I was straining like a leashed hound to board a ship and fight for my brother's freedom, but no way was open to secure the release of the captives except by diplomacy. As a vent for my feelings in those first weeks of hot rage, I plunged into a study of the history of the Barbary pirates. Every outrage done by them was the occasion for an outburst of vain anger on my part. But was it, after all, vain? Later I had my wish and shared in a campaign to free three hundred American prisoners from captivity in Tripoli.

Meanwhile, we lost no time in sending to Alexander as comforting an answer as we could compose. He had asked that we send his mail to the care of the English consul who, he wrote, had obtained the consent of the Dey to send and receive letters for the American captives.

Dr. Eccleston assured Alexander that Mr. Samuel Smith, Maryland's representative in Congress, had taken an interest in the case and would urge Congress to procure his speedy release. It was easy to predict a swift release—but hard, we soon found, to obtain one. I have heard men joke about the law's delays, but the delays of diplomats are longer yet. Alexander's captivity was to endure for years!

Fortunately for me in my pursuit of knowledge concerning these buccaneers, I could talk to the rector who had years before traveled through Mohammedan countries. He poured out to me freely his recollections of the miserable nations that occupied the African coast of the Mediterranean.

In books concerning these pirates his library was not lacking. He was a great bookworm—some of his people whispered that he would trade the soul of one of his flock for a rare book. He made friends with skippers, it was said, mainly to have them bring him the latest books from abroad. By trading with sailors, schoolmasters and preachers, he had acquired many volumes, among which were many books on travel and exploration.

Wrecking and piracy had been followed by the inhabitants of the communities bordering on the Mediterranean since the time of Odysseus. The rector read to me from Thucydides how Minos of Greece used his fleet to "put down piracy as far as he was able, in order that his revenues might come in." From Homer he read the passage, "Do you wander for trade or at random like pirates over the sea?"

WRECKING AND PIRACY HAD BEEN FOLLOWED BY THE COMMUNITIES
BORDERING ON THE MEDITERRANEAN SINCE THE EARLIEST DAYS.

In the first half of the last century before Christ, I learned, Cicilia and Crete were the chief buccaneering nations on the Mediterranean. Rome had ruined all of her rivals, and therefore made no effort to guard the seas from corsairs. Refugees from all nations joined the pirate fleets of Cicilia and Crete. The small communities surrounding these pirate states were forced to become allies of the pirate rulers. In addition to seizing ships and goods, the buccaneers became slavers, attacking small towns and carrying away men, women and girls. The island of Delos became a clearing-house for this traffic, and in one day ten thousand slaves were sold. It was said that while the harbor of Delos was supposed to offer mariners protection from pirates, the crew of a ship that anchored alongside a merchant vessel might be the kind that made merry with the merchantman's crew on shore, and, after learning of her cargo and destination, might follow her out of the harbor to cut the throats of her crew on the high seas.

Along the southern coast of the Mediterranean, in that part which is now called Barbary or Northern Africa, where Morocco, Algeria, Tunis and Tripoli lie, the galleys of Phoenician traders roved in these early times, exploring the rivers.

Following these traders came Carthaginian warriors who founded colonies upon this coast. Among these communities was the famous city of Carthage, that in time brought forth the mighty leader Hannibal.

Then came the Romans, who conquered the Carthaginians and turned their cities to ruins. Thus the entire territory became Roman African colonies.

Over six centuries after the birth of Christ, the Saracens began to invade this region. Their wars continued until by the eighth century all Roman authority was swept away, and Mohammedan rule was established throughout the country.

"RED-BEARD"

Born of my reading and thinking about Mediterranean pirates, through my dreams went a pageant of cruel corsairs and pitiable captives. There was the corsair chief Uruj Barbarossa, who, hearing on his native island of Lesbos of the rich galleons that passed through the Mediterranean, entered the Sea in 1504 with a fleet of robber galleys and made an alliance with the ruler of Tunis whereby that port became the center for his thieving. This Barbarossa, or Red-Beard, was a pirate of the heroic order. On one of his first voyages out of Tunis he fell in with two galleys belonging to Pope Julius II, bearing rich merchandise from Genoa. These galleys were far bigger than his two galleots, yet Red-Beard attacked so fiercely that he overcame the foremost galley. As the second galley came up without having seen the outcome of the battle, he arrayed his sailors in the clothes of the Christian captives and, taking the second galley by surprise, captured her too. His victories made Europe tremble. Emperor Charles V of Spain in 1516 sent ten thousand veterans to Barbary to end Red-Beard's career. Barbarossa's army of fifteen hundred men was surprised by the Spaniards in crossing a river. Having crossed, he turned back on hearing the cries of his men and died fighting gallantly in their midst.

