THE struggles for freedom could not always assume the shape of
conspiracy. They were often _efforts to escape_, sometimes in numbers
and sometimes singly. The captivity of Cervantes was filled with
such, where, though constantly balked, he persevered with courage
and skill. On one occasion he attempted to escape by land to Oran, a
Spanish settlement on the coast, but, being deserted by his guide, was
compelled to return.[77] Another endeavor was promoted by Christian
merchants at Algiers, through whose agency a vessel was actually
purchased for this purpose. And still another was favored by a number
of his own countrymen, hovering on the coast in a vessel from Majorca,
who did not think it wrong to aid in the liberation of slaves. And
this was supposed to be aided by a Spanish ecclesiastic, Father
Olivar, who, being at Algiers for the ransom of slaves, could not
resist the temptation to lend generous assistance to the struggles of
fellow-Christians in bonds. He paid the bitter penalty which similar
service to freedom has found elsewhere and in another age. He was
seized by the Dey, and thrown into chains; for the Algerine government
held it a high offence to further in any way the escape of a slave.[78]
[77] El Trato de Argel.
[78] Roscoe, Life of Cervantes, pp. 31, 33, 308, 309. See also
Haedo, Historia de Argel. p. 185. I refer to Roscoe as the popular
authority. His work is little more than a compilation from
Navarrete and Sismondi.
Endeavors for freedom are animating; nor can any honest nature hear of
them without a throb of sympathy. Dwelling on the painful narrative
of unequal contest between tyrannical power and the crushed captive,
we resolutely enter the lists on the side of freedom; and beholding
the contest waged by a few individuals, or, perhaps, by one alone, our
sympathy is given to his weakness as well as to his cause. To him we
send the unfaltering succor of good wishes. For him we invoke vigor of
arm to defend and fleetness of foot to escape. Human enactments are
vain to restrain the warm tides of the heart. We pause with rapture on
those historic scenes where freedom has been attempted or preserved
through the magnanimous self-sacrifice of friendship or Christian aid.
With palpitating bosom we follow Mary of Scotland in her midnight
flight from the custody of her stern jailers; we accompany Grotius
in his escape from prison, so adroitly promoted by his wife; we join
Lavalette in his flight, aided also by his wife; and we offer our
admiration and gratitude to Huger and Bollmann, who, unawed by the
arbitrary ordinances of Austria, strove heroically, though vainly,
to rescue Lafayette from the dungeons of Olmütz. The laws of Algiers,
which sanctioned a cruel slavery, dooming to condign punishment
all endeavors for freedom, and especially all countenance of such
endeavors, can no longer prevent our sympathy with Cervantes, not less
gallant than renowned, who strove so constantly and earnestly to escape
his chains,--nor our homage to those Christians also who did not fear
to aid him, and to the good ecclesiastic who suffered in his cause.[79]
[79] At the time this Lecture was delivered, the Rev. Charles T.
Torrey was a prisoner in the Penitentiary of Maryland, paying the
penalty for aid to escaping slaves.
The efforts to escape from slavery in the Barbary States, so far as
they can be traced, are full of interest. Each, also, has its lesson
for us at the present hour. The following is in the exact words of an
early writer. "One John Fox, an expert mariner, and a good, approved,
and sufficient gunner, was (in the raigne of Queene Elizabeth) taken
by the Turkes, and kept eighteene yeeres in most miserable bondage
and slavery; at the end of which time he espied his opportunity (and
God assisting him withall), that hee slew his keeper, and fled to the
sea's side, where he found a gally with one hundred and fifty captive
Christians, which hee speedily waying their anchor, set saile, and fell
to worke like men, and safely arrived in Spaone, by which meanes he
freed himselfe and a number of poore soules from long and intolerable
servitude; after which the said John Fox came into England, _and the
Queene (being rightly informed of his brave exploit) did graciously
entertaine him for her servant, and allowed him a yeerely pension_."[80]
[80] Purchas's Pilgrims, Vol. II. p. 888.
