"'Twas on a Black Baller I first served my time,Yo ho, blow the man down!And on that Black Baller I wasted my prime,Oh, give me some time to blow the man down!"
"'Twas on a Black Baller I first served my time,Yo ho, blow the man down!And on that Black Baller I wasted my prime,Oh, give me some time to blow the man down!"
"'Twas on a Black Baller I first served my time,Yo ho, blow the man down!And on that Black Baller I wasted my prime,Oh, give me some time to blow the man down!"
"'Twas on a Black Baller I first served my time,
Yo ho, blow the man down!
And on that Black Baller I wasted my prime,
Oh, give me some time to blow the man down!"
Murad had been forced to ship some of the toughest rascals in Baltimore in order to complete his crew. They were men who had gotten into trouble through acts of violence ashore, and were forced to take to sea. They, too, had heard rumors that Murad was a spy in the employ of the Barbary powers, but it did not seem to bother them. I am of the opinion that they meant to seize the vessel before it had sailed out of sight of the Atlantic coast.
If such was their plan, Mr. Bludsoe, the mate, was their chief obstacle. He was a fearless, muscular man, and a belaying-pin in his hand was a deadly weapon. Even in a plain fist fight he was equal to two of them. He was not overfond of the Egyptian, yet he was the sort of person who stuck to a task once he had entered on it.
He suspected Steve Dunn and his crowd of an intention to murder the officers and seize the ship, and told the skipper of his suspicions. Murad gave orders that we should be mustered before him. We were under the guns of an American frigate when the orders were issued, and the crew obeyed promptly.
"You men have far more weapons on your persons than is necessary," the Egyptian said smoothly. "In the interest of good fellowship, and to keep you from slashing and shooting at each other, I desire you to leave your knives and pistols in my care. Mr. Bludsoe, you will search the men's berths and bags and bring to me for safe-keeping any weapons you find!"
I saw sullen glances exchanged by Steve Dunn, Mulligan and other members of the crew.
"We ain't none of us planning any trouble among ourselves!" said Steve. "We don't know when this here vessel is going to be boarded by pirates and we want our weapons handy!"
"Handy they shall be!" said Murad, still smiling. "It would be too bad to start ill-feeling between you and me by your disobeying this, my first request. It would bode ill for our voyage. I was once an admiral in the Sultan's navy. I know how to make men obey orders. I should hate to have to ask the captain of yonder frigate to send a crew aboard to help me make my crew obey. Throw down your knives. You have them sharpened to a point that makes an honest man shiver. My good fellows, show me what a good crew I have by obeying me—at once!"
His voice rang on the last two words. The men dropped their dirks on the deck. There was a motion of Steve's hand towards the inside of his shirt as the skipper stooped to pick up one of the knives, but Murad seemed to have eyes in the back of his head.
"Look, Mr. Bludsoe," he said, straightening himself swiftly, "Steve Dunn has a second knife that he wants to give up!"
He pulled a pistol from his pocket. "Give us thehidden knives too, men! This pistol might go off if I am kept waiting too long!"
Mr. Bludsoe had returned with an armful of weapons. He deposited them at the skipper's back and went down the line, feeling for dirks. He found two. Ending his search, he ordered the men to go forward.
In spite of these precautions, the men continued to grow rebellious. The man who relieved Samuel Childs at the wheel disobeyed orders. When Mr. Bludsoe scolded him he gave impudence.
After a scuffle, in which several of the loyal members of the crew, including Samuel Childs and myself, went to Mr. Bludsoe's assistance, this man, Bryan by name, was put in irons.
"Holystone the decks!" the next order given after this episode, brought no response from seven members of the crew. They outnumbered the officers and the loyal sailors. If we had not taken possession of their arms, we should have been in a bad way. The men came forward towards the Egyptian.
"Release Bryan if you want us to work!" Steve called.
"I am the master of this ship!" said Murad calmly, "Bryan is in irons for disobedience. Others of the crew who refuse to obey orders will be treated as mutineers. You know the punishment for that! Holystone the decks!"
They folded their arms and stood glowering at the skipper.
"I shall starve them into submission!" Murad said to the mate.
Two days passed. The men stayed forward. The officers made no attempt to give them orders. Fortunately, the weather remained calm, and the few of uswho were loyal were sufficient to handle the sails. If a tempest came, we would be in a serious situation.
"They will attack like starved wolves tonight!" said Mr. Bludsoe to Burke, Ross and myself, "I shall give each of you a pistol. Your own lives are at stake. Shoot any man of them who comes aft."
The first man who came aft, however, we did not shoot.
I was the first to catch sight of his figure stealing away from the forecastle. I fear that my voice trembled when I cried:
"Halt! Throw up your hands!"
"It's Reynolds," he said, "Take me to the skipper. I want to throw myself on his mercy. Intercede for me, lad. I've had my fill of that gang yonder!"
The captain and mate had joined me. "It's the first break in their ranks," he said, "and I'll take advantage of the chance to show them that they can still surrender without being strung up."
He turned to me.
"Give Reynolds biscuits and coffee! He will take the wheel after that, and if he fails us there we'll——"
He whirled his hand around his neck and then pointed to a yardarm in a way that emphasized his meaning far more than words could have done.
The surrender of Reynolds led us to hope that others were on the verge of yielding. We questioned Reynolds as he ate ravenously the food we brought him. He was whole-heartedly aiding us now, because he knew that if the mutineers triumphed it would go hard with him.
He said that if we could show the men that we were powerful enough to conquer Steve Dunn and Mulligan,the ringleaders, the others would be glad to go back to work.
"It's those two who're to blame for us not yielding sooner," he explained. "We had planned twelve hours ago to come out and throw ourselves on the skipper's mercy, but Mulligan knocked me down when I suggested it. He thought that he had me cowed, and that I would be afraid to make any further attempt. He stationed me as a guard at the forecastle scuttle tonight, while he planned with the others just how they would attack you. If they could get rid of the skipper and the mate, they thought it would be easy to bring the others over to their side. I expect they'll be crawling out very soon to make the attempt."
"Captain," said Mr. Bludsoe, "I think I can end this. There are lads in that forecastle whom I don't want to see hung for mutiny. They resent our trying to starve them into submission, and I'm afraid the longer they go without food, the more desperate they'll become. May I promise them that if they come forth peacefully and go to work you will take no steps to enforce the laws against them?"
