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Decision Theory Principles and Approaches Wiley Series
in Probability and Statistics 1st Edition Giovanni
Parmigiani Digital Instant Download
Author(s): Giovanni Parmigiani, Lurdes Inoue
ISBN(s): 9780471496571, 047149657X
Edition: 1
File Details: PDF, 4.19 MB
Year: 2009
Language: english
 Decision Theory
Principles and Approaches

Giovanni Parmigiani
Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, USA

Lurdes Y. T. Inoue
University of Washington, Seattle, USA
with contributions by

Hedibert F. Lopes

University of Chicago, USA

A John Wiley and Sons, Ltd., Publication

Decision Theory
WILEY SERIES IN PROBABILITY AND STATISTICS

Established by WALTER A. SHEWHART and SAMUEL S. W ILKS

Editors
DAVID J. BALDING , N OEL A. C. C RESSIE , G ARRETT M. F ITZMAURICE , I AIN M. J OHN -
STONE , G EERT M OLENBERGHS , DAVID W. S COTT, A DRIAN F. M. S MITH , RUEY S. T SAY,
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Editors Emeriti
V IC BARNETT, J. S TUART H UNTER , J OZEF L. T EUGELS
A COMPLETE LIST OF THE TITLES IN THIS SERIES APPEARS AT THE END OF THIS VOLUME .
 Decision Theory
Principles and Approaches

Giovanni Parmigiani
Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, USA

Lurdes Y. T. Inoue
University of Washington, Seattle, USA
with contributions by

Hedibert F. Lopes

University of Chicago, USA

A John Wiley and Sons, Ltd., Publication

This edition first published 2009

c 2009 John Wiley & Sons, Ltd.

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PO19 8SQ, United Kingdom

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Parmigiani, G. (Giovanni)
Decision theory : principles and approaches / Giovanni Parmigiani, Lurdes Inoue.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-0-471-49657-1 (cloth)
1. Statistical decision. 2. Axiomatic set theory. 3. Experimental design.
I. Inoue, Lurdes. II. Title.
QA279.4.P37 2009
519.5 42—dc22
2009008345
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN 978-0-471-49657-1
Set in 10/12pt Times by Integra Software Services Pvt. Ltd, Pondicherry, India
Printed in the UK by TJ International, Padstow, Cornwall
 To our advisors: Don Berry, Morrie De Groot, and Jay Kadane;
and to their advisors: Jay Kadane, Jimmy Savage, and Herman Chernoff
Contents

Preface xiii

Acknowledgments xvii

1 Introduction 1
1.1 Controversies 1
1.2 A guided tour of decision theory 6

Part One Foundations 11

2 Coherence 13
2.1 The “Dutch Book” theorem 15
2.1.1 Betting odds 15
2.1.2 Coherence and the axioms of probability 17
2.1.3 Coherent conditional probabilities 20
2.1.4 The implications of Dutch Book theorems 21
2.2 Temporal coherence 24
2.3 Scoring rules and the axioms of probabilities 26
2.4 Exercises 27

3 Utility 33
3.1 St. Petersburg paradox 34
3.2 Expected utility theory and the theory of means 37
3.2.1 Utility and means 37
3.2.2 Associative means 38
3.2.3 Functional means 39
3.3 The expected utility principle 40
3.4 The von Neumann–Morgenstern representation theorem 42
3.4.1 Axioms 42
3.4.2 Representation of preferences via expected
utility 44
3.5 Allais’ criticism 48
3.6 Extensions 50
3.7 Exercises 50
viii CONTENTS

4 Utility in action 55
4.1 The “standard gamble” 56
4.2 Utility of money 57
4.2.1 Certainty equivalents 57
4.2.2 Risk aversion 57
4.2.3 A measure of risk aversion 60
4.3 Utility functions for medical decisions 63
4.3.1 Length and quality of life 63
4.3.2 Standard gamble for health states 64
4.3.3 The time trade-off methods 64
4.3.4 Relation between QALYs and utilities 65
4.3.5 Utilities for time in ill health 66
4.3.6 Difficulties in assessing utility 69
4.4 Exercises 70