There is also in the same early source a quaint description of what
occurred to a ship from Bristol, captured by an Algerine corsair in
1621. The Englishmen were all taken out except four youths, over whom
the Turks, as these barbarians are often called by early writers, put
thirteen of their own men, to conduct the ship as prize to Algiers; and
one of the pirates, "a strong, able, sterne, and resolute fellow," was
appointed captain. "These foure poore youths," so the story proceeds,
"being thus fallen into the hands of mercilesse infidels, began to
studie and complot all the meanes they could for the obtayning of
their freedomes. First, they considered the lamentable and miserable
estates that they were like to be in,--as, to be debard for ever from
seeing their friends and countrey, to be chained, beaten, made slaves,
and to eate the bread of affliction in the gallies, all the remainder
of their unfortunate lives, to have their heads shaven, to feed on
course dyet, to have hard boords for beds, and, which was worst of
all, never to be partakers of the heavenly word and sacraments. Thus
being quite hopelesse, haplesse, and, for any thing they knew, for ever
helplesse, they sayled five dayes and nights under the command of the
pirats, when, on the fifth night, God, in his great mercy, shewed them
a meanes for their wished for escape." A sudden wind arose, when, the
captain coming to help take in the mainsail, two of the English youths
"suddenly tooke him by the breech and threw him over-boord; but by
fortune hee fell into the bunt of the sayle, where, quickly catching
hold of a rope, he (being a very strong man) had almost gotten into
the ship againe, which John Cooke perceiving leaped speedily to the
pumpe and tooke off the pumpe brake or handle and cast it to William
Ling, bidding him knocke him downe, which he was not long in doing,
but, lifting up the woodden weapon, he gave him such a palt on the
pate as made his braines forsake the possession of his head, with
which his body fell into the sea." The corsair slave-dealers were
overpowered. The four English youths drove them "from place to place
in the ship, and having coursed them from the poope to the forecastle,
they there valiantly killed two of them, and gave another a dangerous
wound or two, who, to escape the further fury of their swords, leap'd
suddenly over-boord to goe seeke his captaine." The other nine Turks
ran between-decks, where they were securely fastened. The English
now directed their course to St. Lucas, in Spain, and "in short time
(by Gods ayde) happily and safely arrived at the said port, _where
they sold the nine Turkes for gally-slaves for a good summe of money,
and, as I thinke, a great deale more then they were worth_." "He that
shall attribute such things as these to the arme of flesh and bloud,"
says the ancient historian, grateful for this triumph of freedom, "is
forgetfull, ingratefull, and in a manner atheisticall."[81]
[81] Purchas's Pilgrims, Vol. II. pp. 887, 888.
From the same authority I draw another narrative of singular success
the following year. A company of Englishmen, being captured and carried
into Algiers, were sold as slaves. These are the words of one of
their number: "_The souldiers hurried us like dogs into the market,
where as men sell hacknies in England we were tossed up and downe to
see who would give most for us; and although we had heavy hearts and
looked with sad countenances, yet many came to behold us, sometimes
taking us by the hand, sometime turning us round about, sometimes
feeling our brawnes_ _and naked armes, and so beholding our prices
written in our breasts, they bargained for us accordingly, and at last
we were all sold._" Shortly afterward several were put on board an
Algerine corsair. One of them, John Rawlins, who resembled Cervantes
in the hardihood of his exertions for freedom,--as, like him, he had
lost the use of a hand,--arranged an uprising on board. "'Oh hellish
slaverie,'" he said, "'to be thus subject to dogs! Oh, God strengthen
my heart and hand, and something shall be done to ease us of these
mischiefes, and deliver us from these cruell Mahumetan dogs.' The other
slaves, pittying his distraction (as they thought), bad him speake
softly, lest they should all fare the worse for his distemperature.
'The worse,' (quoth Rawlins,) 'what can be worse? I will either attempt
my deliverance at one time or another, or perish in the enterprise.'"
