The two ships now began exchanging shots, but the distance was too great for any damage on either side.  A little after 9 o’clock on that bright sunshiny Sunday morning they were close enough for the wonderful marksmanship of the American to display itself.  The first shot that found the Macedonian entered through the starboard bulwark and killed the sergeant of marines.  A minute later the mizzen topmast was sundered, and, cluttered with sails, yards and rigging, it fell into the maintop, where it hung suspended, liable to fall at any moment and crush those beneath.

The fire of the American became frightfully destructive.  It seemed as if every shot splintered some part of the rigging or hull and killed and wounded men right and left.  The exasperating feature of this awful business was that neither Captain Carden nor his aids, who were directing operations from the quarter deck, could discover any corresponding damage on the American ship.  Her mizzen topgallant mast had been carried away, but it looked as if all the other shots sent in her direction sped past without harm.  She was wrapped in an immense volume of smoke made by her own broadsides, and through it constantly shot tongues of crimson flame, while the roar of the rapidly discharged guns was incessant.

Now and then a rift appeared in the billows of vapor, through which the Stars and Stripes were seen fluttering, while the men worked as coolly at their guns as if going through manoeuvres in time of peace.  Finally the smoke became so dense that the Americans were unable to see through it.  Ceasing firing for a few minutes, the frigate moved far enough forward to pass from under the impenetrable blanket of vapor and then renewed the battle with more terrific effect than before.  Her firing was so rapid that several times Captain Carden believed the incessant flame indicated she was on fire.  The report was spread among his men to encourage them, but no such good fortune came to the Englishmen.

One of the men on board the Macedonian gave the following graphic account of his experience: 

“Our men kept cheering with all their might.  I cheered with them, though I confess I scarcely knew what for.  Certainly there was nothing very inspiriting in the aspect of things.  Grape shot and canister were pouring through our portholes like leaden hail.  The large shot came against the ship’s side, shaking her to the very keel, and passing through her timbers and scattering terrific splinters, which did more appalling work than the shot itself.  A constant stream of wounded men were being hurried to the cockpit from all quarters of the ship.  My feelings were pretty much as I suppose every one else felt at such a time.  That men are without thought when they stand among the dying and dead is too absurd an idea to be entertained.  We all appeared cheerful, but I know that many a serious thought ran through my mind.  Still, what could we do but keep up a semblance at least of animation?  To run from our quarters would have been certain death from the hands of our own officers; to give way to gloom or show fear would do no good and might brand us with the name of cowards and insure certain defeat.”