History is sometimes called a gallery, where are exhibited scenes, events, and characters of the Past. It may also be called the world's great charnel-house, where are gathered coffins, dead men's bones, and all the uncleanness of years that have fled. Thus is it both an example and a warning to mankind. Walking among its pictures, radiant with the inspiration of virtue and of freedom, we thrill with new impulse to beneficent exertion. Groping amidst unsightly shapes without an epitaph, we may at least derive fresh aversion to all their living representatives.

In this mighty gallery, amidst angelic light, are the benefactors of mankind,—poets who have sung the praise of virtue, historians who have recorded its achievements, and the good of all time, who, by word or deed, have striven for the welfare of others. Here are those scenes where the godlike in man is made manifest in trial and danger. Here also are those grand pictures exhibiting the establishment of free institutions: the signing of Magna Charta, with its priceless privileges, by a reluctant monarch; and the signing of the Declaration of Independence, announcing the inalienable rights of man, by the fathers of our Republic.

On the other hand, in ignominious confusion, far down in this dark, dreary charnel-house, is tumbled all that now remains of the tyrants, the persecutors, the selfish men, under whom mankind have groaned. Here also, in festering, loathsome decay, are monstrous institutions or customs, which the earth, weary of their infamy and wrong, has refused to sustain,—the Helotism of Sparta, the Serfdom of Christian Europe, the Ordeal by Battle, and Algerine Slavery.

From this charnel-house let me draw forth one of these. It may not be without profit to dwell on the origin, history, and character of a custom, which, after being for a long time a by-word and a hissing among the nations, is at last driven from the world. The easy, instinctive, positive reprobation which it will receive from all must necessarily direct our judgment of other institutions, yet tolerated in defiance of justice and humanity. I propose to consider the subject of White Slavery in Algiers, or, perhaps it may be more appropriately called, White Slavery in the Barbary States. As Algiers was its chief seat, it seems to have acquired a current name from that place. Nevertheless I shall proceed to speak of White Slavery, or the Slavery of Christians, throughout the Barbary States.

This subject may fail in interest, but not in novelty. I am not aware of any previous attempt to combine its scattered materials.

TERRITORY OF THE BARBARY STATES.

The territory now known as the Barbary States is memorable in history. Classical inscriptions, broken arches, and ancient tombs—the memorials of various ages—still bear interesting witness to the revolutions it has undergone.[1] Early Greek legend made it the home of terror and of happiness. Here was the retreat of the Gorgon, with snaky tresses, turning all she looked upon into stone; and here also the Garden of the Hesperides, with apples of gold. It was the scene of adventure and mythology. Here Hercules wrestled with AntÆus, and Atlas sustained, with weary shoulders, the overarching sky. At an early day Phoenician fugitives transported the spirit of commerce to its coasts; and Carthage, which these wanderers planted, became mistress of the seas, explorer of distant regions, rival and victim of Rome. Here for a while the energy and subtlety of Jugurtha baffled the Roman power, till at last the whole region, from Egypt to the Pillars of Hercules, underwent the process of "annexation" to the cormorant republic of ancient times. A thriving population and fertile soil rendered it an immense granary. It was filled with ancient cities, one of which was the refuge and the grave of Cato, fleeing from the usurpations of CÆsar. At a later day Christianity was here preached by saintly bishops. The torrent of the Vandals, first wasting Italy, passed this way; and the arms of Belisarius here obtained their most signal triumphs. The Saracens, with the Koran and the sword, declared ministers of conversion, next broke from Arabia, as messengers of a new religion, and, pouring along these shores, diffused the faith and doctrines of Mohammed. Their empire was not confined even by these expansive limits, but, under Musa, entered Spain, and afterwards at Roncesvalles, in "dolorous rout," overthrew the embattled chivalry of the Christian world under Charlemagne.

The Saracenic power did not long retain its unity or importance; and as we discern this territory in the dawn of modern history, when the countries of Europe are appearing in their new nationalities, we recognize five different communities or states, Morocco, Algiers, Tunis, Tripoli, and Barca, the last of little moment and often included in Tripoli, the whole constituting what was then, and is still, called the Barbary States. This name has sometimes been referred to the Berbers, or Berebbers, constituting part of the inhabitants; but I delight to follow the classic authority of Gibbon, who thinks that the term, first applied by Greek pride to all strangers, and finally reserved for those only who were savage or hostile, justly settled, as a local denomination, along the northern coast of Africa.[2] The Barbary States, then, bear their past character in their name.

They occupy an important space on the earth's surface: on the north washed by the Mediterranean Sea, furnishing such opportunities for prompt intercourse with Southern Europe that Cato was able to exhibit in the Roman Senate figs freshly plucked in the gardens of Carthage; bounded on the east by Egypt, on the west by the Atlantic Ocean, and on the south by the vast, mysterious, sandy, flinty waste of Sahara, separating them from Soudan or Negroland. In advantage of position they surpass every other part of Africa,—unless we except Egypt,—communicating easily with the Christian nations, and thus, as it were, touching the very hem and border of civilization.

Climate adds attractions to this region, which is removed from the cold of the north and the burning heat of the tropics, while it is enriched with oranges, citrons, olives, figs, pomegranates, and luxuriant flowers. Its position and character invite a singular and suggestive comparison. It is placed between the twenty-fifth and thirty-seventh degrees of north latitude, occupying nearly the same parallels with the Slave States of our Union. It extends over nearly the same number of degrees of longitude with our Slave States, which seem now, alas! to stretch from the Atlantic Ocean to the Rio Grande. It is supposed to embrace about 700,000 square miles, which cannot be far from the space comprehended by what may be called the Barbary States of America.[3] Nor does the comparison end here. Algiers, for a long time the most obnoxious place in the Barbary States of Africa, the chief seat of Christian slavery, and once branded by an indignant chronicler as "the wall of the barbarian world," is situated near the parallel of 36° 30' north latitude, being the line of what is termed the Missouri Compromise, marking the "wall" of Christian slavery in our country, west of the Mississippi.

Other less important points of likeness occur. They are each washed, to the same extent, by ocean and sea,—with this difference, that the two are thus exposed on directly opposite coasts: the African Barbary being water-bounded on the north and west, and our American Barbary on the south and east. But there are no two spaces on the globe, of equal extent, (and geographical testimony will verify what I am stating,) which present so many distinctive features of resemblance, whether we consider the parallels of latitude on which they lie, the nature of their boundaries, their productions, their climate, or the "peculiar domestic institution" which has sought shelter in both.

I introduce these comparisons that I may bring home to your minds, as nearly as possible, the precise position and character of the territory which was the seat of the evil I am about to describe. It might be worthy of inquiry, why Christian slavery, banished at last from Europe, banished also from that part of this hemisphere which corresponds in latitude to Europe, should have intrenched itself in both hemispheres between the same parallels of latitude, so that Virginia, Carolina, Mississippi, and Texas should be the American complement to Morocco, Algiers, Tripoli, and Tunis. Perhaps common peculiarities of climate, breeding lassitude, indolence, and selfishness, may account for that insensibility to the claims of justice and humanity which have characterized both regions.

ILLUSTRATIONS OF WHITE SLAVERY.

The revolting custom of White Slavery in the Barbary States was for many years the shame of modern civilization. The nations of Europe made constant efforts, continued through successive centuries, to procure its abolition, and also to rescue their subjects from its fearful doom. These may be traced in diversified pages of history, and in authentic memoirs. Literature affords illustrations which must not be neglected. At one period, the French, the Italians, and the Spaniards borrowed the plots of their stories from this source.[4]

The adventures of Robinson Crusoe make our childhood familiar with one of its forms. Among his early trials was his piratical capture by a rover from Sallee, a port of Morocco on the Atlantic Ocean, and reduction to slavery. "At this surprising change of my circumstances," says Crusoe, "from a merchant to a miserable slave, I was perfectly overwhelmed; and now I looked back upon my father's prophetic discourse to me, that I should be miserable and have none to relieve me, which I thought was now so effectually brought to pass that it could not be worse." And Cervantes, in the story of Don Quixote, over which so many generations have shaken with laughter, turns aside from its genial current to give the narrative of a Spanish captive who had escaped from Algiers. The author is supposed to have drawn from his own experience; for during five years and a half he endured the horrors of Algerine slavery, from which he was finally liberated by a ransom of less than seven hundred dollars.[5] This inconsiderable sum of money—scarcely the price of an ordinary African slave in our own Southern States—gave to freedom, to his country, and to mankind the author of Don Quixote.

In Cervantes freedom gained a champion whose efforts entitle him to grateful mention on this threshold of our inquiry. Taught in the school of slavery, he knew how to commiserate the slave. The unhappy condition of his fellow-Christians in chains was ever uppermost in his mind. He lost no opportunity of inciting attempts for their emancipation, and for the overthrow of the "peculiar institution"—pardon the recurring phrase!—under which they groaned. He became in Spain what, in our day and country, is sometimes called an "anti-slavery agitator,"—not by public meetings and addresses, but, according to the genius of the age, mainly through the theatre. Not from the platform, but from the stage, did this liberated slave speak to the world. In a play entitled El Trato de Argel, or Life in Algiers—which, though not composed according to rules of art, found much favor, probably from its subject—he pictured, shortly after his return to Spain, the manifold humiliations, pains, and torments of slavery. This was followed by two other plays in the same spirit,—La Gran Sultana DoÑa Cathalina de Oviedo, and Los BaÑos de Argel, or, The Galleys of Algiers. The last act of the latter closes with the statement, calculated to enlist the sympathies of an audience, that "this play is not drawn from the imagination, but was born far from the regions of fiction, in the very heart of truth." More could not be said of a tale of Slavery in our day. Not content with this appeal through the theatre, Cervantes, with constant zeal, takes up the same theme in the tale of "The Captive" which he introduces into Don Quixote, and also in that of El Amante Liberal, and in some parts of La EspaÑola Inglesa. All these may be regarded not merely as literary labors, but as charitable efforts in behalf of human freedom.

This same cause enlisted a contemporary genius, prolific beyond precedent, called by Cervantes "that great prodigy of Nature," Lope de Vega, who freely borrowed from it in a play entitled Los Cautivos de Argel. At a later day, Calderon, sometimes exalted as the Shakespeare of the Spanish stage, in one of his most remarkable dramas, El Principe Constante, cast a poet's glance at Christian slavery in Morocco. To these works, belonging to what may be called the literature of Anti-Slavery, and shedding upon our subject a grateful light, must be added a curious and learned volume on the Topography and History of Algiers (Topographia e Historia de Argel), by Haedo, a Spanish father of the Catholic Church, published in 1612, and containing also two copious Dialogues,—one on Captivity (de la Captividad), and the other on the Martyrs of Algiers (de los Martyres de Argel). These Dialogues, besides embodying authentic sketches of suffering in Algiers, form a mine of classical and patristic learning on the origin and character of slavery, with arguments and protestations against its iniquity, which may be explored with profit even in our day. In view of this gigantic evil, particularly in Algiers, and in the hope of arousing his countrymen to the generous work of emancipation, the good father exclaims, in words which must thrill the soul so long as a single fetter binds a single slave: "Where is charity? Where is the love of God? Where is the zeal for his glory? Where is desire for his service? Where is human pity, and the compassion of man for man? Certainly, to redeem a captive, to liberate him from wretched slavery, is the highest work of charity, of all that can be done in this world."[6] The reports of the good fathers who visited this land of bondage for the redemption of captives testify likewise. One of these thus speaks from the depths of the heart: "The charity of Jesus Christ obliges us; and I question not but that whosoever had seen those miseries I have been a witness to, and the deplorable condition I left our captives in, would have no less ardent a desire to relieve them."[7]

Not long after the bitter experience of Cervantes, another person, of another country and language, and of a higher character, St. Vincent de Paul, one of the saintly glories of France, encountered the same cruel lot. Happily for the world, he escaped from slavery, to commence at home that long career of charity—nobler than any fame of literature—signalized by various Christian efforts against duels, for peace, for the poor, and in every field of humanity, by which he is enrolled among the great names of Christendom. Princes and orators have lavished panegyrics upon this fugitive slave; and the Catholic Church, in homage to his extraordinary virtues, has numbered him with the saints. Nor is he the only illustrious Frenchman who has felt the yoke of slavery. Arago, astronomer and philosopher,—devoted republican also,—while on the coast of the Mediterranean, engaged in those scientific labors which made the beginning of his fame, came within the clutch of Algerine slave-dealers. What science and the world gained by his liberation I need not say.

Thus Science, Literature, Freedom, Philanthropy, the Catholic Church, each and all, owe a debt to the liberated Barbary slave. Let them, on this occasion, as beneficent heralds, commend the story of his wrongs, his struggles, and his triumphs!

I.

ORIGIN OF SLAVERY.

These preliminary remarks prepare the way for the subject to which I invite attention. Here I am naturally led to touch upon the origin of slavery, and the principles which lie at its foundation, before proceeding to exhibit the efforts for its abolition, and their final success in the Barbary States.