5 Ramsey and Savage 75

5.1 Ramsey’s theory 76
5.2 Savage’s theory 81
5.2.1 Notation and overview 81
5.2.2 The sure thing principle 82
5.2.3 Conditional and a posteriori preferences 85
5.2.4 Subjective probability 85
5.2.5 Utility and expected utility 90
5.3 Allais revisited 91
5.4 Ellsberg paradox 92
5.5 Exercises 93

6 State independence 97
6.1 Horse lotteries 98
6.2 State-dependent utilities 100
6.3 State-independent utilities 101
6.4 Anscombe–Aumann representation theorem 103
6.5 Exercises 105

Part Two Statistical Decision Theory 109

7 Decision functions 111

7.1 Basic concepts 112
7.1.1 The loss function 112
7.1.2 Minimax 114
7.1.3 Expected utility principle 116
7.1.4 Illustrations 117
7.2 Data-based decisions 120
7.2.1 Risk 120
7.2.2 Optimality principles 121
 CONTENTS ix

7.2.3 Rationality principles and the Likelihood Principle 123

7.2.4 Nuisance parameters 125
7.3 The travel insurance example 126
7.4 Randomized decision rules 131
7.5 Classification and hypothesis tests 133
7.5.1 Hypothesis testing 133
7.5.2 Multiple hypothesis testing 136
7.5.3 Classification 139
7.6 Estimation 140
7.6.1 Point estimation 140
7.6.2 Interval inference 143
7.7 Minimax–Bayes connections 144
7.8 Exercises 150

8 Admissibility 155
8.1 Admissibility and completeness 156
8.2 Admissibility and minimax 158
8.3 Admissibility and Bayes 159
8.3.1 Proper Bayes rules 159
8.3.2 Generalized Bayes rules 160
8.4 Complete classes 164
8.4.1 Completeness and Bayes 164
8.4.2 Sufficiency and the Rao–Blackwell inequality 165
8.4.3 The Neyman–Pearson lemma 167
8.5 Using the same α level across studies with different sample
sizes is inadmissible 168
8.6 Exercises 171

9 Shrinkage 175
9.1 The Stein effect 176
9.2 Geometric and empirical Bayes heuristics 179
9.2.1 Is x too big for θ ? 179
9.2.2 Empirical Bayes shrinkage 181
9.3 General shrinkage functions 183
9.3.1 Unbiased estimation of the risk of x + g(x) 183
9.3.2 Bayes and minimax shrinkage 185
9.4 Shrinkage with different likelihood and losses 188
9.5 Exercises 188

10 Scoring rules 191

10.1 Betting and forecasting 192
10.2 Scoring rules 193
10.2.1 Definition 193
10.2.2 Proper scoring rules 194
10.2.3 The quadratic scoring rules 195
10.2.4 Scoring rules that are not proper 196
x CONTENTS

10.3 Local scoring rules 197

10.4 Calibration and refinement 200
10.4.1 The well-calibrated forecaster 200
10.4.2 Are Bayesians well calibrated? 205
10.5 Exercises 207

11 Choosing models 209

11.1 The “true model” perspective 210
11.1.1 Model probabilities 210
11.1.2 Model selection and Bayes factors 212
11.1.3 Model averaging for prediction and selection 213
11.2 Model elaborations 216
11.3 Exercises 219

Part Three Optimal Design 221

12 Dynamic programming 223
12.1 History 224
12.2 The travel insurance example revisited 226
12.3 Dynamic programming 230
12.3.1 Two-stage finite decision problems 230
12.3.2 More than two stages 233
12.4 Trading off immediate gains and information 235
12.4.1 The secretary problem 235
12.4.2 The prophet inequality 239
12.5 Sequential clinical trials 241
12.5.1 Two-armed bandit problems 241
12.5.2 Adaptive designs for binary outcomes 242
12.6 Variable selection in multiple regression 245
12.7 Computing 248
12.8 Exercises 251

