Introduction

The United States Navy was barely an experiment in the early 1800s.  The country had no institutional structure for cultivating naval leadership, no permanent fleet, and no great maritime legacy.  Often self-taught or informally trained, naval officers improvised doctrine instead of codifying it; ships were built erratically and run under limited funds. Yet within a generation, American vessels were patrolling distant shores, projecting power in the Mediterranean, and defeating seasoned British frigates in direct combat. This transformation did not occur in isolation, it emerged from a crucible of small wars, hard leadership, and contested waters. 

At the center of this formative era stood a small group of officers who had cut their teeth during the Barbary Wars (1801–1815). Among them, Commodore Edward Preble (1761–1807) stands apart, not simply for his tactical victories, but for the disciplined, professional culture he imposed under combat conditions. His Mediterranean campaign marked one of the first instances in which the Navy operated abroad as a coherent, offensive-minded force. Under Preble, naval leadership began to shift from ad hoc command to something more structured, more demanding, and more enduring. His squadron operated as both a fighting unit and a leadership academy, forming the nucleus of what would become a lasting naval ethos.

This paper examines how Preble’s command in the Mediterranean, though short-lived, reshaped the American naval officer corps. Previous scholarship has acknowledged Preble’s aggressive posture and decisive leadership during the Tripolitan conflict, but less attention has been paid to how he institutionalized those values through technical rigor, mentorship, and a deep belief in disciplined autonomy. His legacy is not only visible in the victories of the War of 1812, but in the expectations that came to define naval professionalism well into the antebellum era. Through a blend of aggression, disciplined mentorship, and technical precision, Edward Preble’s leadership during the Barbary Wars embedded a warrior ethos into American naval culture that influenced doctrine, officer development, and combat thinking across the 1800s.

Photo Right: Captain Edward Preble, USN (1761-1807). Oil on canvas, 24" by 36", by an unknown 19th Century artist. Painting in the U.S. Naval Academy Museum Collection. Transferred from the U.S. Naval Lyceum, 1869. Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. Date: 1807.

     Strategic and Political Context (1785–1803)

Maritime Insecurity After the Revolution (1785–1794)

Following the American Revolution (1775–1783), the United States found itself in a hostile world without the protective umbrella of the British Royal Navy. Independence brought exposure. No longer flying the Union Jack, American merchant ships quickly became easy prey in international waters, especially in the Mediterranean, where the Barbary corsairs of North Africa had long practiced piracy and extortion as state policy. These semi-autonomous naval forces operating out of Tripoli, Tunis, Algiers and Morocco, deemed unprotected American ships fair game, often capturing crews and ransoming them. Lacking a navy of its own, the U.S. government had little leverage to respond.[1]

The issue was not limited to the Mediterranean. The Atlantic shipping lanes swarmed with privateers, European powers, above all Britain and France, showing little deference to neutral American vessels. But in North Africa, the threat was systemic. The Barbary States acted with the approval of their governments, with letters of marque, collecting tribute, state-sponsored piracy. Captured Americans were often led through the streets of Algiers or Tripoli before being sold into slavery. By 1786, Thomas Jefferson (1743–1826) and John Adams (1735–1826), then serving in Europe as diplomats, had both written despondently about how it was impossible to negotiate with these regimes without enormous outlays of bribes or military force.[2]

Beginning in 1785, the record indicates Barbary raiders captured dozens of American ships, kidnapping over one hundred sailors by the early 1790s. Arguments raged in Congress over what to do, but without a standing force of its own, and without broad political support (particularly among Jeffersonian Republicans) for peacetime militarization, there was no clear route.[3] The United States had opted instead to depend on diplomacy and tribute payments to secure its commercial interests, in effect buying time with gold rather than powder and shot. That policy of appeasement may have bought some near-term relief, yet it deepened the perception abroad that the young republic was too weak to defend its own.[4]

The U.S. made a brief effort to re-supply its maritime capacity through ad hoc means; for example, by hiring foreign vessels or authorizing privateers in elevated-risk periods. But those efforts were sporadic and lacked the professional backbone of a genuine navy. American foreign policy in the 1780s and early 1790s cast the nation in a defensive crouch, molded by fear of rousing European powers or embroiling the country in overseas wars. Into this vacuum, the Barbary States flourished.[5]

The Naval Act of 1794

America’s turning point with respect to maritime security arrived in 1794, as Congress, encountering growing threats not merely from the Barbary corsairs but also from European naval powers, enacted legislation to create a permanent naval force. The 1794 Naval Act authorized construction of six heavy frigates: United States, Constellation, Constitution, Chesapeake, Congress, and President.[6] Such vessels would be the backbone of America’s earliest naval might, each one fast, powerful and tough; traits allowing them to punch above their weight against European warships.

The road to passage was bumpy, to say the least. Many in Congress, especially Jeffersonian Republicans like the Virginia senator William Branch Giles (1762–1830) and the secretary of the treasury Albert Gallatin (1761–1849), opposed what they viewed as a perilous move toward an armed executive. Critics said navies were instruments of empire, and they were afraid of the precedent of a permanent fighting force that could entangle the country in the rivalries of Europe. As Representative Giles warned, “A navy, once established, will not easily be reduced. It will need officers, ships, and ports… and these will grow upon the hands of government.”[7] Others questioned the affordability of such a program during a time of fragile federal revenues.

But supporters of the act, led by Secretary of War Henry Knox (1750–1806), President George Washington (1732–1799), and Connecticut Representative Benjamin Goodhue (1748–1814), saw the measure as essential to American sovereignty. Knox, in a widely circulated letter to Congress, warned that without “a maritime force, however limited, the United States will remain at the mercy of petty states who command the seas.”[8] President Washington, who had remained largely above party disputes, added his voice by declaring that “to be prepared for war is one of the most effectual means of preserving peace.”[9] These arguments resonated particularly with New England shipping interests, who bore the brunt of losses from Barbary and European seizures.

The act passed by a narrow but needed margin, a testament to a growing consensus that American independence was meaningless if it could not protect its commercial lifelines. That political compromise came with a sunset clause: construction was to stop if Algiers would make peace. That clause was invoked for a brief period in 1796, when a treaty with Algiers temporarily calmed the waters. But by 1797, resurgent piracy and increasing instability in the Mediterranean made it evident that temporary appeasement would not suffice for national security.[10]

The ships themselves were entrusted to naval architect Joshua Humphreys (1751–1838), who envisioned a new class of frigate that could outrun anything it could not outgun and outgun anything it could not outrun. His design combined long-range endurance, heavy armament, and structural durability in a way that rivaled or exceeded many contemporary European vessels. These frigates were not built to challenge full fleets but to execute commerce protection, interdiction, and asymmetric naval strategy, missions that would define American naval doctrine for decades to come.[11]

By the early 1800s, these ships, particularly the Constitution and Philadelphia, would be deployed to confront Tripoli. More importantly, the Naval Act marked the first concrete step in building an institutional naval culture, a structure that Edward Preble would soon shape through his leadership in the Barbary Wars.