The word Slave, suggesting now so much of human abasement, has an origin which speaks of human grandeur. Its parent term, Slava, signifying glory, in the Slavonian dialect, where it first appears, was proudly assumed as the national designation of races in the northeastern part of the European continent, who, in the vicissitudes of war, were afterwards degraded from the condition of conquerors to that of servitude. The Slavonian bondman, retaining his national name, was known as Slave; and this term, passing from a race to a class, was afterwards applied, in the languages of modern Europe, to all in his unhappy lot, without distinction of country or color.[8] It would be difficult to mention any word which has played such opposite parts in history,—beneath the garb of servitude concealing its early robe of pride. And yet, startling as it seems, this word may be received in its primitive character, by those among us who consider slavery essential to democratic institutions, and therefore part of the true glory of the country. Lexicography, going beyond this historical illustration, announces that "most probably the original meaning was independent, free,"[9] thus making the slave distinctively the freeman. In the revolutions of society, and among the compensations of Providence for long-continued degradation, the slave might yet regain this original ascendency, if, in an era of justice, the highest condition were not where all are equal in rights.

SLAVERY IN ANTIQUITY.

Slavery was universally recognized by the nations of antiquity. It is said by Pliny, in bold phrase, that the LacedÆmonians "invented slavery."[10] If this were so, the glory of Lycurgus and Leonidas would not compensate for such a blot. It is true that they recognized it, and gave it a shape of peculiar hardship. But slavery is older than Sparta. It existed in the tents of Abraham; for the three hundred and eighteen servants born to him were slaves. We behold it in the story of Joseph, who was sold by his brothers to the Midianites for twenty pieces of silver.[11] We find it in the poetry of Homer, who stamps it with a reprobation which even the Christian Cowper has hardly surpassed, when he says,—

In later days it prevailed extensively in Greece, whose haughty people deemed themselves justified in enslaving all who were strangers to their manners and institutions. "It is right for Greeks to rule barbarians," was the sentiment of Euripides, one of the first of her poets, echoed by Aristotle, the greatest of her intellects.[13] And even Plato, in his imaginary Republic, the Utopia of his beautiful genius, sanctions slavery. But notwithstanding these high names, we learn from Aristotle himself that there were persons in his day—pestilent Abolitionists of ancient Athens—who did not hesitate to maintain that liberty was the great law of Nature, and to deny any difference between master and slave,—declaring at the same time that slavery was founded upon violence, and not upon right, and that the authority of the master was unnatural and unjust.[14] "God sent forth all persons free; Nature has made no man a slave,"[15] was the protest of one of these agitating Athenians against this great wrong. I am not in any way authorized to speak for any Anti-Slavery Society, even if this were the proper occasion; but I presume that this ancient Greek morality embodies substantially the principles maintained at their public meetings,—so far, at least, as they relate to slavery.

It is true, most true, that slavery stands on force and not on right. It is a hideous result of war, or of that barbarism in which savage war plays its conspicuous part. To the victor belonged the lives of his captives, and, by consequence, he might bind them in perpetual servitude. This principle, which has been the foundation of slavery in all ages, is adapted only to the rudest conditions of society, and is wholly inconsistent with a period of refinement, humanity, and justice. It is sad to confess that it was recognized by Greece; but the civilization of this famed land, though brilliant to the external view as the immortal sculptures of the Parthenon, was, like that stately temple, dark and cheerless within.

Slavery extended, with new rigors, under the military dominion of Rome. The spirit of freedom which animated the Republic was of that selfish and intolerant character which accumulated privileges upon the Roman citizen, while it heeded little the rights of others. But, unlike the Greeks, the Romans admitted in theory that all men are originally free by the Law of Nature; and they ascribed the power of masters over slaves, not to any alleged diversities in the races of men, but to the will of society.[16] The constant triumphs of their arms were signalized by reducing to servitude large bodies of subjugated people. Paulus Æmilius returned from Macedonia with an uncounted train of slaves, composed of persons in every sphere of life; and the camp of Lucullus in Pontus witnessed the sale of slaves for four drachmÆ, or seventy-five cents, a head.

Terence and PhÆdrus, Roman slaves, teach us that genius is not always quenched even by degrading bondage; while the writings of Cato the Censor, one of the most virtuous slave-masters in history, show the hardening influence of a system which treats human beings as cattle. "Let the husbandman," says Cato, "sell his old oxen, his sickly cattle, his sickly sheep, his wool, his hides, his old wagon, his old implements, his old slave, and his diseased slave; and if there is anything else not wanted, let him sell it. He should be seller, rather than buyer."[17]

The cruelty and inhumanity which flourished in the Republic professing freedom enjoyed a natural home under Emperors who were the high-priests of despotism. Wealth increased, and with it the multitude of slaves. Some masters are said to have owned as many as ten thousand, while extravagant prices were often paid for them, according to fancy or caprice. Martial mentions handsome boys sold for as much as two hundred thousand sesterces each, or more than eight thousand dollars.[18] On the assassination of Pedanius Secundus by one of his slaves, no less than four hundred were put to death,—an orator in the Senate arguing that these hecatombs were in accordance with ancient custom.[19]

It is easy to believe that slavery, which prevailed so largely in Greece and Rome, must have existed in Africa. Here, indeed, it found a peculiar home. If we trace the progress of this unfortunate continent from those distant days of fable when Jupiter did not

the merchandise in slaves will be found to have contributed to the abolition of two hateful customs, once universal in Africa,—the eating of captives, and their sacrifice to idols. Thus, in the march of civilization, even the barbarism of slavery is an important stage of Human Progress. It is a point in the ascending scale from cannibalism.

SLAVERY IN MODERN TIMES.

In the early periods of modern Europe slavery was a general custom, which yielded only gradually to the humane influences of Christianity. It prevailed in all the countries of which we have any records. Fair-haired Saxon slaves from distant England arrested the attention of Pope Gregory in the markets of Rome, and were by him hailed as Angels. A law of so virtuous a king as Alfred ranks slaves with horses and oxen; and the Chronicles of William of Malmesbury show that in our mother country there was once a cruel slave-trade in whites. As we listen to this story, we shall be grateful again to that civilization which renders such outrage more and more impossible. "Directly opposite to the Irish coast," he says, "there is a seaport called Bristol, the inhabitants of which frequently sent into Ireland to sell those people whom they had bought up throughout England. They exposed to sale girls in a state of pregnancy, with whom they made a sort of mock marriage. There you might see with grief, fastened together by ropes, whole rows of wretched beings of both sexes, of elegant forms, and in the very bloom of youth,—a sight sufficient to excite pity even in barbarians,—daily offered for sale to the first purchaser. Accursed deed! infamous disgrace! that men, acting in a manner which brute instinct alone would have forbidden, should sell into slavery their relations, nay, even their own offspring!"[21] From still another chronicler we learn, that, in 1172, when Ireland was afflicted with public calamities, there was a great assembly of the principal men, chiefly of the clergy, who concluded, as well they might, that these evils were sent upon their country for the reason that they had formerly purchased English boys as slaves, contrary to the right of Christian liberty,—the poor English, to supply their wants, being "accustomed to sell even their own children, not to bring them up": wherefore, it is said, the English slaves were allowed to depart in freedom.[22] Earlier in Irish history a boy was stolen from Scotland, who, after six years of bondage, succeeded in reaching his home, when, entering the Church, he returned to Ireland, preached Christianity, and, as St. Patrick, became the patron saint of that beautiful land.[23]

On the Continent of Europe, as late as the thirteenth century, the custom prevailed of treating all captives in war as slaves. Here poetry, as well as history, bears its testimony. Old Michael Drayton, in his story of the Battle of Agincourt, says of the French:—

And Othello, in recounting his perils, exposes this custom, when he speaks

It was also held lawful to enslave an infidel, or person who did not receive the Christian faith. The early Common Law of England doomed heretics to the stake; the Catholic Inquisition did the same; and the laws of OlÉron, the maritime code of the Middle Ages, treated them "as dogs," to be attacked and despoiled by all true believers. Philip le Bel of France, grandson of St. Louis, in 1296 presented his brother Charles, Count of Valois, with a Jew, and paid three hundred livres for another Jew,—as if Jews were at the time chattels, to be given away or bought.[25] The statutes of Florence, boastful of freedom, as late as 1415 allowed republican citizens to hold slaves not of the Catholic Christian faith,—Qui non sunt CatholicÆ fidei et ChristianÆ.[26] Besides captive Moors, there were African slaves in Spain, before Christopher Columbus; and at Venice Marco Polo for some time held a slave he had brought from the Orient in the age of Dante. The comedies of MoliÈre, L'Étourdi and Le Sicilien, depicting Italian usages not remote from his day, show that at Messina even Christian women continued to be sold as slaves.

This rapid sketch, which brings us down to the period when Algiers became a terror to the Christian nations, renders it no longer astonishing that the barbarous States of Barbary—a part of Africa, the great womb of slavery, professing Mahometanism, which not only recognizes slavery, but expressly ordains "chains and collars" to infidels[27]—should maintain the traffic in slaves, particularly in Christians, denying the faith of the Prophet. In the duty of constant war upon unbelievers, and in the assertion of right to the service or ransom of their captives, they followed the lessons of Christians themselves.

It is not difficult, then, to account for the origin of this cruel custom. Its history forms our next topic.

II.

HISTORY OF WHITE SLAVERY.

The Barbary States, after the decline of the Arabian power, were enveloped in darkness, rendered more palpable by increasing light among the Christian nations. At the twilight of European civilization they appear to be little more than scattered bands of robbers and pirates, "land-rats and water-rats" of Shylock, leading the lives of Ishmaelites. Algiers is described by an early writer as "a den of sturdy thieves formed into a body, by which, after a tumultuary sort, they govern,"[28]—and by still another writer, contemporary with the monstrosity which he exposes, as the "theatre of all crueltie and sanctuarie of iniquitie, holding captive, in miserable servitude, one hundred and twentie thousand Christians, almost all subjects of the king of Spaine."[29] Their habit of enslaving prisoners captured in war and piracy arousing at last the sacred animosities of Christendom, Ferdinand the Catholic, after the conquest of Granada, and while the boundless discoveries of Columbus, giving to Castile and Leon a new world, still occupied his mind, found time to direct an expedition into Africa, under the military command of that great ecclesiastic, Cardinal Ximenes. It is recorded that this valiant soldier of the Church, on effecting the conquest of Oran, in 1509, had the inexpressible satisfaction of liberating three hundred Christian slaves.[30]

To stay the progress of the Spanish arms the government of Algiers invoked assistance from abroad. Two brothers, Horuc and Hayradin, sons of a potter in the island of Lesbos, had become famous as corsairs. In an age when the sword of the adventurer often carved a higher fortune than could be earned by lawful exertion, they were dreaded for abilities, hardihood, and power. To them Algiers turned for aid. The corsairs left the sea to sway the land,—or rather, with amphibious robbery, took possession of Algiers and Tunis, while they continued to prey upon the sea. The name of Barbarossa, by which they are known to Christians, is terrible in modern history.[31]

MILITARY EXPEDITIONS AGAINST WHITE SLAVERY.

With pirate ships they infested the seas, and spread their ravages along the coasts of Spain and Italy, until Charles the Fifth was aroused to undertake their overthrow. The various strength of his broad dominions was rallied in this new crusade. "If the enthusiasm," says Sismondi, "which had armed the Christians in the old Crusades was nearly extinct, a new sentiment, more rational and legitimate, united the vows of Europe with the efforts of Charles against the infidels. The object was no longer to reconquer the tomb of Christ, but to defend the civilization, the liberty, the lives of Christians."[32] A stanch body of infantry from Germany, veterans of Spain and Italy, the flower of the Spanish nobility, knights of Malta, with a fleet of near five hundred vessels, contributed by Italy, Portugal, and even distant Holland, commanded by Andrew Doria, the great sea-officer of the age,—the whole under the immediate eye of the Emperor himself, with the countenance and benediction of the Pope, and composing one of the most complete armaments which the world had hitherto seen,—were directed upon Tunis. Barbarossa opposed them bravely, but with unequal forces. While slowly yielding to attack from without, his defeat was hastened by unexpected uprising within. Confined in the citadel were many Christian slaves, who, asserting the rights of freedom, obtained a bloody emancipation, and turned its artillery against their former masters. The place yielded to the Emperor, whose soldiers soon surrendered to the inhuman excesses of war. The blood of thirty thousand innocent inhabitants reddened his victory. Amidst these scenes of horror there was but one spectacle that afforded any satisfaction to the imperial conqueror. It was that of ten thousand Christian slaves rejoicing in emancipation, who met him as he entered the town, and, falling on their knees, thanked him as their deliverer.[33]

In the treaty of peace which ensued, it was expressly stipulated on the part of Tunis, that all Christian slaves, of whatever nation, should be set at liberty without ransom, and that no subject of the Emperor should for the future be detained in slavery.[34]

The apparent generosity of this undertaking, the magnificence with which it was conducted, and the success with which it was crowned drew to the Emperor the homage of his age beyond any other event of his reign. Twenty thousand slaves freed by treaty or by arms diffused through Europe the praise of his name. It is probable that in this expedition the Emperor was governed by motives little higher than vulgar ambition and fame; but the results by which it was emblazoned, in the emancipation of so many fellow-Christians from cruel chains, place him, with Cardinal Ximenes, among the earliest Abolitionists of modern times.

This was in 1535. Only a few short years before, in 1517, he conceded to a Flemish courtier the exclusive privilege of importing into the West Indies four thousand blacks from Africa. It is said that Charles lived long enough to repent what he had thus inconsiderately done.[35] Certain it is, no single concession of king or emperor recorded in history has produced such disastrous far-reaching consequences. The Fleming sold his monopoly to a company of Genoese merchants, who organized a systematic traffic in slaves between Africa and America. Thus, while levying a mighty force to check the piracies of Barbarossa, and to procure the abolition of Christian slavery in Tunis, the Emperor, with criminal inconsistency, laid the corner-stone of a new slavery, in comparison with which the enormity he warred against was trivial and fugitive.

