The American Navy

by French Ensor Chadwick

With the rise of Mohammedanism, the Arab power swept westward over the entire region. The antagonism of religion brought a continuous warfare between the European and African shores which developed into a piracy which lasted almost to our own days. A relic of the fear which Europe had for these bold corsairs, who captured vessels of all nations and carried crews and passengers into cruel slavery, is in the many towers of refuge still along the French and Italian rivieras, and the memory is yet in the Litany in the prayer-book of the Episcopal Church in England and America, where we pray for “all prisoners and captives.” Long after the writer entered our navy, the Saturday evening toast, after “Sweethearts and Wives,” was, “Here’s to the downfall of the barbarous Moor.” It was an echo of the epic period of the American navy. For we once did great things in Barbary, of which the average American to-day (and more’s the pity) is almost wholly ignorant. It is in its earlier phase a tale of national humiliation in which all Europe also had full share, but in which our navy had no part; its later phase in which the navy came into action is a very proud story.

The depredations of the Barbary powers were not confined to the Mediterranean, but extended into the North and Irish seas, many inhabitants being carried from these coasts into slavery. There were various efforts to punish these raiding powers in the seventeenth century by Dutch, French, and English, and as late as 1775 a great expedition was fitted out by Spain of nearly four hundred vessels, against Algiers, which, however, ended in disaster. This has special interest to us, as Joshua Barney, who was to act a conspicuous part in our naval annals, was impressed, with the Baltimore ship which he commanded, to assist in the transport of troops.

The Barbary vessels were in general large, narrow rowboats, carrying usually two masts, with the lateen sail of the Mediterranean for use in fair winds. The name “galley” was applied in Europe to the largest of such in ordinary use. There was, however, a much larger development in the galleasse, some few of which, used by the Neapolitans, carried 700 men, 300 of whom would be convicts at the oars. There was finally the galleon, the precursor of the frigate, which had masts and sails alone for propulsion. In the large galleys there might be as many as six men at an oar. It may be said that in general the development of the corsair ship followed slowly but fairly closely that of the ship of Europe, and in later years they had a number of the usual square-rigged vessels.[12]

The Christian slaves were employed not only in the galleys, but did all kinds of labor; the crew of our frigate Philadelphia, which in 1803 grounded near Tripoli and thus was captured, was employed in building one of the defences against our own ships, which took the name of the American fort. In the main, however, the captivity was humane and not oppressive.

The claim of the Barbary powers was expressed in a statement of their envoy while in London in 1786, to our minister, John Adams: “That Turkey, Tripoli, Tunis, Algiers, and Morocco were the sovereigns of the Mediterranean; and that no nation could navigate that sea without a treaty of peace with them.”[13] Europe had practically accepted a situation of the most degrading kind; every nautical power paid tribute in money or presents and all had representatives among the Barbary slaves. Even as late as 1816, when the English finally acted, there were eighteen Englishmen among the slaves released by Lord Exmouth’s expedition.

But England’s attitude had not been one of honor. There was no time when she might not have ended the foul situation. Franklin could say in a letter on July 25, 1783, to our secretary of foreign affairs: “I think it not improbable that these rovers may be privately encouraged by the English to fall upon us and to prevent our interfering in the carrying trade; for I have in London heard it is a maxim among the merchants, that if there were no Algiers it would be worth England’s while to build one. I wonder, however, that the rest of Europe do not combine to destroy those nests and secure commerce from their future piracies.”[14] Three years later John Adams, our minister in London, was writing Secretary Jay (February 17, 1786): “There are not wanting persons in England who will find means to stimulate this African [the Tripolitan envoy] to stir up his countrymen against American vessels.”[15] British statesmanship, then as ever, was jealous of rival commerce on the seas. Lord Sheffield, in a pamphlet on American commerce, could say: “It will not be in the interest of any of the great maritime powers to protect [Americans] from the Barbary States. If they know their interests, they will not encourage the Americans to be carriers—that the Barbary States are advantageous to the maritime powers is obvious.”

It is odd that at this period two men whose lives were of a sort that one would have supposed they would have advised each directly otherwise, exchanged characters. Thus while Thomas Jefferson, our minister to France, advised in 1785 force as the best protection, John Adams in England, influenced perhaps by his surroundings, advised following the usual plan of paying an annual tribute. Jefferson later, most unhappily for his country, was violently antagonistic to the establishment of a navy. Adams was, and always had been, quite the reverse. But he now felt that the country was too poor and too embarrassed by debt to use force. He wrote John Jay, Foreign Secretary, December 15, 1784: “As long as France, England, Holland, the Emperor, etc., will submit to be tributaries to these robbers and even encourage them, to what purpose should we make war upon them? The resolution might be heroic but would not be wise ... we cannot hurt them in the smallest degree.... Unless it were possible, then, to persuade the great maritime powers of Europe to unite in the suppression of these piracies, it would be very imprudent for us to entertain any thoughts of contending with them.”[16]

The two ministers had an extended correspondence, and though Adams said: “I will go all lengths with you in promoting a navy, whether it be applied to the Algerines or not,” he still doubted the economy of dealing with Barbary by force. Jefferson’s tone was now, for him, strangely combative. He wrote, August 20, 1785: “The question is whether their peace or war will be cheapest? But it is a question which should be addressed to our honor as well as our avarice, nor does it respect us as to these pirates only, but as to the nations of Europe. If we wish our commerce to be free and uninsulted, we must let these nations see that we have an energy which at present they disbelieve. The low opinion they entertain of our powers cannot fail to involve us soon in a naval war.”

Jefferson’s views involved an association which would furnish one or more cruisers each to act against piracy in the Mediterranean. It included Portugal, Naples, the two Sicilies, Venice, Malta, Denmark, and Sweden, an extremely difficult combination; but he doubted the good faith of others. In a letter to Monroe, August 11, 1786, he says: “I think every power in Europe would soon fall into it except France, England, and perhaps Spain and Holland. Of these there is only England who would give any real aid to the Algerines....” He added: “Were the honor and advantage of establishing such a confederacy out of the question, yet the necessity that the United States should have some marine force, and the happiness of this, as the ostensible cause of beginning it, would decide on its propriety. It will be said there is no money in the treasury. There never will be money in the treasury till the confederacy shows its teeth.... Every rational citizen must wish to see an effective instrument of coercion and should fear to see it on any other element than the water. A naval force can never endanger our liberties nor occasion bloodshed; a land force would do both.”[17]

This was Jefferson at his best. It is extraordinary that when the time came to really assert ourselves against the seizure of our seamen and property by other powers than those of Barbary, he should have so completely failed. But in any case, at the time he was proposing his floating confederacy, our inchoate system of government of the period, which required each state to be solicited by Congress for funds, would no doubt, as Adams thought, have made it impossible to provide the needed ships. Our vessels continued to be seized and their crews enslaved.