I've thought of nothing but the weight of 'em,
And how to throw 'em off."[72]
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]