in Malta, where Porter had the
Enterprise
anchored. A young, undoubtedly drunk, English tar came by in a rowboat shouting obscenities at the
Enterprise
. He was so intemperate that Porter hauled him aboard and gave him twelve lashes before sending him home. Sir Andrew Ball, the governor of Malta, was livid. He ordered Porter to remain in the harbor until the incident was reviewed. Porter ignored him, and despite threats that the
Enterprise
would be fired on if she attempted to leave, Porter sailed her past the formidable array of guns guarding the harbor entrance without incident. The Admiralty was furious that he had been let go. His name would be remembered in the Royal Navy for years. Whitehall had a score to settle.

CHAPTER

4

P
RIMED FOR
B
ATTLE

O
N
A
PRIL 22, 1806,
P
ORTER WAS PROMOTED TO
M
ASTER
Commandant. The following year he finally returned to the United States, arriving in New York in October 1807. He had been away for over six years.

The next few months were a busy time for him. He became fast friends with young Washington Irving, whose literary prowess was just beginning to be recognized in New York with the publication of his satirical magazine
Salmagundi
. Sea officers with extensive combat experience fascinated Irving. His father had once been a petty officer in the Royal Navy. Porter for his part admired Irving's erudition. They became part of a group of accomplished young men who partied together at various New York taverns, and at Crockloft Hall, the New Jersey estate of the fabulously wealthy Gouverneur Kemble.