It was seen that the Tripolitan batteries were manned, and the cruising vessels had lifted their anchors, so that the Americans knew that they would have a warm reception. At the moment that the Constitution wore with her head pointing out of the harbor, the Bashaw of Tripoli was watching the fleet with a glass from one of the windows of the castle, and haughtily remarked:
“They will mark their distance for tacking. These Americanos are a sort of Jews, who have no notion of fighting!” But Captain Bainbridge and his officers and men, who watched the scene with the eager eyes of prisoners hoping for release, knew perfectly well that every manœuvre made by the Americans that day would be only to get closer to the enemy.
By half past one o’clock the gunboats were manned, and separated into two divisions. Somers led the first, with young James Decatur commanding the boat next him, while Stephen Decatur led the second division. Danny Dixon was, as usual, acting as coxswain, and with him was a brawny young sailor, Reuben James, who had captivated Danny by his admiration for Captain Paul Jones. Danny had, in consequence, recommended him highly to Decatur. “For, cap’n,” he said, “a man as thinks as highly o’ Cap’n Paul Jones as Reuben James does, and kin listen oncet in a while to my yarns ’bout the fight between the Bunnum Richard and the S’rapis, is apt to be a mighty good sailor. And if one o’ them murderin’ pirates was to do for me, sir, I’d like to think there’d be a good man to take my place. I’m a-thinkin’, Cap’n Decatur, this ain’t goin’ to be no picnic, but good hard fightin’. ’Course ’twon’t be like fightin’ the Britishers on the S’rapis——”
“I’d rather fight the Britishers ten to one,” answered Decatur, cutting short Danny’s reminiscences, which otherwise would have been interminable. “The British are seamen and gentlemen, while these wretches are corsairs and pirates. But Reuben James may be with you, if you want him.”
“Thanky, sir,” responded Danny; and Reuben was the first man Decatur saw when he stepped aboard the gunboat.
Somers had for his coxswain Moriarity, who, while waiting for his young commander, remarked, with a wink to his messmates who were resting on their oars:
“Begorra, although ould Oireland is a good counthry, Oi’m roight glad, Oi am, that I was born and bred in Ameriky. There’s goin’ to be great doin’s this day, and Misther Somers—or Cap’n, as I should say—is one o’ them young gintlemen as has a grip like a bulldog on a enemy. And Oi promise ivery wan of yez that if yez follows Misther Somers—or Cap’n, I should say—ye’ll git into a warm place, shure; and ye won’t come out of it, nayther, as soon as ye’d like; for Misther Somers—or Cap’n, I should say—for all he be as soft as a May mornin’, is got more fight in him nor any murtherin’ Turk as iver smoked a poipe or tould a lie.”
Which was perfectly true.
As the two divisions of three boats each formed and pulled away, they saw two divisions of Tripolitan gunboats, much larger, stronger, and more fully manned, pull slowly out from behind the line of reefs. The windward division consisted of nine gunboats, and the leeward of five, while a reserve of five others lay just inside her harbor, protected by the reefs.
As Somers took his place in the gunboat he said to the man at the tiller: