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.