To carry out this doctrine, the Admiral sent for a gold-headed cane, a gold watch, and twelve pieces of cloth.  The Prime Minister wanted a double-barreled gun and a gold chain.  The Aga of the Port said he would be satisfied with some thing in the jewelry-line, simple, but rich.  Officials of low rank came in person to ask for coffee and sugar.  Even his Highness condescended to levy small contributions.  Hearing that Eaton had a Grecian mirror in his house, he requested that it might be sent to decorate the cabin of his yacht.

As month after month passed, and no tribute-ship arrived, the Bey’s threats grew louder and more frequent.  At last he gave orders to fit out his cruisers.  Eaton sent letters of warning to the Consuls at Leghorn and Gibraltar, and prepared to strike his flag.  At the last moment the Hero sailed into port, laden with naval stores such as never before had been seen in Tunis.  The Bey was softened.  “It is well,” he said; “this looks a Lotte more like truth; but the guns, the powder, and the jewels are not on board.”

A letter from Secretary Pickering instructed Eaton to try to divert the Bey’s mind from the jewels; but if that were impossible, to order them in England, where they could be bought more cheaply; and to excuse the delay by saying “that the President felt a confidence, that, on further reflection upon all circumstances in relation to the United States, the Bey would relinquish this claim, and therefore did not give orders to provide the present.”  As the jewels had been repeatedly promised by the United States, this weak attempt to avoid giving them was quite consistent with the shabby national position we had taken In the Mediterranean.  It met with the success it deserved.  The Bey was much too shrewd a fellow, especially in the matter of presents, to be imposed upon by any such Yankee pretences.  The jewels were ordered in London, and, as compensation for this new delay, the demand for a frigate was renewed.  After nearly two years of anxiety, Eaton could write home that the prospects of peace were good.

His despatches had not passed the Straits when the Pacha of Tripoli sent for Consul Cathcart, and swore by “Allah and the head of his son,” that, unless the President would give him two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for a new treaty, and an annual subsidy of twenty thousand, he would declare war against the United States.

These two years of petty humiliations had exasperated Eaton’s bold and fiery temper.  He found some relief in horse-whipping Monsieur Famin, who had been unceasing in his quiet annoyances, and in writing to the Government at home despatches of a most undiplomatic warmth and earnestness.  From the first, he had advised the use of force.  “If you would have a free commerce in those seas, you must defend it.  It is useless to buy a peace.  The more you give, the more the Turks will ask for.  Tribute is considered an evidence of your weakness;