February 16, 1804

To the Shores of Tripoli: Or, New World Heroes in Old World Waters.

The USS Philadelphia burning in Tripoli Harbor during the First Barbary War.

Grab a life preserver folks, because this blog has been lost at sea for several days, and today shows no signs of rescue. Yesterday we discussed an event that was pivotal in the emergence of the United States as naval world power, so today we'll look back at one of the nation's first moments on the international stage.

Known for orchestrating the African slave trade and for providing safe haven to pirates, the Berbers on the North African coast had plagued Western empires for generations by the turn of the 19th Century. Powers like Great Britain and France avoided headaches in the Mediterranean by paying the Berbers to leave their ships alone. The new United States also payed exorbitant sums for the free passage of their vessels, since the US Navy had been decommissioned after the Revolutionary War.

After the inauguration of President Thomas Jefferson in 1801, the Pasha, or governor, of the Barbary States demanded a tribute of over $200,000. With a national budget of only $10 million and newly reinstated navy, Jefferson decided the era of ransom and tributes had come to a close. In response, the Pasha declared war on the United States, and American ships were sent to the Mediterranean in what would be known as the First Barbary War.

The Philadelphia, stranded in the harbor during the winter of 1803-4.

American naval vessels enjoyed enormous success during the war, but at the end of October, 1803, the frigate USS Philadelphia ran aground on a hidden reef in Tripoli harbor, modern day Libya. Attempts to free the frigate failed, and her crew was forced into slavery. Deciding that the ship was too great a prize to fall into the hands of the enemy, a plan was made to try and recapture her, or if that failed, destroy her.

On February 16, 1804, a small detachment of sailors and marines led by naval Lieutenant Stephen Decatur, Jr., snuck into the harbor in a captured Berber boat, pretending to be in distress. The trap was sprung when they neared the Philadelphia, as Decatur's men leaped aboard and into hand-to-hand combat with the Berber guards. A skirmish ensued, and a sailor named Reuben James cemented himself into maritime lore by jumping in front of an enemy making a lunge at Decatur.




Reuben James, at right in foreground, moves between his commander Stephen Decatur, bottom, and an enemy's raised sword on board the Philadelphia.






The Americans took control of the ship and burned her where she lay in the harbor. Decatur and James survived the brief battle, earning laurels as some of America's first heroes since the Revolutionary War. The feat gained so much notoriety that no less an authority than Lord Horatio Nelson, a year before his victory at Trafalgar, called the raid on the Philadelphia "The most bold and daring act of the age."

We understand that the last few days make this blog seem like a Navy recruitment poster, but the story of Decatur and his men deserved the spotlight today. In the United States' first venture overseas after gaining independence, the young nation showed the world that the standards set by powers like Great Britain and France would not always hold for Americans. Also, the actions during the First Barbary War inspired part of the Marine's Hymn, "From the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli." Hopefully that proves to our readers that while we may cover the Navy from time to time, our true loyalties should never be questioned.