13 Changes in utility as information 255

13.1 Measuring the value of information 256
13.1.1 The value function 256
13.1.2 Information from a perfect experiment 258
13.1.3 Information from a statistical experiment 259
13.1.4 The distribution of information 264
13.2 Examples 265
13.2.1 Tasting grapes 265
13.2.2 Medical testing 266
13.2.3 Hypothesis testing 273
13.3 Lindley information 276
13.3.1 Definition 276
13.3.2 Properties 278
13.3.3 Computing 280
13.3.4 Optimal design 281
 CONTENTS xi

13.4 Minimax and the value of information 283

13.5 Exercises 285
14 Sample size 289
14.1 Decision-theoretic approaches to sample size 290
14.1.1 Sample size and power 290
14.1.2 Sample size as a decision problem 290
14.1.3 Bayes and minimax optimal sample size 292
14.1.4 A minimax paradox 293
14.1.5 Goal sampling 295
14.2 Computing 298
14.3 Examples 302
14.3.1 Point estimation with quadratic loss 302
14.3.2 Composite hypothesis testing 304
14.3.3 A two-action problem with linear utility 306
14.3.4 Lindley information for exponential data 309
14.3.5 Multicenter clinical trials 311
14.4 Exercises 316
15 Stopping 323
15.1 Historical note 324
15.2 A motivating example 326
15.3 Bayesian optimal stopping 328
15.3.1 Notation 328
15.3.2 Bayes sequential procedure 329
15.3.3 Bayes truncated procedure 330
15.4 Examples 332
15.4.1 Hypotheses testing 332
15.4.2 An example with equivalence between sequential and
fixed sample size designs 336
15.5 Sequential sampling to reduce uncertainty 337
15.6 The stopping rule principle 339
15.6.1 Stopping rules and the Likelihood Principle 339
15.6.2 Sampling to a foregone conclusion 340
15.7 Exercises 342
Appendix 345
A.1 Notation 345
A.2 Relations 349
A.3 Probability (density) functions of some distributions 350
A.4 Conjugate updating 350
References 353
Index 367
Preface

Goals
The goal of this book is to give an overview of fundamental ideas and results about
rational decision making under uncertainty, highlighting the implications of these
results for the philosophy and practice of statistics. The book grew from lecture
notes from graduate courses taught at the Institute of Statistics and Decision Sci-
ences at Duke University, at the Johns Hopkins University, and at the University of
Washington. It is designed primarily for graduate students in statistics and biostatis-
tics, both at the Masters and PhD level. However, the interdisciplinary nature of the
material should make it interesting to students and researchers in economics (choice
theory, econometrics), engineering (signal processing, risk analysis), computer sci-
ence (pattern recognition, artificial intelligence), and scientists who are interested in
the general principles of experimental design and analysis.
Rational decision making has been a chief area of investigation in a number of
disciplines, in some cases for centuries. Several of the contributions and viewpoints
are relevant to both the education of a well-rounded statistician and to the develop-
ment of sound statistical practices. Because of the wealth of important ideas, and
the pressure from competing needs in current statistical curricula, our first course in
decision theory aims for breadth rather than depth. We paid special attention to two
aspects: bridging the gaps among the different fields that have contributed to ratio-
nal decision making; and presenting ideas in a unified framework and notation while
respecting and highlighting the different and sometimes conflicting perspectives.
With this in mind, we felt that a standard textbook format would be too con-
straining for us and not sufficiently stimulating for the students. So our approach has
been to write a “tour guide” to some of the ideas and papers that have contributed to
making decision theory so fascinating and important. We selected a set of exciting
papers and book chapters, and developed a self-contained lecture around each one.
Some lectures are close to the source, while others stray far from their original inspi-
ration. Naturally, many important articles have been left out of the tour. Our goal
was to select a set that would work well together in conveying an overall view of the
fields and controversies.
We decided to cover three areas: the axiomatic foundations of decision theory;
statistical decision theory; and optimal design of experiments. At many universities,
xiv PREFACE