Elated by the conquest of Tunis, filled also with the ambition of subduing all the Barbary States, and of extirpating Christian slavery, the Emperor in 1541 directed an expedition of singular grandeur against Algiers. The Pope tardily joined his influence to the martial array. But Nature proved stronger than Pope and Emperor. Within sight of Algiers a sudden storm shattered his proud fleet, and he was driven back to Spain, discomfited, with none of those trophies of emancipation with which his former expedition was crowned.[36]

The power of the Barbary States was now at its height. Their corsairs became the scourge of Christendom, while their much dreaded system of slavery assumed a front of new terror. Their ravages were not confined to the Mediterranean. They entered the ocean, and penetrated even to the Straits of Dover and St. George's Channel. From the chalky cliffs of England, and from the remote western coasts of Ireland, unsuspecting inhabitants were swept into cruel captivity.[37] The English government was aroused against these atrocities. In 1620, a fleet of eighteen ships, under the command of Sir Robert Mansel, Vice-Admiral, was despatched to punish Algiers. It returned without being able, in the language of the times, to "destroy those hellish pirates," though it obtained the liberation of "some forty poore captives, which they pretended was all they had in the towne." Purchas records, that the English fleet was indebted for information to "a Christian captive, which did swimme from the towne to the ships."[38] Not in this respect only does this expedition recall that of Charles the Fifth, which received important assistance from rebel slaves; we observe also a similar inconsistency in the government which directed it. It was in the year 1620,—dear to all the descendants of the Pilgrims of Plymouth Rock as an epoch of freedom,—while an English fleet was seeking the emancipation of Englishmen held in bondage by Algiers, that African slaves were first introduced into the English colonies of North America,[39] thus beginning that dreadful system whose long catalogue of humiliation and woes is not yet complete.

The expedition against Algiers was followed, in 1637, by another against Sallee, in Morocco. Terrified by its approach, the Moors desperately transferred a thousand captives, British subjects, to Tunis and Algiers. "Some Christians that were slaves ashore, who stole away out of the town and came swimming aboard," together with intestine feud, aided the fleet, and the cause of emancipation speedily triumphed.[40] Two hundred and ninety Britons were released, and a promise was extorted from the enemy to redeem the wretched captives sold away to Tunis and Algiers. Shortly afterwards an ambassador from the King of Morocco visited England, and on his way through the streets of London to his audience at court was attended by "four Barbary horses led along in rich caparisons, and richer saddles, with bridles set with stones; also some hawks; many of the captives whom he brought over going along afoot clad in white."[41] Every emancipated slave was a grateful witness to English prowess.

The importance attached to this achievement is inferred from the singular joy with which it was hailed in England. Though on a limited scale, it was nothing less than a war of liberation. Poet, ecclesiastic, and statesman now joined in congratulation. It inspired the Muse of Waller to a poem called "The Taking of Sallee," where the submission of the slaveholder is thus described:—

It gladdened Laud, and lighted with exultation the dark mind of Strafford. "For Sallee, the town is taken," said the Archbishop in a letter to the Earl, then in Ireland, "and all the captives at Sallee and Morocco delivered,—as many, our merchants say, as, according to the price of the market, come to ten thousand pounds at least."[42] Strafford saw in the popularity of this triumph fresh opportunity to commend the tyrannical designs of Charles the First. "This action of Sallee," he wrote in reply to the Archbishop, "I assure you, is full of honor, will bring great content to the subject, and should, methinks, help much towards the ready, cheerful payment of the shipping moneys."[43] Thus was this act of emancipation linked with one of the most memorable events of English history.

The coasts of England were now protected; but her subjects at sea continued the prey of Algerine corsairs, who, according to the historian Carte, now "carried their English captives to France, drove them in chains overland to Marseille, to ship them thence with greater safety for slaves to Algiers."[44] The increasing troubles which distracted the reign of Charles the First, and finally brought his head to the block, could not divert attention from the sorrows of Englishmen, victims to Mahometan slave-drivers. At the height of the struggle between King and Parliament, an earnest voice was raised in behalf of these fellow-Christians in bonds. Edmund Waller, who was orator as well as poet, speaking in Parliament in 1641, said, "By the many petitions which we receive from the wives of those miserable captives at Algiers (being between four or five thousand of our countrymen) it does too evidently appear that to make us slaves at home is not the way to keep us from being made slaves abroad."[45]

Publications pleading their cause are yet extant, bearing date 1637, 1640, 1642, and 1647.[46] The overthrow of an oppression so justly odious formed a worthy object for the imperial energies of Cromwell; and in 1655, when, amidst the amazement of Europe, the English sovereignty settled upon his Atlantean shoulders, he directed into the Mediterranean a navy of thirty ships, under the command of Admiral Blake. This was the most powerful English force which had sailed into that sea since the Crusades.[47] Its success was complete. "General Blak," said one of the foreign agents of Government, "has ratifyed the articles of peace at Argier, and included therein Scotch, Irish, Jarnsey and Garnsey-men, and all others the Protector's subjects. He has lykewys redeemed from thence al such as wer captives ther. Several Duch captives swam aboard the fleet, and so escape theyr captivity."[48] Tunis, as well as Algiers, was humbled; all British captives were set at liberty; and the Protector, in his remarkable speech at the opening of Parliament, announced peace with the "profane" nations in that region.[49] To my mind no single circumstance gives higher impression of that vigilance with which the Protector guarded his subjects than this effort, to which may be applied the "smooth" line of Waller,—

His vigorous sway was succeeded by the voluptuous tyranny of Charles the Second, inaugurated by an unsuccessful expedition against Algiers under Lord Sandwich. This was soon followed by another, with more favorable result, under Admiral Lawson.[51] Then came a treaty, bearing date May 3, 1662, by which the piratical government stipulated, "that all subjects of the king of Great Britain, now slaves in Algiers, or any of the territories thereof, shall be set at liberty, and released, upon paying the price they were first sold for in the market; and for the time to come no subjects of His Majesty shall be bought or sold, or made slaves of, in Algiers or its territories."[52] This seems to have been short-lived. Other expeditions ensued, and other treaties in 1664, 1672, 1682, and 1686,—showing, by their constant iteration, the little impression produced upon these barbarians.[53] Insensible to justice and freedom, how could they be faithful to stipulations in restraint of robbery and slaveholding?

Legislation turned aside in behalf of these captives. The famous statute of the forty-third year of Queen Elizabeth for charitable uses designates among proper objects the "relief or redemption of prisoners or captives," meaning especially, according to recent judicial decision, those suffering in the Barbary States. A bequest by Lady Mico, in 1670, "to redeem poor slaves in what manner the executors should think convenient," came under review as late as 1835, when slavery in the Barbary States was already dead, and the British Act of Emancipation had commenced its operation in the West Indies; but the court sanctioned the application of the fund to the education of the Africans whose freedom was then beginning.[54] Thus was a charity originally inspired by sympathy for white slaves applied to the benefit of black.

During a long succession of years, complaints of English captives continued. In 1748 an indignant soul found expression in these words:—

But during all this time the slavery of blacks, transported to the colonies under British colors, continued also!

Meanwhile France plied Algiers with embassies and bombardments. In 1635 three hundred and forty-seven Frenchmen were captives there. M. de Samson was dispatched on an unsuccessful mission for their liberation. They were offered to him "for the price they were sold for in the market"; but this he refused to pay.[56]

Two years later, M. de Manti, who was called "that noble captain, and glory of the French nation," was sent "with fifteen of his king's ships, and a commission to enfranchise the French slaves." He also returned, leaving his countrymen still in captivity.[57] Treaties followed, hastily concluded, and abruptly broken, till at last Louis the Fourteenth, in the pride of power, did for France what Cromwell had done for England. Algiers, twice bombarded[58] in 1683, sent deputies to sue for peace, and to surrender all her Christian slaves. Tunis and Tripoli made the same submission. Voltaire, with his accustomed point, says that by this transaction the French became respected on the coast of Africa, where they had before been known only as slaves.[59]

An unhappy incident is mentioned by the historian, which attests how little the French at that time, even while engaged in securing the redemption of their own countrymen, cared for the cause of general freedom. An officer of the triumphant fleet, receiving the Christian slaves surrendered to him, observed among them many English, who, with national vainglory, maintained that they were set at liberty out of regard to the king of England. At once the Frenchman summoned the Algerines, and, returning the foolish captives into their hands, said: "These people pretend that they have been delivered in the name of their monarch. Mine does not take the liberty to offer them his protection. I return them to you. It is for you to show what you owe to the king of England."[60] The Englishmen were hurried again to prolonged slavery. The power of Charles the Second was impotent in their behalf, as was the sense of justice and humanity in the French officer or the Algerine slave-masters.

I cannot pause to develop the course of other efforts by France; nor can I dwell upon the determined conduct of Holland, one of whose greatest naval commanders, Admiral de Ruyter, in 1661, enforced at Algiers the emancipation of several hundred Christian slaves.[61] The inconsistency which we have before remarked appears also in these two powers. Both, while using their best endeavors for the freedom of their white people, were cruelly engaged selling blacks into distant American slavery,—as if every word of reprobation fastened upon the piratical, slave-driving Algerines did not return in eternal judgment against themselves.

REDEMPTION OF WHITE SLAVES.

Thus far I have followed the history of military expeditions. War has been our melancholy burden. But peaceful measures were employed to procure the redemption of slaves, and money sometimes accomplished what was vainly attempted by the sword. In furtherance of this object, missions were often sent which could not be disregarded. These sometimes had a formal diplomatic organization; sometimes they consisted of fathers of the Church, who held it a sacred office to open the prison-doors and let the captives go free.[62] It was through the intervention of superiors of the Order of the Holy Trinity, dispatched to Algiers by Philip the Second of Spain, that Cervantes obtained his ransom; in 1580.[63] Expeditions of commerce often served to promote similar designs of charity; and England, forgetting or distrusting all her sleeping thunder, sometimes condescended to barter articles of merchandise for the liberty of her subjects.[64]

Private effort often secured the liberation of slaves. Friends at home naturally exerted themselves, and many families were straitened by generous contributions for this purpose. The widowed mother of Cervantes sacrificed the entire pittance that remained to her, including the dowry of her daughters, to aid the emancipation of her son. An Englishman, of whose doleful captivity there is a record in the memoirs of his son, obtained his redemption through the earnest efforts of his wife at home. "She resolved," says the story, "to use all the means that lay in her power for his freedom, though she left nothing for herself and children to subsist upon. She was forced to put to sale, as she did, some plate, gold rings, and bracelets, and some part of her household goods, to make up his ransom, which came to about one hundred and fifty pounds sterling."[65] In 1642 four French brothers were ransomed at the price of six thousand dollars. At this same period the sum exacted for the poorest Spaniard was "a thousand shillings," while the Genoese, "if under twenty-two years of age, were freed for a hundred pounds sterling."[66] These charitable efforts were aided by the co-operation of benevolent persons. George Fox interceded for several Quakers, slaves in Algiers, writing "a book to the Grand Sultan and the king at Algiers, wherein he laid before them their indecent behavior and unreasonable dealings, showing them from their Alcoran that this displeased God, and that Mahomet had given them other directions." Here was the customary plainness of the Quaker. Some time elapsed before an opportunity was found to redeem them; "but in the mean while they so faithfully served their masters, that they were suffered to go loose through the town, without being chained or fettered."[67]

As early as the thirteenth century, under the sanction of Pope Innocent the Third, an important association was organized to promote emancipation. This was known as the Society of the Fathers of Redemption.[68] During many successive generations its blessed labors were continued, amidst the praise and sympathy of generous men. History, undertaking to recount its origin, and filled with a grateful sense of its extraordinary merits, attributed it to the inspiration of an angel in the sky, clothed in resplendent light, holding a Christian captive in the right hand and a Moor in the left. The pious Spaniard who narrates the marvel earnestly declares that this institution of beneficence was the work, not of men, but of the great God alone; and he dwells, with more than the warmth of history, on the glory filling the lives of its associates, surpassing far that of a Roman triumph; for they share the name as well as the labors of the Redeemer of the world, to whose spirit they are heirs, and to whose works they are successors. "Lucullus," he says, "affirmed that it were better to liberate a single Roman from the hands of the enemy than to gain all their wealth; but how much greater the gain, more excellent the glory, and more than human is it to redeem a captive! For whosoever redeems him liberates him not alone from one death, but from death in a thousand ways, and those ever present, and also from a thousand afflictions, a thousand miseries, a thousand torments and fearful travails, more cruel than death itself."[69] The genius of Cervantes has left a record of his gratitude to this Antislavery Society,[70]—herald of others whose mission is not yet finished. Throughout Spain annual contributions for it continued to be taken during many years. Nor in Spain only did it awaken sympathy. In Italy and France also it labored successfully; and as late as 1748, inspired by a similar catholic spirit, if not by its example, a proposition appeared in England to "form a society to carry on the truly charitable design" of emancipating sixty-four English slaves in Morocco.[71]

CONSPIRACIES FOR FREEDOM.