Murad had been plainly worried by the rebellion. We were out of the track of American frigates, and we still had a long voyage before us. If a storm came, the few loyal men would find themselves overtaxed in managing the vessel, and while they were endeavoring to save the ship, the mutineers would have an opportunity to do murder.
I could not help wondering, too, whether the Egyptian was not fearful as to the effect the mutiny would have on his treasure hunt, for the more I studied him, the deeper became my conviction that he had securedpossession of the rector's secret, and, under the pretext of going on a trading voyage, was off on a solitary treasure quest. One of my duties was to keep the cabin clean and tidy, and when opportunity offered I had poked in chests and cubby-holes to see if I could find the rector's map of the treasure country. My hurried searches had failed thus far.
Thoughts kindred to mine must have been running through Murad's mind, for he consented to Mr. Bludsoe's proposal.
"But I warn you against entering the forecastle!" he said, "Better talk to them at a distance. Keep them well covered with your pistols. They've found weapons!"
The mate went forward. I had conceived a strong admiration for him, and, on an impulse I followed his shadowy figure as it crept along the starboard side, past the galley, towards the forecastle hatchway. Ross and Burke, not to be outdone, strung along behind us.
Mr. Bludsoe had reached the forecastle hatch without meeting a person. I expected to hear him yell his message down the hatchway, which was open, but instead I saw his black figure leap into the yellow glare that came up from the forecastle lantern. He had leaped down into the room.
I crept up to the scuttle, and leaned down the hatchway, cutlass in hand. I was determined to fight in the mate's defence if necessary, though I knew that my cutlass, with only a youth's arm behind it, was a poor weapon against desperate men, even if they were only armed with dirks.
The men had been standing in the center of the forecastle, and seemed to have been on the verge of rushing forth to attack us. Reynold's desertion had not beennoted by them, and they had evidently thought that the person leaping into the room was their sentinel. The mate's spring, therefore, took them by surprise. They glanced uncertainly up the ladder, saw the flash of my cutlass, and thought that our entire force was back of Mr. Bludsoe. It was a reasonable conclusion, for who would have dreamed that the mate would have done so bold a thing.
Knives flashed. "Here's one of them," Steve cried, "thought he'd starved the strength out of us, I reckon. We'll show him!"
Bludsoe put his back against the ladder and leveled his pistols at the most menacing mutineers.
"Men," he said, "I can kill four of you before you down me. There are others waiting to take care of the rest. Listen—I haven't come down here to shoot—I'm trying to end this row and save you from the gallows. Some of you have never been in trouble before. Some of you are married men. It's no use trying to budge the skipper. You won't get a bite to eat until you start to work. If you hold out another twelve hours the chances are some frigate will see our signals and take you to where you'll get short shrift. Come now, throw down your knives and——"
A heavy boot, viciously aimed, knocked me aside. Its owner jumped across my body and leapt towards the scuttle.
I saw the huge bulk of Mulligan pass me. He had been out to reconnoiter and we had passed him in the darkness.
"Look out! Mulligan's behind you!" I cried.
A shot was fired.
I crept in despair towards the hatchway. I was unableto interpret from the sounds and curses that issued from the forecastle what had happened, and feared that I should see Mr. Bludsoe trampled upon by those he had tried to rescue from their own folly. Yet, as I raised my head to peer down, I heard his voice ring out:
"There's no need for anyone else to pay the price Mulligan has paid. Down with your weapons!"
Dirks and pistols clattered to the deck. Some of the points of the knives stuck into the timber. I looked at these shivering blades and thanked Providence that they had found lodging there instead of in the mate's breast.
Out they came, sullen but subdued. Mr. Bludsoe drove them aft with his pistol points.
"Thank you, lad," he said, as he passed me, "I owe my life to you!"
I peered down into the forecastle. Under the smoky lamp lay Mulligan—a huge, motionless mass. Blood flowed from his temple.
The wind had died; the sun was hidden in haze; the sky darkened; the barometer fell. "We'll be in the midst of a tempest soon," Samuel Childs whispered to me, "if the rebels had held out they might have had the ship at their mercy."
"Call all hands to shorten sail," the skipper said calmly to Mr. Bludsoe.
The ship was made snug; the sails were furled; the spars, water casks, and boats were lashed; the hatches were battened down.
Seeing that the men were thoroughly cowed, the skipper passed the word to the cook to serve them with breakfast. From the galley came the sound of pots and pans. The peace meal was ready.
It grew warmer as we approached Gibraltar. Flying fish arose from the water and shot over the surface like silver arrows. Porpoises frolicked around us. Flocks of sea-gulls followed us as we passed the southern coast of Europe. Through the Azores we sailed until we came in sight of the red cliffs of St. Vincent, on the Portugal coast. Then we entered the Straits of Gibraltar and caught our first sight of the mountainous African coast.
I had better note here that three continents form the shores of the Mediterranean Sea—Europe, Asia and Africa. The entrance to this sea from the Atlantic is guarded by the Pillars of Hercules, formed by Gibraltar on the European shore and "the Mount of God" on the African side. These pillars, it interested me to discover, were thought by the ancients to have been left standing by Hercules as monuments to his might when he tore asunder the continents. It will be remembered that along the sea these monuments of nature guarded, civilization had been cradled. Art, architecture, law, poetry, drama, and religion had come into being on these coasts. The treasure tomb that now nightly filled my dreams had doubtless been laid in these early days.
And now, as the events of my story have so much to do with this North African shore, let us have a clear understanding of its cities and people. The coast iscalled Barbary, because the race that inhabits it are named Berbers. They belong to the same stock as the Anglo-Saxons and many of them have fair complexions, rosy cheeks and light hair. They are fanatical Mohammedans, and despise us because we are Christians. The Moors and Arabs, who are descended from the Mussulman warriors who captured Africa centuries ago, abound here too, and are the people with whom our quarrel lies.
Barbary is sometimes called Little Africa. It extends from Egypt to the Atlantic Ocean and from the Mediterranean Sea back to the Sahara desert. Just over the way from Gibraltar lies Morocco. It is a little city with white walls surrounded by great hills. Most of the cities of Barbary are similarly situated between mountains and water.
Next to the province of Morocco, lies Algeria, and farther on is Tripoli, the farthest boundary of which adjoins Egypt.