Photo Left: Printed version of the Naval Armament Act of 1794 – page 1 & page 2 – NARA, center for legislative archives, records of the senate, record group 46.

The Outbreak of War and the Strategic Turn Under Jefferson (1801)

By the dawn of the 19th century, American frustration with Barbary piracy was boiling over. Followed by years of expensive tribute payments and intermittent negotiations, the seizure of American merchant vessels continued. The Pasha of Tripoli, Yusuf Qaramanli (r. 1795–1832), provoked tensions in May 1801 by seeking a steep increase in tribute from the United States. President Thomas Jefferson’s refusal to pay prompted Qaramanli to symbolically chop down the flagpole at the U.S. consulate in Tripoli, in diplomatic terms, a declaration of war.[12]

The incident triggered the First Barbary War (1801–1805), the first prolonged overseas war in American history. While Congress waited to issue a formal declaration of war, Jefferson acted decisively and sent a naval squadron to the Mediterranean, which included the President, Philadelphia, Essex, and Enterprise.[13] Though this response may have appeared at odds with Jefferson’s earlier doubts about standing militaries, it marked a change in his mindset. Dynasties of tribute had not led to peace and Jefferson believed that naval strength would instead be necessary to protect commerce and American sovereignty.

Jefferson’s use of naval forces was not an isolated response; it was an early step toward a more significant doctrinal shift. The new approach he was developing has been termed by historians a forward engagement policy, a strategy that stressed countering likely threats overseas with muscular theaters of power before they reached American soil.[14] Instead of reacting to provocations, the U.S. would operate in contested waters, project power in defense of national interests, and have a visible maritime presence. It was a departure from the cautious diplomacy of the 1790s and established the way the republic would deploy its burgeoning navy.

Politically, Jefferson heard pressure from shipping interests, particularly in New England, to do more than negotiate. Theoretically, he used limited, precision strike instead of mass mobilization to protect republican virtue and avoid imperial overreach. This gave him the requisite justification for military action while leaving the principles of constrained government in place. Jefferson’s policy was inspired by the Enlightenment ideals of national honor but also a recognition that tribute payments had become unsustainable, as Frank Lambert writes.[15]

Even so, the initial implementation of this strategy was halting. Commodore Richard Dale (1756–1826) was sent in 1801 with ambiguous legal authority and puny firepower. His blockade of Tripoli resulted in little, and the next two years had a succession of temporary commanders move in and out of the region with little to show for it. By 1803, however, Jefferson and his Secretary of the Navy Robert Smith (1757–1842) realized the necessity of more aggressive, centralized command. That summer, they selected Edward Preble to command the Mediterranean Squadron.[16]

Edward Preble’s Appointment and the Emergence of a New Naval Ethos (1803)

The appointment of Edward Preble to command the Mediterranean Squadron in 1803 marked a turning point in the American approach to the Barbary conflict. Following two years of indecisive leadership and the grounding and capture of the USS Philadelphia near Tripoli in October of that year, Preble was selected by Jefferson and Secretary Smith to bring discipline, order, and offensive focus to a faltering campaign.[17]

Preble, a veteran of the Quasi-War (1798–1800) with France, brought a hard-edged reputation for technical mastery and strict command. Though lacking political patronage, he was known in naval circles for his rigorous training standards, sharp temper, and relentless demand for performance. His orders were clear: enforce the blockade of Tripoli, protect American shipping, and bring the Pasha to terms, but the operational execution was left largely to his discretion.[18]

When he took command of the USS Constitution, Preble wasted no time in reshaping the squadron. He issued thorough standing orders to his captains, tightened discipline among the crews, and cultivated a culture centered on professionalism and initiative. Preble was more than just a battlefield tactician; he was a mentor, shaping a core group of junior officers who would later carry his methods into future conflicts. Unlike earlier commanders who leaned on caution or routine patrols, Preble pushed for bold action, strategic pressure, and strong internal unity as the pillars of naval effectiveness.[19]

Preble’s leadership in the Mediterranean represented more than a change in personality, it marked the operational embodiment of Jefferson’s emerging doctrine. Under his command, American naval forces transitioned from symbolic deterrents to aggressive instruments of national power.

Aggressive Tactics

Right from the beginning of his command in 1803, Edward Preble showed a willingness to press that greatly surpassed the cautious stance of his predecessors. Preble did not believe in passive patrols or symbolic shows of force; he wanted to crack Tripoli’s resistance through sustained bombardment, psychological pressure and audacious operational risk. His 1804 campaign, which included five distinct bombardments of the port of Tripoli between July and September, created a playbook for how American naval commanders could project power even with relatively few resources.[20]

Preble’s aggressive posture was not reckless bravado. It was informed by an emerging conviction that speed, initiative and unceasing contact with the enemy would achieve not only results but shape the very fighting spirit of the Navy. In a letter, dated September 18, 1804, Preble described planning, conduct, and purpose of these bombardments, stressing close coordination, judicious use of firepower, and his insistence on keeping junior officers in command of forces.[21] But it was not just tactical, it was instructional. By pushing his captains out front and exposing them to being right under the gun of real combat decisions, Preble cultivated the independent thinking and courage that would define his legacy.

His tactics were also psychological in nature. He resorted to night attacks, gunboat assaults and visible blockades, not merely to do damage but also to demoralize the defenders of Tripoli and undermine the Pasha’s authority in the eyes of his own people. A clear example of this strategy can be seen in the July 1804 log entries for Preble’s USS Constitution, which chronicle the squadron’s operational tempo; coordinated use of boats, rotation of fire missions and strict rules of engagement.[22] These entries reflect a leader who emphasized precise planning, discipline under fire, and maximum visibility of force.

This did not go unnoticed by international observers. In British consular reports from 1804, Preble’s were called unrelenting and methodical, “and far exceeding any such American exertion on the part of this nation before.”[23] By then, he had pushed the Navy from timid defense to aggressive confrontation, with both enemy and ally having to take the United States seriously as a power capable of waging sustained warfare at sea.

So even as Preble acted without full support or reinforcements from Washington, he moved ahead. The destruction of Tripolitan gunboats, his personal supervision of incursions into the harbor and close coordination with officers like Stephen Decatur (1779–1820) all illustrated the operational tempo that he felt was key to American victory. But these were not only reactive tactics; they were a running doctrine in action, one based on initiative, aggression, and calculated resolve.

