informed him that they had engaged and captured one of the enemy; but
that her commander, after surrendering, had treacherously shot
Lieutenant James Decatur, and pushed off with the boat, and was then
making for the harbor.

The feelings of the gallant Decatur, on receiving this intelligence, may
be more easily imagined than described. Every consideration of prudence
and safety was lost in his eagerness to punish so dastardly an act, and
to revenge the death of a brother so basely murdered. He pushed within
the enemy's line with his single boat, and having succeeded in getting
alongside of the retreating foe, boarded her at the head of eleven men,
who were all the Americans he had left. The fate of this contest was
extremely doubtful for about twenty minutes. All the Americans, except
four, were now severely wounded. Decatur singled out the commander as
the peculiar object of his vengeance. The Turk was armed with an
espontoon, Decatur with a cutlass; in attempting to cut off the head of
the weapon, his sword struck on the iron, and broke off close to the
hilt. The Turk, at this moment, made a push, which slightly wounded him
in the right arm and breast. He immediately seized the spear, and closed
with him. A fierce struggle ensued, and both fell, Decatur uppermost. By
this time the Turk had drawn a dagger from his belt, and was about to
plunge it into the body of his foe, when Decatur caught his arm, and
shot him with a pistol, which he drew from his pocket. During the time
they were struggling on the deck, the crews rushed to aid their
commanders, and a most sanguinary scene took place, insomuch that when
Decatur had despatched his adversary, it was with the utmost difficulty
he could extricate himself from the killed and wounded that had fallen
around him.

It is with no common feeling of admiration that we record an instance of