War and ransom were not the only agents. Even if history were silent, it is impossible to suppose that slaves of African Barbary endured their lot without struggles for freedom.

These are words of the slave in a play; but they express the natural inborn sentiments of all with intelligence to appreciate the precious boon of freedom. "Thanks be to God for so great mercies!" says the Captive in Don Quixote; "for in my opinion there is no happiness on earth equal to that of recovering lost liberty."[73] And plain Thomas Phelps,—once a slave at Mequinez in Morocco, whence, in 1685, he fortunately escaped,—narrating his adventures and sufferings, breaks forth in similar strain. "Since my escape," he says, "from captivity, and worse than Egyptian bondage, I have, methinks, enjoyed a happiness with which my former life was never acquainted; now that, after a storm and terrible tempest, I have, by miracle, put into a safe and quiet harbor, after a most miserable slavery to the most unreasonable and barbarous of men, now that I enjoy the immunities and freedom of my native country and the privileges of a subject of England, although my circumstances otherwise are but indifferent, yet I find I am affected with extraordinary emotions and singular transports of joy; now I know what liberty is, and can put a value and make a just estimate of that happiness which before I never well understood.... Health can be but slightly esteemed by him who never was acquainted with pain or sickness; and liberty and freedom are the happiness only valuable by a reflection on captivity and slavery."[74] Thus from every quarter gathers the cloud of witnesses.

The history of Algiers abounds in well-authenticated examples of conspiracy against Government by Christian slaves: so strong was the passion for escape. In 1531 and 1559 two separate schemes were matured, promising for a while entire success. The slaves were numerous; keys to open the prisons had been forged, and arms supplied; but the treachery of one of their number betrayed the plot to the Dey, who sternly doomed the conspirators to the bastinado and the stake. Cervantes, during his captivity, nothing daunted by disappointed efforts, and the terrible vengeance which attended them, conceived the plan of a general slave insurrection, with the overthrow of the Algerine power, and the surrender of the city to the Spanish crown. This was in accord with that sentiment to which he gives such famous utterance in his writings, that "for liberty we ought to risk life itself, slavery being the greatest evil that can fall to the lot of man."[75] As late as 1763 there was a similar insurrection or conspiracy. "Last month," says a journal of high authority, "the Christian slaves at Algiers, to the number of four thousand, rose and killed their guards, and massacred all who came in their way; but after some hours' carnage, during which the streets ran with blood, peace was restored."[76] How truly is bloodshed the natural incident of slavery!

EFFORTS TO ESCAPE FROM SLAVERY.

The struggles for freedom could not always assume the shape of conspiracy. They were often efforts to escape, sometimes in numbers and sometimes singly. The captivity of Cervantes was filled with such, where, though constantly balked, he persevered with courage and skill. On one occasion he attempted to escape by land to Oran, a Spanish settlement on the coast, but, being deserted by his guide, was compelled to return.[77] Another endeavor was promoted by Christian merchants at Algiers, through whose agency a vessel was actually purchased for this purpose. And still another was favored by a number of his own countrymen, hovering on the coast in a vessel from Majorca, who did not think it wrong to aid in the liberation of slaves. And this was supposed to be aided by a Spanish ecclesiastic, Father Olivar, who, being at Algiers for the ransom of slaves, could not resist the temptation to lend generous assistance to the struggles of fellow-Christians in bonds. He paid the bitter penalty which similar service to freedom has found elsewhere and in another age. He was seized by the Dey, and thrown into chains; for the Algerine government held it a high offence to further in any way the escape of a slave.[78]

Endeavors for freedom are animating; nor can any honest nature hear of them without a throb of sympathy. Dwelling on the painful narrative of unequal contest between tyrannical power and the crushed captive, we resolutely enter the lists on the side of freedom; and beholding the contest waged by a few individuals, or, perhaps, by one alone, our sympathy is given to his weakness as well as to his cause. To him we send the unfaltering succor of good wishes. For him we invoke vigor of arm to defend and fleetness of foot to escape. Human enactments are vain to restrain the warm tides of the heart. We pause with rapture on those historic scenes where freedom has been attempted or preserved through the magnanimous self-sacrifice of friendship or Christian aid. With palpitating bosom we follow Mary of Scotland in her midnight flight from the custody of her stern jailers; we accompany Grotius in his escape from prison, so adroitly promoted by his wife; we join Lavalette in his flight, aided also by his wife; and we offer our admiration and gratitude to Huger and Bollmann, who, unawed by the arbitrary ordinances of Austria, strove heroically, though vainly, to rescue Lafayette from the dungeons of OlmÜtz. The laws of Algiers, which sanctioned a cruel slavery, dooming to condign punishment all endeavors for freedom, and especially all countenance of such endeavors, can no longer prevent our sympathy with Cervantes, not less gallant than renowned, who strove so constantly and earnestly to escape his chains,—nor our homage to those Christians also who did not fear to aid him, and to the good ecclesiastic who suffered in his cause.[79]

The efforts to escape from slavery in the Barbary States, so far as they can be traced, are full of interest. Each, also, has its lesson for us at the present hour. The following is in the exact words of an early writer. "One John Fox, an expert mariner, and a good, approved, and sufficient gunner, was (in the raigne of Queene Elizabeth) taken by the Turkes, and kept eighteene yeeres in most miserable bondage and slavery; at the end of which time he espied his opportunity (and God assisting him withall), that hee slew his keeper, and fled to the sea's side, where he found a gally with one hundred and fifty captive Christians, which hee speedily waying their anchor, set saile, and fell to worke like men, and safely arrived in Spaone, by which meanes he freed himselfe and a number of poore soules from long and intolerable servitude; after which the said John Fox came into England, and the Queene (being rightly informed of his brave exploit) did graciously entertaine him for her servant, and allowed him a yeerely pension."[80]

There is also in the same early source a quaint description of what occurred to a ship from Bristol, captured by an Algerine corsair in 1621. The Englishmen were all taken out except four youths, over whom the Turks, as these barbarians are often called by early writers, put thirteen of their own men, to conduct the ship as prize to Algiers; and one of the pirates, "a strong, able, sterne, and resolute fellow," was appointed captain. "These foure poore youths," so the story proceeds, "being thus fallen into the hands of mercilesse infidels, began to studie and complot all the meanes they could for the obtayning of their freedomes. First, they considered the lamentable and miserable estates that they were like to be in,—as, to be debard for ever from seeing their friends and countrey, to be chained, beaten, made slaves, and to eate the bread of affliction in the gallies, all the remainder of their unfortunate lives, to have their heads shaven, to feed on course dyet, to have hard boords for beds, and, which was worst of all, never to be partakers of the heavenly word and sacraments. Thus being quite hopelesse, haplesse, and, for any thing they knew, for ever helplesse, they sayled five dayes and nights under the command of the pirats, when, on the fifth night, God, in his great mercy, shewed them a meanes for their wished for escape." A sudden wind arose, when, the captain coming to help take in the mainsail, two of the English youths "suddenly tooke him by the breech and threw him over-boord; but by fortune hee fell into the bunt of the sayle, where, quickly catching hold of a rope, he (being a very strong man) had almost gotten into the ship againe, which John Cooke perceiving leaped speedily to the pumpe and tooke off the pumpe brake or handle and cast it to William Ling, bidding him knocke him downe, which he was not long in doing, but, lifting up the woodden weapon, he gave him such a palt on the pate as made his braines forsake the possession of his head, with which his body fell into the sea." The corsair slave-dealers were overpowered. The four English youths drove them "from place to place in the ship, and having coursed them from the poope to the forecastle, they there valiantly killed two of them, and gave another a dangerous wound or two, who, to escape the further fury of their swords, leap'd suddenly over-boord to goe seeke his captaine." The other nine Turks ran between-decks, where they were securely fastened. The English now directed their course to St. Lucas, in Spain, and "in short time (by Gods ayde) happily and safely arrived at the said port, where they sold the nine Turkes for gally-slaves for a good summe of money, and, as I thinke, a great deale more then they were worth." "He that shall attribute such things as these to the arme of flesh and bloud," says the ancient historian, grateful for this triumph of freedom, "is forgetfull, ingratefull, and in a manner atheisticall."[81]

From the same authority I draw another narrative of singular success the following year. A company of Englishmen, being captured and carried into Algiers, were sold as slaves. These are the words of one of their number: "The souldiers hurried us like dogs into the market, where as men sell hacknies in England we were tossed up and downe to see who would give most for us; and although we had heavy hearts and looked with sad countenances, yet many came to behold us, sometimes taking us by the hand, sometime turning us round about, sometimes feeling our brawnes and naked armes, and so beholding our prices written in our breasts, they bargained for us accordingly, and at last we were all sold." Shortly afterward several were put on board an Algerine corsair. One of them, John Rawlins, who resembled Cervantes in the hardihood of his exertions for freedom,—as, like him, he had lost the use of a hand,—arranged an uprising on board. "'Oh hellish slaverie,'" he said, "'to be thus subject to dogs! Oh, God strengthen my heart and hand, and something shall be done to ease us of these mischiefes, and deliver us from these cruell Mahumetan dogs.' The other slaves, pittying his distraction (as they thought), bad him speake softly, lest they should all fare the worse for his distemperature. 'The worse,' (quoth Rawlins,) 'what can be worse? I will either attempt my deliverance at one time or another, or perish in the enterprise.'" Seizing an auspicious moment, nine English slaves, besides John Rawlins, with other English, French, and Hollanders, "in all foure and twenty and a boy," succeeded, after a bloody contest, in overpowering five-and-forty Turks. "When all was done," the story proceeds, "and the ship cleared of the dead bodies, John Rawlins assembled his men together, and with one consent gave the praise unto God, using the accustomed service on ship-boord, and, for want of bookes, lifted up their voyces to God, as he put into their hearts or renewed their memories; then did they sing a psalme, and, last of all, embraced one another for playing the men in such a deliverance, whereby our feare was turned into joy, and trembling hearts exhillirated, that we had escaped such inevitable dangers, and especially the slavery and terror of bondage worse then death it selfe. The same night we washed our ship, put every thing in as good order as we could, repaired the broken quarter, set up the biticle, and bore up the helme for England, where by Gods grace and good guiding we arrived at Plimmoth the thirteenth of February."[82]

In 1685, Thomas Phelps and Edmund Baxter, Englishmen, accomplished their escape from captivity at Mequinez. The latter had made a previous unsuccessful attempt, which drew upon him the bastinado, disabling him from work for a twelvemonth; "but, notwithstanding, such was his love for Christian liberty," that he freely declared to his companion "that he would adventure with any fair opportunity." Here the story is like one of our own day. By devious paths, journeying in the darkness of night, and by day sheltering themselves in bushes or in the branches of fig-trees, they at length reached the sea. "With imminent risk of discovery, they succeeded in finding a boat not far from Sallee. This they took without consulting the proprietor, and rowed to a distant ship, which, to their great joy, proved to be an English man-of-war. Making known the exposed situation of the Moorish ships at Mamora, they formed part of a night expedition in boats which boarded and burnt them. "One Moor," says the account, "we found aboard, who was presently cut in pieces; another was shot in the head, endeavoring to escape upon the cable. We were not long in taking in our shavings and tar-barrels, and so set her on fire in several places, she being very apt to receive what we designed; for there were several barrels of tar upon the deck, and she was newly tarred, as if on purpose. Whilst we were setting her on fire, we heard a noise of some people in the hold; we opened the skuttles, and thereby saved the lives of four Christians, three Dutch-men and one French, who told us the ship on fire was admiral, and belonged to Aly-Hackum, and the other, which we soon after served with the same sauce, had the name of Plummage Cortibe, which was the very ship which in October last took me captive." The Englishman, once a captive, who tells this story, says it is "most especially to move pity for the afflictions of Joseph, to excite compassionate regard to those poor countrymen now languishing in misery and irons, to endeavor their releasement."[83]

Even the non-resistance of Quakers, animated by zeal for freedom, contrived to baffle these slave-dealers. A ship in the charge of these Christians became the prey of Algerines; and the curious story is told, with details unnecessary here, of the manner in which the vessel was subsequently recaptured by the crew without loss of life. To complete this triumph, the slave-pirates were safely landed on their own shores, and allowed to go their way in peace, acknowledging with astonishment and gratitude this new application of the Christian injunction to do good to them that hate you. On the return, Charles the Second, being at Greenwich, and learning that "there was a Quaker ketch coming up the river, that had been taken by the Turks, and redeemed themselves without fighting," came to it in his barge, and there hearing "how they had let the Turks go free," said to the master, with the spirit of a slave-dealer, "You have done like a fool, for you might have had good gain for them." And to the mate he said, "You should have brought the Turks to me." "I thought it better for them to be in their own country," was the Quaker's reply.[84]

These are English stories. But there is testimony also from France. A Catholic father furnishes a chapter entitled, "Of some Slaves that made their Escape"; and he begins by narrating the difficulties: how the slaves, before they start, secure the assistance of certain Moors, called Metadores, "who promise to conduct them among Christians for a sum agreed on"; how they journey all night, sheltering themselves during the day in woods, caves, or other retired places, always in dread, and anxiously awaiting the return of darkness to cover their movements; how the flight is long and wearisome, environed by perpetual hardship and peril; how, if alone, there is danger of death on the mountains, through hunger and thirst, or from lions and tigers; and how, if retaken, there is the fearful prospect of being burned or cruelly bastinadoed, with a constant weight of irons while at their daily toil. "But their torments and dangers," says the father, "are less dreadful than the thoughts of living all their days in that miserable slavery."[85]

