Commodore Edward Preble, Commander USS Constitution

by

Louis J Dianni

Portrait of Edward Preble, Maine Historical Association

The sun was gaining  height in the sky and the coolness of the Falmouth, Maine morning giving way to the inevitable heat of a mid-summer day.  I peered down the length of  the smooth, wooden handle of my hoe and thought about the thousands of times my calloused hands had pulled that handle through the dirt.  Potatoes were not my forte.  Then I loosened my neckerchief  and unfastened the button of my placket that held the earlier air at bay. The bay… it was only a few miles from where I stood.  I took in a long breath.  Hoisted my hoe to the air and slammed it down on the weed-laden earth.   

My father,  “Brigadier”,  as they called him, earned his title as General in the French and Indian Wars.  I was determined to earn mine.  I was almost 17... a man!   I left my bewildered brother Enoch gazing after me.  At first my arms were tight to my sides but as I distanced the farm behind, I found my arms swinging in a freer motion as  I marched down the road towards Falmouth Harbor.    Ahh the harbor.  There she was.  Brightness nearly obliterated all.  Then my eyes fell sharp on a ship.  A brigantine.  How did I know that?  It was my father that educated me to the various types of rigging that defined a vessel’s type.   Looking through our spy glasses, we closely examined each one from the second story window of our fine, harbor front home on Thames Street.   I smiled as I recalled.  My smile quickly left . . .  

18 October 1775, 9:40 in the morning.  Nearly… two years ago.  A time and date I cannot obliterate from my memory.  A Flotilla of  ships entered Falmouth Harbor the day before.    British ensigns flapped at their sterns.  The fleet commander Lt. Henry Mowat gave warning that the following day his cannons would pummel the town and the townsfolk took him seriously.  Everyone evacuated.  True to his word, Mowat set the town ablaze.  Our fine home was one of the first destroyed.  Mowat set more than Falmouth ablaze that day.   He lighted a fire of insurgency in my soul. 

Two masts pierced the sky.  At that distance they seemed no larger than my hoe handle.  As I approached I could hear the waves slapping the side.  They seemed to applaud my arrival.  On the stern I could read the word “Hope”.  Hmm.  Underneath the words “New Bury Port”.  A  worthy looking man approached and offered his hand.  “Captain William Friend,“ said the man as he introduced himself to me which I replied,  “Edward Preble, sir.”   “I am looking for a  good man,” stated Captain Friend.    “To what task, sir?”  I inquired. Friend peered at my farmhand clothes and replied “First Mate.“  He laughed and then added, “Deck hand.”  I was  curious and asked, “To what purpose, sir?” to which Captain Friend replied “To capture British prizes.”   I counted the cannons.  Twelve total.  The Captain continued, “We have thirty nine men and are in need of one more.  Are you up to the task my lad?”  I  studied the lines that held fast the masts and guessed they were 40 feet or so to the platform, then I guessed another 40 feet or so to the top of the ball that capped the top mast.  From my view it went on forever.  Taking it all in I then exclaimed, “Yes Sir! I am. “  Thus began my career as a seaman. 

 I traded farm tools and calluses for seasickness and line burns, though after several days out, I spent far less time heaving over the gunwales.  My shipmates jibing abated.  It was on that first voyage to Europe and back… I learned my ropes.  I returned to Falmouth a Sea Man.

  Next I signed on with Henry Ellwell master of the sloop Merrimac, who knew of me, as he was from Falmouth as well.  I bid goodbye to my siblings, kissed my dear mother and shook my father’s hand.  I felt his pride in that adieu.  

The Merrimac lay at mooring a short distance out.  It was a near dead calm.  Tommy and I pulled the oars.  All were silent as the swirls of water pooled behind our boat.  Mr. Ellwell and his First mate, John Bale gazed back at Falmouth Harbor with Mowat’s destruction still discernible.   The clatter of the oars and the bumping alongside announced our arrival to the Merrimac.  We climbed aboard.  Mr. Ellwell carefully handed a painted box with leather handle, neatly labeled Merrimac’s Papers to John.   Tommy and I hoisted the boat on pulleys to just below the base of the warks at the stern.  We were bound for the  West Indies.  