Next through my fancy passed Kheyr-ed-din, Red-Beard's brother. Having slain Red-Beard, the Spaniards could have driven the corsairs out of Africa, but instead of waging further war, the army returned to Spain. Kheyr-ed-din then assumed command of the sea rovers, and with a fleet of one hundred and fifty galleys and brigantines engaged an Allied Christian fleet of one hundred and forty-six galleons under Admiral Andrea Doria. The battle amounted only to a skirmish, for Andrea Doria, although his vessels were manned by sixty thousand men—forces far greater than that of the infidels—retired when the Moslems had captured seven of his galleys.

GALLANT DON JOHN

Next in the pageant passed the great corsairs of the battle of Lepanto, where the Turks, then at the height of their glory, suffered a crushing defeat at the hands of the brilliant young emperor, Don John of Austria.

The Moslems, before this historic date of October 7, 1571, were threatening to overwhelm Europe. They desired to make the rich island of Cyprus one of their stepping-stones to the mainland. Venice, who owned the island, resisted the claims of the infidels. The Moslems thereupon threatened to conquer Venice herself. That city's fleet was too small to cope with the great navy of the Turks. Philip II of Spain, appealed to by Pope Pius V, went to her aid. The Holy League to protect Christendom against the infidels was formed.

Don John of Austria, brother of Philip, was chosen to lead the Christian fleet. He was tall and handsome, and, although only twenty-four, had distinguished himself in wars against the Moors. He went to join his navy in a dress of white velvet and cloth of gold. A crimson scarf floated from his breast. Snow-white plumes adorned his cap. He looked every inch a hero, and every inch a hero he proved himself to be.

He found himself at the head of the greatest Christian fleet that had ever assembled to fight the corsairs. Three hundred vessels and eighty thousand men sailed forth under his command. The men were incited to battle by news of the almost unbelievable cruelties the Moslems had inflicted upon the Venetian garrison of a city in Cyprus which they had captured. The captain of the Venetian troops, Bragadino, had had his ears and nose cut off. He was next led around before the Turkish batteries, crawling on hands and knees, laden with two baskets of earth. Whenever he passed the quarters of the Turkish general, he was forced to kiss the ground. Next, with Mustapha, the Moslem general, looking on, he was flayed alive, and his skin, stuffed with straw, was then paraded through the town.

Resolved to end forever such atrocities, the Christian fleet sought that of Ali Pasha, the Turkish admiral. Three hundred galleys, with one hundred and twenty thousand men, composed the Moslem fleet. They came on with their decks covered with flags and streamers, while, hid by this glory of banners, the galley slaves, chained to the oars, toiled beneath the lash. The two fleets met near the Gulf of Lepanto. Don John's lookout, from his perch on the main-top, discovered a white sail. Behind it came sail after sail, until the full strength of the Turkish navy was in sight.

Don John ran up his signal for battle—a white flag—and went in his gig from galley to galley, encouraging his men.

"Ready, Sir, and the sooner the better!" they replied to his question as to their preparedness.

As a last act before battle, Don John unfurled a standard containing the figure of the Saviour, fell on his knees and prayed for God's blessing on his cause, then formed his line of battle. The fire from the huge floating castles that belonged to his fleet created a panic among the Turks and broke their line. The ships of both sides came together in a confused mass, so that their decks, almost joined together, formed a huge platform upon which the Christians and Turks battled.

Ali Pasha, the Moslem admiral, came alongside of Don John's ship and was on the point of boarding it when the galley of the Spanish captain Colonna rammed his vessel, while its crew poured a destroying fire across the Turkish galley's deck. Ali Pasha was slain. The Ottoman emblem fluttered down from the mast of the flagship, and the Christian ensign rose in its place. Heartened by this victory, the other Christian galleys triumphed over their foes. Such Turkish ships as were able to escape fled, pursued by the Christians. The Moslems lost over two hundred ships. Twenty thousand of their men perished. The Christian fleet lost over seven thousand men. Twelve thousand Christian slaves were set free from the Turkish galleys.