Blockade Strategy

If Preble’s bombardments were the hammer, his blockade strategy was the anvil. Beginning in late 1803 and continuing through the height of the 1804 campaign, Commodore Preble implemented a tight, sustained blockade of Tripoli harbor that served not only to restrict enemy movement but to exert long-term psychological and logistical pressure on the Pasha’s regime. Unlike the looser patrols of earlier commanders, Preble’s blockade was aggressive, tactically flexible, and deeply integrated with his larger goal of reshaping naval conduct into a disciplined, purposeful profession.[24]

Preble’s blockade featured continuous patrol rotations, close reconnaissance, night positioning, and the selective capture and repurposing of Tripolitan gunboats. In the first serious raid on the harbor, on August 3, 1804, American gunboats led by junior officers, including Stephen Decatur Jr., his brother Lieutenant James Decatur (1783–1804), John Trippe (1785–1810), and James R. Caldwell (d. 1804), led boarding parties that snatched Tripoli Gunboats No. 2 and No. 3 in close-quarters battles.[25] The action was costly: James Decatur was killed while attempting to seize a vessel, prompting his brother Stephen to launch a retaliatory boarding action that succeeded in capturing the gunboat.[26] These captured craft were swiftly re-crewed and placed under American command, where they were used in subsequent harbor attacks throughout the remainder of the summer.

Preble used these vessels not simply to increase firepower but to test and train his officers under combat conditions. In the days following the assault, he assigned command of these ex-Tripolitan boats to junior officers such as Trippe, Caldwell, and Lieutenant Joseph Bainbridge (1780–1824), giving them operational independence within the larger tactical framework.[27] This practice turned blockade duty into a live proving ground, where emerging leaders learned initiative, coordination, and composure under fire. Preble’s standing orders for gunboat operations emphasized coordination, timing, and aggressive maneuvering, and his USS Constitution log entries reflect ongoing preparations and training for these tasks.[28]

The blockade was itself disciplined and adaptive. The USS Constitution held a static station beyond the harbor mouth, and smaller craft ranged inward, and shuttled from inlets along the coast. A letter in September 1804 from Preble to then Secretary of the Navy Robert Smith described his rotation system, command protocols and measures to keep his vessels ready to campaign, all designed to keep the pressure on Tripoli without exhausting the squadron.

Photo Left: English: Photo #: NH 65536-KN (color) Bombardment of Tripoli, 3 August 1804, Oil by Michael Felice Corne,[sic] depicting Commodore Edward Preble's squadron engaging the Tripolitan gunboats and fortifications during the afternoon of 3 August 1804.U.S. Navy vessels shown in the foreground are, from left to right: schooner Enterprise, schooner Nautilus, brig Argus, brig Siren (or Syren), schooner Vixen, mortar boat Dent, gunboat Somers, frigate Constitution (Preble's flagship), mortar boat Robinson, and gunboat Blake. Attacking the enemy flotilla in the center background are Lieutenant Stephen Decatur's three gunboats and a gunboat commanded by Lieutenant James Decatur, who was killed in this action. Courtesy of the U.S. Naval Academy Museum, Annapolis, Maryland. U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command Photograph.

“The fatigue and exposure of the Officers and crews of the small Vessels under my command, having been very great, I have directed two of the gunboats to proceed to Messina to be cleaned and repaired... I have detached the John Adams to Syracuse with the invalids.”
—Edward Preble to Secretary of the Navy Robert Smith, September 18, 1804[29]

His focus on interchangeable command structure and cross-training reflected a broader belief that readiness was not about numbers but about practiced flexibility.

These operations earned recognition at home and abroad. In March 1805, Congress passed a formal resolution thanking Preble and his officers, issuing ceremonial swords and medals in recognition of their leadership and endurance, including their efforts to “maintain a constant blockade under adverse conditions.”[30] British officials in Malta expressed admiration for the American presence and showed consistent willingness to coordinate logistics and aid, with Governor Sir Alexander John Ball (1757–1809) writing that he would “at all times feel [satisfaction] in executing [Preble’s] wishes,” signaling confidence in the squadron’s legitimacy and conduct.[31]

The blockade Preble executed not only materially aided the war effort, it patterned what an independent American naval doctrine might resemble: offensive, flexible and officer corps not educated in theory, but forged in command. Converting enemy vessels into instructional devices and sustaining operational discipline through unremitting pressure, Preble drove the core naval values of initiative, endurance, and responsibility into the essence of leadership at sea.

Technical Mastery and Officer Training

Apart from his audacity of tactics and pressure of strategy, Edward Preble stood out as a naval educator in the fullest sense. Preble thought that more is needed for a victory at sea than courage, it must be competence. His leadership of the Mediterranean Squadron served as a crucible for officer professionalism, making navigation, gunnery, seamanship and command independence indispensable facets of the American naval identity.

Preble’s influence began with the USS Constitution, his flagship, where he promulgated detailed standing orders that covered not only sail handling and cannon drills, but also watch rotations and inter-ship signaling. These orders, found in the Preble Papers, reveal a commander looking for proficiency in routine before the confusion of the battlefield.[32] The foundations of operational readiness were built on his emphasis surrounding repetition, consistency, and officer accountability. Officers who worked under him remembered not just his discipline but his demand that they understand the why of every order, a practice that trained them to think beyond the immediate moment and prepare for independent command.

One of the most striking examples of this culture of training can be found in the lean, mean log entries aboard Preble’s USS Constitution, where each day included repetitive drills under sail and at anchor ranging from longboat deployment to close-range gunnery simulations.[33] In these records, Preble assayed performance directly and made judgments on everything from helm response to shot timing. His approach reflected British practices but tailored to a leaner, faster and more improvisational American fleet.

Preble also served as a tutor of naval judgment, especially in virtue of his mentorship of junior officers. His own correspondence reveals a consistent investment in developing officers who might act decisively without needing explicit orders. In his September 1804 letter to Robert Smith, Secretary of the Navy, Preble presented his confidence in delegating responsibilities to men such as Stephen Decatur Jr., Charles Stewart (1778–1869), and James Lawrence (1781–1813), most of whom would go on to distinguish themselves during the War of 1812.[34] These were not just talented men, they were products of a deliberate pedagogical effort.

The same ethos is evident in Preble’s letters to Secretary of State James Madison (1751–1836), in which he reports on diplomatic overtures to Morocco and the need for composure and judgment under stress.[35] Preble coached his officers not just in tactics but in diplomacy, stressing that the Navy’s role was not just to fight, but to present the republic with dignity and determination.

