e's
squadron, had been left in the Mediterranean; and as the "Boston,"
twenty-eight, had been ordered to cruise in those waters after
carrying United States Minister Livingstone to France, the power of
the Western Republic was well supported before the coast-line of
Barbary.

The "Enterprise" and the "Constellation" were the first of the
squadron to reach the Mediterranean, and they straightway proceeded to
Tripoli to begin the blockade of that port. One day, while the
"Constellation" was lying at anchor some miles from the town, the
lookout reported that a number of small craft were stealing along,
close in shore, and evidently trying to sneak into the harbor.
Immediately the anchor was raised, and the frigate set out in pursuit.
The strangers proved to be a number of Tripolitan gunboats, and for a
time it seemed as though they would be cut off by the swift-sailing
frigate. As they came within range, the "Constellation" opened a rapid
and well-directed fire, which soon drove the gunboats to protected
coves and inlets in the shore. The Americans then lowered their boats
with the intention of engaging the enemy alongshore, but at this
moment a large body of cavalry came galloping out from town to the
rescue. The Yankees, therefore, returned to their ship, and, after
firing a few broadsides at the cavalry, sailed away.

Thereafter, for nearly a year, the record of the American squadron in
the Mediterranean was uneventful. Commodore Morris showed little
disposition to push matters to an issue, but confined his operations
to sailing from port to port, and instituting brief and imperfect
blockades.

In April, 1803, the squadron narrowly escaped being seriously weakened
by the loss of the "New York." It was when this vessel was off Malta,
on her way to Tripoli in company with the "John Adams" and the
"Enterprise." The drums had just beat to grog; and the sailors, tin
cup in hand, were standing in a line on the main deck waiting their
turns at the grog-tub. Suddenly a loud explosion was heard, and the
lower part of the ship was filled with smoke.

"The magazine is on fire," was the appalling cry; and for a moment
confusion reigned everywhere. All knew that the explosion must have
been near the magazine. There was no one to command, for at the grog
hour the sailors are left to their own occupations. So the confusion
spread, and there seemed to be grave danger of a panic, when Capt.
Chauncey came on deck. A drummer passed