 During the journey, we  kept the coast in our sight most of the time.  We were nine days out and had lost sight of land when Mr. Ellwell called to me, “Eddie, get the compass.”  I removed the lid from the turned, wooden bowl that held the wobbling card. “Check our course,” ordered Mr. Ellwell. “West by Southwest Sir,” I replied. “Then we should sight shore again in how long?” asked Mr. Ellwell, to which I replied with confidence, “About an hour sir!” He next took  a reading with his staff.  I believe he did this for my benefit.  It was about noon and the sun was at its high point.  He positioned himself with it at his back  and looked through the sight vane and aligned the slit in the horizon vane with the horizon. 

Edward Preble's Octant, Maine Historical Association                                                    

Carefully he adjusted the shadow vane so that it fell simultaneously on the slit.  The sum of the angles was read from the calibrated arcs of the instrument and gave Mr. Ellwell the precise angle of the sun above the horizon.  Next he went to his papers box and removed a list of dates and angles,  and using the chart, he was able to calibrate our latitude.   He explained that at the summer solstice, June 21, the local latitude is 90 degrees plus 23.5 degrees minus the angle of the sun above the horizon.  Using the adjustment chart for the current date July 1,  we determined our latitude to be 33 degrees 50 minutes.  That put our position just 46 minutes south of  Fear Cape.  I eagerly placed a marker on our coastal chart.  I felt satisfied that my father had insisted on having me educated at the Dummer School in Byfield, Massachusetts.  My other mates, though able seamen, had little or no formal education and could not comprehend these calculations.    All Tommy could say was, “Wizardry.“   We delivered our cargo and took on sugar and rum for the return voyage to Falmouth.  I carefully penned the quantities, prices and profit on the cargo we sold as well as the purchase price and quantities of the sugar and rum.   

It was a fine September day in 1803.  I awoke that morning to find a pleasant, warm air filled my quarters.  For the first time since I had left Boston I felt satisfied.   I pulled my jacket on and began to fasten my waistcoat with its gilded buttons.  My fingertips easily feeling the texture of the anchor raised up, on the smooth surface.   My hands were the hands of a gentle man, though my reputation was hard and earned.  Looking left then right, my eyes admired the cabin, at last falling on my shelved collection of leather bound books of which I was especially fond.    This was my cabin… for now.  The United States Ship Constitution was my command.   My purpose, as stated by President Jefferson was, by a show of force or the taking of prizes to satiate the demands of the members of the Barbary states:  Morocco, Algiers, Tunis and in particular that of the Pasha of Tripoli.   Barbary states had been demanding tribute payments from America for years and recently, those payments had risen to a staggering size, to allow our merchantmen passage and “free” trade through the Mediterranean. 

I walked on the deck of my command.  My ears isolated the flapping of  the broad pennant that signified I was also Commodore of my fleet.  A fleet that was to rendezvous at Gibraltar.   At my first council aboard the Constitution, I met the Lt. Commandants, Richard Somers, Isaac Hull, Charles Stewart, John Smith and Stephen Decatur.  Not one was over 25 years of age and none of them had much to offer when I asked their views of the situation, nor did they offer any strategies.  I spoke to Colonel  Lear,  Consul, in private after that meeting,   “I have been indiscreet in accepting this command.  Had I known how I was to be supported, I certainly should have declined it.  Government has sent me here a parcel of schoolboys, to command all my light craft.” A more senior officer, William Bainbridge, then 29 years of age,  commanded the only other heavier ship in the fleet,  the frigate Philadelphia, 36 guns. 

 One of my initial plans was to meet with Maulay Sulaimon, Emperor of Morocco, so we set sail for Tangier Bay.   After days of  waiting and then fanfare, we fired a salute from the cannons of the Constitution,  signaling the Emperor’s arrival in the city.   American Consul, Simpson and I,  as well as four others, were to audience with Sulaimon, the following day,  5 October. 

