As early as 1787, a treaty of a more liberal character had been entered into with Morocco, which was confirmed in 1795,[107] 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.[108]
But these governments were barbarous, faithless, and regardless of the duties of humanity and justice. Treaties with them were evanescent. As in the days of Charles the Second, they seemed made merely to be broken. They were observed only so long as money was derived under their stipulations. Our growing commerce was soon again fatally vexed by the Barbary corsairs, who now compelled even the ships of our navy to submit to peculiar indignities. In 1801, the Bey of Tripoli formally declared war against the United States, and in token thereof "our flagstaff [before the consulate] was chopped down six feet from the ground, and left reclining on the terrace."[109] Our citizens once more became the prize of man-stealers. Colonel Humphreys, now at home in retirement, was aroused. In an address to the public, he called 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 remains 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 clamors of discord? No! Let every friend of blessed humanity and sacred freedom entertain a better hope and confidence."[110] Colonel Humphreys was not a statesman only; he was known as a poet also. And in this character he made another appeal to his country. In a poem on "The Future Glory of the United States," he breaks forth into an indignant condemnation of slavery, which, whatever may be the merits of its verse, should not be omitted here.
Teach me curst slavery's cruel woes to paint,
Beneath whose weight our captured freemen faint!
— — — — — — — — — — — —
Where am I! Heavens! what mean these dolorous cries?
And what these horrid scenes that round me rise?
Heard ye the groans, those messengers of pain?
Heard ye the clanking of the captive's chain?
Heard ye your free-born sons their fate deplore,
Pale in their chains and laboring at the oar?
Saw ye the dungeon, in whose blackest cell,
That house of woe, your friends, your children, dwell?—
Or saw ye those who dread the torturing hour,
Crushed by the rigors of a tyrant's power?
Saw ye the shrinking slave, th' uplifted lash,
The frowning butcher, and the reddening gash?
Saw ye the fresh blood where it bubbling broke
From purple scars, beneath the grinding stroke?
Saw ye the naked limbs writhed to and fro,
In wild contortions of convulsing woe?
Felt ye the blood, with pangs alternate rolled,
Thrill through your veins and freeze with deathlike cold,
Or fire, as down the tear of pity stole,
Your manly breasts, and harrow up the soul?[111]
The people and government responded to this voice. And here commenced those early deeds by which our navy became known in Europe. The frigate Philadelphia, through a reverse of shipwreck rather than war, falling into the hands of the Tripolitans, was, by a daring act of Decatur, burned 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 3d of June, 1805, entered into a treaty, by which it was stipulated that the United States should pay sixty thousand dollars for the freedom of two hundred American slaves; and 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 by the payment of five hundred Spanish dollars for each captain, three hundred dollars for each mate and supercargo, and one hundred dollars for each seaman.[112] Thus did our country, after successes not without what is called the glory of arms, again purchase by money the emancipation of her white citizens.
The power of Tripoli was, however, 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;[113] 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 again broke forth by the seizure, in 1812, of the brig Edwin, of Salem, and the enslavement of her crew. All the energies of the country were at this time enlisted in war with Great Britain; but, even amidst the anxieties of this gigantic contest, the voice of these captives was heard, awakening a corresponding sentiment throughout the land, until the government was prompted to seek their release. Through Mr. Noah, recently appointed consul at Tunis, it offered to purchase their freedom at three thousand dollars a head.[114] The answer of the Dey, repeated on several occasions, was, that "not for two millions of dollars would he sell his American slaves."[115] The timely treaty of Ghent, in 1815, establishing peace with Great Britain, left us at liberty to deal with this enslaver of our countrymen. A naval force was promptly despatched to the Mediterranean, under Commodore Bainbridge and Commodore Decatur. The rapidity of their movements and their striking success had the desired effect. In June, 1815, 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 any ransom; and stipulated, that hereafter no Americans should be made slaves or forced to hard labor, and still further, that "any Christians whatever, captives in Algiers," making their escape and taking refuge on board an American ship of war, should be safe from all requisition or reclamation.[116]
It is related of Decatur, that he 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 Guerriere with a white flag of truce. "It is," replied the Swede; and the treaty was placed in Decatur's hands. "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.[117] Surely this moment—when he looked upon his 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 that 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 done by the sword of Decatur?
Thus, not by money, but by arms, was emancipation this time secured. The country was grateful for the result; though the poor freedmen, ingulfed in the unknown wastes of ocean, on their glad passage home, were never able to mingle joys with their fellow-citizens. They were lost in the Epervier, of which no trace has ever appeared. Nor did the people feel the melancholy mockery in the conduct of the 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 to be snatched as between the horns of the altar, and returned to the continued horrors of their lot.
The success of the American arms was followed speedily 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 the different states of Europe, in the presence of the monarchs of Austria, Prussia, and Russia, were assembled to consider the evils proper to be remedied by joint action, and to adjust the disordered balance of empire. Among many high concerns, here entertained, was the project of a crusade against the Barbary States, in order to accomplish the complete abolition of Christian slavery there practised. For this purpose, it was proposed to form "a holy league." This was earnestly enforced by a memoir from Sir Sidney Smith, the same who foiled Napoleon at Acre, and who at this time was president of an association called the "Knights Liberators of the White Slaves in Africa,"—in our day it might be called an Abolition Society,—thus adding to the doubtful laurels of war the true glory of striving for the freedom of his fellow-men.[118]
This project, though not adopted by the Congress, awakened a generous echo in the public mind. Various advocates appeared in its behalf; 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 negro slave trade, it was her duty to put an end to the slavery of the whites.[119]