The Pope who had urged that the Christian fleet be assembled cried in thanksgiving: "There was a man sent from God, whose name was John."

CERVANTES—WARRIOR AND AUTHOR

Following these great corsairs came cruel, mean-spirited buccaneers, whom I was glad to dismiss and replace in my imaginings with that noble captive of the Turkish pirates, Miguel Cervantes, who, after his release was to write the immortal book, "Don Quixote."

In 1575 Cervantes set sail from Naples for the coast of Spain in the vessel El Sol. His brother, Rodrigo, went with him. They were returning to Spain, their native land, after serving as soldiers of fortune abroad. Cervantes was the son of an impoverished nobleman of Castile. He had commanded a company of soldiers on board the Marquesa at the Battle of Lepanto. In this battle he lost his left arm. He bore with him a letter of testimonial from Don John, stating that he was as valiant as he was unlucky, and recommending him to Philip II of Spain.

His ship was almost in sight of the desired haven. The coast of Barbary which lay on the shore of the Mediterranean opposite from Spain was feared by the Spaniards because it was infested with pirates, but it seemed that on this occasion they were to escape attack.

Suddenly, however, three corsair galleys, commanded by Arnaut Memi, pushed out from the Algerine shore. The El Sol's captain tried his utmost to escape, but was overtaken. A desperate engagement followed, in which Cervantes fought with valor, but the pirates were in overwhelming numbers and the master of the El Sol was at last forced to strike his colors.

Deli Memi, a renegade Greek, took Cervantes as his captive. Finding upon his person the letters of recommendation from Don John to the King of Spain, the pirate thought that a rich and powerful person had become his prisoner and so set a high ransom price upon him. To make Cervantes the more anxious to be delivered from captivity, Deli Memi loaded him with chains and treated him with continued cruelty.

As a matter of fact, Cervantes was poor both in money and the means of borrowing it. His father, in the second year of his sons' captivity, managed to raise enough funds to secure the release of one of them, but Deli Memi, thinking Miguel of more importance than his brother, kept the future author and set free Rodrigo. Upon this, Cervantes planned to escape. In a cavern six miles from Algiers a number of fugitive slaves were hiding. Rodrigo promised to send a Spanish ship to take away these refugees. The captive Cervantes was to join them. The ship arrived but some Algerine fisherman gave the alarm and the vessel was obliged to put out to sea without the fugitives.

The Dey of Algiers, learning of the hiding place from a treacherous comrade of Cervantes, sent soldiers to seize the escaped slaves. He was a murderous ruler. Cervantes later in "Don Quixote" gave the Dey eternal infamy by thus painting one of the characters in his colors:

"Every day he hanged a slave; impaled one; cut off the ears of another; and this upon so little animus, or so entirely without cause, that the Turks would own he did it merely for the sake of doing it and because it was his nature."

Cervantes took the blame for the entire project on himself. Threatened with torture and death, he held to his story. The ruler, amazed at his boldness, departed from his usual custom and purchased Cervantes from Deli Memi for five hundred crowns.

Again and again the Spaniard tried to escape, always at the risk of being punished with death. At last, when his master was called to Constantinople, and was taking Cervantes with him in chains, a priest obtained his ransom for one hundred pounds, English money, and Cervantes was free to go home and enter upon the literary career that brought forth "Don Quixote."

The nations of Europe by persistent effort could have wiped out piracy along the entire Barbary coast, but instead they continued to allow their shipping to be preyed upon, paid ransoms meekly, and sent bribes in the form of presents to the greedy and insolent rulers. France incited the pirates to prey upon the shipping of Spain; Great Britain and Holland urged the corsairs to destroy the sea commerce of France—each great power sought the pirates as an aid to bar their rivals from the trade of the Mediterranean.

The consuls sent from Europe to these provinces were often seized as hostages by the pashas, deys and beys to whom they toadied, and if the fleets of their countries in a spasm of rage at some fresh indignity attacked the Barbary ports, the consuls were tortured. For instance, when the French shelled Algiers in 1683, the Vicar Apostolic Jean de Vacher, acting as consul, was blown to pieces from a cannon's mouth.

