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." 1

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

1 Purchas's Pilgrims, Vol. II. pp. 889-896.

us the ship on fire was admiral, and belonged to AlyHackum, 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 country-men now languishing in misery and irons, to endeavor their releasement." 1

A

of

Even the non-resistance of Quakers, animated by zeal for freedom, contrived to baffle these slave-dealers. ship in the charge of these Christians became the prey 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. 2

1 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.

2 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." 1

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,

1 Busnot, History of the Reign of Muley Ismael, Chap. VII. p. 171.

"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.1

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

1 Busnot, History of the Reign of Muley Ismael, p 184.