these are the subject of separate courses, often taught in different departments and
schools. Current curricula in statistics and biostatistics are increasingly emphasizing
interdisciplinary training, reflecting similar trends in research. Our plan reflects this
need. We also hope to contribute to increased interaction among the disciplines by
training students to appreciate the differences and similarities among the approaches.
We designed our tour of decision-theoretic ideas so that students might emerge
with their own overall philosophy of decision making and statistics. Ideally that phi-
losophy will be the result of contact with some of the key ideas and controversies
in the different fields. We attempted to put the contributions of each article into
some historical perspective and to highlight developments that followed. We also
developed a consistent unified notation for the entire material and emphasized the
relationships among different disciplines and points of view. Most lectures include
current-day materials, methods, and results, and try at the same time to preserve the
viewpoint and flavor of the original contributions.
With few exceptions, the mathematical level of the book is basic. Advanced
calculus and intermediate statistical inference are useful prerequisites, but an enter-
prising student can profit from most of the the book even without this background.
The challenging aspect of the book lies in the swift pace at which each lecture
introduces new and different concepts and points of view.
Some lectures have grown beyond the size that can be delivered during a 1 12 hour
session. Some others merge materials that were often taught as two separate lectures.
But for the most part, the lecture–session correspondence should work reasonably
well. The style is also closer to that of transcribed lecture notes than that of a treatise.
Each lecture is completed by worked examples and exercises that have been helpful
to us in teaching this material. Many proofs, easy and hard, are left to the student.

Acknowledgments
We have intellectual debt to more people than we can list, but a special place in this
list is occupied by courses we took and lecture notes we read. Giovanni’s course at
Duke was initially developed from two main sources. The first is the lectures from
Teddy Seidenfeld’s course on the Foundations of Statistics. Giovanni only took it five
times—he will firmly hold he did not choose the stopping rule: left to his own devices
he would have taken that class forever. The second is the lectures from Schervish’s
course on Advanced Statistics, from which his book on the theory of statistics would
ultimately develop. We also had access to a very insightful bootleg of Charles Stein’s
lecture notes at Stanford, from an edition of the course taught by Persi Diaconis.
Dennis Lindley reviewed an early draft and gave very constructive comments and
encouragement. Other anonymous reviewers gave helpful feedback. Bruno Sansó
used our notes to teach his class at the University of California at Santa Cruz, and
gave us detailed comments. We have used our notes in teaching for over a decade.
Many students braved earlier drafts, gave useful feedback through questions, con-
versations, solutions to problems, and sometimes highly informative puzzled looks.
Martin McIntosh shared his precious correspondence with Herman Chernoff.
 PREFACE xv

Both of us are grateful to Hedibert Lopes, with whom our long journey to writing
this book had started back in the mid 1990s. His notes from Giovanni’s classes were
used extensively in early versions of this book, and some figures, problems, and
examples still carry his hallmark.
Lurdes is thankful to Sergio Wechsler who opened the door to new ways of think-
ing about statistics and introducing her to decision theory. She thanks Giovanni for
inviting her on this journey, which through bumps and laughter has been a life-
time experience. She cannot wait for the next one (well, give and take some time
off for her recovery from the thrill!). She wishes to thank the loving support from
her brothers Roberto, Carlos, and Silvio and from her uncles Masao, Olinda, and
Tadazumi. Finally, her loving gratitude goes to her parents, Satie and Kasuo, and her
grandmother Matta, for the inspiring memories and lessons that guide Lurdes.
Giovanni still has mixed feelings about the day Marco Scarsini handed him a
copy of Wald’s book on decision functions, with the assignment of reporting on it to
an undergraduate discussion group. Later Michele Cifarelli, Guido Consonni, Morrie
DeGroot, Jay Kadane, Teddy Seidenfeld, Mark Schervish, Nick Polson, Don Berry,
Pietro Muliere, Peter Müller, and David Matchar fueled his intellectual passion for
rational decision making. Giovanni’s wife Francesca is a statistician who, despite
her impact on national policy making at various levels, is a bit bored by the kind of
decision theory her husband favors, and perhaps baffled by the scant influence all
the talking about rationality has had on his personal behavior. Nevertheless, she has
been fully supportive of this never-ending project, in more ways than one can list.
Giovanni thinks working with Lurdes has been absolutely fantastic. He has not told
her yet, but he is already thinking about notation changes for the second edition . . .