The result was noticed outside the country as well. In British consular reports submitted during the blockade of Tripoli, American officers were noted for their precise maneuvering and gunnery, skills that had been developed under Preble’s disciplined imperatives.[36] The Navy, a service once derided as a provincial force, was fast becoming a parable of nimble, do-it-yourself professionalism.

Even Preble’s replacement, while politically motivated, did not diminish his legacy. In a May 22, 1804, letter to Preble, Secretary Smith praised the commodore’s system of officer training, expressing confidence that the Navy would continue to benefit from his methods even after his departure.[37] That confidence proved well placed. The officers Preble mentored carried his values into the future, and their reputations, as tacticians, seamen, and leaders, were inseparable from the formative education they received while serving under his command.

Preble understood that ships would rot, and cannon would go silent, but leadership, once instilled, endured. In transforming his vessels into floating academies of war, he did more than win a campaign. He set the benchmarks against which a generation of naval officers would hold themselves.

Strict Discipline

Edward Preble did not merely lead by example or train through repetition, he enforced a culture of discipline that bordered on asceticism. For Preble, discipline was not a tool; it was the core of naval identity. On board his flagship, the USS Constitution, and throughout the Mediterranean Squadron, he demanded absolute adherence to orders, rigorous maintenance of readiness, and professional conduct ashore and afloat. The effect, initially resented, became one of the most defining elements of his legacy.

This emphasis on strict order clashed at first with his junior officers. Many of them, young, Southern, and full of martial zeal, viewed Preble as a cold and joyless figure. He was older than most by nearly two decades and physically suffering from chronic stomach illness, later believed to be cancer. While they expected a war of dashing heroics, Preble delivered daily gun drills, precise maneuvering, and relentless inspections, a regime so severe that it earned him private mockery from his wardroom in the early weeks of deployment.[38]

But that sentiment began to shift. The Maidstone Incident (1804), off Cadiz, became a turning point. Mistaking a larger British warship for a threat, Preble refused to back down when challenged. He announced, “Blow your matches, boys,” fully prepared to fire on what turned out to be an 84-gun British ship, while commanding only the 44-gun Constitution. The moment revealed to his crew that beneath the rigid discipline was a man of volcanic courage, and it reframed their perception of him overnight.[39]

Preble’s standards were enforced through action. He did not hesitate to reprimand, reassign, or remove officers who failed to meet his expectations. In April 1804, Lieutenant W. M. Livingston tendered his resignation. Preble accepted it with unmistakable finality, writing, “Your conduct has been for a long time very incorrect,” and warning him he was “no longer at liberty to wear the uniform” of the Navy.[40] The event was formal and cold, but its effect rippled: the squadron knew that Preble’s discipline was more than bluster. It had teeth.

These expectations extended beyond tactics. In his standing orders aboard the Constitution, Preble demanded that officers lead their watches in person, supervise drills, and report even minor infractions. Sailors were expected to maintain their equipment, behave with decorum in port, and prepare constantly for action.[41] The focus was not on punishment, but on creating an environment where discipline was inseparable from survival. Even the capture and repurposing of enemy vessels was governed by formalized control, gunboat crews were drilled to operate under American command protocols immediately, and junior officers were evaluated not just on results, but on their adherence to procedure.

Officers who endured this structure, like Stephen Decatur, Charles Stewart, Isaac Hull (1773–1843), and James Lawrence, would later emulate it. The culture was not just about shared action; it was about shared formation. Decatur’s famed 1804 raid and Hull’s discipline during the Guerriere engagement in 1812 were not anomalies, they were expressions of Preble’s system, scaled up to independent command.

Congress and the Navy Department understood how critical that system was. According to correspondence from Secretary of the Navy Robert Smith, Preble was praised for bringing a degree of order and efficiency to the squadron never before achieved under previous commands, despite limited resources and a persistent threat.[42] British officers stationed at Gibraltar and Malta remarked on the squadron’s striking military appearance and the crispness of its evolutions, praise echoed even by Horatio Nelson (1758–1805).

“The American squadron, under Commodore Preble, is the best-looking and best-manned fleet I have seen lately; and if their officers are equal to their men, the little American Navy will make a distinguished figure some day.”[43]
            —Vice Admiral Horatio Nelson, 1804

By the end of his campaign, the same officers who once bristled under his authority were speaking of Preble with admiration and loyalty. They called themselves “Preble’s Boys,” not as a joke, but as a badge of pride and identity. His strictness became a standard. His name, a touchstone.

Preble’s discipline was not just a means of imposing order; it helped redefine the image of what an American naval officer should be. His fleet might have left port with but a single frigate and a few brigs, but from it he established a tradition of accountability and of excellence that proved the model for victory in the War of 1812, and the lasting center of the Navy’s professional character.

Emphasis on Autonomy and Initiative

Edward Preble believed a navy was only as strong as the minds leading its ships. While his methods were rigid, his goal was independence, he wanted officers who could act without waiting, think without hesitation, and command without supervision. Preble’s mentorship of men like Stephen Decatur, Isaac Hull, Charles Stewart, and Richard Somers (1778–1804) was grounded in the idea that initiative under pressure was not just desirable, it was required for the survival and success of a small but ambitious fleet.

That philosophy revealed itself most clearly during the gunboat actions of August and September 1804, when junior officers were assigned to lead attacks, command captured vessels and conduct boat-based boarding actions under fire. Preble gave them autonomy, not because he lacked control, but because he saw training in action as the only way to prepare future commanders. His September 18, 1804 dispatch to Secretary Robert Smith outlines these responsibilities in detail, highlighting the independent commands carried out by Decatur, Trippe, Caldwell, and others, often with minimal oversight.[44]

In that same letter, Preble defends his decision to delegate so freely, noting that his officers had proven themselves “worthy of every trust,” and that several had conducted themselves in a manner “beyond all praise.”[45] This was not flattery, it was part of his deliberate system: reward initiative, reinforce competence, and build reputations through merit.

He did not just entrust combat tasks; he appointed officers to command newly outfitted vessels and lead diplomacy when needed. In April 1804, Preble commissioned the captured brig Transfer as the USS Scourge, assigned Lieutenant John B. Dent to command, and appointed Charles Morris (1784–1856), Henry Wadsworth (1785–1804), and Ralph Izard (1785–1822) to key positions aboard her, all junior officers, many of them barely in their twenties.[46] These were not ceremonial appointments. Preble expected them to patrol, blockade, and operate independently along the Tripolitan coast.