DAUNTLESS MASTER NICHOLS

While we who were interested in the captives lamented that the nations of the world, our country included, were so slow to wipe out these pirates, my thoughts ran back to the story of an adventure that had been passed on to me through some family chronicles, of one of our ancestors who fought against this same race of corsairs. This Forsyth was an English sailor. He shipped in the Dolphin, of London, along with thirty-six men and two boys, under Master Nichols, a skilful and experienced skipper.

While in sight of the island of Sardinia, in the Mediterranean Sea they caught sight of a sail making towards them from the shore. Master Nichols sent my forbear into the maintop, where he sighted five ships following the one that had already been discovered. By their appearance they were taken to be Turkish corsairs.

The Dolphin was armed with nineteen guns and nine carronades, the latter pieces being used to fire bullets for the purpose of sweeping the decks when the ship was boarded by enemies. These guns were made ready to resist an attack, the men were armed with muskets, pistols and cutlasses, and the assault was awaited with courage. Master Nichols, upon the poop, waved his sword as confidently as if the battle was already won. His example did much to hearten the crew for the ordeal confronting them.

When the foremost ship came within range, Master Nichols ordered his trumpeter to sound and his gunner to aim and fire. The leading ship, which had gotten the wind of the Dolphin, returned the fire as fiercely. This ship, which was under the command of a renegade Englishman named Walshingham who acted as admiral of the Moslem fleet, came alongside of the Dolphin. She had twice as many pieces of ordnance as the Dolphin, and had two hundred and fifty men to match against the forty men on the English ship's decks. These boarded the Dolphin on the larboard quarter, and came towards the poop with pikes and hatchets upraised to slaughter.

However, the Dolphin's crew had a carronade in the captain's cabin, or round house, and with bullets from this they drove the infidels back, while their own gunners continued to pour shot into the corsair. At last the Turkish ship was shot through and through and was in danger of sinking. Walshingham therefore withdrew his men from the Dolphin's deck and sailed his ship ahead of the English vessel, receiving a final broadside as he passed.

Following Walshingham's ship, two other large Turkish vessels came to attack, one on the starboard quarter, and the other on the port. Each of them had twenty-five cannon and about two hundred and fifty men. With scimiters, hatchets, pikes and other weapons, they poured on to the Dolphin's deck where the others had left off. One of the most daring of the Turks climbed into the maintop of the Dolphin to haul down the flag, but the steward of the ship, espying him, took aim with his musket. The Turk dropped dead into the sea, and the flag still floated.

These boarders were repelled in the same fashion. The Dolphin's crew fired their small battery with great effect into both ships. They too, torn and battered, passed on at last to mend their leaks.

After them came two more ships as well-armed and as well-manned as those that had passed out of the fight. The gunners of the Dolphin disposed of one of these quickly, and she hurried to get out of range. The crew of the other one, however, approaching on the starboard side, boarded the Dolphin where the earlier assailants had entered, and swarmed up the deck crying in the Turkish tongue: "Yield yourselves! Yield yourselves!" Their leaders also promised that the lives of the Englishmen would be spared, and their ship and goods delivered back to them.

"Give no ear to them! Die rather than yield!" cried Captain Nichols. His men fought on doggedly, plying their ordnance against the ship; playing upon the boarders with small shot; meeting them in hand-to-hand encounters.

Suddenly smoke poured out from the hatches of the Dolphin. The infidels, fearing that their own ship would catch fire from the burning vessel, retreated from the Dolphin, and permitted their ship to fall far astern of her.

The Dolphin's intrepid crew now set to work to quench the flames and succeeded. A haven was near, into which they put, the enemy ships having gone ashore in other places to save themselves from wreck.

In these three battles, the Dolphin lost only six men and one boy, with eight men and one boy hurt. The Moslems lost scores of men. Master Nichols was wounded twice. The ship arrived safely in the Thames, near London—a plain merchant ship, manned by ordinary sailors, but as meritorious of honor as any ship that fought under Nelson or Drake.

I was glad that the story had been passed down to me. I thought of the two boys in the crew—one killed, the other wounded. I resolved that when my chance came to help rid the seas of these buccaneers I would try to fight as nobly.