Thus prepared, I set out for Italy through France, and though it was in time of war, and some strong objections had been made to particular passports solicited by our Government from the French Secretary of State, Monsieur de Choiseul most obligingly waived all such exceptions with regard to me, and most politely assured me that those difficulties did not in any shape regard me, but that I was at perfect liberty to pass through or remain in France with those that accompanied me, without limiting their number, as short or as long a time as should be agreeable to me.
On my arrival at Rome, I received orders to proceed to Naples, there to await His Majesty’s further commands.
While waiting at Naples for instructions to proceed to his post, Bruce visited Pæstum, the ruins of which were then but little known, and at the suggestion of Sir James Gray, the British Ambassador, made accurate drawings of those ruins, and conceived the idea of illustrating the history of that city from its various coins of different periods. This idea, which he was the first to originate, he executed with great learning and ingenuity. On proceeding to Africa, he entrusted these drawings to Sir Robert Strange, for the purpose of having them engraved; but, from circumstances which have never been explained, copies of them were surreptitiously obtained, and, on his return from Abyssinia, he found that his work had been pirated and published under another name. In his autograph memoir he expresses himself strongly on this subject, but his chief complaint is
That the bunglers did not know how to avail themselves of the materials for the history of Pæstum which, by whatever means, had fallen into their hands.
To resume, however, Bruce’s own narrative:—
The Government was so kind as to send the ‘Montreal’ frigate to carry me to Algiers.
I pursued my plan, studied hard, was become now a good Orientalist in general. I speedily spoke the Arabic fluently; among the natives and among the servants I exercised myself every day. I was also an adept in Geer, or Ethiopic, as far as Ludolph and Memmers and the few books I had could make me, but these were as yet very few.
It happened at St. Philip’s in Minorca, as it always, I believe, happens, that when a fortress is surrendered to an enemy, the papers, plans, and documents found therein are to be delivered up to the captors. The French, when they took Minorca, had found in that fortress a multitude of blank Mediterranean passes, a number of these being always lodged for common demand with the Secretary of the Governor of Minorca and Gibraltar. The French, upon finding these, had countersigned them, and sold them to Sardinians, Genoese, Neapolitans, and Spaniards, who navigated under their authority with English colours. They had not even taken the precaution of putting an English supercargo on board, so that English colours were found everywhere, with not a man on board but the enemies of Algiers.
This Regency soon were informed of this in all its circumstances by the French and Swedish Consuls residing in Algiers; they could not read, their only trial of the passport was by a countercheck delivered them by the Consul. When they applied this to these false passports they all checked and agreed; when the ships were, notwithstanding, brought into Algiers, the English Consul detected the fraud, disowned the signature, and the ship was made a legal prize.
This secret, however obvious to everyone skilled in business of that kind, was inscrutable to pirates who knew no other rule but the check; the cruisers were on the point of mutinying; had I not been on good terms with the whole Regency, as well as with the common soldiers and merchants, I should have been burned in my house, or condemned to draw the stone cart in irons, as a short time before I had had the mortification to see the French Consul and all his nation do.