all are safe aboard the Intrepid. The order is given to cast off.
The ketch still clings to the blazing frigate, from whose portholes
the flames are shooting out. The gunpowder left on the deck is
covered only with canvas. Life is in peril. They find that the stern
rope has not been cast off. Up rush Decatur and his {167} officers,
and cut the hawser with their swords. The boat swings clear, and the
men row for their lives.

The fierce flames of the burning ship bring the Intrepid into plain
view. She is a target for every gun. Bang! bang! thunder a hundred
cannon.

"Stop rowing, boys, and give 'em three cheers," shouts Decatur.

Everybody is on his feet in an instant, and joins in the hurrahs.

Solid shot, grape, and shells whistle and scream in the air above the
little ketch, and throw up showers of spray as they strike the water.
Only one shot hits, and that whizzes through the mainsail. The men
bend to their oars and pull for dear life. They are soon well out of
{168} range, and, in a short time, safe under the guns of the Siren.

What wild hurrahs were heard when Decatur, clad in a sailor's
pea-jacket, and begrimed with powder, sprang on board and shouted,
"Didn't she make a glorious bonfire, and we didn't lose a man!"

In telling the story afterwards, the men said it was a superb sight.
The flames burst out and ran rapidly up the masts and the rigging,
and lighted up the sea and the sky with a lurid glare. The guns soon
became heated and began to go off. They fired their hot shot into the
shipping, and even into the town. Then, as if giving a last salute,
the Philadelphia parted her cables, drifted ashore, and blew up.

[Illustration: The Burning of the Philadelphia]

As a popular saying goes, "Nothing succeeds like success." So it was
with Decatur's deed. His cool head and the fine discipline of his men
won success. The famous Lord Nelson, the greatest naval commander of
his time, said it was "the most bold and daring act of the age."

Decatur was well rewarded. At twenty-five he was made a captain, and
given the command of "Old Ironsides," probably the finest frigate at
that time in the world.

{169}

CHAPTER XII
"OLD IRONSIDES"

"Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!
Long has it waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
That banner in the sky."

In 1833, when the old war ship Constitution, unfit for service, lay
in the navy yard in Charlestown, the Secretary of the Na