Then comes the narrative of two Frenchmen who with incredible effort journeyed one hundred and fifty leagues, being on the road eighteen nights "without eating anything considerable," and were at last so near their liberty as to see a town belonging to the king of Portugal, making them forget their fatigues, when they were unhappily retaken, hurried back to their master, loaded with irons, and condemned to double labor. As they were studying a second escape, they were relieved by death, that constant friend of the slave. This narrative is followed by that of two other Frenchmen, who commenced their escape on the 2d of October, 1693, "having no other guide than the North Star to direct their course." And here ensues that succession of trials which is the lot of the fugitive slave, all of which is told at length. There was peril in leaving the city and passing the outer guards; but when this was done, then came the desert, with its rocks and precipices, where they met "some tigers and many lions," making it hideous with their roaring; but worse than tiger or lion was the fiery thirst that pursued them; and worse than all was man, for it was from him that they feared most. They, too, found themselves in sight of the liberty they had sought with such pain, when, like their predecessors, they were retaken and hurried back. Asked why they had fled, they answered, "For the sake of liberty, and we are guilty of no other crime." Burdened with heavy chains, they were again put to work, with the threat of being burned alive, if they attempted the like again. But notwithstanding all this terrible experience and the menace of death by the flames, they made another attempt, "preferring," says the Catholic father, "all perils and hardships before the insupportable burden of their captivity." Again they failed, and were carried back to fearful torment, when at last they were ransomed by the mission in the name of the French monarch.[86]

In the current of time other instances occurred. A letter from Algiers, dated August 6, 1772, and preserved in the British Annual Register, furnishes the following story. "A most remarkable escape," it says, "of some Christian prisoners has lately been effected here, which will undoubtedly cause those that have not had that good fortune to be treated with the utmost rigor. On the morning of the 27th of July, the Dey was informed that all the Christian slaves had escaped over-night in a galley. This news soon raised him, and, upon inquiry, it was found to have been a preconcerted plan. About ten at night, seventy-four slaves, who had found means to escape from their masters, met in a large square near the gate which opens to the harbor, and, being well armed, they soon forced the guard to submit, and, to prevent their raising the city, confined them all in the powder-magazine. They then proceeded to the lower part of the harbor, where they embarked on board a large rowing polacre, that was left there for the purpose, and, the tide ebbing out, they fell gently down with it, and passed both the forts. As soon as this was known, three large galleys were ordered out after them, but to no purpose. They returned in three days, with the news of seeing the polacre sail into Barcelona, where the galleys durst not go to attack her."[87]

The same historic authority records another triumph of freedom. "Forty-six captives," it says, at the date of September 3, 1776, "who were employed to draw stones from a quarry some leagues' distance from Algiers, at a place named Genova, resolved, if possible, to recover their liberty, and yesterday took advantage of the idleness and inattention of forty men who were to guard them, and who had laid down their arms, and were rambling about the shore. The captives attacked them with pick-axes and other tools, and made themselves masters of their arms; and having killed thirty-three of the forty, and eleven of the thirteen sailors who were in the boat which carried the stones, they obliged the rest to jump into the sea. Being then masters of the boat, and armed with twelve muskets, two pistols, and powder, &c., they set sail, and had the good fortune to arrive here [at Palma, the capital of Majorca] this morning, where they are performing quarantine. Sixteen of them are Spaniards, seventeen French, eight Portuguese, three Italians, one a German, and one a Sardinian."[88] Here, as in other cases, I copy the precise language of the authority, without adding a word. These simple stories show how captives have escaped and the world has sympathized.

AMERICAN VICTIMS.

Thus far I have followed the efforts of European nations, and the struggles of European victims of White Slavery. I pass now to America, and to our own country. In the name of fellow-countryman there is a charm of peculiar power. The story of his sorrows will come nearer to our hearts, and, perhaps, to the experience of individuals or families among us, than the story of distant Spaniards, Frenchmen, or Englishmen. Nor are materials wanting.

In earliest days, while the Colonies yet contended with savage Indians, families were compelled to mourn the hapless fate of brothers, fathers, and husbands doomed to slavery in distant African Barbary. Five years after the landing at Plymouth, a returning ship, already "shot deep into the English Channel," was "taken by a Turks man-of-war and carried into Sallee, where the master and men were made slaves," while a consort ship with Miles Standish aboard narrowly escaped this fate.[89] In 1640, "one Austin, a man of good estate," returning discontented to England from Quinipiack, now New Haven, on his way "was taken by the Turks, and Austin and his wife and family were carried to Algiers, and sold there for slaves."[90] Under date of 1671, in the diary of Rev. John Eliot, first minister of Roxbury and devoted apostle to the Indians, prefixed to the records of the church in that town, and still preserved in manuscript, these few words tell a story of sorrow: "We heard the sad and heavy tidings concerning the captivity of Captain Foster and his son at Sallee." From further entries it appears that they were redeemed after a bondage of three years. The same record shows other victims for whom the sympathies of the church and neighborhood were enlisted. Here is one: "20 10 1674. This Sabbath we had a public collection for Edward Howard, of Boston, to redeem him out of his sad Turkish captivity, in which collection was gathered 12l. 18s. 9d. which by God's favor made up the just sum desired." Not long after, at a date left uncertain, it appears that William Bowen "was taken by the Turks"; a contribution was made for his redemption, "and the people went to the public box, young and old, but, before the money could answer the end for which the congregation intended it," tidings came of the death of the unhappy captive, and the contribution was afterwards "improved to build a tomb for the town to inter their ministers."[91] Money collected for emancipation built the tomb of the Roxbury ministers.

Instances now thicken. A ship, sailing from Charlestown, in 1678, was taken by a corsair, and carried into Algiers, whence its passengers and crew never returned. They probably died in slavery. Among these was Daniel Mason, a graduate of Harvard University, and the earliest of that name on the Catalogue; also, James Ellson, the mate. The latter, in a testamentary letter to his wife, dated at Algiers, June 30, 1679, desires her to redeem out of captivity two of his companions.[92] At the same period, William Harris, a person of consequence in the Colony, an associate of Roger Williams in the first planting of Providence, and now in the sixty-eighth year of his age, sailing from Boston for England on public business, was also taken by a corsair and carried into Algiers. On the 23d February, 1679, this veteran,—older than the slaveholder Cato, when he learned Greek,—together with all the crew, was sold into slavery. The fate of his companions is unknown; but Mr. Harris, after bearing his doom more than a year, was redeemed at the cost of twelve hundred dollars, called by him "the price of a good farm." The feelings of the Colony, touched by these disasters, are concisely expressed in a private letter dated at Boston, November 10, 1680, where it is said: "The Turks have so taken our New England ships, richly loaden, homeward bound, that it is very dangerous to goe. Many of our neighbors are now in captivity in Argeer. The Lord find out some way for their redemption!"[93] This prayer may be repeated still.

In 1693 the subject found its way before the Governor and Council of Massachusetts, on a petition from the relations of two inhabitants "some time since taken by a Sallee man-of-war, and now under Turkish captivity and slavery," for permission "to ask and receive the charity and public contribution of well-disposed persons for redeeming them out of their miserable suffering and slavery." The petition was granted on the condition, "The money so collected to be employed for the end aforesaid, unless the said persons happen to die before, make their escape, or be in any other way redeemed; then the money so gathered to be improved for the redemption of some others of this Province, that are or may be in like circumstances, as the Governor and Council shall direct."[94] Thus was the government of Massachusetts moved at that early day to emancipation.

Entering the next century, we meet a curious notice of a captive Bostonian. Under date of Tuesday, January 11, 1714, Chief-Justice Samuel Sewall, after describing in his journal a dinner with Mr. Gee, and mentioning the guests, among whom were Increase and Cotton Mather, adds: "It seems it was in remembrance of his landing this day at Boston, after his Algerine captivity. Had a good treat. Dr. Cotton Mather, in returning thanks, very well comprised many weighty things very pertinently."[95] Among the many weighty things very pertinently comprised by this eminent divine, it is hoped, was condemnation of slavery. Surely, he could not then have shrunk from giving utterance to that faith which preaches deliverance to the captive.

Leaving the imperfect records of colonial days, I descend at once to that period, almost in the light of our own times, when our National Government, justly careful of the liberty of its white citizens, was aroused to put forth all its power. The war of the Revolution closed with the acknowledgment of independence. The national flag, then freshly unfurled, and hardly known to the world, had little power to protect persons or property against outrages from the Barbary States. Within three years no less than ten American vessels became their prey. At one time an apprehension prevailed that Dr. Franklin was captured. "We are waiting," said one of his French correspondents, "with the greatest impatience to hear from you. The newspapers have given us anxiety on your account, for some of them insist that you have been taken by the Algerines, while others pretend that you are at Morocco, enduring your slavery with all the patience of a philosopher."[96] The property of our merchants was sacrificed. Insurance at Lloyd's in London could be had only at advanced rates, while it was difficult to obtain freight for American bottoms.[97] The Mediterranean trade was closed against our enterprise. To a people filled with the spirit of commerce, and bursting with new life, this in itself was disheartening; but the sufferings of unhappy fellow-citizens, captives in a distant land, awoke a feeling of a higher strain.

As from time to time these tidings reached America, a voice of horror and indignation swelled through the land. The slave-corsairs of African Barbary were branded sometimes as "infernal crews," sometimes as "human harpies."[98] This sentiment acquired new force, when, at two different periods, by the fortunate escape of captives, what seemed to be an authentic picture of their condition was presented to the world. The story of these fugitives shows the hardships of their lot, and was at the bottom of the appeal soon made to the country with such effect.

The earliest of these escapes was in 1788, by a person originally captured in a vessel from Boston. It appears, that, on being carried into Algiers, he, with the rest of the ship's company, was exposed at public auction, whence he was sent to the country-house of his purchaser. Here for eighteen months he was chained to the wheelbarrow, and allowed only one pound of bread a day, during all which wretched period he had no opportunity of learning the fate of his companions. From the country he was removed to Algiers, where, in a numerous company of white slaves, he encountered three shipmates and twenty-six other Americans. After remaining for some time crowded together in the slave-prison, they were all distributed among the different galleys of the Dey. Our fugitive and eighteen other white slaves were put on board a xebec, carrying eight six-pounders and sixty men, which, while cruising on the coast of Malta, encountered an armed vessel of Genoa, and, after much bloodshed, was taken, sword in hand. Eleven of the unfortunate slaves, compelled to this unwelcome service in the cause of a tyrannical master, were killed before the triumph of the Genoese could deliver them from chains. Our countryman and the few remaining alive were at once set at liberty, and, it is said, "treated with that humanity which distinguishes the Christian from the barbarian."[99] Such is the testimony.

This escape was followed the next year by others, achieved under circumstances widely different. A ship from Philadelphia was captured near the Western Islands and taken into Algiers. The crew of twenty-two were doomed to bondage. The larger part were sent into the country and chained to work with mules. Others were put on board a galley and chained to the oars. The latter, tempted by facilities of position near the sea, made attempts to escape, which, for a time, proved fruitless. At last, love of freedom triumphing over suggestions of humanity, they rose upon their overseers, killing some and confining others, then, seizing a small galley of their masters, set sail for Gibraltar, where in a few hours they landed as freemen.[100] Thus, by killing their keepers and carrying off property not their own, did these fugitive white slaves achieve their liberty.

AMERICAN EFFORTS AGAINST WHITE SLAVERY.

Such stories could not be recounted in vain. Glimpses opened into the dread regions of Slavery gave a harrowing reality to all that conjecture or imagination pictured. It was, indeed, true, that our own white brethren, heirs to freedom newly purchased by precious blood, partakers in the sovereignty of citizenship, belonging to the fellowship of the Christian Church, were degraded to do the will of an arbitrary taskmaster, sold as beasts of the field, galled by manacle and driven by lash! It was true that they were held at market prices, and that their only chance of freedom was in the earnest, energetic, united efforts of their countrymen. It is not easy to comprehend the exact condition to which they were reduced. There is no reason to believe that it differed materially from that of other captives in Algiers. Masters of vessels were lodged together, and indulged with a table by themselves, though a small iron ring was attached to one of their legs, to denote that they were slaves. Seamen were taught and obliged to work at the trade of carpenter, blacksmith, or stone-mason, from six in the morning till four in the afternoon, without intermission, except for half an hour at dinner.[101] Doubtless there is exaggeration in the accounts transmitted to us. It is, however, sufficient to know that they were slaves; nor is there any other human condition which, when barely mentioned, even without one word of description, so strongly awakens the sympathies of every just and enlightened lover of his race.

To secure their freedom, informal agencies were promptly established under the direction of our minister at Paris; and the Society of Redemption—whose beneficent exertions, commencing so early in modern history, were still continued—offered their aid. Our agents were blandly entertained by that great slave-dealer, the Dey of Algiers, who informed them that he was familiar with the exploits of Washington, and, never expecting to see him, expressed a hope, that, through Congress, he might receive a full-length portrait of this hero of freedom, to be displayed in his palace at Algiers. The Dey clung to his American slaves, holding them at prices considered exorbitant, being, in 1786, $6,000 for the master of a vessel, $4,000 for a mate, $4,000 for a passenger, and $1,400 for a seaman; while the agents were authorized to offer only $200 for each.[102] In 1790 the tariff seems to have fallen. Meanwhile one obtained his freedom through private means, others escaped, and others still were liberated by the great liberator, Death. The following list, if not interesting from the names of the captives, will at least be curious as evidence of prices at that time in the slave-market.

