At length the bombs have taken their position and come to anchor, and the signal for battle is displayed at the mast-head of the "Constitution." Each of the mortars flings out a little curling puff of smoke. An instant later, with a deafening din and uproar, all the guns in the squadron and in the batteries on shore, as if directed by one man, have opened fire with their heavy round shot. The gunboats, led by Decatur and Somers, dash out against the enemy, and soon they are lost to view beneath the smoke of battle.
The cannonade continues. Meantime Somers, though his boat is a dull sailer, by dint of hard work with the sweeps has reached the enemy's rear division, and single-handed as he is drives them in confusion behind the rocks. Decatur, followed by his brother James, by Trippe, and by the younger Bainbridge, attacks the van. The bowsprits have been unshipped so that there will be nothing to impede the boarders, for it is by boarding that Decatur means to gain his prizes. Bainbridge in his advance loses his lateen yard by a shot, and can only support the attacking column from a distance. Trippe dashes up alongside one of the enemy's boats crying out, "Board!" and leaps over the rail, followed by Henley, his midshipman, and nine of his crew. The others are about to jump, when the boats fall apart. It is hot work for the little handful of Americans. The enemy is more than three times their number. But there is no time for thought, and without a second's hesitation the boarders make a rush upon the crew of the galley with pike and cutlass. For a few minutes the struggle is desperate. Trippe singles out the leader, a tall and well-built Turk, as his own antagonist. As he comes up, the Turk makes a swift cut at him with his scimitar; but Trippe parries the blow skilfully with his sword, receiving only a slight wound. Stroke after stroke descends, as the enemy, swinging his curved blade with the rapidity of lightning, cuts savagely at his opponent. But Trippe is a cool and expert fencer, and though he is gashed and cut again and again, he holds his ground until he has passed his weapon through the body of the Turk. His companions, in the fury of their attack, have killed thirteen of the enemy; and though there are still more than twenty left, the rest seeing their leader fall are panic-struck and fall on their faces begging for mercy. Trippe carries off with him eleven honorable scars, and three of his men are wounded; but none have fallen, and the Tripolitan gunboat is a prize.