Algeria, I learned, is five times as large as Pennsylvania. Algiers, one of the largest cities on the coast, is its capital. Walls of stone have been built across the harbor as fortifications. Algiers resembles an amphitheatre. Its streets rise on terraces. The streets are narrow; bazaars are everywhere. These are roofed over with matting and lined with booths in which all sorts of goods are sold. The booths are nothing more or less than holes in the walls in which the dealer sits, while the customers stand out in the street and buy. One bazaar is given over to the shoemakers; another bazaar is devoted to jewelry; still another is set apart for the sale of perfumery. Tailors, saddlers, rug sellers—each trade has a separate bazaar. Here are shops selling carpets and rugs, and there is a café in which Turkishcoffee, as sweet as molasses, may be sipped. Yonder is the stand of an Arab selling sweetmeats; beyond him a man in a long gown fries meat and sells it hot from the fire.
There are solid-looking public buildings, and a great mosque that covers several acres. A turbaned priest from the minaret which rises far above the roofs of the shops and homes calls out the hour of prayer, and the Mohammedans kneel.
A picturesque crowd pours through the dark, narrow streets. Arabs in long gowns; brown Arabs from the desert; Berbers from their country villages; Jewish girls in plain long robes of bright colors—pink, red, green, and yellow; Moorish women in veils; Berber girls with their rosy faces exposed; boys with shaved heads, wearing gowns and skull caps; holy men and beggars innumerable. Some of these veiled Mohammedan wives are only thirteen years old.
We anchored off Sale, a harbor of Morocco. I heard our skipper tell the mate that he proposed to go ashore and inquire into the chances of disposing of part of our cargo to advantage.
No sooner had he left the ship than I, whose task it was to keep Murad's quarters tidy, began to make a thorough search of his belongings. I was seeking that which only my suspicions told me existed—the map showing the location of the treasure.
There was a sea chest in the cabin which Murad kept locked. In another room of the ship, however, I had found a similar chest. The key to this one I had taken, hoping that it would open the Egyptian's strong-box. In this experiment I was fortunate—the key turned in the lock as if it were made to fit it, and the lid was loosened.
I found in the top of the chest the volume that had been stolen from the rector's library. The trail was hot. There was, however, no map between its pages. Deeper into the chest I plunged. At the bottom I pried up a false bottom and found a paper. It seemed to be a copy instead of an original. I concluded that if this was the diagram of the treasure site, Murad had taken ashore the original, and had left this one aboard in case he lost the first one.
The map was simple enough. It showed a section of the southern coast of the Mediterranean. The towns Tripoli and Derne were indicated. Between them was a village lettered Tokra. In the neighborhood of this spot were queer markings, which were explained by writing at the bottom of the map. When I tried to decipher this I found that it was in Arabic. The original was doubtless in English. Murad, in copying, had doubtless changed the English to Arabic to keep the secret from prying eyes.
Towards midnight—while I was on watch—I heard a noise on the water from the direction of shore. It sounded like rowing, and yet it was too indistinct a sound for me to make certain. I decided that Murad had given up his idea of spending the night ashore and was returning. However, I asked Mr. Bludsoe to listen.
"Oars!" he said, his ear cocked over the landward side.
He listened again. "There are three boats at least!" he whispered, "it looks like an attack. Pass the word for all hands!"
By this time both watches were on deck. Pistols and cutlasses were passed out. We lined up along the bulwarks, peering out.
The mate stood near me. I heard him thinking aloud."So this is the way our precious skipper protects us from corsairs?" he muttered, "He goes ashore and an attack follows. Looks queer. Wonder what slaves are worth in Morocco? Maybe he's planning to sell a double cargo—goods and men!"
We could hear the sounds plainly now. The splash of the oars struck with a chill more than one of us, but we gripped our weapons and made up our minds to sell our lives dearly.
Mr. Bludsoe had been sweeping the sea with a night glass. "They are near us, men—four boats, swarming with cutthroats!"
He peered over the rail and shouted:
"On board the boats! This is an American schooner with whom you have no business. Come nearer at your peril!"
Still the boats came on. The steady beat of the oars tightened our nerves almost to the snapping point.
The mate shouted a second warning. It was not heeded. "It's either their lives or ours," he said to us, "Pick out your marks. Fire!"
Our cannon belched forth flame. Shrieks and curses took the place of the splash of oars. We saw two boatloads of men pouring into the water, snatching at the remnants of their cutters. On board the remaining two boats was havoc and confusion. We saw these boats at last turn stern and make for the shore.
One of the boats managed to escape our fire and came up against the schooner on the farther side. This boat was not in the group we had first sighted, and in the excitement of the battle, it stole up on us without discovery. I chanced to turn in its direction just in time to see a dark head appear above the bulwarks. I caughtup a cutlass and ran with a cry to cleave the fellow's head. He ducked, and my blade cut into the rail. The mate, with more presence of mind, had caught up a heavy shot from beside the Long Tom and called upon others to follow his example. Down into the boat they dropped the balls, smashing heads and smashing boat. Before her crew could get a foothold on our chains, she filled with water and sank. In this fashion we met and overcame our greatest danger.
"Lower away a boat!" said Mr. Bludsoe, "we can't let those wretches out there drown without making some attempt at rescue!"
We rowed out and brought in three men and a lad.
Mr. Bludsoe questioned them by the light of a lantern. We gathered around in a circle. The boy could talk Spanish, which the mate also could speak. They were dark, half-naked creatures, with something of the appearance of sleek rats as the water dripped from their glossy, matted hair.
Two of the Moslems were sullen and made no responses to the mate's query. One, however, was explosive. His rage was directed not against us, but against some one of his own party.
"Who is responsible for this attack? Answer truly, unless you want to swung from yonder yardarm!" Mr. Bludsoe threatened.
The fiery individual, with frantic gestures, poured a response intended for our mate into the lad's ears.
"The captain of your ship betrayed you," said the interpreter with rolling eyes and flashing teeth. "He betrayed us too. He said that it would be easy for us to capture you because he had assured you that you were free fromattack. He led us to believe that the guns had been spiked and the weapons thrown overboard."
Mr. Bludsoe turned to the crew. "Murad made such an attempt. I found him fooling with the cannon and scared him off. I suspected him after that, and gave him no chance. He's sold us in advance to the pirates of Morocco. They'll be putting out in pursuit of us as soon as they learn of the failure!"
He had scarcely spoken when two lateen sails could be seen moving out from shore. We were becalmed, and capture seemed certain.
