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Mariana Blake, on her way home from Jake Preble's in the autumn twilight, heard women's voices sounding clearly at a distance, increasing in volume as they neared. She knew the turn of the road would hide her from them for a minute or two to come, and depending on that security she stepped over the wall and crouched behind the undergrowth at the foot of a wild cherry.
On Commodore Preble's arrival, a few days afterwards, he proposed to him a plan for the purpose, and volunteered his services to execute it.
On the ocean side it was protected by forts and batteries and the harbor was guarded by a long line of reefs. Through the openings in this natural breakwater, the light-draft native craft could pass in and out to harass the blockading fleet. It was Commodore Preble's plan to make a carefully concerted attack upon this stronghold as soon as summer weather conditions permitted.
Such distaste animated the tone of that response that Mariana involuntarily raised herself from her listening posture, and the dishes clinked. "What's that? Didn't you hear suthin'? Why, Jake Preble's a kind of a hind wheel. He goes rollin' along after t'others, never askin' why nor wherefore, and he thinks it's his own free will. He never so much as dreams 'tis the horse that's haulin' him."
It is easy to get used to those coverings; it is impossible to get used to the mosquitoes. For July 10 I find this note: "The Mosquitoes are worse now than ever before; even Jarvis, Preble, and the Indians are wearing face protectors of some kind. The Major has borrowed Preble's closed net, much to the latter's discomfiture, as he himself would be glad to wear it."
Before entering into close action, Decatur went alongside each of the boats and directed them to unship their bowsprits and follow him, as it was his intention to board the enemy's boats. Lieutenant James Decatur commanded one of the boats belonging to Commodore Preble's division, but being farther to the windward than the rest of his division, he joined and took orders from his brother.
The year after Preble's recall, another New-England man, William Eaton, led an army of nine Americans from Egypt to Derne, the easternmost province of Tripoli, a march of five hundred miles over the Desert. He took the capital town by storm, and would have conquered the whole Regency, if he had been supplied with men and money from our fleet.
"I have got him," said Preble, then added feelingly, "but he got me first. Suffering Moses! the little cuss is grinding his teeth in deeper." The muffled screaming of the small demon died away as Preble's strong left hand crushed out his life, but as long as there was a spark of it remaining, those desperate jaws were grinding deeper into his thumb.
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. "For the honor of the flag, sir, the ship must be destroyed.
Decatur had been sent out from the United States, in the Argus, to join Commodore Preble's squadron before Tripoli. He exchanged this vessel with Lieutenant Hull for the Enterprise. After making that exchange, he proceeded to Syracuse, where the squadron was to rendezvous.
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