Lost ships and lonely seas

by Ralph Delahaye Paine

While from the European point of view the pirates of the Barbary coast were a bloodthirsty set of robbers, in the eyes of the Moors they were religious warriors for the faith who had volunteered to punish the Nazarenes for rejecting Mohammed, and it is difficult to realize the honor in which their memory is held save by comparison with that of the Crusaders, in which the positions were exactly reversed. The varying influences of the different European states could be gaged at first by the prices they were compelled to pay to ransom their captive subjects and later by the annual tribute which they were willing to present to protect their vessels. Some countries continued the payment well into the nineteenth century, although the slavery of Christians in Morocco had been abolished by treaty in 1814.

The privateer Inspector, commanded by Captain Richard Veale, sailed from the Downs on a cruise with two hundred and five hands. After taking two prizes she entered the Strait of Gibraltar, where a brisk gale of wind opened her seams, and it was a case of founder or run for the nearest beach. A treaty which had been signed by the Emperor of Morocco and the British Government inspired the hope of a humane reception in Tangier. More than a hundred of the privateersmen were drowned when the Inspector drove against the rocky coast, and the rest of them, wounded, half-naked, and exhausted, were discovered by the Moors, who threw them into a loathsome jail of Tangier.

The British consul, Mr. Pettigrew, arrived from Gibraltar in H. M. S. Phoenix a few days later, and opened negotiations which resulted in the release of the captain, his three lieutenants, and the officer of marines. As for the others, the consul was tartly informed that they could rot in slavery until the British Government discharged an old debt claimed by the Emperor of Morocco for captives redeemed seventeen years before.

While in prison the wretched seamen were left without food for three days on end, and to their piteous plea the governor of Tangier sent word:

“If the unbelieving dogs are hungry, let them eat the stones.”

When they desperately attempted to escape, iron chains were locked about their necks, and twenty of them were thrown into a black hole of a dungeon where hunger almost drove them to casting lots and eating one of their number. Two sheep were thrown to them, however, which they instantly devoured raw. After five months of this existence, in which they were more dead than alive, an order came to carry them to Bufcoran, two hundred miles distant, where the emperor was encamped.

This haughty potentate rode out to look them over, and it was his pleasure that they should be confined in a castle near by. It pleased them greatly when, after a little while, the same governor of Tangier who had abused them so frightfully was dragged into the castle, along with his household of officials, and they wore iron collars locked about their necks. There was such a thing as righteous retribution even in those parlous days. The emperor was building a splendid new castle, and the British privateersmen were set at work with pickaxes to dig the wall foundations. Remorselessly driven until they dropped, twenty of them abjured Christianity to find a respite from their torments.

The emperor was not too busy with his new castle to attend to matters of state, such as punishing the disgraced governor of Tangier and sundry other subjects who had misbehaved themselves in one way or another. Sailormen were accustomed to strange sights and wonderful experiences in that age of seafaring, but few of them beheld such a drama as was enacted before the eyes of the survivors of the Inspector as they glanced up from their sweating toil amid the stones and mortar. One of them described it in these words:

The emperor came to the place where the governor of Tangier and his miserable companions had lain five days in chains on the bare ground without the smallest allowance of provisions. Having viewed these unfortunate wretches, the emperor withdrew about sixty paces from the castle towards his camp where he gave orders that they should all be brought out before him. When they were arranged in the form required, the governor, three sons of the late bashaw, and another principal inhabitant of Tangier were unchained and set apart from the rest.

Then with all possible serenity the emperor desired his armor-bearer to bring him his scimetar. He drew it from the scabbard with a countenance as composed as if he had been going to exercise a body of troops. One of the delinquents was next commanded to be loosened from his chains and brought before him. The unhappy man, aware of his approaching fate, fell prostrate, and with tears implored mercy. All entreaties were vain, for the emperor without regarding them, exclaimed “In the name of God,” and with one blow struck off his head. This done, he returned his scimetar to the armor-bearer with orders for him and his assistants to follow the same example and retiring a short way off, stood to see his orders executed. In this manner were no less than three hundred and thirty victims massacred to glut his diabolical vengeance.