"We can't beat off their warships! Man the longboat!" Mr. Bludsoe ordered, "We'll have to trust to yonder mist to hide us. We ought to be able to reach the Spanish coast if it holds!"
The moon had been clouded by a fog. We could feel the haze settling upon us. The change seemed to precede a storm.
With the war-ships nearly upon us, we rowed off into the haze, taking the prisoners with us.
When we were a league from the shore, we heard a gun fired. I thought that the corsairs, who by this time had doubtless found that we had deserted the ship, were cruising in search of us and had fired the gun in our direction. No balls struck the water near us, however, and we rowed on desperately.
Mr. Bludsoe questioned Mustapha. "It is the hurricane signal on shore," the youth explained. "It means that the barometer has fallen tremendously, and that a storm's on the way. You need have no fear of pursuit. The ships that came out to attack you will seek shelter now. We shall all sink if you do not make for the beach!"
Mr. Bludsoe ordered us to row towards the Moroccan shore, in a direction that would take us clear of the harbor. Heavy gusts of wind beat down upon us and floods of rain poured over our straining muscles. The wind became a gale and threatened to come with greater intensity. Furious waves leaped up on every side to swallow our boat. We gave up hope of reaching the shore, and rowed on expecting every uncertain stroke of our oars to be the last.
Suddenly Mr. Bludsoe's voice rang out calm and strong through the tempest. "There's a ship ahead. It must be one of those that came out to attack us. Yet it's better to take our chances aboard her than to stay in this sea. Pull towards her!"
The ship loomed up larger than we had expected. Her sails were cut differently from those of the corsairs. Against the gray of the storm we caught sight of the American flag.
"By all that's holy," the mate cried, "she's a Yankee frigate!"
The frigate, whose commander was shifting her to the shelter of the harbor, caught sight of us as we plunged towards her bow. Willing hands dipped down to help us climb over her side.
The frigate's name wasGeorge Washington. Her commander, Captain William Bainbridge, was bearing to the Dey of Algiers certain presents. With great joy I learned that peace had been made between Algiers and the United States, and that Alexander and his comrades were on their way home. Of these things I shall have more to tell later. We were not yet out of danger. The hurricane now seemed to be concentrated over us. The wind's force must have been over a hundred miles anhour. The tremendous gusts struck the heavy vessel with the force of battering rams and drove her forward as if she were a cockle-shell. We could see the shore looming up.
"Rocks!" someone shouted. We were within a hundred yards of them when a miracle happened. The wind shifted its fury. It now blew in a twisting fashion from the shore. Our ship turned with it. On another side of the harbor there was a beach of yielding sand. Beating behind us with the same terrific force, the hurricane sent the nose of the frigate into the sand in a way that held her more firmly than a hundred anchors.
Here we stayed without listing. The first part of the cyclone lasted about two hours. There was a lull and we thought the storm was over. It returned an hour later, however, in all of its fury, and we expected every moment to be torn from our haven and hurled across the harbor to destruction—a fate that we could now see had overtaken many vessels, for the shore was lined with wrecks. Whistling, roaring, devastating, it whirled over us, lashing the waves until they dashed with savage force over our decks. Our only comfort was that the onslaughts gradually decreased in strength, and we saw the barometer rise rapidly from its lowest point.
On shore, storehouses, castles, and residences were unroofed or demolished entirely.
Spars, masts, and parts of wharves floated on top of the waves. I shuddered as my eyes rested on a dead body floating amidst a mass of wreckage. It seemed providential that we were not floating corpses.
A wreck lay near us. She had overturned and the water was washing across her deck. She had a familiarlook. Her stern was towards us. I caught a glimpse of her name and readThe Rose of Egypt.
Murad had played upon a youth's imagination to lead him into a trap. The rascal's gift at story-telling had been drawn upon to add me to those he hoped to lead into captivity that he might obtain ransoms. He also, no doubt, had it in his mind to revenge himself on the commodore by persecuting one of whom the sailor was fond. As my knowledge of Barbary grew, I saw that it was quite possible for Murad to act as a spy for one or all of these Barbary rulers. America was a new country. The corsair princes desired information as to how rich she was; what they had to fear from her navy, etc. It came out later that secret discussions in Congress upon the subject of the Barbary powers were promptly reported to the Dey of Algiers, so that when our envoys came to negotiate with him he threw their secrets into their faces. But, be that as it may, adventures were crowding upon me so swiftly that I felt disposed to forgive Murad for the sake of the thrills he had sent my way.
When I felt the deck of theGeorge Washingtonbeneath my feet, I felt a different thrill than that which had run through me when I stepped aboardThe Rose of Egypt. I was a navy lad now, and my own quest for treasure, that had absorbed all of my attentions, dwindled before the fact that it was now my duty to consider the interests of my country more than my own selfish aims.
Moreover I was to meet men, and find adventures, that made my treasure hunt for the time being a secondary interest. I intended before I quitted the Barbary coast to make the search; meanwhile I was content to take what experiences navy life brought me, awaiting my opportunity to enter the desert in search of the riches. The Egyptian, I had reason to believe, had been killed in the hurricane. The secret of the treasure was safe with me. Time would unfold my opportunity.
As for those who are following this chronicle, let us hope that the thrilling naval activities these pages will now mirror will be more absorbing even than the personal experiences I have told about; yet if any wonder as to the result of my quest for treasure, let me encourage them by saying that it was the historic events I am now about to relate that placed me at last in a position toreach the spot where the jewels and trinkets described by the rector were buried.
My good friend Samuel Childs found an old comrade on board theGeorge Washington—one Reuben James. The two had been shipmates in the merchant service. Reuben, though now scarcely more than a boy, was a veteran sailor. He had gone to sea at the age of thirteen, had sailed around the world, and had every sort of experience that comes to a seaman. All of us became members of the frigate's crew, and Samuel and I were chosen for Reuben's watch, so that the three of us had many a chance to talk things over.
From Reuben I drew forth an account of the release of Alexander and the other American captives. It was not until Samuel told him that I was a brother to one of the captives that he displayed interest in me; after he had discovered this fact, however, he went out of his way to be kind to me.
"Well do I remember Alexander Forsyth," Reuben said, "and I'll swear that when I met him at Marseilles, where he was awaiting a passage home after his release from bloody Algiers, he was the nearest thing to a dead man that I have ever seen alive! He looked like a skeleton with a beating heart! Mark my word, he'll never go to sea again! What can you expect—after years of cruelty, starvation, sickness, chain-dragging!"
