On up the bay went the other merchantmen, with the _Hyder Ali_ in the rear, and the British squadron hot on their track. The frigate sailed into a side channel, thinking it would find a short-cut and so head them off. Captain Barney watched this movement with keen eyes. The big ship had put herself out of reach for a time. He knew well that she could not get through that way, and laid his plans to have some sport with the small fish while the big fish was away.

The brig _Fair American_ was a privateer and a fast one. It came up with a fair breeze, soon reaching the _Hyder Ali_, which expected a fight.

But the privateer wanted prizes more than cannon b.a.l.l.s, and went straight on, firing a broadside that did no harm. Captain Barney let her go. The sloop-of-war was coming fast behind, and this was enough for him to attend to. It had more guns than his ship and they were double the weight--twelve-pounders to his six-pounders. As the war sloop came near, Barney turned to his helmsman, and said:

"I want you to go opposite to my orders. If I tell you to port your helm, you are to put it hard-a-starboard. Do you understand?"

"Aye, aye!" answered the tar.

Up came the _General Monk_, its captain thinking to make an easy prize, as the _Fair American_ had been let go past without a shot. When about a dozen yards away the British captain hailed:

"Strike your colors, or I will fire!"

"Hard-a-port your helm," roared Barney to the man at the wheel. "Do you want her to run aboard us?"

The order was heard on board the enemy, and the captain gave orders to meet the expected movement. But hard-a-starboard went the helm, and the _Hyder Ali_ swung round in front of the enemy, whose bowsprit caught and became entangled in her fore-rigging.

This gave the American ship a raking position, and in a moment the grim tars were hard at work with their guns. Broadsides were poured in as fast as they could load and fire, and every shot swept from bow to stern. The Englishman, though he had double the weight of metal, could not get out of the awkward position in which Barney had caught him, and his guns did little harm. In less than half an hour down went his flag.

It was none too soon. The frigate had seen the fight from a distance, and was making all haste to get out of its awkward position and take a hand in the game. Barney did not even wait to ask the name of his prize, but put a crew on board and bade them make all haste to Philadelphia.

He followed, steering now for the _Fair American_. But the privateer captain had seen the fate of the _General Monk_ and concluded that he had business elsewhere. So he ran away instead of fighting, and soon ran ash.o.r.e. The _Hyder Ali_ left him there and made all haste up stream. The frigate had by this time got out of her side channel, and was coming up under full sail. So Captain Barney crowded on all sail also and fled away after his prize.

If the frigate had got within gunshot it would soon have settled the question, for it could have sunk the _Hyder Ali_ with a broadside. But it was not fast enough, and after a speedy run the victor and her prize drew up beside a Philadelphia wharf.

Never had the good people of the Quaker City gazed on such a sight as now met their eyes. Nothing had been done to remove the marks of battle.

The ships came in as they had left the fight. Shattered bulwarks, ragged rents in the hulls, sails in tatters and drooping cordage told the story of the desperate battle.

And the decks presented a terrible picture. Blood was everywhere. On the _General Monk_ were stretched the dead bodies of twenty men, while twenty-six wounded lay groaning below. The _Hyder Ali_ had suffered much less, having but four killed and eleven wounded.

In all the Revolutionary War there have been few more brilliant actions; and his victory gave Joshua Barney a high standing among the naval commanders of the young Republic.

Shall we take up the story of the gallant Barney at a later date? Thirty years after his victory over the _General Monk_, there was war again between Americans and Britons, and Commodore Barney, now an old man, took an active part.

He started out in the early days of the war with no better vessel than the schooner _Rossie_, of fourteen guns and 120 men. He soon had lively times. The _Rossie_ was a clipper, and he could run away from an enemy too strong to fight, though running away was not much to his taste.

In his first cruise he was out forty-five days, and in that time he captured fourteen vessels and 166 prisoners.

In a month"s time he was at sea again. Now he got among British frigates and had to trust to the heels of his little craft. But in spite of the great ships that haunted the seas, new prizes fell into his hands, one being taken after an hour"s fight. In all, the vessels and cargoes taken by him were worth nearly $3,000,000, though most of this wealth went to the bottom of the sea.

The next year (1813) he was made commodore of a fleet of gunboats in Chesapeake Bay. Here for a year he had very little to do. Then the British sailed up the Chesapeake, intending to capture Washington and Baltimore, Barney did not hesitate to attack them, and did considerable damage, though they were much too strong for his small fleet.

At length there came from the frightened people at Washington the order to burn his fleet, and, much against his will, he was forced to consign his gunboats to the flames. With his men, about four hundred in all, he joined the army a.s.sembled to defend the capital.

These sailor-soldiers made the best fight of any of the troops that sought to save Washington from capture; but during the fight Commodore Barney received a wound that brought his fighting days to an end.