 Upon our arrival at the casbah, we  were instructed to leave our side arms at the door to which I replied, “I will not”.  We were ushered inside… with our fire arms. A small man wrapped in a woolen haik entered and took a seat on a pillow with his back against a column.  I did not know who this could be but was quickly informed by our interpreter.   Formalities of greetings and gifts aside, Sulaimon graciously agreed to trade prisoners and prizes.  More importantly, in a letter to President Jefferson, he ratified his intention to uphold the former treaty of 1786. This gave satisfactory terms to the United States with regards to reparations paid and he gave his word that American merchantmen would not be troubled.  

 However, Tripolitans were not so anxious to appease us  Americans.   They were openly committed to capturing our merchant vessels as they could.  Bainbridge was sent ahead to Tripoli to affect a blockade of that harbor.   An enemy cruiser engaged Philadelphia and Bainbridge struck off after her.  Tripolitan cruisers were smaller and more agile than the frigate and soon lead Bainbridge to an un-chartered bar and rock in their harbor.   Stuck, the frigate and all her crew were taken captive by the Tripolitans.   But not until after the crew had tried, to no avail,  to dismast and scuttle her.   News of the event reached me and when next I viewed the harbor through my glass, Philadelphia was now turned under the battery and fort thereby increasing the fire power of Tripoli. 

 I sent the Constitution and some of the squadron bent for Malta to regain supplies.  While there,  Lt. Stephen Decatur, no longer feeling the least bit shy, laid out a plan on the chart table of the Constitution.  “I want to finish the scuttling job of the Philadelphia, Commodore,”  he announced  to me.  Amazed, I replied, “How do you plan to accomplish such a feat?”  It seemed daring, yet plausible to me.  I could not help but recall the time more than a generation ago.   First Lt. was my rank, of the small cruiser Winthrop.  My scheme was  to  board an armed British brig lying on the Penobscot River under a fort at Castine, Maine.  With only 15 men, we caught the crew by surprise and were able to secure the vessel.   In spite of being under fire from the fort we sailed that brig out from under the noses of the British without the loss of a single comrad. 

 On 16 February our refined plan was launched.  Decatur captured a local vessel we named Ketch Intrepid.  A hidden crew of about 60 would be piloted by Salvatore Catalino.  He was an experienced, Sicilian sailor who knew Tripoli harbor well.  Silently they closed the distance to the Philadelphia.  Decatur and Catalino had disguised themselves as Moorish traders and about a hundred yards out were called to by the guards on the Philadelphia.  Catalino said he had lost his anchor and requested permission to moor alongside until morning.   Permission was granted but as they were fastening the lines, one of the guards noticed an anchor lying in the boat and sounded alarm.  The Intrepid’s crew leapt aboard with swords drawn and nearly immediately, bloodied the decks, killing about 20 Tripolitans.   The other Moors stationed on the Philadelphia dove for the water.   As planned, each boarder had his station and set fires simultaneously ablaze.   Decatur’s men all  narrowly escaped the fire themselves and as they looked back they saw the Philadelphia being consumed by the flames.   I was not the only one to bestow accolades on Lt. Stephen Decatur for his brave and successful actions.  When word reached Lord Nelson himself, that esteemed, British Admiral termed it the “the most bold and daring act of the age“.   

Events of 3 August 1804 exact, as I kept in my logbook on board the Constitution :  Attack on Tripoli 