"You see," Reuben said in excuse for our statesmen, "our Congressmen had other important things to worry about: Indian uprisings, trouble at sea with England and France; a union to form between the bickering commonwealths, finances to raise for running the government,and what not? A few sailors imprisoned in an out-of-the-way part of the world were apt to be forgotten!"
The fresh captures by the pirates that brought about the settlement had, I was informed, happened in this manner:
When the Portuguese warships withdrew from guarding the Straits of Gibraltar, the Algerine cruisers entered the Atlantic in four ships and swooped down on unsuspecting American vessels. Eleven of our ships were captured by corsairs. Their crews were taken as slaves to Algiers, and, added to those already held in captivity, increased the number to one hundred and fifteen.
The Swedish consul warned Colonel Humphreys, our minister to Portugal, that Bassara, a Jew slave-broker at Algiers, through whom the United States was trying to procure the release of the captives, was out of favor with the Dey, and that to succeed the business should be transferred to the Jew Bacri. This was done, and an agreement soon followed.
Captain O'Brien was sent to Lisbon to get from Colonel Humphreys the money the United States promised to pay. Humphreys was forced to send O'Brien to London to borrow the funds, but, on account of the unsettled condition of European politics, O'Brien failed in his mission. The Dey, vexed at the delay, threatened to abandon the treaty. Upon this a frigate was offered by the American envoys as an inducement to hold to the treaty, while Bacri himself advanced the necessary gold. The prisoners were then released and sent in Bacri's shipFortuneto Marseilles, where the American consul, Stephen Cathalan, Jr., secured a passage home for them in the Swedish shipJupiter.
What I had learned of the insolence of the Barbaryrulers had come to me thus far only by hearsay. I was now to see an example of it with my own eyes.
While I was thus gathering the details of Alexander's tardy release, theGeorge Washingtonwas proceeding from Morocco to Algiers, Captain Bainbridge having been ordered by our government to deliver presents to the Algerine prince. Before leaving Morocco, Captain Bainbridge, who had heard the story of the assault upon us with amazement and anger, demanded of the Dey of Morocco that he surrender to him the Egyptian, Murad, for the action of our government.
Word came back that a search had been made for Murad but that no person such as we described could be found in the city. Punishment for those who had attacked us was also requested, but the oily monarch protested that his officers could find no citizens who had attempted such a raid. Baffled, we went on our way.
I looked over the rail towards the frowning castles of Algiers in huge disgust. Yet I was curious to see the town in which Alexander had been enslaved, and Captain Bainbridge, knowing of my relationship to one of the released Americans, provided a way that I might enter the palace as one of his attendants when he went with Consul O'Brien to pay his supposed respects to the Dey.
By listening to the English renegade who acted as interpreter between our officers and the ruler, I gathered that the Dey was in trouble with his overlord, the Sultan of Turkey, because he had made peace with France while Turkey, then allied with England, was making war on the French forces in Egypt.
To appease the wrath of the Sultan, the Dey had decided to send to that monarch at Constantinople an ambassador bearing valuable gifts. With amazing cheek,he now asked Consul O'Brien to lend him the frigateGeorge Washingtonfor the purpose of bearing the envoy and his train. Captain Bainbridge blushed. "It is impossible for an American naval officer to carry out such a mission," I heard him cry.
"Your ship is anchored under my batteries. My gunner will sink her if you refuse!" the Dey said with a scowl.
"That is no work for an American ship," Captain Bainbridge said.
"Aren't Americans my slaves? Don't they pay tribute to me?" the Dey demanded. "I now command you to carry my embassy!"
I felt like rushing forward and choking the creature, and I saw from Captain Bainbridge's look that it was all that he could do to restrain himself from drawing his sword and plunging it into the fat stomach of the beast.
Consul O'Brien came forth with soothing words. He advised Bainbridge to obey the ruler, and Bainbridge, because of the superior authority of the consul, was forced to consent.
"Shade of Washington!" he exclaimed, when he returned aboard ship, "behold thy sword hung on a slave to serve a pirate! I never thought to find a corner of this world where an American would stoop to baseness. History shall tell how the United States first volunteered aship of war, equipped, as acarrierfor a pirate. It is written. Nothing but blood can blot the impression out."
We heard that he wrote thus to the Navy Department:
"I hope I may never again be sent to Algiers with tribute, unless I be authorized to deliver it from the mouth of the cannon."
"I hope I may never again be sent to Algiers with tribute, unless I be authorized to deliver it from the mouth of the cannon."
When the ambassador to Constantinople came on board, his suite and following were enough to make angels laugh. There were one hundred Moslems attending him. Many of the officers brought their wives and children. In addition there were four horses, twenty-five horned cattle, four lions, four tigers, four antelopes, and twelve parrots. The money and regalia loaded as presents for the Sultan were valued at a million dollars.
When our frigate reached the two forts that commanded the entrance to Constantinople, Captain Bainbridge decided that he would save the time that would be spent in entering the port in the usual formal way. We approached the anchorage as if we meant to come to a stop. We clewed up our courses, let go the topsails, and seemed to be complying with the rules of the port. Then our commander ordered that a salute be fired, but, when the guns of the fort replied, he ordered sail to be made under cover of the smoke. By this trick, we passed by the guns under the smoke screen, and were inside the harbor and beyond range before the Turks realized it.
An officer rowed out to ask to what country our ship belonged.
"The United States," answered our commander.
The officer returned to shore. A half-hour later he again rowed out to inform Captain Bainbridge that the Sultan had never heard of the United States, and desired to know more about it. Our captain replied that he came from the new world discovered by Columbus. Again the officer went ashore and returned, bringing this time a lamb and a bunch of flowers, as tokens of peace and welcome.
The admiral of the Turkish fleet, Capudan Pasha, took theGeorge Washingtonunder his protection. The Sultan gave Captain Bainbridge a certificate which entitled him to special protection in any part of the Turkish empire.
With the ambassadors from the Dey of Algiers matters went very differently. When the messenger was received on board Capudan Pasha's ship, the admiral snatched from the envoy's hand the Dey's letter, and then, in a great rage, spat and stamped upon it. He was then told to inform his master that the admiral meant to spit and trample upon him when the two met. The Sultan was equally harsh. He told the ambassador that he would force the Dey to declare war against France within sixty days, and threatened to punish the ruler if he did not send to him an immense sum of money. The presents of tigers and other animals were viewed by him with supreme contempt.
