CHAPTER 16

Endgame

Our captive countrymen have been restored to the bosom of their country, peace has been made on honorable terms. . . . We have got all we wanted.

—National Intelligencer, October 25, 1805

With Eaton’s resounding victory in Derne, a military victory in Tripoli seemed within reach. But Tobias Lear had other plans. He wanted a diplomatic deal, and a deal is what he made.

Lear had opposed launching the assault on Derne from the first, and he fully expected the mission to fail. In his mind, Eaton was a failed consul, a man playing at being soldier, even a “madman.”¹ His presence in the region undercut Lear’s diplomatic authority, and Lear feared that a military victory would ruin his chances for brokering a diplomatic peace.

Now Lear received news of Eaton’s success. Lear’s prediction had been wrong, but he was determined not to let the news go to waste. With a little quick thinking, Eaton’s victory could be leveraged, not for an absolute victory, but for a brokered peace.

A few weeks before the attack on Derne, Bashaw Yusuf had showed signs of wanting to make peace—but only on his terms. In return for $200,000, he promised to release Captain Bainbridge and the men of the USS Philadelphia. Though desperate for a deal, Lear recognized the offer for the extortion it was and rejected it.

Then the news of the capture of Derne arrived—and Lear saw his great chance. He felt certain that the news of Hamet’s victory would strike fear into Bashaw Yusuf—and he was right.

Although Lear did not know it, when the Tripolitan leader heard of the fall of Derne on May 21, he was terrified. “The Bashaw was so much agitated at the news of the approach of his brother, that he . . . declared, that if it was in his power now to make peace and give up the American prisoners, he would gladly do it, without the consideration of money. . . ,” one Philadelphia captive reported. “He heartily repented for not accepting the terms of peace last offered.”² Had Lear acted with strength, he might have been granted all of his demands without having to pay.

Instead, Lear underestimated the effect of Eaton’s victory on the Barbary powers. Aboard the USS Constitution, Lear took what he thought was a hard position: he offered $60,000 in payment for the freedom of the Philadelphia’s captives and refused to go ashore until the bashaw agreed to his terms.

The relieved bashaw saw a chance to save his throne. He accepted the deal, and by June 3, the terms were agreed upon. Two days later, Colonel Lear went into the city and was welcomed into the palace. Peace was declared and the prisoners freed—but the achievement was tainted. Lear had paid for the release of American prisoners, and even worse, he had betrayed Eaton and Hamet. As part of the deal, Lear had promised that all American forces would evacuate Derne.

Unaware of Lear’s negotiation, General Eaton, Hamet, and their men stood firm as their enemies counterattacked. The governor of Derne had fled, taking with him intelligence about the invading forces, and he was using the information as he struck back at the Americans. As the attacks continued, Eaton feared that either his supplies or the nerves of his men would give out. He noted in his journal that the apprehensive Hamet tended to become “deeply agitated.”³ The brave liberators of Derne held the city securely, but they could not hold out indefinitely without supplies and reinforcements.

Yet Eaton could do little but wait for the American response to his call for support. When the response came, it was not the men, munitions, and other aid he had requested. Instead, he got a letter advising him that the peace process had begun and no further advancement of his army would be necessary or supported.

Eaton was stunned.

Even more stunning was the accompanying order for him to abandon Derne and come home. The flabbergasted Eaton, who had fully expected to carry his fight to Benghazi and even Tripoli, was told to give up the ground purchased with his men’s blood and to renege on his promises to Hamet.

Outraged, Eaton immediately wrote a long letter to Commodore Barron. He argued that a withdrawal would be a dangerous sign of weakness in a region that respected only strength. “Certainly they, and perhaps the world, will place an unjust construction on this retreat: at any rate it is a retreat—and a retreat of Americans!”⁴

Rather than withdraw from Derne as he waited for a reply to his letter to Barron, Eaton remained in place. He refused to accept that he would be forced to return hard-won ground to the pirates. Then, on June 11, another ship sailed into Derne harbor bringing a new message.

This time, it was the USS Constellation, and the dispatches that came ashore included one from Tobias Lear, dated five days earlier. Lear credited “the heroic bravery of our few countrymen at Derne . . . [that] made a deep impression on the Bashaw.” The result had been a formal end to the war, but word of Lear’s treaty was a blow to Eaton from which he would never recover. He was again told to abandon his prize and even his hopes of helping Hamet. This time Eaton saw that with the treaty in place, there was no getting around orders.

Even as the victor at Derne accepted that he had little choice but to leave, Eaton realized that withdrawal would be a delicate matter. If word leaked that the American forces were preparing to depart, enemy forces might be emboldened to attack. That meant the Americans must leave in secrecy.

Behaving as if nothing had changed, Eaton spent the next day inspecting the garrison and issuing orders as usual. Then, at eight o’clock in the evening, he posted the Marines in a conspicuous place, hoping they would serve as a decoy. Over the next several hours, the rest of the small American force was ferried to the Constellation as unobtrusively as possible. Eaton then summoned the outraged and brokenhearted Hamet, who reluctantly joined the retreat because he had no choice but to accept that pursuing the battle without American help was impossible. The Marines, the officers, and Eaton went last. There could be no farewells, no ceremony. Just a quiet exit, a retreat that felt shameful.

When Hamet’s Arab allies discovered that the Americans had left, they panicked. Once the bashaw’s men learned the news, they would visit their fury on those left behind. Humiliated and betrayed, the sympathetic Arabs ran for the mountains, abandoning the town. In Tripoli there might be peace, but the citizens of Derne who had embraced Hamet would pay a heavy price for their support.

The resourceful William Eaton had won—against all odds—a stunning victory in Derne. And yet as Eaton sailed away, he saw his chance for greater glory—and for an even greater victory for his country—wash away with the tides that brought word of the treaty. Now he simply wished to go home. Listless and defeated, he wrote to Commodore John Rodgers, “I have no reasons for remaining any longer in this sea.”⁵

A Senate committee would later investigate what had unfolded in Tripoli that June. Eaton’s old friend Senator Timothy Pickering would offer a blistering condemnation of Lear, describing his conduct as “nothing but the basest treachery on the basest principles.”⁶ The committee strongly criticized the treaty as an “inglorious deed.”⁷ Yet the Senate still mustered the required two-thirds majority to ratify the Treaty of Peace and Amity between the United States and Tripoli. Whatever the disagreements about the way in which it had come to pass, the peace, at that moment, became an established fact.