Giovanni Parmigiani, Lurdes Y. T. Inoue

Acknowledgments

1. Page 15; Extracted from Savage LJ (1981a). A panel discussion of personal

probability, The writings of Leonard Jimmie Savage – A memorial Selec-
tion, American Statistical Association, Alexandria, VA, pp. 508–513, American
Statistical Association.
2. Pages 16, 22; Extracted from de Finetti, B. (1937). Foresight: its logical laws,
its subjective sources, in H. E. Kyburg and H. E. Smokler (eds.), Studies in
Subjective Probability, Krieger, New York, pp. 55–118.
3. Pages 24–25; Extracted from Goldstein, M. (1983). The prevision of a previ-
sion, Journal of the American Statistical Association 78: 817–819, American
Statistical Association.
4. Pages 36–37, 48, 82–83, 88, 115–116; Extracted from Savage, L. J. (1954). The
foundations of statistics, John Wiley & Sons, Inc., New York.
5. Page 38; Extracted from Bonferroni, C. (1924). La media esponenziale in
matematica finanziaria, Annuario del Regio Istituto Superiore di Scienze Eco-
nomiche e Commerciali di Bari, Vol. 23–24, pp. 1–14, Regio Istituto Superiore
di Scienze Economiche e Commerciali di Bari.
6. Pages 61, 63; Extracted from Pratt, J. (1964). Risk aversion in the small and in
the large, Econometrica 32: 122–136, The Econometric Society.
7. Page 93; Extracted from Ellsberg, D. (1961). Risk, ambiguity and the savage
axioms, Quarterly Journal of Economics 75: 643–669, The MIT Press.
8. Page 93; Extracted from Gärdenfors, P. and Sahlin, N.-E. (1988). Decision,
Probability and Utility, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge.
9. Pages 97–98; Extracted from Savage, L. J. (1981a). A panel discussion of
personal probability, The writings of Leonard Jimmie Savage – A memo-
rial selection, American Statistical Association, Alexandria, VA, pp. 508–513,
American Statistical Association.
10. Page 99; Extracted from Anscombe, F. J. and Aumann, R. J. (1963). A defini-
tion of subjective probability, Annals of Mathematical Statistics 34: 199–205,
Institute of Mathematical Statistics.
11. Page 103; Extracted from Schervish, M. J., Seidenfeld, T. and Kadane, J. B.
(1990). State-dependent utilities, Journal of the American Statistical Association
85: 840–847, American Statistical Association.
12. Page 111; Extracted from Edgeworth, F. Y. (1887). The method of measuring
probability and utility, Mind 12 (47): 484–488, Oxford University Press.
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Childs, prepare to be shaved by the King of the Seas, a ceremony
that will make you a true child of the ocean!"
His shirt had been stripped off his back. A speaking-trumpet was
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"Are you, O landsman, prepared to become a true salt?"
"I am!" Samuel said boldly.
"Apply the brush!"
When the bandage was removed from the victim's eyes, someone
stood before him dressed like Neptune, with gray hair and beard and
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the speaking-trumpet. In a sailor's hand was a paint brush that had
been dipped in tar. With this thin tar Samuel was lathered, the tar
being later removed with fat and oakum.
Neptune then said: "You may now become an able seaman. You may
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Samuel was again blindfolded. When the bandage was removed,
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swing back to southwest I went too far in the other direction, and
was steering southwest by west. In a few hours, however, I had
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dirty work of tarring, painting and cleaning. Yet I never took the
helm without thinking of how my father had been killed at the wheel
of the Hyder Ally.
Whistling aboard ship was a custom disliked by the old sailors. They
entertained a superstition that he who whistled was "whistling for
the wind." On one of my first nights at sea, feeling lonesome, I