The sight of the American flag, flown for the first time in this section of the world, created a sensation.
It was said that, seeing the stars in the American flag, the Sultan decided that since there was represented on his flag one of the heavenly bodies, his country and ours must have the same religion. The foreign consuls at Constantinople welcomed Captain Bainbridge and he in turn entertained them. At one dinner he had on the table food and drink from all quarters of the globe, representing places at which he had stopped—Europe, Asia, Africa, and America, and men from each of these countries sat at his table.
We returned to Algiers with a disgruntled ambassador. The Sultan, while he treated our commander with great courtesy, found fault with the Dey of Algiers' gifts andthreatened to punish both him and his envoy if more valuable presents were not forthcoming. All of which delighted us hugely.
When we drew near to Algiers on our return passage, we wondered what further indignities would be offered. Captain Bainbridge, having learned of the Sultan's message to the Dey, knew that a ship would be required to take a second Algerine mission to Constantinople. Fearing that the Dey might try to use theGeorge Washingtonagain for this purpose, and suspecting too that to obtain the money the Sultan demanded the Algerine prince might attempt to enslave the crew of theGeorge Washingtonand hold them for ransom, Captain Bainbridge decided that he would anchor his ship out of range of the Dey's guns. Threats and persuasion were used by the Orientals to induce us to come into the harbor, but Captain Bainbridge squared his jaw and kept the ship where we had first anchored.
Consul O'Brien now rowed out and told our commander that the Dey wanted to have a talk with him. The captain, armed with his certificate of protection from the Sultan, went ashore. The Dey, maddened over the result of his intercourse with the Sultan, and further enraged at Captain Bainbridge's cleverness in avoiding his snares, threatened him with torture and slavery, and seemed about to call upon his armed janizaries to seize the officer. At this moment Captain Bainbridge produced the certificate. The tyrant, seeing his master's signature upon a document that expressed good will to the American, fawned and apologized.
"And now to thee, O Captain,Most earnestly I pray,That they may never bury meIn church or cloister gray;But on the windy sea-beach,At the ending of the land,All on the surfy sea-beach,Deep down into the sand.For there will come the sailors,Their voices I shall hear,And at casting of the anchorThe yo-ho loud and clear;And at hauling of the anchorThe yo-ho and the cheer,—Farewell, my love, for to the bayI never more may steer."—W. Allingham.
"And now to thee, O Captain,Most earnestly I pray,That they may never bury meIn church or cloister gray;But on the windy sea-beach,At the ending of the land,All on the surfy sea-beach,Deep down into the sand.For there will come the sailors,Their voices I shall hear,And at casting of the anchorThe yo-ho loud and clear;And at hauling of the anchorThe yo-ho and the cheer,—Farewell, my love, for to the bayI never more may steer."—W. Allingham.
"And now to thee, O Captain,Most earnestly I pray,That they may never bury meIn church or cloister gray;But on the windy sea-beach,At the ending of the land,All on the surfy sea-beach,Deep down into the sand.
"And now to thee, O Captain,
Most earnestly I pray,
That they may never bury me
In church or cloister gray;
But on the windy sea-beach,
At the ending of the land,
All on the surfy sea-beach,
Deep down into the sand.
For there will come the sailors,Their voices I shall hear,And at casting of the anchorThe yo-ho loud and clear;And at hauling of the anchorThe yo-ho and the cheer,—Farewell, my love, for to the bayI never more may steer."—W. Allingham.
For there will come the sailors,
Their voices I shall hear,
And at casting of the anchor
The yo-ho loud and clear;
And at hauling of the anchor
The yo-ho and the cheer,—
Farewell, my love, for to the bay
I never more may steer."
—W. Allingham.
"I hear it reported," Samuel Childs remarked one night on watch, "that Captain Edward Preble is coming out in command of theConstitution. Looks like he'll have charge of the Mediterranean fleet. A hard man. A hot temper. He's as rough as the New Hampshire rocks where he was born. I doubt whether I'd want to serve under him!"
"The harder they come, the better I like them," said Reuben James. "A hard man means a hard fighter. I understand Stephen Decatur's coming out too. There'san officer for you! Hope I have a chance to serve under both!"
Samuel Child's idea of Captain Preble's disposition was held aboard all of our ships. Yet Preble changed this adverse comment to enthusiastic admiration. It happened in this way:
As his frigate was passing at night through the Straits of Gibraltar he met a strange ship and hailed her. The vessel made no reply, but manoeuvred to get into an advantageous position for firing.
"I hail you for the last time!" Preble shouted. "If you don't answer, I'll fire a shot into you."
"If you do, I'll return a broadside!" came from the strange ship.
"I should like to catch you at that! I now hail for an answer. What ship is that?" Captain Preble cried.
"His Britannic Majesty's eighty-four gun ship-of-the-lineDonegal! Sir Richard Strachan. Send a boat on board!"
Preble shouted back:
"This is the United States' forty-four gun shipConstitution, Captain Edward Preble, and I'll be d—d if I send a boat on board any ship! Blow your matches, boys!"
No broadside was fired. Captain Preble now shouted to the officer that he doubted the truth of his statement and would stay alongside until the morning revealed the identity of the stranger. A boat now approached, bearing a message from the strange ship's commander. He explained that she was the thirty-two gun British frigateMaidstone, and that, taken by surprise, he had resorted to strategy in order to get his men to their stations before theConstitutionfired.
Samuel Childs had his chance to serve under this terrible Captain Preble, and so, for that matter, had all of us. My first meeting with the captain was far from being one that promised comfort. To explain why, I had better note here that the clothing supplies of theGeorge Washingtonhad been depleted, consequently there were several pieces of my dress that were not in accord with the regulation uniform. Captain Preble's gaze chanced to rest on me. Then, with an outburst that nearly frightened me out of my wits, he asked me how I dare present myself before him in such attire.
"If I catch you out of uniform again," he said, "out of the service you'll go!"