Signaled out to come within hail all the vessels within my command and to speak to the Captains that it was my intention to attack the shipping and batteries.  At ¼ past 2 p. m. made the signal for the Bombs and Gunboats to attack the ships and batteries.  ½ past 2 released a general signal for battle.  The whole squadron advanced within point blank shot of the enemy’s batteries and shipping.  Gun boats in two divisions, the first consisting of three boats commanded by Capt. Somers.  The second of three boats Commanded by Capt. Decatur.  At  ¾ past 2 the action commenced on our side by throwing a shell into the town, and in an instant the whole squadron were engaged. The enemy’s gunboats were anchored with springs on.  The Eastern division of nine, the center of seven and the Western of five boats.  As the wind was from the Eastward our boats were ordered to lead into the Windward and attack the enemy.  The W. and C. division are closer under the batteries and within Grape(shot) distance of the Bashaw’s Castle and Fort English.  At 3 observed our gunboats in close action with the enemy boats while a tremendous fire was kept up by this ship(Constitution) and the rest of the Squadron.   Capt. Decatur #4,  Lt. Trippe of #6,  Lt. Bainbridge of #5  and Lt. James Decatur of #2 attacked the enemies boats with pistol shot.  #1 Capt. Somers fell to Leeward but fetched up with the Enemies rear of 5 boats which he gallantly attacked, disabled and drove in although within pistol shot of the batteries.  #3 Lt. Blake did not go into close action.  Had he gone down to the assistance of Capt. Somers, it is probable they would have captured the rear (West flank) boats.  Capt. Decatur boarded and after a stout and obstinate resistance took possession  of two of the Enemies Gun Boats.   Lt. Trip boarded and carried a third.  Lt. James Decatur in the act of boarding to take possession of a fourth boat was shot through the head and mortally wounded.  The officer next in command (Mn. Brown) hauled off.  Lt. Bainbridge had his latten yard shot away early in the action which prevented him from taking a boat but he had galled the Enemy by a steady fire within musket shot,  indeed he pursued the Enemy until his boat touched the ground under the Batteries.  The Bombs kept their stations which were well chosen by Lt . Dent and Lt. Robinson who commanded them and threw a number of shells into the town although the spray of the sea occasioned by the enemies shot almost covered them.  Three different times the enemies gunboats rallied and attempted to surround ours.  I as often made the signal to cover them, which was properly attended to by the Brigs and Schooners and the fire from this ship not only had the desired effect on the enemies flotilla by keeping them  in check and disabling them, but silenced one of their principal batteries for some time.  At ½ past 4 made the signal for the Bombs to retire from the action out of Gun Shot, and a few minutes after the general signal to cease firing and tow out the prizes and disabled boats. Fired two broadsides in stays which drove the Tripolines out of the Castle and brought down the steeple of a mosque.  Received Lt. James Decatur on board and he expired in a few moments.  All surgeons on board dressing the wounded.  …Officers, Seamen and Marines of the Squadron behaved gallantly…Summation:American casualtiesKilled, Lt. James DecaturWounded: Capt. (Stephen) Decatur(slight)Lt Tripp(severely)Marines and Seamen wounded, 10N.B .  Commodore Preble was nearly wounded when a round exploded a gun on deck and the pieces tore his clothing but he makes no mention in his log.Tripolitan LossesCaptured 3 gunboats, 36 men, plenty of muskets, pistols, pikes, sabers & etc.44 Tripolines killed, 52 made prisoners of which 26 were wounded(17 badly) 3 of which died soon afterward. The enemy must have suffered very much in killed and wounded among their shipping and on shore, one of their boats sunk in the harbor, several of them had their decks cleared by our shot.  Several shells burst in the Town which must have done great execution.  

This and subsequent battles made names for nearly all my officers and they say for me.  Though this did not put an end to the Wars with the Barbary States,  it did establish that, as Americans, we could cooperate and run a campaign of substantial action at a great distance from our shores.  The world would never underestimate our powers and what we accomplished, nor would they look upon the American Navy in a trifling way.    When Colonel Lear reminded me of my earlier schoolboy comment I replied “they were good schoolboys”.   The 106 points for rules of conduct and discipline I wrote for U. S. Navy Men while on duty in the Mediterranean would serve as an outline for all Seamen including the Leiutenants that later would become known as the “Preble Boys“.  

I made my name.  My father would have been proud.  I sailed home in December of 1804 and reached Washington on 4 March 1805.  Congress ordered a gold medal struck in my honor for my brave and meritorious service in the War on Tripoli.  President Jefferson offered me the post of Head of the Navy.  I was too sick and too frail to accept. I returned home to Falmouth and to my dear wife Mary.   

25 August 1807...  Holding the hand of  Mary and peering into her beautiful eyes, I fell into my final rest. 

    Image Credits:Dept. of the Navy, Navy Historical Center, Washington, D.C.Maine Historical Society, Portland Maine (formerly Falmouth Maine)Mariner’s Museum, Newport News, VirginiaUSS Constitution Museum, Boston, Massachusetts Further reading:Christopher McKee author  Edward Preble  Special thanks to  Dr. David P. Stern for proofing and correcting my description of finding latitude with a back staff.