Seizing an auspicious moment, nine English slaves, besides John
Rawlins, with other English, French, and Hollanders, "in all foure and
twenty and a boy," succeeded, after a bloody contest, in overpowering
five-and-forty Turks. "When all was done," the story proceeds, "and
the ship cleared of the dead bodies, John Rawlins assembled his men
together, and with one consent gave the praise unto God, using the
accustomed service on ship-boord, and, for want of bookes, lifted up
their voyces to God, as he put into their hearts or renewed their
memories; then did they sing a psalme, and, last of all, embraced
one another for playing the men in such a deliverance, whereby our
feare was turned into joy, and trembling hearts exhillirated, that we
had escaped such inevitable dangers, and especially the slavery and
terror of bondage worse then death it selfe. The same night we washed
our ship, put every thing in as good order as we could, repaired the
broken quarter, set up the biticle, and bore up the helme for England,
where by Gods grace and good guiding we arrived at Plimmoth the
thirteenth of February."[82]
[82] Purchas's Pilgrims, Vol. II. pp. 889-896.
In 1685, Thomas Phelps and Edmund Baxter, Englishmen, accomplished
their escape from captivity at Mequinez. The latter had made a previous
unsuccessful attempt, which drew upon him the bastinado, disabling him
from work for a twelvemonth; "but, notwithstanding, such was his love
for Christian liberty," that he freely declared to his companion "that
he would adventure with any fair opportunity." Here the story is like
one of our own day. By devious paths, journeying in the darkness of
night, and by day sheltering themselves in bushes or in the branches
of fig-trees, they at length reached the sea. "With imminent risk of
discovery, they succeeded in finding a boat not far from Sallee. This
they took without consulting the proprietor, and rowed to a distant
ship, which, to their great joy, proved to be an English man-of-war.
Making known the exposed situation of the Moorish ships at Mamora, they
formed part of a night expedition in boats which boarded and burnt
them. "One Moor," says the account, "we found aboard, who was presently
cut in pieces; another was shot in the head, endeavoring to escape upon
the cable. We were not long in taking in our shavings and tar-barrels,
and so set her on fire in several places, she being very apt to receive
what we designed; for there were several barrels of tar upon the deck,
and she was newly tarred, as if on purpose. Whilst we were setting
her on fire, we heard a noise of some people in the hold; we opened
the skuttles, and thereby saved the lives of four Christians, three
Dutch-men and one French, who told us the ship on fire was admiral,
and belonged to Aly-Hackum, and the other, which we soon after served
with the same sauce, had the name of _Plummage Cortibe_, which was the
very ship which in October last took me captive." The Englishman, once
a captive, who tells this story, says it is "most especially to move
pity for the afflictions of Joseph, to excite compassionate regard to
those poor countrymen now languishing in misery and irons, to endeavor
their releasement."[83]
[83] A True Account of the Captivity of Thomas Phelps at Machiness
in Barbary, and of his strange Escape, in Company of Edmund Baxter
and others: Osborne's Voyages, Vol. II. pp. 499-510.
Even the non-resistance of Quakers, animated by zeal for freedom,
contrived to baffle these slave-dealers. A ship in the charge of these
Christians became the prey of Algerines; and the curious story is told,
with details unnecessary here, of the manner in which the vessel was
subsequently recaptured by the crew without loss of life. To complete
this triumph, the slave-pirates were safely landed on their own shores,
and allowed to go their way in peace, acknowledging with astonishment
and gratitude this new application of the Christian injunction to do
good to them that hate you. On the return, Charles the Second, being
at Greenwich, and learning that "there was a Quaker ketch coming up
the river, that had been taken by the Turks, and redeemed themselves
without fighting," came to it in his barge, and there hearing "how
they had let the Turks go free," said to the master, with the spirit
of a slave-dealer, "You have done like a fool, for you might have had
good gain for them." And to the mate he said, "You should have brought
the Turks to me." "_I thought it better for them to be in their own
country_," was the Quaker's reply.[84]
[84] Sewel, History of the Quakers, pp. 392-397.
These are English stories. But there is testimony also from France.
A Catholic father furnishes a chapter entitled, "Of some Slaves that
made their Escape"; and he begins by narrating the difficulties: how
the slaves, before they start, secure the assistance of certain Moors,
called _Metadores_, "who promise to conduct them among Christians for
a sum agreed on"; how they journey all night, sheltering themselves
during the day in woods, caves, or other retired places, always in
dread, and anxiously awaiting the return of darkness to cover their
movements; how the flight is long and wearisome, environed by perpetual
hardship and peril; how, if alone, there is danger of death on the
mountains, through hunger and thirst, or from lions and tigers; and
how, if retaken, there is the fearful prospect of being burned or
cruelly bastinadoed, with a constant weight of irons while at their
daily toil. "But their torments and dangers," says the father, "are
less dreadful than the thoughts of living all their days in that
miserable slavery."[85]
[85] Busnot, History of the Reign of Muley Ismael, Chap. VII. p.
