The loss of the Americans was small in numbers but great in value during the bombardment, and was confined chiefly to the gunboats. In the second attack, on the 7th of August, one of the American gunboats blew up, killing her brave commander, Lieutenant Caldwell, and several others. When the smoke cleared away after the awful explosion, it was seen that the forward part of the vessel still floated. On it was the long twenty-six-pounder, which was her chief weapon, and which the gun's crew, directed by Midshipman Spence, had just loaded. With as much coolness as if there had been a whole vessel instead of a half one beneath them, the gun was fired, the eleven men on the wreck gave three cheers, led by the midshipman, and then sprang into the water. All were picked up, and fought during the rest of the action.
There was another attack on the 28th of August, and again on the 3d of September. In this last the Constitution bore the brunt of the Tripolitan fire, and did fearful execution with her heavy guns. And on the 4th of September occurred the terrible tragedy of the blowing up of the ketch Intrepid.[11]
The beginning of the autumn marked the end of the season for active operations, and the American squadron withdrew, with a promise to return the next season and do yet more damage,—a calamity which the Bashaw avoided by promptly giving up the American prisoners the next spring, when the Americans, true to their word, returned in greater force. A relief squadron which had been sent out from the United States arrived just at the close of the campaign before Tripoli. It brought out Decatur's commission as a post-captain, as well as lesser promotions for the other young commanding officers. Commodore Preble, on being relieved by Commodore Barron, turned over the Constitution to Decatur, who thus, at twenty-five, commanded what was probably the finest frigate in the world. His rank, however, as the youngest post-captain in the navy did not entitle him to keep her very long, and he was transferred to the Congress, a smart thirty-eight-gun frigate. She was in the squadron of Commodore Rodgers, which, after the humbling of Tripoli, was engaged in bringing the Bey of Tunis to terms. Commodore Rodgers sent Decatur, who was well known to the heads of Barbary powers, to negotiate a treaty with Tunis. The Bey at first refused to receive him. Decatur returned to his ship, which was cleared for action, and sent a message saying that the Bey must decide at once between war and peace. The Bey succumbed immediately, and not only begged for peace, but asked that the Congress should convey a Tunisian envoy to the United States. This was rather more than Decatur had bargained for, particularly as he had to give up a part of his quarters to the Tunisian envoy and his suite. But having succeeded rather better than he expected, Decatur took the party on board and returned to the United States, reaching home in 1805.
He was received with praise, admiration, and the highest personal and official favor. He was given good commands, and a few years after he had gone out to the Mediterranean to command a little twelve-gun schooner, he again went out in command of a splendid squadron, his broad pennant flying on the mighty Constitution. He was sent to demand reparation from the Dey of Algiers for certain injuries to American citizens. The American consul went in person to see the Dey, who sat in state, looking through the open window at the formidable force with which Decatur was prepared to enforce his demands. The consul began by saying, significantly, that the squadron was commanded by Commodore Decatur. The Dey, gravely combing his beard with a diamond comb, said: "I know this Decatur. He is the man who burnt the frigate at Tripoli. Hum! Why do the Americans send wild young men to treat with old powers?" Nevertheless, he very promptly gave all the satisfaction demanded by the "wild young man."
On the outbreak of hostilities with Great Britain in 1811-12, Decatur got the command of the United States,—"Old Wagoner," the stanch and weatherly frigate in which he had made his first cruise with his beloved Somers. In her he made the second capture of a frigate in that war, Hull having preceded him in the capture of the Guerrière by the Constitution.
Off Madeira, on the 25th of October, the United States sighted the Macedonian,[12] a magnificent thirty-eight-gun frigate, commanded by Captain Carden. Decatur and Carden were personal friends, and before the war broke out had often discussed the relative fighting powers of their ships. Decatur's black servant had listened to these talks as he stood behind his master's chair. Captain Carden frequently said, "No, my dear Decatur. Your men are brave, but not experienced; and when they meet a British ship of equal force, with the best intentions to do their duty, they will not know how to fight." Cuffee remembered this, and as soon as it was known on "Old Wagoner" that the approaching frigate was the Macedonian, he very prudently retired to the lower hold, and hid behind a hogshead.
The action began with the greatest spirit on both sides, the ships keeping up a furious cannonade at close quarters, with a heavy sea on and a good breeze blowing. The Americans showed great superiority in gunnery, and although the British fought with a gallantry worthy of British tars, and their officers nobly encouraged them by word and example, in seventeen minutes from the time the first broadside struck the Macedonian all was over, and her colors were hauled down. She had suffered terribly, more than a third of her men being killed and wounded. She lost so many men at the guns that the marines were called upon to work the batteries. On the American ship only twelve men were killed and wounded, and the marines during the whole battle were drawn up in the waist of the ship, with nothing to do. This, however, was much more trying than fighting, as they had to stand as if they were on parade, while shot and shell screamed a few inches above their heads. The men, however, showed the utmost steadiness, and acted as well as looked as if they were merely at Sunday morning quarters. When the Macedonian struck, it was plain from the way she was cut up that she had made a good and gallant defence. As Captain Carden came over the side, he offered his sword to Decatur, who refused to take it, saying,—
"I cannot take the sword of a man who has so bravely defended his ship."
The solemn silence of the occasion was broken by Cuffee, who, the danger being over, had crawled up out of the hold, and appeared upon the quarterdeck at that moment, just in time to bawl out,—