puckered my lips and began to blow a tune. Along came Samuel. He
paused beside my berth.
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When we were within the vicinity of the capes, there came a calm
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"Compliments of Captain Van Dyke, of His Majesty's ship Elizabeth,"
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"It's a high-handed proceeding," said Murad, his black eyes
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The lieutenant passed down the line, scrutinizing the protection
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my turn came, I began to turn cold with dread, for, fearing that I
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"Please sir," I said, "I shipped without taking the trouble to get a
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I have a brother who is a prisoner in Algiers, and I expect to join the
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He laughed. "If we robbed you of a father, I think it's due you to be
allowed to go your own way. I should say that your brother requires
your aid more than we do, so I'll take your word for it that you're a
Yankee. Better not go to sea again without a protection paper. I
happen to be a particularly tender-hearted officer."
He went down the side.
Samuel Childs gave me a slap on the back that took my breath away.
"Youngster," he said, "that's the first time I've seen a British officer
pass by an American without papers. Blast them, if they would give
their men better pay and stop flogging them through the fleet for
offences hardly worth one lash, they wouldn't have to be taking us
to fill the places of their deserters!"
It was a grand though often terrifying sight to see the ship in a
storm flying beneath leaden clouds. With the main topsail and fore
topmast staysail close reefed; with the masts tipping over as if they
were going to plunge their tops into the sea; with spray showering
upon us; with mountainous waves following us as if they would
topple their full weight over our stern; it was a sight to make one
both marvel and tremble.
In such a storm we lost James Murray, an ordinary seamen, well-
liked by all.
We were in a heavy sea. The clouds were so low that they
enveloped our mastheads. Tremendous waves beat against our bow,
so that our plunging stem was like a knife cutting a way through
them. All hands were called to shorten sail as the wind increased
into a gale. The men who were light of weight went out along the
yardarms, while the heavier men remained closer to the mast. The
upper mizzen topsail was being furled when a sudden gust of wind
blew the sail out of their grasp.
Murray, who was one of the outermost men, was thrown off the yard
into the sea. As the great waves tossed him up, we saw him
struggling to swim, handicapped as he was by his heavy oil-skins. A
boat was cleared away and volunteers were called for to endeavor to
rescue Murray. I stood forth with the rest of the crew—I saw no one
hold back—but a crew of our strongest men was chosen, and all we
could do was to stand on a yard and watch the progress of the little
boat. The seas poured into her. We could see two of her men baling
desperately. At last we lost sight of her in the mists. An hour later,
when we were worrying greatly over the fate not only of Murray, but
also of the boat's crew, the mist cleared and showed our location to
the men struggling out there in the furious ocean. They gradually
made their way towards us and were pulled on deck exhausted.
They said that they had caught one glimpse of Murray, but as they
pulled desperately to reach him the mist had drifted between him
and them—a mist that was to him as a shroud.
 CHAPTER VI
MUTINY

"'Twas on a Black Baller I first served my time,

Yo ho, blow the man down!
And on that Black Baller I wasted my prime,
Oh, give me some time to blow the man down!"