Fortunately there was little more fighting to do, and peace reigned over his few remaining years of life.

CHAPTER X

THE MOORISH PIRATES OF THE MEDITERRANEAN

OUR NAVY TEACHES THEM A LESSON IN HONOR

I SUPPOSE all the readers of this book know what a pirate is. For those who may not know, I would say that a pirate is a sea-robber. They are terrible fellows, these pirates, who live by murder and plunder. In old times there were many ship-loads of them upon the seas, who captured every merchant vessel they met with and often killed all on board.

There have been whole nations of pirates, and that as late as a hundred years ago. By looking at an atlas you will see at the north of Africa the nations of Algiers, Tunis, and Tripoli. The people of these nations are called Moors, and they used to be great sea-robbers. They sent out fast vessels in the Mediterranean Sea, and no merchant ship there was safe. Hundreds of such ships were taken and robbed. Their crews were not killed, but they were sold as slaves, which was nearly as terrible.

Would you not think that the powerful nations of Europe would have soon put a stop to this? They could have sent fleets and armies there and conquered the Moors. But instead of that, they paid them to let their ships alone.

Not long after the Revolution these sea-robbers began to make trouble for the United States. The new nation, you should know, had no navy.

After it was done fighting with the British, it was so poor that it sold all its ships. But it soon had many merchant ships, sailing to all seas, which were left to take care of themselves the best way they could.

What did the pirates of Algiers care for this young nation across the Atlantic, that had rich merchant ships and not a war vessel to protect them? Very little, I fancy. It is certain that they soon began to capture American ships and sell their sailors for slaves. In a short time nearly two hundred American sailors were working as slaves in the Moorish states.

The United States did not act very bravely. Instead of sending out a fleet of warships, it made a treaty with Algiers and agreed to pay a certain sum of money every year to have its vessels let alone. While the treaty lasted, more than a million dollars were paid to the Dey of Algiers. If that much had been spent for strong frigates, the United States would not have had the disgrace of paying tribute to the Moors.

But the natives of Europe were doing the same, so the disgrace belonged to them also.

The trouble with the Moors got worse and worse, and the Dey of Algiers became very insolent to Americans.

"You are my slaves, for you pay me tribute," he said to the captain of an American frigate. "I have a right to order you as I please."

When the other pirate nations, Tunis and Tripoli, found that Algiers was being paid, they asked for tribute, too. And they began to capture American ships and sell their crews into slavery. And their monarchs were as insolent as the Dey.

The United States at that time was young and poor. It had not been twenty years free from British armies. But it was proud, if it was poor, and did not like to have its captains and consuls ordered about like servants. So the President and Congress thought it was time to teach the Moors a lesson.

This was in 1801. By that time a fleet of war vessels had been built, and a squadron of these was sent to the Mediterranean under Commodore Richard Dale. This was the man who had been in Paul Jones"s great fight and had received the surrender of the captain of the _Serapis_. He was a bold, brave officer, but Congress had ordered him not to fight if he could help it, and therefore very little was done.

But there was one battle, the story of which we must tell. Commodore Dale had three frigates and one little schooner, the _Enterprise_. All the honor of the cruise came to this little craft.

She was on her way to Malta when she came in sight of a low, long vessel, at whose mast-head floated the flag of Tripoli. When this came near, it was seen to be a corsair which had long waged war on American merchantmen.

Before Captain Sterrett, of the _Enterprise_, had time to hail, the Moors began to fire at his ship. He was told not to fight if he could help it, but Sterrett decided that he could not help it. He brought his schooner within pistol shot of the Moor, and poured broadsides into the pirate ship as fast as the men could load and fire. The Moors replied.

For two hours the battle continued, with roar of cannon and rattle of muskets and dense clouds of smoke.

The vessels were small and their guns were light, so that the battle was long drawn out.

At last the fire of the corsair ceased, and a whiff of air carried away the smoke. Looking across the waves, the sailors saw that the flag of Tripoli no longer waved, and three hearty American cheers rang out. The tars left their guns and were getting ready to board their prize, when up again went the flag of Tripoli and another broadside was fired into their vessel.

Their cheers of triumph turned to cries of rage. Back to their guns they rushed, and fought more fiercely than before. They did not care now to take the prize; they wished to send her, with her crew of villains, to the bottom of the sea.

The Moors fought as fiercely as the Americans. Running their vessel against the _Enterprise_, they tried again and again to leap on board and finish the battle with pistol and cutla.s.s; but each time they were driven back.

The men at the guns meanwhile poured in two more broadsides, and once more down came the flag of Tripoli.

Captain Sterrett did not trust the traitors this time. He bade his men keep to their guns, and ordered the Tripolitans to bring their vessel under the quarter of the _Enterprise_. They had no sooner done so than a throng of the Moorish pirates tried to board the schooner.