Preble’s letters to his officers often strike a tone more akin to mentorship than hierarchy. In one such letter, he instructed Stephen Decatur to either report to Syracuse within four days or, if delayed, to bypass him entirely and proceed to Tripoli to join the blockade squadron, no further orders needed.[47] This kind of mission-type command was almost unheard of in the age of sail, especially among navies that prized obedience above all. Preble expected judgment, flexibility, and accountability in return for freedom of action.

Perhaps the most telling was the continued loyalty of those officers. Well after the Barbary Wars, Preble’s “boys” would later speak of him with reverence, not just for what he taught them but how he entrusted them to act. Their own careers, a mix of decisive action, bold maneuvering and initiative in battle, were in that same tradition. In the War of 1812, it was Preble’s proteges who racked up the Navy’s most iconic victories and they won in part because they had been trained to fight instead of waiting to be ordered to do so.

Preble’s leadership produced not just a hardened squadron, but a generation of self-reliant commanders. His greatest accomplishment was not the bombardment of Tripoli or the maintenance of the blockade, it was the creation of a leadership culture that valued decisiveness, rewarded competence, and trusted youth. His real victory was not over Tripoli, but in the captains he left behind.

Photo Right: Commodore Stephen Decatur, USN (1779-1820). Oil on wood, 35 x 27, by John Wesley Jarvis (1780-1840). Painting in the U.S. Naval Academy Museum Collection. Transferred from the U.S. Naval Lyceum, 1892. Official U.S. Navy Photograph.

     Mentorship and Impact (1804–1815)

From Tripoli to Global War: The Officers He Shaped

The ultimate proof of Preble’s leadership philosophy was not what it achieved in the Mediterranean, but what it made possible afterward. Many of the young officers who had served under him during the Tripolitan campaign would go on to shape the Navy’s performance during the War of 1812. Their victories were not just personal achievements, they reflected the operational habits, command mindset, and internalized values they had absorbed under Preble’s command.

Stephen Decatur Jr. is perhaps the most visible example. While already known for leading the daring raid to destroy the captured USS Philadelphia in 1804, it was during the War of 1812 that his leadership fully matured. As captain of the USS United States, Decatur captured the British frigate Macedonian on October 25, 1812, a textbook broadside engagement in which his crew’s gunnery and discipline mirrored the drills he had practiced under Preble years earlier.[48] According to historian Ian Toll, Decatur’s command reflected the same core tenets emphasized under Preble’s leadership, boldness, operational precision, and crew cohesion rooted in trust and professional respect.[49]

Other officers followed a similar arc. Isaac Hull, who had commanded a gunboat under Preble during the Tripoli harbor actions, would go on to captain the USS Constitution in its famous battle with HMS Guerriere. Hull’s embrace of closing distance quickly and delivering rapid and sustained broadsides, on the other hand, indicated a definite comfort with taking initiative under fire. The crew’s performance, notably their capacity to launch multiple, accurate salvos in rapid succession, was a reminder of habits codified by the type of relentless drilling that Preble had institutionalized during his blockade of Tripoli.[50]

So, too, did Charles Stewart, emerging from Preble’s Mediterranean squadron with an excellent understanding of how to establish order, train a crew and exert command authority without micromanagement. His successful command of USS Constitution in 1815, when he captured both HMS Cyane and HMS Levant in a single engagement, was as much a byproduct of tactical ingenuity as it was a manifestation of his shipboard culture and its internal strength. Stewart’s communications from this period reflect a command model shaped by Preble’s lessons on preparation, personal example and discipline of the crew.[51]

Even officers whose actions were cut short by death, like James Lawrence and Richard Somers, carried forward Preble’s ethos in how they fought and led. Somers’ volunteer command of the USS Intrepid on its ill-fated explosive mission into Tripoli Harbor, and Lawrence’s famous dying command, “Don’t give up the ship”, both exemplify a culture that valued initiative, commitment, and a certain disdain for odds.[52]

Perhaps the most remarkable trend, noted even by contemporary observers, was that the majority of victorious American commanders in 1812 had served under Preble, even though his command had been neither large nor lengthy. Naval leadership under Rodgers, Morris, and Barron involved more men and more ships, but it was the alumni of Preble’s Mediterranean squadron who achieved repeated combat success. Historian Fletcher Pratt observed that these officers were not selected as a group, nor fast-tracked for promotion, and came from a wide range of backgrounds and experience levels. Yet they succeeded because they shared something rare: exposure to a coherent and tested leadership model that emphasized calculated aggression, constant preparation, and personal accountability.[53]

In short, Preble left behind more than a record of victories, he left behind a professional standard. His officers did not merely survive their next war; they shaped it.

Carrying the Standard

By the time the Treaty of Ghent was signed in 1814, the successes of the War of 1812 had changed the perception of the U.S. Navy. The force was no longer a small coastal defense force but a modest but professional service, with reach and surprising striking power across the globe. Much of that transformation can be traced to officers who had internalized a model of leadership defined by their experience under Preble. But their influence did not end with the war.

After the fighting stopped, several of these officers transitioned from warfighters to senior leaders within the peacetime Navy, where they codified what they had once practiced. Charles Stewart went on to serve on the Board of Naval Commissioners and repeatedly advocated for higher training standards and stricter officer evaluation procedures. Isaac Hull eventually became commandant of the Washington Navy Yard, where he emphasized readiness, discipline, and technical training in daily operations, mirroring the exact environment in which he had once been shaped.[54]

Others made their mark by mentoring the next generation of officers. Stephen Decatur, whose death in a duel in 1820 was preceded by a promotion to commodore, left a legacy not only of victories but of sailors and officers who had absorbed lessons from his methods and demeanor. His own correspondence reveals that independence, discipline, and shipboard cohesion were all critical marks of an effective leader, qualities he had been directly exposed to decades earlier in Preble.[55]

The Navy’s emerging institutional identity; its norms, its vision for leadership, its internal culture, did not spring from a single document or reform bill. It developed from lived experience, transmitted from commander to subordinate, ship to ship. What was different about this transmission was its regularity. The officers spawned by Preble did not just imitate him; they cloned his method to the letter because it was effective. They practiced it under fire, in port, in boardrooms and in drydock. They transformed a wartime ethic into a peacetime underpinning.

By the 1820s and 1830s, despite the modifications imposed by new technologies and global deployments re-orienting the tactical picture, core habits concerning tight crew training, officer-led discipline, and decentralized initiative were embedded solidly into the naval psyche. The Navy had started to expand in size and complexity, but it was still stepping in the direction the compass Preble had set.

Long-Term Legacy and Institutionalization (1815–1850s)

Following the War of 1812, the United States Navy entered a new era, no longer a makeshift coastal force, but a standing service with a developing professional identity. The leadership style that had taken root during the Barbary campaign did not vanish with peace. Instead, it became slowly subsumed into the Navy’s institutional structure. Although Edward Preble did not live to witness the full maturation of the force he helped shape, his influence, in policy, practice and memory, remained.

