blew towards her from the enemy’s guns, the _United States_ kept up her destructive fire. For an instant the smoke cleared away, and there hung the main-yard-arm of the English frigate in two pieces; her main-topmast was gone, her fore-topmast was tottering, and no colors were seen floating above her deck; her bowsprit was swaying to and fro, held only by the jib-forestay, and sailing was impossible. She ceased to gather headway, lurching and yawing to one side and the other helplessly. Strange to say, the _United States_ remained almost unhurt. Decatur ceased his fire as he saw the enemy’s plight, furled his mizzen-topsail (the mizzen-topmast being badly wounded), drew away, tacked, and came under the lee of the English ship. She gave him a feeble broadside, and Decatur luffed again across her bows. As he did so, Carden, perceiving further resistance to be vain, hauled down his colors, which had again been hoisted on a spar at the stump of the mizzen-mast. Decatur, his face flushed with victory, hailed in person: “What ship is that?” “His Majesty’s frigate _Macedonian_, thirty-eight, John S. Carden,” was the response. Immediately a boat was lowered, and an officer was sent on board. In the two hours of the engagement she had suffered terribly. Not less than one hundred round-shot were counted in her hull, many of them between wind and water. She had nothing standing but her main-mast and fore-yard. Her boats were useless, with exception of one small quarter-boat; and out of the officers and crew, three hundred in number, thirty-six were killed and sixty-eight were wounded. The American loss was five killed and six wounded. The _Macedonian_ was but two years old, a fine vessel of her class, rated thirty-eight, and carrying forty-nine guns--eighteen on her gun-deck, and thirty-two-pound carronades above. The _United States_ was heavier and stronger, both in metal and men, it cannot be denied, having a crew of four hundred and seventy-eight. But, even taking into account the disparity in the weight of metal and the number of crew, the action proved conclusively that American-built ships and American seamen were to open the eyes of the world in conflicts on the sea. Now comes the courtesy, the almost stilted politeness, that always seems as if prepared especially for dramatic effect before translation into history. As the brave Carden stepped upon the deck of the _United States_ he proffered his sword to Decatur. “No, sir,” exclaimed the latter, doffing his cocked hat, “I cannot receive the sword of a man who has so bravely defended his ship; but,” he added, smiling graciously, “I will receive your hand.” As an honored guest, Decatur led the vanquished to his cabin, where refreshments, to quote from another account of the affair, “were set out and partaken of in a friendly spirit by the two commanders.”