Crew of the Ship Dolphin, of Philadelphia, captured July 30, 1785.

Crew of the Schooner Maria, of Boston, captured July 25, 1785.

In 1793 no less than one hundred and fifteen of our fellow-citizens were groaning in Algerine slavery. Their condition excited the fraternal feeling of the whole people, while it occupied the anxious attention of Congress and the prayers of the clergy. A petition from these unhappy persons, dated at Algiers, December 29, 1793, was addressed to Congress. "Your petitioners," it says, "are at present captives in this city of bondage, employed daily in the most laborious work, without any respect to persons. They pray that you will take their unfortunate situation into consideration, and adopt such measures as will restore the American captives to their country, their friends, families, and connections; and your most humble petitioners will ever pray and be thankful."[104] The action of Congress was sluggish, compared with the patriot desires throbbing through the country.

Appeals of a different character were now addressed to the country at large, and these were efficiently aided by Colonel Humphreys, the friend and companion of Washington, who was at the time our minister in Portugal. Taking advantage of the common passion for lotteries, and particularly of the custom, not then condemned, of employing them to obtain money for literary or benevolent purposes, he proposed a grand lottery, sanctioned by the United States, or particular lotteries sanctioned by individual States, to obtain the freedom of our countrymen. He then asks, "Is there within the limits of these United States an individual who will not cheerfully contribute, in proportion to his means, to carry it into effect? By the peculiar blessings of freedom which you enjoy, by the disinterested sacrifices you made for its attainment, by the patriotic blood of those martyrs of liberty who died to secure your independence, and by all the tender ties of nature, let me conjure you once more to snatch your unfortunate countrymen from fetters, dungeons, and death."

This appeal was followed by a petition from American captives in Algiers, addressed to ministers of every denomination throughout the United States, praying help. Beginning with an allusion to the day of national thanksgiving appointed by President Washington, it asks the clergy to set apart the Sunday preceding that day for sermons, to be delivered simultaneously throughout the country, pleading for their brethren in bonds.

"Reverend and Respected,—

"On Thursday, the 19th of February, 1795, you are enjoined by the President of the United States of America to appear in the various temples of that God who heareth the groaning of the prisoner, and in mercy remembereth those who are appointed to die.

"Nor are ye to assemble alone; for on this, the high day of continental thanksgiving, all the religious societies and denominations throughout the Union, and all persons whomsoever within the limits of the confederated States, are to enter the courts of Jehovah, with their several pastors, and gratefully to render unfeigned thanks to the Ruler of Nations for the manifold and signal mercies which distinguish your lot as a people: in a more particular manner, commemorating your exemption from foreign war; being greatly thankful for the preservation of peace at home and abroad; and fervently beseeching the kind Author of all these blessings graciously to prolong them to you, and finally to render the United States of America more and more an asylum for the unfortunate of every clime under heaven.

"Reverend and Respected,—

"Most fervent are our daily prayers, breathed in the sincerity of woes unspeakable, most ardent are the embittered aspirations of our afflicted spirits, that thus it may be in deed and in truth. Although we are prisoners in a foreign land, although we are far, very far, from our native homes, although our harps are hung upon the weeping-willows of Slavery, nevertheless America is still preferred above our chiefest joy, and the last wish of our departing souls shall be her peace, her prosperity, her liberty forever. On this day, the day of festivity and gladness, remember us, your unfortunate brethren, late members of the family of freedom, now doomed to perpetual confinement. Pray, earnestly pray, that our grievous calamities may have a gracious end. Supplicate the Father of Mercies for the most wretched of his offspring. Beseech the God of all Consolation to comfort us by the hope of final restoration. Implore the Jesus whom you worship to open the house of the prison. Entreat the Christ whom you adore to let the miserable captives go free.

"Reverend and Respected,—

"It is not your prayers alone, although of much avail, which we beg on the bending knee of sufferance, galled by the corroding fetters of slavery. We conjure you by the bowels of the mercies of the Almighty, we ask you in the name of your Father in Heaven, to have compassion on our miseries, to wipe away the crystallized tears of despondence, to hush the heartfelt sigh of distress, and, by every possible exertion of godlike charity, to restore us to our wives, to our children, to our friends, to our God and to yours.

"Is it possible that a stimulus can be wanting? Forbid it, the example of a dying, bleeding, crucified Saviour! Forbid it, the precepts of a risen, ascended, glorified Immanuel! Do unto us in fetters, in bonds, in dungeons, in danger of the pestilence, as ye yourselves would wish to be done unto. Lift up your voices like a trumpet; cry aloud in the cause of humanity, benevolence, philosophy: eloquence can never be directed to a nobler purpose; religion never employed in a more glorious cause; charity never meditate a more exalted flight. Oh that a live coal from the burning altar of celestial beneficence might warm the hearts of the sacred order, and impassion the feelings of the attentive hearer!

"Gentlemen of the Clergy in New Hampshire, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, New York, Pennsylvania, and Virginia,—

"Your most zealous exertions, your unremitting assiduities, are pathetically invoked. Those States in which you minister unto the Church of God gave us birth. We are as aliens from the commonwealth of America. We are strangers to the temples of our God. The strong arm of infidelity hath bound us with two chains; the iron one of slavery and the sword of death are entering our very souls. Arise, ye ministers of the Most High, Christians of every denomination, awake unto charity! Let a brief, setting forth our hapless situation, be published throughout the continent. Be it read in every house of worship on Sunday, the 8th of February. Command a preparatory discourse to be delivered on Sunday, the 15th of February, in all churches whithersoever this petition or the brief may come; and on Thursday, the 19th of February, complete the godlike work. It is a day which assembles a continent to thanksgiving; it is a day which calls an empire to praise. God grant, that this may be the day which emancipates the forlorn captive, and may the best blessings of those who are ready to perish be your abiding portion forever! Thus prays a small remnant who are still alive; thus pray your fellow-citizens, chained to the galleys of the impostor Mahomet.

"Signed for and in behalf of his fellow-sufferers by

"Richard O'Brien,

"In the tenth year of his captivity."[105]

The cause which inspired this appeal will indispose the candid reader to any criticism of its exuberant language. Like the drama of Cervantes setting forth the horrors of the galleys of Algiers, it was "not drawn from the imagination, but was born far from the regions of fiction, in the very heart of truth."[106] Its earnest appeals were calculated to touch the soul, and to make the very name of slavery and slave-dealer detestable.

PARALLEL BETWEEN SLAVERY IN ALGIERS AND IN OUR OWN COUNTRY.

I should do injustice to truth, if I did not suspend for one moment the narrative of this Anti-Slavery movement, to exhibit the pointed parallel then recognized between slavery in Algiers and slavery in our own country. It belongs to this history. Conscience could not plead for the emancipation of white fellow-citizens, without confessing in the heart, perhaps to the world, that every consideration, every argument, every appeal for the white man, told with equal force for the wretched colored brother in bonds. Thus the interest awakened for the slave in Algiers embraced also the slave at home. Sometimes they were said to be alike in condition; sometimes, indeed, it was openly declared that the horrors of our American slavery surpassed that of Algiers.

John Wesley, the oracle of Methodism, who had become familiar with slavery in our Southern States, addressing those engaged in the negro slave-trade, declared as early as 1774: "You have carried the survivors into the vilest slavery, never to end but with life,—such slavery as is not found among the Turks at Algiers."[107] Another writer in 1794, when sympathy with the American captives was at its height, presses the parallel in pungent terms. "For this practice of buying and selling slaves," he says, "we are not entitled to charge the Algerines with any exclusive degree of barbarity. The Christians of Europe and America carry on this commerce one hundred times more extensively than the Algerines. It has received a recent sanction from the immaculate Divan of Britain. Nobody seems even to be surprised by a diabolical kind of advertisements which for some months past have frequently adorned the newspapers of Philadelphia. The French fugitives from the West Indies have brought with them a crowd of slaves. These most injured people sometimes run off, and their master advertises a reward for apprehending them. At the same time we are commonly informed that his sacred name is marked in capitals on their breasts,—or, in plainer terms, it is stamped on that part of the body with a red-hot iron. Before, therefore, we reprobate the ferocity of the Algerines, we should inquire whether it is not possible to find in some other region of this globe a systematic brutality still more disgraceful."[108]

Not long after the address to the clergy by the captives in Algiers, a voice came from New Hampshire, in a tract entitled "Tyrannical Libertymen, a Discourse upon Negro Slavery in the United States, composed at —— in New Hampshire on the late Federal Thanksgiving Day,"[109] which does not hesitate to brand American slavery in terms of glowing reprobation. "There was a contribution upon this day," it says, "for the purpose of redeeming those Americans who are in slavery at Algiers,—an object worthy of a generous people. Their redemption, we hope, is not far distant. But should any person contribute money for this purpose which he had cudgelled out of a negro slave, he would deserve less applause than an actor in the comedy of Las Casas.... When will Americans show that they are what they affect to be thought,—friends to the cause of humanity at large, reverers of the rights of their fellow-creatures? Hitherto we have been oppressors, nay, murderers!—for many a negro has died by the whip of his master, and many have lived when death would have been preferable. Surely the curse of God and the reproach of man is against us. Worse than the seven plagues of Egypt will befall us. If Algiers shall be punished seven fold, truly America seventy and seven fold." These words might not impertinently be uttered in our present debates.

To this excitement we are indebted for the story of "The Algerine Captive," which, though now forgotten, was among the earliest literary productions of our country, reprinted in London at a time when few American books were known abroad. Published anonymously, it is recognized as from the pen of Royall Tyler, afterwards Chief Justice of Vermont. In the form of a narrative of personal adventures, extending through two volumes, a slave of Algiers depicts the horrors of his condition. In this regard it is not unlike the recent story of "Archy Moore," displaying the horrors of American slavery. The narrator, while engaged as surgeon on board a ship in the African slave-trade, has an opportunity which he does not neglect. After describing the reception of the poor negroes, he says: "I cannot reflect on this transaction yet, without shuddering. I have deplored my conduct with tears of anguish; and I pray a merciful God, the Common Parent of the great family of the universe, who hath made of one flesh and one blood all nations of the earth, that the miseries, the insults, and cruel woundings I afterwards received, when a slave myself, may expiate for the inhumanity I was necessitated to exercise towards these my brethren of the human race."[110] He further records his meditations and resolves, while yet a captive of the Algerines. "Grant me," he says, from the depths of his own misfortune, "once more to taste the freedom of my native country, and every moment of my life shall be dedicated to preaching against this detestable commerce. I will fly to our fellow-citizens in the Southern States; I will, on my knees, conjure them, in the name of humanity, to abolish a traffic which causes it to bleed in every pore. If they are deaf to the pleadings of Nature, I will conjure them, for the sake of consistency, to cease to deprive their fellow-creatures of freedom, which their writers, their orators, representatives, senators, and even their constitutions of government, have declared to be the unalienable birthright of man."[111] This is sound and significant.

Not merely in the productions of literature and in fugitive essays was such comparison presented; it was set forth on an important occasion in the history of our country, by one of her most illustrious citizens. The opportunity occurred in a complaint against England for carrying away from New York certain negroes, in alleged violation of the treaty of 1783. In an elaborate paper, John Jay, at that time Secretary for Foreign Affairs under the Confederation, says: "Whether men can be so degraded, as, under any circumstances, to be with propriety denominated goods and chattels, and under that idea capable of becoming booty, is a question on which opinions are unfortunately various, even in countries professing Christianity and respect for the rights of mankind." He then proceeds in words worthy of special remembrance at this time: "If a war should take place between France and Algiers, and in the course of it France should invite the American slaves there to run away from their masters, and actually receive and protect them in their camp, what would Congress, and indeed the world, think and say of France, if, on making peace with Algiers, she should give up those American slaves to their former Algerine masters? Is there any other difference between the two cases than this, namely, that the American slaves at Algiers are WHITE people, whereas the African slaves at New York were BLACK people?" Introducing these sentiments, the Secretary remarks: "He is aware he is about to say unpopular things; but higher motives than personal considerations press him to proceed."[112] Words worthy of John Jay!

The same comparison was also instituted by the Abolition Society of Pennsylvania, in an address to the Convention which framed the National Constitution. "The sufferings of our American brethren groaning in captivity at Algiers," it says, "Providence seems to have ordained to awaken us to a sentiment of the injustice and cruelty of which we are guilty towards the wretched Africans."[113] Shortly afterwards it was again brought forward by Dr. Franklin, in an ingenious apologue, with all his peculiar humor, simplicity, logic, and humanity. As President of the same Abolition Society which had already addressed the Convention, he signed a memorial to the earliest Congress under the Constitution, praying it "to countenance the restoration of liberty to those unhappy men who alone in this land of freedom are degraded into perpetual bondage," and to "step to the very verge of the power vested in them for discouraging every species of traffic in the persons of our fellow-men."[114] In the congressional debates on the presentation of this memorial,—memorable not only for its intrinsic importance as a guide to the country, but as the final public act of a chief among the founders of our national institutions,—several attempts were made to justify slavery and the slave-trade. The last and almost dying energies of Franklin were excited. In a remarkable document, written only twenty-four days before his death, and published in the journals of the time, he gave a parody of a speech actually delivered in Congress,—transferring the scene to Algiers, and putting the congressional eloquence in the mouth of a corsair slave-dealer, inveighing before the Divan against a petition from the Purists or Abolitionists of Algiers. All the arguments adduced in favor of negro slavery are applied by the Algerine orator with equal force to justify the plunder and enslavement of whites.[115] With this protest against a great wrong, Franklin died.