The establishment of the U.S. Naval Academy in 1845 was a significant step in this institutionalization. Modeled in part on European systems, the academies' early curriculum stressed the same priorities Preble had instilled on board his ships: technical competence, discipline, leadership by example and preparedness for independent command. Naval historian Craig Symonds has argued that the Academy’s focus on training officers as moral and intellectual leaders drew directly from the wartime officer corps ethos that men like Decatur, Hull, and Stewart had carried forward from the Tripolitan conflict.[56] Though the Academy represented a formalized system, it was built atop an already functioning leadership tradition that Preble’s generation had established informally at sea.

Formal doctrine also began to reflect Preble’s approach. In the 1830s and 1840s, the Navy adopted new regulations emphasizing clear chains of command, standardized drills, shipboard discipline, and officer accountability, all hallmarks of the Mediterranean Squadron under Preble. The emphasis on routine gunnery practice, for example, which had once set Preble’s ships apart, became standard fleet-wide by midcentury.[57] These changes did not emerge spontaneously. They reflected the institutional memory of combat effectiveness, sustained by officers who had learned their trade in Preble’s cockpit and carried it with them into flag rank.

Cultural memory also played a role. By the mid-19th century, the Tripolitan campaign had become a foundational narrative within the Navy’s institutional story. The Naval Documents Relating to the Wars with the Barbary Powers, compiled under the direction of the Navy Department, explicitly identified Preble’s campaign as a formative experience in the development of U.S. naval doctrine, morale, and offensive spirit.[58] These publications were not just historical archives, they were deliberate tools of heritage preservation, used in lectures, academy instruction, and officer correspondence to underscore the Navy’s professional lineage. Preble’s style, once considered abrasive, became recast as the very essence of American naval professionalism. His Mediterranean campaign was a tactical case study and the origin story of the officer corps, referred to in personnel evaluations, memoirs and internal battles over leadership training for the rest of the antebellum era.[59]

Even decades later, the defining characteristics of U.S. naval leadership, decentralized initiative, technical proficiency, and unyielding discipline, carried echoes of Preble’s methods. His ships were no longer at sea, but his model of command still sailed in the minds of the men who shaped the institution’s next century.

     Challenges and Counterarguments

Internal Resistance and Contemporaneous Criticism

While Edward Preble is now recognized as a pivotal figure in the formation of American naval identity, his leadership during the Barbary campaign was not universally admired in his own time. Several naval officers and political observers regarded his methods as excessively harsh, erratic, or overly ambitious. His strict enforcement of discipline, rigid operational expectations, and autonomous command style stood in contrast to the more conservative doctrines familiar to veterans of European naval service. Even among his junior officers, many of whom would later become deeply loyal, there was early friction. Private letters and wardroom conversations reveal resentment over his severity, his constant drills, and the unrelenting pace of his expectations, particularly during the early months of the 1803–1804 Mediterranean deployment.[60]

Preble also operated without the strong political patronage that shielded other contemporaries such as Commodore John Rodgers (1772–1838) or Captain Thomas Truxtun (1755–1822). His appointment to the Mediterranean command came largely through necessity rather than influence, following a period of ineffective and short-lived leadership. As a result, Preble’s position was somewhat precarious; his authority derived more from results than from Washington connections. That dynamic exposed him to criticism during operational setbacks, most notably the grounding and capture of USS Philadelphia in October 1803, which occurred just before Preble assumed full command.[61] Although he bore no direct responsibility for the incident, some critics used it as evidence of instability within the squadron.

Officials in Washington also received diplomatic and political pushback regarding Preble’s tactics. President Thomas Jefferson and Secretary of the Navy Robert Smith were both contacted by commercial stakeholders and consular personnel concerned that the escalating bombardments and blockades might undermine ongoing negotiations or provoke broader regional unrest.[62] Critics feared that Preble’s aggressive posture, particularly his use of captured enemy gunboats, night assaults, and harbor incursions, risked transforming a limited punitive expedition into a destabilizing Mediterranean conflict, especially given the delicate allegiances among the Barbary States and European maritime powers. These concerns did not lead to his immediate removal, but they reflected the tension between Preble’s proactive command style and the diplomatic caution favored by parts of the Jefferson administration.[63]

Historiographical Debates and Limitations of Legacy

Modern historians have generally credited Edward Preble with shaping the early professional culture of the U.S. Navy, but not without qualification. Some scholars argue that his legacy has been overstated, in part due to the mythology that emerged around the so-called Tripolitan campaign. "Preble's Boys," a term used nostalgically by later authors and naval supporters, runs the danger of reducing the multifaceted reality of naval development to a single narrative focused on one person.  Critics say this romanticized presentation hides the geopolitical and structural forces that also influenced early 19th century U.S. naval doctrine.[64]

For example, the development of professional standards, technical training, and officer evaluation systems did not begin or end with Preble’s squadron. The influence of European naval models, particularly British, was substantial in shaping how American ships operated, drilled, and recorded command protocols. Furthermore, people like Stephen Decatur Jr., Isaac Hull, and Charles Stewart may have personified qualities they acquired under Preble; yet, their own styles developed as a result of later encounters in the War of 1812 and the postwar Navy Department bureaucracy. Their victories, while tied to earlier mentorship, cannot be fully reduced to Preble’s training alone.[65]

The critics have noted, too, that formalized approaches to naval leadership took decades and required formal mechanisms greater than a single squadron. The creation of the U.S. Naval Academy in 1845, often described as the pinnacle of early leadership traditions, was not so much emerging from Mediterranean experience as something of a broader movement to refocus military education, federal bureaucracy, and antebellum opportunities for professionalization. Although Preble’s legacy remained powerful in oral tradition and officer correspondence, the direct institutional stamp he left on the Navy is far murkier than some celebratory narratives let on.[66]

There is also the question of scale. Though tactically important, Preble's command was quite small and short-lived.  His time in theater was barely a year, and his Mediterranean squadron never surpassed a handful of ships. In contrast, other numbers like Commodores John Rodgers, David Porter (1780–1843), and William Bainbridge (1774–1833) held commands with more broad range and longer-term strategic relevance. Some historians argue that the persistent emphasis on Preble’s formative role may reflect the Navy’s need for a foundational myth rather than a balanced institutional history.[67]

While Preble’s leadership unquestionably shaped the behavior and expectations of a key generation of officers, the full evolution of American naval doctrine owed as much to institutional inertia, policy reform, and global strategy as to any single man. To place all credit at his feet risks turning a professional legacy into hagiography.