171.
Then comes the narrative of two Frenchmen who with incredible effort
journeyed one hundred and fifty leagues, being on the road eighteen
nights "without eating anything considerable," and were at last so
near their liberty as to see a town belonging to the king of Portugal,
making them forget their fatigues, when they were unhappily retaken,
hurried back to their master, loaded with irons, and condemned to
double labor. As they were studying a second escape, they were relieved
by death, that constant friend of the slave. This narrative is followed
by that of two other Frenchmen, who commenced their escape on the 2d of
October, 1693, "having no other guide than the North Star to direct
their course." And here ensues that succession of trials which is the
lot of the fugitive slave, all of which is told at length. There was
peril in leaving the city and passing the outer guards; but when this
was done, then came the desert, with its rocks and precipices, where
they met "some tigers and many lions," making it hideous with their
roaring; but worse than tiger or lion was the fiery thirst that pursued
them; and worse than all was man, for it was from him that they feared
most. They, too, found themselves in sight of the liberty they had
sought with such pain, when, like their predecessors, they were retaken
and hurried back. Asked why they had fled, they answered, "For the sake
of liberty, and we are guilty of no other crime." Burdened with heavy
chains, they were again put to work, with the threat of being burned
alive, if they attempted the like again. But notwithstanding all this
terrible experience and the menace of death by the flames, they made
another attempt, "preferring," says the Catholic father, "all perils
and hardships before the insupportable burden of their captivity."
Again they failed, and were carried back to fearful torment, when
at last they were ransomed by the mission in the name of the French
monarch.[86]
[86] Busnot, History of the Reign of Muley Ismael, p. 184.
In the current of time other instances occurred. A letter from Algiers,
dated August 6, 1772, and preserved in the British Annual Register,
furnishes the following story. "A most remarkable escape," it says,
"of some Christian prisoners has lately been effected here, which will
undoubtedly cause those that have not had that good fortune to be
treated with the utmost rigor. On the morning of the 27th of July, the
Dey was informed that all the Christian slaves had escaped over-night
in a galley. This news soon raised him, and, upon inquiry, it was found
to have been a preconcerted plan. About ten at night, seventy-four
slaves, who had found means to escape from their masters, met in a
large square near the gate which opens to the harbor, and, being well
armed, they soon forced the guard to submit, and, to prevent their
raising the city, confined them all in the powder-magazine. They then
proceeded to the lower part of the harbor, where they embarked on board
a large rowing polacre, that was left there for the purpose, and, the
tide ebbing out, they fell gently down with it, and passed both the
forts. As soon as this was known, three large galleys were ordered out
after them, but to no purpose. They returned in three days, with the
news of seeing the polacre sail into Barcelona, where the galleys durst
not go to attack her."[87]
[87] Annual Register, Vol. XV. p. 130.]
The same historic authority records another triumph of freedom.
"Forty-six captives," it says, at the date of September 3, 1776, "who
were employed to draw stones from a quarry some leagues' distance from
Algiers, at a place named Genova, resolved, if possible, to recover
their liberty, and yesterday took advantage of the idleness and
inattention of forty men who were to guard them, and who had laid down
their arms, and were rambling about the shore. The captives attacked
them with pick-axes and other tools, and made themselves masters of
their arms; and having killed thirty-three of the forty, and eleven of
the thirteen sailors who were in the boat which carried the stones,
they obliged the rest to jump into the sea. Being then masters of the
boat, and armed with twelve muskets, two pistols, and powder, &c.,
they set sail, and had the good fortune to arrive here [at Palma, the
capital of Majorca] this morning, where they are performing quarantine.
Sixteen of them are Spaniards, seventeen French, eight Portuguese,
three Italians, one a German, and one a Sardinian."[88] Here, as in
other cases, I copy the precise language of the authority, without
adding a word. These simple stories show how captives have escaped and
the world has sympathized.
[88] Annual Register, Vol. XIX. p. 176.]