Most certainly we are aided in appreciation of American slavery, when we know that it was likened, by characters like Wesley, Jay, and Franklin, to the abomination of slavery in Algiers. But whatever may have been the influence of this parallel on the condition of the black slaves, it did not check the rising sentiments of the people against White Slavery.

UNITED STATES AROUSED AGAINST WHITE SLAVERY.

The country was aroused. A general contribution was proposed. The cause of our brethren was pleaded in churches, and not forgotten at the festive board. At all public celebrations, the toasts "Happiness for all" and "Universal Liberty," were proposed, not more in sympathy with Frenchmen struggling for human rights than with our own wretched white fellow-countrymen in bonds. On one occasion[116] they were distinctly remembered in the following toast: "Our brethren in slavery at Algiers. May the measures adopted for their redemption be successful, and may they live to rejoice with their friends in the blessings of liberty!" Generous words, apt for all in bonds!

Meanwhile the efforts of the National Government continued. President Washington, in his speech to Congress, delivered in person to both houses in the Representatives' Chamber, December 8, 1795, said: "With peculiar satisfaction I add, that information has been received from an agent deputed on our part to Algiers, importing that the terms of the treaty with the Dey and Regency of that country had been adjusted in such a manner as to authorize the expectation of a speedy peace, and the restoration of our unfortunate fellow-citizens from a grievous captivity."[117] This was effected on the 5th of September, 1795. It was a treaty full of humiliation for the "chivalry" of our country. Besides securing a large sum of money to the Algerine government in consideration of present peace and the liberation of captives, it stipulated an annual tribute of "twelve thousand Algerine sequins in maritime stores."[118] But feelings of pride disappeared in heartfelt satisfaction. A thrill of joy went through the land, when it was announced that a vessel had left Algiers, having on board all the American captives, now happily at liberty. Their emancipation was purchased at the cost of more than seven hundred thousand dollars. The largess of money, and even the indignity of tribute, were forgotten in gratulations on their new-found happiness. The President, in his speech to Congress, delivered in person, December 7, 1796, presented their "actual liberation" as a special subject of joy to "every feeling heart."[119] Thus did the National Government construct a bridge of gold for Freedom.

This act of national generosity was followed by peace with Tripoli, purchased, November 4, 1796, for the sum of fifty-six thousand dollars,—"$48,000 in cash, $8,000 in presents,"[120]—under the guaranty of the Dey of Algiers, who was declared to be "the mutual friend of the parties." By an article in this treaty, negotiated by Joel Barlow,—out of tenderness, perhaps to Mahometanism, and to save our citizens from that slavery which was regarded as the just doom of "Christian dogs,"—it was expressly declared that "the Government of the United States of America is not in any sense founded on the Christian religion."[121] By a treaty with Tunis, purchased after some delay, but at a smaller price than that with Tripoli, all danger to our citizens seemed to be averted. Here it was ignominiously provided, that fugitive slaves, taking refuge on board American merchant vessels, and even vessels of war, should be restored to their owners.[122]

As early as 1787 a more liberal treaty was entered into with Morocco, which was confirmed in 1795,[123] at the price of twenty thousand dollars; while, by a treaty with Spain, in 1799, this slave-trading empire expressly declared its "desire that the name of Slavery might be effaced from the memory of man."[124]

But these governments were barbarous, faithless, regardless of humanity and justice. Promises with them were evanescent. As in the days of Charles the Second, treaties were made merely to be broken. They were observed only so long as money was derived under their stipulations. Soon again our growing commerce was fatally vexed by the Barbary corsairs; even the ships of our navy were subjected to peculiar indignities. In 1801 the Bey of Tripoli formally declared war against the United States, and in token thereof "our flag-staff [before the consulate] was chopped down six feet from the ground, and left reclining on the terrace."[125] American citizens once more became the prize of man-stealers. Colonel Humphreys, now at home in retirement, came out in an address to the public, calling again for united action, saying: "Americans of the United States, your fellow-citizens are in fetters! Can there be but one feeling? Where are the gallant remnants of the race who fought for freedom? Where the glorious heirs of their patriotism? Will there never be a truce between political parties? Or must it forever be the fate of Free States, that the soft voice of union should be drowned in the hoarse clamor of discord? No! Let every friend of blessed humanity and sacred freedom entertain a better hope and confidence."[126] Colonel Humphreys was not a statesman only; he was known as poet also. And in this character he made another appeal. In a poem on "The Future Glory of the United States," he breaks forth into indignant condemnation of slavery, which deserves commemoration, and, whatever may be the merits of its verse, should not be omitted here.

The people and Government responded. And here commenced those early deeds by which our navy became known in Europe. Through a reverse of shipwreck rather than war, the frigate Philadelphia fell into the hands of the Tripolitans. A daring act of Decatur burned it under the guns of the enemy. Other feats of hardihood ensued. A romantic expedition by General Eaton, from Alexandria, in Egypt, across the Desert of Libya, captured Derne. Three several times Tripoli was attacked, and, at last, on the 4th of June, 1805, entered into a treaty by which the freedom of three hundred American slaves was secured, on the payment of sixty thousand dollars; and it was provided, that, in the event of future war between the two countries, prisoners should not be reduced to slavery, but should be exchanged rank for rank, and if there were any deficiency on either side, it should be made up at the rate of five hundred Spanish dollars for each captain, three hundred dollars for each mate and supercargo, and one hundred dollars for each seaman.[128] Thus did our country, after successes not without what is called the glory of arms, again purchase with money the emancipation of white citizens.

The power of Tripoli was inconsiderable. That of Algiers was more formidable. It is not a little curious that the largest ship of this slave-trading state was the Crescent, of thirty-four guns, built in New Hampshire;[129] though it is hardly to the credit of our sister State that the Algerine power derived such important support from her. The lawlessness of the corsair broke forth again in the seizure of the brig Edwin, of Salem, and the enslavement of her crew. The energies of the country were at this time enlisted in war with Great Britain; but even amidst the anxieties of this important contest was heard the voice of these captives, awakening a corresponding sentiment throughout the land, until the Government was prompted to their release. Through Mr. Noah, recently appointed consul at Tunis, it offered to purchase their freedom at three thousand dollars a head.[130] The answer of the Dey, repeated on several occasions, was, that "not for two millions of dollars would he sell his American slaves."[131] The timely treaty of Ghent, establishing peace with Great Britain, left us at liberty to deal with this enslaver of our countrymen. At once a naval force was despatched to the Mediterranean, under approved officers, Commodores Bainbridge and Decatur. The rapidity of their movements and their striking success had the desired effect. In December, 1816, a treaty was extorted from the Dey of Algiers, by which, after abandoning all claim to tribute in any form, he delivered his American captives, ten in number, without ransom, and stipulated that hereafter no Americans should be made slaves or forced to hard labor, and, still further, that "any Christians whatsoever, captives in Algiers," making their escape, and taking refuge on board an American ship of war, should be safe from all requisition or reclamation.[132]

Decatur walked his deck with impatient earnestness, awaiting the promised signature of the treaty. "Is the treaty signed?" he cried to the captain of the port and the Swedish consul, as they reached the GuerriÈre with a white flag of truce. "It is," replied the Swede; and the treaty was placed in the hands of the brave commander. "Are the prisoners in the boat?" "They are." "Every one of them?" "Every one, Sir." The captive Americans now came forward to greet and bless their deliverer.[133] Here, on a smaller scale, was the same scene which had given such satisfaction to the Emperor Charles the Fifth at Tunis. Surely this moment, when he looked upon emancipated fellow-countrymen and thought how much he had contributed to overthrow the relentless system of bondage under which they had groaned, must have been one of the sweetest in the life of our hardy son of the sea. But should I not say, even here, that there is now a citizen of Massachusetts, who, without army or navy, by a simple act of self-renunciation, has given freedom to a larger number of Christian American slaves than was liberated by the sword of Decatur? Of course I refer to Mr. Palfrey.

Not by money, but by arms, was emancipation this time secured. The country was grateful for the result,—though the poor freedmen, engulfed in unknown wastes of ocean, on their glad passage home, were never able to mingle joys with their fellow-citizens. They were on board the Épervier, of which no trace ever appeared. Nor did the people feel the melancholy mockery of the National Government, which, having weakly declared that it was "not in any sense founded on the Christian religion," now expressly confined the protecting power of its flag to fugitive "Christians, captives in Algiers," leaving slaves of another faith, escaping even from Algiers, to be snatched as between the horns of the altar and returned to continued horrors.

WHITE SLAVERY ABOLISHED BY AN ENGLISH FLEET.

The success of American arms was followed by a more signal triumph of Great Britain, acting generously in behalf of all the Christian powers. Her expedition was debated, perhaps prompted, in the Congress of Vienna, where, after the overthrow of Napoleon, the brilliant representatives of European nations, with the monarchs of Austria, Prussia, and Russia in attendance, considered how to adjust the disordered balance of empire, and to remedy evils through joint action. Among many high concerns was the project of a crusade against the Barbary States, to accomplish the complete abolition of Christian slavery. For this purpose, it was proposed to form "a holy league," which was earnestly enforced by a memoir from Sir Sidney Smith,[134] the same who foiled Napoleon at Acre, and at this time president of an association called the "Knights Liberators of the White Slaves in Africa,"—in our day it would be called an Abolition Society,—thus adding to the doubtful laurels of war the true glory of striving for the freedom of his fellow-man.

Though not adopted by the Congress, this project awakened a generous echo. Various advocates appeared in its support; and what the Congress failed to undertake was now especially urged upon Great Britain by the agents of Spain and Portugal, who insisted, that, because this nation had abolished the trade in blacks, it was her duty to extinguish the slavery of whites.[135]

A scandalous impediment seemed to interfere, showing itself in a common belief that the obstructions from the Barbary States were advantageous to British commerce by thwarting and strangling that of other countries, and that therefore Great Britain, ever anxious for commercial supremacy, would do nothing for their overthrow,—the love of trade prevailing over the love of man.[136] This imputation of sordid selfishness, willing to coin money out of the lives and liberties of fellow-Christians, was soon answered.

At the beginning of the year 1816, Lord Exmouth, already distinguished in the British navy as Sir Edward Pellew, was despatched with a squadron to Algiers. By general orders bearing date March 21, 1816, he announced the object of his expedition as follows.

"He has been instructed and directed by his Royal Highness, the Prince Regent, to proceed with the fleet to Algiers,

and there make certain arrangements for diminishing, at least, the piratical excursions of the Barbary States, by which thousands of our fellow-creatures, innocently following their commercial pursuits, have been dragged into the most wretched and revolting state of slavery.

"The commander-in-chief is confident that this outrageous system of piracy and slavery rouses in common the same spirit of indignation which he himself feels; and should the government of Algiers refuse the reasonable demands he bears from the Prince Regent, he doubts not but the flag will be honorably and zealously supported by every officer and man under his command, in his endeavors to procure the acceptation of them by force; and if force must be resorted to, we have the consolation of knowing that we fight in the sacred cause of humanity, and cannot fail of success."[137]

The moderate object of his mission was readily obtained. "Arrangements for diminishing the piratical excursions of the Barbary States" were established. Ionian slaves, claimed as British subjects, were released, and peace was secured for Naples and Sardinia,—the former paying for subjects liberated five hundred dollars a head, and the latter three hundred dollars. This was at Algiers. Lord Exmouth proceeded next to Tunis and Tripoli, where, acting beyond his instructions, he obtained from both these piratical governments the promise to abolish Christian slavery within their respective dominions. In one of his letters on this event he says, that, in pressing these concessions, he "acted solely on his own responsibility and without orders,—the causes and reasoning on which, upon general principles, may be defensible, but, as applying to our own country, may not be borne out, the old mercantile interest being against it."[138] It is curious to recall a similar distrust excited in another age by a similar achievement. Admiral Blake, after his attack upon Tunis, appealed to the government of Cromwell, in words applicable to the recent occasion, saying: "And now, seeing it hath pleased God soe signally to justify us herein, I hope His Highness will not be offended at it, nor any who regard duely the honor of our nation, although I expect to heare of many complaints and clamors of interested men."[139] Thus, more than once, in these efforts to abolish White Slavery, did Commerce, daughter of Freedom, fall under suspicion of disloyalty to her parent.

Lord Exmouth did injustice to the moral sense of England. His conduct was sustained and applauded, not only in the House of Commons, but by the country at large. He was sent back to Algiers—which had failed to make any general renunciation of White Slavery—to extort this stipulation by force. British historians regard this expedition with peculiar pride. In all the annals of their triumphant navy there is none where the barbarism of war seems so much to "smooth its wrinkled front." With a fleet complete at all points, the good Admiral set sail July 25, 1816, on what was deemed a holy war. With five line-of-battle ships, five frigates, four bomb-vessels, and five gun-brigs, besides a Dutch fleet of five frigates and a corvette, under Admiral Van Capellen,—who, on learning the object of the expedition, solicited and obtained leave to coÖperate, he anchored before the formidable fortifications of Algiers. It would not be agreeable or instructive to dwell on the scene of desolation and blood which ensued. Before night the fleet fired, besides shells and rockets, one hundred and eighteen tons of powder, and fifty thousand shot, weighing more than five hundred tons. The citadel and massive batteries of Algiers were shattered and crumbled to ruins. Storehouses, ships, and gunboats were in flames, while the blazing lightnings of battle were answered by the lightnings of heaven in a storm of signal fury. The power of the Great Slave-dealer was humbled.