Conclusion

Every major section of this study has returned to that core claim and reinforced it with evidence: from Preble’s aggressive tactics and his obsessive focus on training, to his hard-earned loyalty among junior officers and the long institutional shadow cast by his methods. The officer corps that came into its own in the War of 1812 did not just emulate his example, it perpetuated a mindset, one born in the crucible of the Tripolitan blockade and made better through the rigors of independent command. That mentality; initiative, technical mastery and unrelenting discipline, shaped the generation of commanders as much as it did the arc of American naval professionalism.

The criticisms and limitations addressed in Section VI do not weaken the argument; they sharpen it. Preble’s style was divisive, and his command was brief, but its intensity and clarity made it formative. Even if he was not the sole architect of naval professionalism, he was the crucible in which it was tested, hardened, and passed down. The Navy’s later adoption of a structured training, readiness, and decentralized initiative was not born in theory or bureaucracy, but rather evolved from lived experience under leaders like Preble demanding, modeling and enforcing those values under fire.

By enshrining high standards through direct mentorship and combat-proven practice, Preble provided the Navy with an enduring blueprint for victory in a world of limited resources and equivocal alliances. His legacy, while sometimes mythologized, was not invented, it was earned. The officers he trained, the doctrines he inspired, and the professional ethos he enforced all point to one conclusion: Preble mattered, not only in his own time, but in the foundation of American sea power.

Through a blend of aggression, disciplined mentorship, and technical precision, Edward Preble’s leadership during the Barbary Wars embedded a warrior ethos into American naval culture that influenced doctrine, officer development, and combat thinking across the 1800s.

Photo Center: The USS Preble (DDG 88) is a modern Arleigh Burke-class guided-missile destroyer in the United States Navy, the sixth ship to be named after Commodore Edward Preble. It is the first destroyer in the world equipped with a high-energy laser. The Preble is forward-deployed to the North Pacific Ocean and is assigned to the U.S. 7th Fleet's principal surface force.

Epilogue: Legacy at Sea

With six warships named in his honor between 1813 and the present, Edward Preble shares the distinction, tied only with George Washington, of having the most U.S. Navy ships named after a single individual. Unlike Washington, however, each USS Preble has served as a combat-capable vessel, maintaining a continuous lineage that reflects not just ceremonial respect but enduring operational relevance.

Preble’s name has endured not only in the officer culture he helped shape but also in the ships that have carried his legacy across centuries of American naval history. These United States Navy vessels are:

• USS Preble (1813), a sloop-of-war that served during the War of 1812 (1812–1815), including the Battle of Lake Champlain (September 11, 1814);
• USS Preble (1839), a sloop that saw service in the Mexican-American War (1846–1848), the American Civil War (1861–1865), and was part of the Perry Expedition to Japan (1853–1854);
• USS Preble (DD-12), a Bainbridge-class destroyer commissioned in 1903, which served in World War I (1917–1918);
• USS Preble (DD-345), a Clemson-class destroyer commissioned in 1920, which saw action in the Pacific during World War II (1941–1945);
• USS Preble (DDG-46), a Farragut-class guided missile destroyer commissioned in 1960, which served during the Vietnam War (1955–1975); and
• USS Preble (DDG-88), an Arleigh Burke-class guided missile destroyer commissioned in 2002, currently in active service.

It is the continuity of two centuries, six ships and multiple wars; it is more than a mere effort of ceremonial naming, but the U.S. Navy’s deep-seated tribute to Edward Preble’s distinctive and formative legacy. His example is still invoked not as distant history, but as a standard of modern leadership, readiness, and resolve.