I darted out of his sight, resolving to alter my dress at once, but a lieutenant hailed me and gave me a message to deliver to theConstellation. He then ordered the coxswain to man the running boat. Off we rowed. TheConstellationlay with her bow towards us. Instead of waiting for the Jacob's ladder to be thrown to me, I stood in the bow of the running boat waiting for it to be lifted to the crest of a sea. The next roller lifted our cockle shell high in the air, approaching the level of the ship's deck. I took advantage of this rise and vaulted from our boat. We were in a rough sea, and, instead of landing on the bulwark, as I had aimed to do, I was hurled by the next roller head-first across the vessel's side. With the velocity of a butting goat, my head rammed a group of three officers who had chosen that particular spot for a chat. Two of them were tossed left and right; the third one was floored. I arose with abject apologies. Who should I see squirming and cursing before me but Captain Preble? I felt my blood turn to ice.
To my terrified imagination a flogging seemed to be the least punishment I could expect. Not only had I knocked him down, but here was I appearing before him in the clothes he had ordered changed. The other officers, crimson and purple with wrath, helped the Captain to his feet. It appeared that while I had been waiting for the letter, he had gone forth in his gig to inspect the very ship I was bound for.
"Ha!" he exclaimed when he had recovered his breath, "the same lad! The same uniform!"
Then suddenly he looked at his frowning companions and burst into laughter. "Why," he exclaimed, "just when we were talking about our enemy's guns, he came over the side like a cannon ball! I thought the gunners of Tripoli were bombarding us!"
When the laughter ended I had a chance to deliver the letter and to explain that the lieutenant had pressed me into service before I had an opportunity to change my garb.
He nodded. "The irregularity of your clothes we will overlook just now," he said, "but your irregular way of coming aboard, and the headlong way in which you approach your superiors, and intrude upon their conferences, is a matter that warrants your being turned over to the master-at-arms. However, you scamp, we'll forgive all of your offences for the laugh you have given us! I hope if I ever call on you to board an enemy's ship you'll go over her side with the same speed!"
The crew was divided into three sets. The men in the first set were called topmen; their duty was to climb the masts and to take in or furl, reef or let out the sails. This group of topmen were in turn subdivided, accordingto the masts of the ship. Thus we had fore-topmen, main-topmen and mizzen-topmen.
The second set of men attended to the sails from the deck. It was their task to handle the lowest sails, and to set and take in the jibs, lower studding sails and spanker; they also coiled the ropes of the running gear. These men too were grouped according to masts.
The third set of men were called scavengers. These did the dirty work of the ship, gathering the refuse from all quarters of the vessel and casting it overboard.
I, on account of my youth, was assigned to none of these sets, but to the boys' division. There were a dozen of us lads on board, and a merry set of scamps we were. We were assigned to serve the officers, and because of this we managed to overhear and pass to each other a good deal of information concerning the operations of the ship that was not intended for us to know. Some of us became favorites with the officers we served, and when we got into mischief and were threatened with punishment, our officers often shielded us.
In addition to the sailors and boys, the ship had over a score of marines on her muster roll. They were the policemen of the ship. In battle their place was in the rigging, where they picked off the enemy crew with their muskets. The marines filled a peculiar position, in that they were called upon to uphold the authority of the officers, and therefore could not be on intimate terms with the sailors—in fact, the officers discouraged familiarity between the soldiers and sailors.
As for food, we were the envy of our British cousins. Our menu was: Sunday, a pound and a half of beef and half a pint of rice; Monday, a pound of pork, half a pint of peas and four ounces of cheese; Tuesday, a poundand a half of beef, and a pound of potatoes; Wednesday, half a pint of rice, two ounces of butter, and six ounces of molasses; Thursday, a pound of pork and half a pint of peas; Friday, a pound of potatoes, a pound of salt fish, and two ounces of butter or one gill of oil; Saturday, a pound of pork, half a pint of peas, and four ounces of cheese. In addition, one pound of bread and half a pint of spirits, or one quart of beer, were served every day.
Sundays were usually holidays. After muster on the spar deck, we would have church service, and then the rest of the day was ours to spend as we pleased. We wore our best uniforms, but we could never tell from one Sunday to another just what kind of dress we were to appear in. The captain had a way of ordering us to wear one day blue jackets and white trousers, and on the next Sunday to change to blue jackets and blue trousers. When he wanted us to look particularly smart he would command that we wear in addition our scarlet vests. When, on top of all this, we donned our shiny black hats, we felt fine indeed.
In fair weather we slept in hammocks, swung on the berth deck. We were trained to roll up and stow our hammocks swiftly, so that when a call to action sounded, our beds disappeared from sight in the bulwark nettings as if by magic. These hammocks, in battle, were placed against the bulwarks as shields to prevent splinters from hitting us when the vessel was hit.
Our ship kept a merit roll, upon which were entered the names of every member of the crew. If a man did his work well, he was given a good standing on this roll; the sheet, on the other hand, also showed who were the lazy and inefficient members of the crew. The systemof handling men was modeled after that of the older navies, where each man of the ship's company was assigned a certain duty.
When a sailor died, we sewed up our mate's body in his hammock and placed it on a grating in a bow port. Then an officer read the burial service. At the words, "We commit the body of our brother to the deep," we raised the grating and allowed the body to drop into the sea. There would be a heavy splash—then a deep silence rested on both the water and the ship for several minutes.
Our greatest enjoyment came from our band, which we had formed out of members of the crew who had more or less talent for music. I wondered afterwards how our efforts would have sounded in competition with a professional band of musicians that in later years played aboard one of our sister ships. These musicians had found their way into the American navy in a strange manner. They had enlisted on board a French warship under the condition that they would not be called on to fight, but were to be stowed away in the cable tier until "the clouds blew over." It was also stipulated that they were not to be flogged—a custom of which many captains were far too fond. The French ship upon which they played was captured by a Portuguese cruiser. They were permitted by the Portuguese to enlist in a British vessel, and when the latter was captured by an American frigate, the band was enrolled in our navy.
In sailing from a cold to a warm climate, we were unknowingly weakening our rigging, which had been fitted in cold weather. The masts were subject to expansion and contraction by heat and cold, and so wasour cordage. When we entered the Mediterranean our shrouds and stays slackened under the hot sun. The ship was in this condition when we were caught in a heavy gale. The ocean had grown rough. We were at dinner when a tremendous wave broke over our bow. It poured down the open hatchway, swept from the galley all the food that was on the table, washed our table clean of eatables, and poured through all of the apartments on the berth deck in a terrifying flood. The huge waves beating upon our ship from the outside, the tossing of the vessel, and the sloshing water we had shipped racked the vessel so that it seemed that it must founder. We were a white-faced group, for Davy Jones' locker seemed to be yawning for us below, but we kept our upper lips stiff and sprang nimbly to obey orders. The officers commanded the crew to man the chain pumps and cut holes in the berth deck to permit the water to pour into the hold, and in this way we emerged from our dangerous situation.