The terms of submission were announced to his fleet in an order of the Admiral, dated, Queen Charlotte, Algiers Bay, August 30, 1816, which may be read with truer pleasure than any other in military or naval history.

"The commander-in-chief is happy to inform the fleet of the final termination of their strenuous exertions, by the signature of peace, confirmed under a salute of twenty-one guns, on the following conditions, dictated by his Royal Highness, the Prince Regent of England.

"I. The abolition of Christian slavery forever.

"II. The delivery to my flag of all slaves in the dominions of the Dey, to whatever nation they may belong, at noon to-morrow.

"III. To deliver also to my flag all money received by him for the redemption of slaves since the commencement of this year, at noon also to-morrow."[140]

On the next day upwards of twelve hundred slaves were emancipated, making, with those liberated in his earlier expedition, more than three thousand, whom, by address or force, Lord Exmouth delivered from bondage.[141]

Thus ended White Slavery in the Barbary States. Already it had died out in Morocco. Quietly it had been renounced by Tripoli and Tunis. Its last retreat was Algiers, whence it was driven amidst the thunder of the British cannon.

Signal honors awaited the Admiral. He was elevated to a new rank in the peerage, and on his coat-of-arms was emblazoned a figure never before known in heraldry,—a Christian slave holding aloft the cross and dropping his broken fetters.[142] From the officers of the squadron he received a costly service of plate, with an inscription, in testimony of "the memorable victory gained at Algiers, where the great cause of Christian freedom was bravely fought and nobly accomplished."[143] Higher far than honor were the rich personal satisfactions he derived from the beneficent cause in which he was enlisted. In a despatch to the Government, describing the battle, he says, in words which may be felt by others, warring for the overthrow of slavery: "In all the vicissitudes of a long life of public service, no circumstance has ever produced on my mind such impressions of gratitude and joy as the event of yesterday. To have been one of the humble instruments in the hands of Divine Providence for bringing to reason a ferocious government, and destroying forever the insufferable and horrid system of Christian slavery, can never cease to be a source of delight and heartfelt comfort to every individual happy enough to be employed in it."[144]

The reverses of Algiers did not end here. Christian slavery was abolished; but in 1830 the insolence of this barbarian government awoke the vengeance of France to take military possession of the whole country. Algiers capitulated, the Dey abdicated, and this considerable power became a French colony.

Thus I have endeavored to present what I could glean in various fields on the history of White Slavery in the Barbary States,—often employing the words of others, as they seemed best calculated to convey the scene, incident, or sentiment which I wished to preserve. So doing, I have occupied much time; but I may find my apology in the words of an English chronicler. "Algier," he says, "were altogether unworthy so long discourse, were not the unworthinesse most worthy our consideration: I meane the cruell abuse of the Christian name, which let us, for inciting our zeale and exciting our charitie and thankfulnes, more deeply weigh, to releeve those there in miseries (as we may) with our paynes, prayers, purses, and all the best mediations."[145] To exhibit the crime of slavery is in itself sufficient motive for any exertion.

III.

WHITE SLAVERY ILLUSTRATED BY EXAMPLES.

By natural transition I am now brought to inquire into the true character of the evil whose history has been traced. Here I shall be brief.

Slavery in the Barbary States is denounced as an unquestionable outrage upon humanity and justice. In this judgment nobody hesitates. Our liveliest sympathies attend these white brethren,—torn from homes, the ties of family and friendship rudely severed, parent separated from child and husband from wife, exposed at public sale like cattle, and dependent, like cattle, upon the uncertain will of an arbitrary taskmaster. We read of a "gentleman" compelled to be valet of the barbarian emperor of Morocco;[146] and Calderon, the pride of the Spanish stage, has depicted the miserable fate of a Portuguese prince, degraded by the infidel Moor to carry water in a garden. But the lowly in condition had their unrecorded sorrows, whose sum-total swells to a fearful amount. Who can tell how many hearts have been wrung by the pangs of separation, how many crushed by the comfortless despair of interminable bondage? "Speaking as a Christian," says the good Catholic father who has chronicled much of this misery, "if on the earth there can be any condition which in its character and evils may represent in any manner the dolorous Passion of the Son of God (which exceeded all evils and torments, because by it the Lord suffered every kind of evil and affliction), it is, beyond question and doubt, none other than slavery and captivity in Algiers and Barbary, whose infinite evils, terrible torments, miseries without number, afflictions without mitigation, it is impossible to comprehend in a brief span of time."[147] When we consider the author's character as a father of the Catholic Church, it will be felt that language can no further go. The details of the picture may be seen in the report of another Catholic father at a later day, who furnishes a chapter on the condition of Christian slaves in Morocco. Their torments are depicted: constrained to work at all hours, without days of rest, without proper food; sometimes the diversion of their master, "who makes their labor his rest and their sufferings his pleasure"; subject at all times to his capricious will, and the victims of horrid cruelty. One is described who was cast naked to the dogs, but, amidst the torments he endured, exhorted his fellow-captives to have patience, "telling them that Jesus Christ had suffered much more for them and for him";—saying this, he gathered up his bowels, which he drew from the mouths of the dogs, till, his strength failing him, he expired, and they devoured him. "I should never have done," says the father, "did I go about to relate here all that the merchants and captives told us of cruelties, they are so excessive."[148]

In nothing are impiety and blasphemy more apparent than in the auctions of human beings, where men are sold to the highest bidder. Through the personal experience of a young English merchant, Abraham Brown, afterwards a settler in Massachusetts, we learn how these were conducted. In 1655, before the liberating power of Cromwell was acknowledged, he was captured, together with a whole crew, and carried into Sallee. His own words, in his memoirs still preserved, will best tell his story.

"On landing," he says, "an exceeding great company of most dismal spectators were led to behold us in our captivated condition. There was liberty for all sorts to come and look on us, that whosoever had a mind to buy any of us, on the day appointed for our sale together in the market, might see, as I may say, what they would like to have for their money; whereby we had too many comfortless visitors, both from the town and country, one saying he would buy this man, and the other that man. To comfort us, we were told by the Christian slaves already there, if we met with such and such patrons, our usage would not be so bad as we supposed; though, indeed, our men found the usage of the best bad enough. Fresh victuals and bread were supplied, I suppose to feed us up for the market, that we might be in some good plight against the day we were to be sold.

"And now I come to speak of our being sold into this doleful slavery. It was doleful in respect to the time and manner. As to the time, it was on our Sabbath day, in the morning, about the time the people of God were about to enjoy the liberty of God's house: this was the time our bondage was confirmed. Again, it was sad in respect to the manner of our selling. Being all of us brought into the market-place, we were led about, two or three at a time, in the midst of a great concourse of people, both from the town and country, who had a full sight of us, and if that did not satisfy, they would come and feel of your hand and look into your mouth to see whether you are sound in health, or to see by the hardness of your hand whether you have been a laborer or not. The manner of buying is this: he that bids the greatest price hath you,—they bidding one upon another, until the highest has you for a slave, whoever he is, or wherever he dwells.

"As concerning myself, being brought to the market in the weakest condition of any of our men, I was led forth among the cruel multitude to be sold. As yet being undiscovered what I was, I was like to have been sold at a very low rate, not above fifteen pounds sterling, whereas our ordinary seamen were sold for thirty pounds and thirty-five pounds sterling, and two boys were sold for forty pounds apiece; and being in this sad posture led up and down at least one hour and an half, during which time a Dutchman, that was our carpenter, discovered me to some Jews, they increased from fifteen to seventy-five pounds, which was the price my patron gave for me, being three hundred ducats; and had I not been so weakened, and in these rags (indeed, I made myself more so than I was, for sometimes, as they led me, I pretended I could not go, and did often sit down),—I say, had not these things been, in all likelihood I had been sold for as much again in the market, and thus I had been dearer, and the difficulty greater to be redeemed. During the time of my being led up and down the market, I was possessed with the greatest fears, not knowing who my patron might be. I feared it might be one from the country, who would carry me where I could not return, or it might be one in and about Sallee, of which we had sad accounts, and many other distracting thoughts I had. And though I was like to have been sold unto the most cruel man in Sallee, there being but one piece-of-eight between him and my patron, yet the Lord was pleased to cause him to buy me, of whom I may speak, to the glory of God, as the kindest man in the place."[149]

This is the story of a respectable person, little distinguished in the world. But the slave-dealer applied his inexorable system without distinction of persons.

ST. VINCENT DE PAUL A SLAVE.

The experience of St. Vincent de Paul did not differ from that of Abraham Brown. That illustrious character, admired, beloved, and worshipped by large circles of mankind, has also left a record of his sale as a slave.

"Their proceedings at our sale," he says, "were as follows. After we had been stripped, they gave to each one of us a pair of drawers, a linen coat, with a cap, and paraded us through the city of Tunis, whither they had come expressly to sell us. Having made us take five or six turns through the city, with the chain at our necks, they conducted us back to the boat, that the merchants might come and see who could eat well and who not, and to show that our wounds were not mortal. This done, they took us to the public square, where the merchants came to visit us, precisely as is done at the purchase of a horse or an ox, making us open our mouths to see our teeth, feeling our sides, probing our wounds, and making us walk about, trot, and run, then lift burdens, and then wrestle, in order to see the strength of each, and a thousand other sorts of brutalities."[150]

In this simple narrative what occasion for humiliation and encouragement! Well may we be humbled, that a nature so divine was subject to this cruel lot! Well may we be encouraged, as we contemplate the heights of usefulness and renown which this slave at last reached!

CERVANTES A SLAVE.

Here we may refer again to Cervantes, whose pen was dipped in his own dark experience. His "Life in Algiers" exhibits the horrors of the slave-market as it might be exhibited now. The public crier exposes for sale a father and mother with two children. They are to be sold separately, or, according to the language of our day, "in lots to suit purchasers." The father is resigned, confiding in God; the mother sobs; while the children, ignorant of the inhumanity of men, show an instinctive trust in the constant and wakeful protection of their parents,—now, alas! impotent to shield them from dire calamity. A merchant, inclining to purchase one of the children, and wishing to ascertain his bodily condition, makes him open his mouth. The child, ignorant of the destiny which awaits him, imagines that the purchaser is about to extract a tooth, and, assuring him that it does not ache, begs him to desist. The merchant, in other respects estimable enough, pays one hundred and thirty dollars for the youngest child, and the sale is completed. Thus a human being—one of those "little ones" who inspired the Saviour to say, "Of such is the kingdom of heaven"—is profanely treated as an article of merchandise, and torn from a mother's arms and a father's support. The hardening influence of custom has steeled the merchant into criminal insensibility to this violation of humanity and justice, this laceration of sacred ties, this degradation of God's image. The unconscious heartlessness of the slave-dealer and the anguish of his victims are depicted in the dialogue which ensues after the sale.

Merchant.

Come hither, child, 't is time to go to rest.

Juan.

Signor, I will not leave my mother here,
To go with any one.

Mother.

Alas! my child, thou art no longer mine,
But his who bought thee.

Juan.

What! then, have you, mother,
Forsaken me?

Mother.

O Heavens! how cruel are ye!

Merchant.

Come, hasten, boy.

Juan.

Will you go with me, brother?

Francisco.

I cannot, Juan; 't is not in my power;
May Heaven protect you, Juan!

Mother.

Oh, my child,
My joy and my delight, God won't forget thee!

Juan.

O father! mother! whither will they bear me
Away from you?

Mother.

Permit me, worthy Signor,
To speak a moment in my infant's ear?
Grant me this small contentment; very soon
I shall know nought but grief.

Merchant.

What you would say
Say now; to-night is the last time.

Mother.

To-night
Is the first time my heart e'er felt such grief.

Juan.

Pray keep me with you, mother, for I know not
Whither he'd carry me.

Mother.

Alas! poor child,
Fortune forsook thee even at thy birth.

The heavens are overcast, the elements
Are turbid, and the very sea and winds
Are all combined against me. Thou, my child,
Know'st not the dark misfortunes into which
Thou art so early plunged, but happily
Lackest the power to comprehend thy fate.
What I would crave of thee, my life, since I
Must never more be blessed with seeing thee,
Is that thou never, never wilt forget
To say, as thou wert wont, thy Ave Mary;
For that bright queen of goodness, grace, and virtue
Can loosen all thy bonds and give thee freedom.

Aydar.

Behold the wicked Christian, how she counsels
Her innocent child! You wish, then, that your child
Should, like yourself, continue still in error.

Juan.

O mother, mother, may I not remain?
And must these Moors, then, carry me away?

Mother.

With thee, my child, they rob me of my treasures.

Juan.

Oh, I am much afraid!

Mother.

'Tis I, my child,
Who ought to fear at seeing thee depart.
Thou wilt forget thy God, me, and thyself.
What else can I expect from thee, abandoned
At such a tender age amongst a people
Full of deceit and all iniquity?

Crier.

Silence, you villanous woman! if you would not
Have your head pay for what your tongue has done.[151]