Endnotes

[1] Joshua London, Victory in Tripoli: How America’s War with the Barbary Pirates Established the U.S. Navy and Shaped a Nation (Nashville: Turner Publishing Company, 2011), 28–29.
[2] Ian W. Toll, Six Frigates: The Epic History of the Founding of the U.S. Navy (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2008), 50–54.
[3] Frank Lambert, “The Barbary Wars: American Independence in the Atlantic World,” Journal of American History 93, no. 1 (2006): 29–30.
[4] Toll, Six Frigates, 54.
[5] Max Boot, The Savage Wars of Peace: Small Wars and the Rise of American Power (New York: Basic Books, 2002), 22–23.
[6] Toll, Six Frigates, 63–64.
[7] Annals of Congress, 3rd Cong., 1st sess., March 1794 Debates.
[8] Henry Knox, “Letter to Congress on Naval Construction,” in American State Papers: Naval Affairs, vol. 1 (Washington, D.C.: Gales and Seaton, 1834), 3–4.
[9] George Washington, First Annual Message to Congress, January 8, 1790, in A Compilation of the Messages and Papers of the Presidents, ed. James D. Richardson (Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1897), 57.
[10] Boot, Savage Wars, 25–27.
[11] Craig L. Symonds, Decision at Sea: Five Naval Battles That Shaped American History (New York: Oxford University Press, 2005), 26–27.
[12] Frederick C. Leiner, The End of Barbary Terror: America’s 1815 War Against the Pirates of North Africa (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 28–29.
[13] London, Victory in Tripoli, 44–46.
[14] Toll, Six Frigates, 96–99.
[15] Lambert, The Barbary Wars, 32–34.
[16] Christopher McKee, Edward Preble: A Naval Biography, 1761–1807 (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 1973), 110–114.
[17] London, Victory in Tripoli, 64–66.
[18] McKee, Edward Preble, 101–105.
[19] Boot, The Savage Wars, 30–32.
[20] London, Victory in Tripoli, 77–80.
[21] Edward Preble, “Letter to Secretary of the Navy Robert Smith, September 18, 1804,” in American State Papers: Naval Affairs, vol. 1, 133–138 (Washington, D.C.: Gales and Seaton, 1834).
[22] Edward Preble, USS Constitution Log Extracts (July 1804), Navy Department Library Digital Archives.
[23] British Consular Reports on the Tripoli Campaign, in Naval Documents Related to the United States Wars with the Barbary Powers, Vol. 4 (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1939).
[24] London, Victory in Tripoli, 90–91.
[25] Preble, USS Constitution Log Extracts (July 1804), Navy Department Library.
[26] Edward Preble, “Letter to Stephen Decatur, April 17, 1804,” in Edward Preble Papers, Library of Congress, Order Book, May 1803–June 1805.
[27] Edward Preble, Order Book, April 17, 1804, entries for Dent, Morris, Wadsworth, and Izard, in Edward Preble Papers, Library of Congress.
[28] Edward Preble, “Letter to Stephen Decatur, April 17, 1804,” in Edward Preble Papers, Library of Congress, Order Book, May 1803–June 1805.
[29] Preble, “Letter to Secretary of the Navy Robert Smith, September 18, 1804,” in American State Papers, 133–138.
[30] United States Congress, “Resolution of Thanks to Commodore Preble and Officers under His Command,” U.S. Statutes at Large, vol. 2, March 3, 1805, 337.
[31] British Consular Reports, in Naval Documents, vol. 4.
[32] Preble, USS Constitution Log Extracts (July 1804), Navy Department Library.
[33] Preble, USS Constitution Log Extracts (July 1804).
[34] Preble, Standing Orders and Regulations of the Mediterranean Squadron, 1803, Manuscript Division, Edward Preble Papers, Library of Congress.
[35] Edward Preble, “Letter to Secretary of State James Madison, October 15, 1803,” in Founders Online, National Archives.
[36] British Consular Reports, in Naval Documents, vol. 4.
[37] Fletcher Pratt, “Edward Preble,” USNI Proceedings, December 1933, vol. 59/12/370.
[38] Ibid.; see also McKee, Edward Preble, 117–118.
[39] The Naval Chronicle, vol. 13 (1805): 236.
[40] Preble, Diary Entry and Official Order Accepting Lieutenant W. M. Livingston’s Resignation, April 15–16, 1804, in Edward Preble Papers, Library of Congress.
[41] Preble, Standing Orders and Regulations of the Mediterranean Squadron, 1803, Library of Congress.
[42] Smith, “Letter to Commodore Edward Preble, May 22, 1804,” in Naval Documents, vol. 4, 430–432.
[43] The Naval Chronicle, vol. 13 (1805): 236.
[44] Spencer C. Tucker, Stephen Decatur: A Life Most Bold and Daring (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 2005), 125–126.
[45] Toll, Six Frigates, 253–254.
[46] Symonds, Decision at Sea, 80–82.
[47] Leiner, End of Barbary Terror, 177–179.
[48] Pratt, “Edward Preble,” USNI Proceedings, vol. 59, no. 12 (December 1933).
[49] Toll, Six Frigates, 256–259.
[50] Symonds, Decision at Sea, 125–127.
[51] Boot, The Savage Wars, 42–44.
[52] Naval Documents, vol. 4, ed. Dudley W. Knox (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1942), x–xi.
[53] Pratt, “Edward Preble,” USNI Proceedings, vol. 59, no. 12 (December 1933).
[54] William S. Dudley, ed., The Naval War of 1812: A Documentary History, vol. 1 (Washington, D.C.: Naval Historical Center, 1985), 6–7.
[55] McKee, Edward Preble, 117–118.
[56] Symonds, Decision at Sea, 125–127.
[57] Boot, Savage Wars, 45; McKee, Edward Preble, 217–220.
[58] Naval Documents, vol. 4, ed. Dudley W. Knox (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1942), x–xi.
[59] William S. Dudley, ed., The Naval War of 1812: A Documentary History, vol. 1, 6–7.
[60] London, Victory in Tripoli, 64–66.
[61] Leiner, End of Barbary Terror, 28–29.
[62] London, Victory in Tripoli, 77–80.
[63] Boot, The Savage Wars, 42–44.
[64] Toll, Six Frigates, 253–254.
[65] Symonds, Decision at Sea, 125–127.
[66] Symonds, Decision at Sea, 85–87.
[67] Boot, The Savage Wars, 40–42.

Bibliography and Further Reading

Primary Sources

Annals of Congress. 3rd Congress, 1st Session. March 1794 Debates. https://memory.loc.gov/ammem/amlaw/. Accessed April 15, 2025.

British Consular Reports on the Tripoli Campaign. In Naval Documents Related to the United States Wars with the Barbary Powers, vol. 4. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1939.

Knox, Henry. “Letter to Congress on Naval Construction.” In American State Papers: Naval Affairs, vol. 1, 3–4. Washington, D.C.: Gales and Seaton, 1834.

Preble, Edward. Edward Preble Papers. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.

———. Standing Orders and Regulations of the Mediterranean Squadron, 1803. Manuscript Division, Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.

———. “Letter to Secretary of the Navy Robert Smith, September 18, 1804.” In American State Papers: Naval Affairs, vol. 1, 133–138. Washington, D.C.: Gales and Seaton, 1834.

———. USS Constitution Log Extracts (July 1804). Navy Department Library Digital Archives.

———. “Letter to Secretary of State James Madison, October 15, 1803.” In Founders Online, National Archives. https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Madison/02-05-02-0309. Accessed April 15, 2025.

Smith, Robert. “Letter to Commodore Edward Preble, May 22, 1804.” In Naval Documents Related to the United States Wars with the Barbary Powers, vol. 4, 430–432. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1939.

The Naval Chronicle. Vol. 13. London, 1805. https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/naval-chronicle/3515BDFFDF9EE7CF7A62945FB1D2F387#fndtn-information. Accessed April 15, 2025.

United States Congress. “Resolution of Thanks to Commodore Preble and Officers under His Command.” In U.S. Statutes at Large, vol. 2, March 3, 1805. https://www.loc.gov/law/help/statutes-at-large/. Accessed April 15, 2025.

Washington, George. First Annual Message to Congress, January 8, 1790. In A Compilation of the Messages and Papers of the Presidents, edited by James D. Richardson, 57. Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 1897.

Secondary Sources

Boot, Max. The Savage Wars of Peace: Small Wars and the Rise of American Power. New York: Basic Books, 2002.

Dudley, William S., ed. The Naval War of 1812: A Documentary History. Vol. 1. Washington, D.C.: Naval Historical Center, 1985.

Lambert, Frank. “The Barbary Wars: American Independence in the Atlantic World.” Journal of American History 93, no. 1 (2006): 28–49.

Leiner, Frederick C. The End of Barbary Terror: America’s 1815 War Against the Pirates of North Africa. New York: Oxford University Press, 2006.

London, Joshua. Victory in Tripoli: How America’s War with the Barbary Pirates Established the U.S. Navy and Shaped a Nation. Nashville: Turner Publishing Company, 2011.

McKee, Christopher. Edward Preble: A Naval Biography, 1761–1807. Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 1973.

Pratt, Fletcher. “Edward Preble.” USNI Proceedings 59, no. 12 (December 1933). https://www.usni.org/magazines/proceedings/1933/december/edward-preble. Accessed April 15, 2025.

Symonds, Craig L. Decision at Sea: Five Naval Battles That Shaped American History. New York: Oxford University Press, 2005.

Toll, Ian W. Six Frigates: The Epic History of the Founding of the U.S. Navy. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 2008.

Tucker, Spencer C. Stephen Decatur: A Life Most Bold and Daring. Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 2005.