From a painting by M. Carne Preble’s First Attack on Tripoli
The Constitution (large ship right center foreground) leading the attack on Tripoli, August 3, 1804.

From a painting by C. R. Patterson “Old Ironsides”

ACT I
In the Mediterranean

SCENE I. ENTER THE “CONSTITUTION”

On a September day in 1803 an American frigate bowled along the rocky Spanish coast toward Gibraltar. From her bluff bows curled back a foamy wave. Above the blue waters rose a gracefully proportioned black hull. Around it, halfway up from the water line, ran a broad white stripe. This was broken at regular intervals by the dark squares of the gun ports. Spars tapered aloft. White rectangles of billowing canvas completed a picture of beauty unsurpassed on the Seven Seas. Such was the United States ship Constitution. Joshua Humphreys, naval constructor, had done his work well.

Watchers on the famous Rock might have noted, had the beauty of this strange ship gained their full attention, that from the mizzen truck flew the broad blue pennant of a commodore. His name was then unknown. It is not too well known even now. But as time passes the conviction grows that Edward Preble should be classed in the first rank of our naval commanders. He was soon to prove that he was every inch a commodore. His pennant flew from a splendid ship, but one which had as yet no tradition of victory. Edward Preble was to begin that long series of successful cruises and spectacular sea fights which was to endear “Old Ironsides” to every American.

Countless ships for countless years had passed these far-famed Pillars of Hercules. Some had sailed on errands of peace, but most on the grim business of war. Phoenician traders had sailed out northward to Britain for cargoes of its precious tin. Carthaginian merchants under Hanno had ventured far down the Atlantic coast of Africa. Scipio Africanus with his legions had come this way to complete the conquest of Spain. Moorish galleys had ferried to Europe those fierce Moslem horsemen who overran the Iberian Peninsula and fought for world empire on the battlefields of France. Norse sea kings had sailed on through to Sicily and Constantinople. Stout De Ruyter and his Dutch seamen had followed in their track to make his last campaign in the blue waters of the Mediterranean. And only five years before the greatest sea captain of them all, a certain Horatio Nelson, had hastened by to match his wits with a General Bonaparte and annihilate his fleet at the mouth of the Nile.

The entry of Edward Preble in a Yankee frigate into the great sea which had supported so many war fleets seemed doubtless at that time utterly devoid of historical significance. But now, as we look back over a century and a quarter, it takes on a new importance. It was to bring our young Navy to a new plane of efficiency. It was to demonstrate to Americans in a striking manner the value of an efficient naval service. It was to establish our Navy as a permanent American institution. And, what is more, it signaled to watchful eyes abroad the rise of a new sea power. It indicated, not only to African pirates, but also to astute European statesmen, that this American Republic had become a factor they would have to reckon with in framing their diplomatic policies.

We believe that, as much as any other man of that era, it was bold and forceful Edward Preble who gave the United States that initial impulsion along the path of astounding prosperity, unparalleled commercial power, and world-wide influence.