Another peril, however, beset us on deck. One of our lieutenants, watching the rigging, discovered that it had become so slack that the masts and bowsprit were in danger of being carried away. He summoned all available hands to help tighten the ropes. We managed at last to secure purchases on every other shroud, and to sway them all together, which restored the firmness.
One night we had shown to us what a terrifying experience it is to have a fire break out aboard ship. As we were climbing into our hammocks a shower of sparks flew up from a corner of the cockpit.
The captain ordered the drum to beat to quarters, and soon the crew was assembled under good control. Fire buckets filled with water were standing on thequarterdeck. We ran for them and poured them over the flames. All hands emptied buckets on the flames until the fire had been quenched.
If the fire had occurred a few hours later, when we were asleep, it might have gathered enough headway to sweep the ship. We learned later that a lighted candle had fallen from a beam on the deck below and had set fire to some cloths. The steward had tried to smother the fire with sheets, but all the cloths had then caught fire. We did not fully realize our danger until it was pointed out to us that the room in which the fire had started was next to the powder magazine, and that the bulkhead between the two compartments had been scorched.
When decks were cleared for action, you may well believe that my heart was in my mouth. The ship's company was running here and there as busy as ants—and apparently as confused. The boatswain and his mates saw to the rigging and sails. The carpenter and his crew prepared shot-plugs and mauls and strove to protect the pumps against injury; the lieutenants went from deck to deck, supervising the work. The boys who were the powder monkeys rushed up and down at their tasks of providing the first rounds for the guns; pistols and cutlasses were distributed. Rammers, sponges, powderhorns, matches and train tackles were placed beside every cannon. The hatches were closed, so that no man might desert his post and hide below. The gun lashings were cast adrift. The marines were drawn up in rank and file. These occupations, fortunately, left us little time to think of home and loved ones, and by the time the decks were cleared, why, the cannon were thundering and the missiles were striking about us.
Bathing and boat racing were popular sports with us; yet, in the case of the first pastime, we had to be very careful on account of blue sharks.
It was a matter for wonderment with us that, while the blue shark has been known time and again to attack white men, he seldom bothered a colored person. We had sailors aboard who had sailed in Oriental waters, where there are thousands of sharks. These men agreed in their story that the natives could swim and dive without fear of them, but if a white man ventured to bathe in the same place the sharks would be after him in a short time. We learned from these yarn-spinners that the pearl-divers of Ceylon stay down under water for several minutes at a time while they gather into bags the shells that contain pearls, and yet are seldom attacked by sharks. This may have been, though, because while they were under water their comrades above shouted and sang to scare the sharks away. Sometimes natives whose skins were of a light color would dye their bodies black, while other divers would carry in their girdles spikes made of ironwood, which they used to poke out the eyes of sharks that came near.
These stories about sharks were enough to make us enter the water warily, and to borrow the custom of the pearl divers in making a loud noise when we bathed. An experience was awaiting us, however, that brought our danger home to us more than all the warnings that could be uttered.
Jim Hodges, perhaps the most expert swimmer among us, was fond of boasting that he could outswim a shark. One day, when there was a calm sea, he started to swim from the side of our vessel to another frigate that was anchored close by. We who were on duty watched, overthe ship's side, his progress. Suddenly a gray fin showed above the turquoise water, about one hundred yards from him, but moving rapidly in his direction. We shouted and pointed in the direction of his danger. He heard us, realized his peril, and turned instantly towards our ship. The shark at once changed its direction so that the swimmer and the fish seemed to be following two sides of a triangle that would meet at the apex—this point being the bow of our vessel. We watched in breathless suspense while Hodges moved towards us, swimming with amazing coolness and nerve. The shark gained steadily. We had lowered a rope at the point nearest to the swimmer, and we could see him measuring the distance with an anxious look. Those of us who managed to obtain firearms began to shoot at the shark, but at last it had drawn so near to the swimmer that there was danger of hitting him with our bullets. We ceased firing and waited. At last Hodges, with a desperate spurt, reached the rope. As soon as we felt his tug at it we began hauling him in. If he had seized the rope a second later, it would have been too late. The teeth of the shark flashed in the swirl at the end of the rope. If Hodges had not lifted his feet into the air, one of them would have been snapped off.
At Malta, whom should I bump into but commodore Barney! His business in France having been completed, he had taken the notion to see southern Europe before returning to the United States.
He was amazed to see me in the uniform of the United States, yet proud, too, that I had taken matters into my own hands and gone to sea willy-nilly. He told me that the rector had been sent back to his Baltimore charge by his bishop, and that Alexander had begun business in Baltimore as a ship chandler. My story of Murad's treachery brought forth a series of explosions, which, however, were cut short by the arrival of the commodore's friend Captain William Eaton, a military officer from the United States, who had stopped in Malta on his way to take the office of American envoy at the court of Tunis.
The conversation turned towards Captain Eaton's mission to Tunis. "I understand that I have an abominable ruler to deal with," he said, "I shall be doing well if I do nothing more than keep Yankee ships and sailors out of his hands!"
"I wish I were going with you, sir," I said impulsively.
"Can you write? Are you handy at clerical work?" he asked.
"Is he?" burst out the commodore, "why, the boy wasbrought up to be a minister. When I knew him a quill or a book was never out of his hands!"
"I have authority from Washington to employ a secretary," said the captain. "The lad can accompany me in that office."
Delighted, I turned away to make the necessary arrangements. "If you haven't the knack of fighting as well as of writing, I advise you to decline the position," Captain Eaton called after me, "for I expect to battle with the Bey of Tunis from the hour I arrive!"
"That," I returned, "is the reason I said I'd like to go along! You look like a fighter, sir!"
Captain Eaton was pleased instead of offended at my boldness. The story of his career, as I heard it later from the commodore, proved that the captain was a fighter in deeds as well as in looks. He had a broad forehead, with deep-set eyes and heavy eyebrows. His nose was that of a fighter, and if ever a chin expressed determination, his did.