Murad had been forced to ship some of the toughest rascals in

Baltimore in order to complete his crew. They were men who had
gotten into trouble through acts of violence ashore, and were forced
to take to sea. They, too, had heard rumors that Murad was a spy in
the employ of the Barbary powers, but it did not seem to bother
them. I am of the opinion that they meant to seize the vessel before
it had sailed out of sight of the Atlantic coast.
If such was their plan, Mr. Bludsoe, the mate, was their chief
obstacle. He was a fearless, muscular man, and a belaying-pin in his
hand was a deadly weapon. Even in a plain fist fight he was equal to
two of them. He was not overfond of the Egyptian, yet he was the
sort of person who stuck to a task once he had entered on it.
He suspected Steve Dunn and his crowd of an intention to murder
the officers and seize the ship, and told the skipper of his suspicions.
Murad gave orders that we should be mustered before him. We were
under the guns of an American frigate when the orders were issued,
and the crew obeyed promptly.
"You men have far more weapons on your persons than is
necessary," the Egyptian said smoothly. "In the interest of good
fellowship, and to keep you from slashing and shooting at each
other, I desire you to leave your knives and pistols in my care. Mr.
Bludsoe, you will search the men's berths and bags and bring to me
for safe-keeping any weapons you find!"
I saw sullen glances exchanged by Steve Dunn, Mulligan and other
members of the crew.
"We ain't none of us planning any trouble among ourselves!" said
Steve. "We don't know when this here vessel is going to be boarded
by pirates and we want our weapons handy!"
"Handy they shall be!" said Murad, still smiling. "It would be too bad
to start ill-feeling between you and me by your disobeying this, my
first request. It would bode ill for our voyage. I was once an admiral
in the Sultan's navy. I know how to make men obey orders. I should
hate to have to ask the captain of yonder frigate to send a crew
aboard to help me make my crew obey. Throw down your knives.
You have them sharpened to a point that makes an honest man
shiver. My good fellows, show me what a good crew I have by
obeying me—at once!"
His voice rang on the last two words. The men dropped their dirks
on the deck. There was a motion of Steve's hand towards the inside
of his shirt as the skipper stooped to pick up one of the knives, but
Murad seemed to have eyes in the back of his head.
"Look, Mr. Bludsoe," he said, straightening himself swiftly, "Steve
Dunn has a second knife that he wants to give up!"
He pulled a pistol from his pocket. "Give us the hidden knives too,
men! This pistol might go off if I am kept waiting too long!"
Mr. Bludsoe had returned with an armful of weapons. He deposited
them at the skipper's back and went down the line, feeling for dirks.
He found two. Ending his search, he ordered the men to go forward.
In spite of these precautions, the men continued to grow rebellious.
The man who relieved Samuel Childs at the wheel disobeyed orders.
When Mr. Bludsoe scolded him he gave impudence.
After a scuffle, in which several of the loyal members of the crew,
including Samuel Childs and myself, went to Mr. Bludsoe's
assistance, this man, Bryan by name, was put in irons.
"Holystone the decks!" the next order given after this episode,
brought no response from seven members of the crew. They
outnumbered the officers and the loyal sailors. If we had not taken
possession of their arms, we should have been in a bad way. The
men came forward towards the Egyptian.
"Release Bryan if you want us to work!" Steve called.
"I am the master of this ship!" said Murad calmly, "Bryan is in irons
for disobedience. Others of the crew who refuse to obey orders will
be treated as mutineers. You know the punishment for that!
Holystone the decks!"
They folded their arms and stood glowering at the skipper.
"I shall starve them into submission!" Murad said to the mate.
Two days passed. The men stayed forward. The officers made no
attempt to give them orders. Fortunately, the weather remained
calm, and the few of us who were loyal were sufficient to handle the
sails. If a tempest came, we would be in a serious situation.
"They will attack like starved wolves tonight!" said Mr. Bludsoe to
Burke, Ross and myself, "I shall give each of you a pistol. Your own
lives are at stake. Shoot any man of them who comes aft."
The first man who came aft, however, we did not shoot.
I was the first to catch sight of his figure stealing away from the
forecastle. I fear that my voice trembled when I cried:
"Halt! Throw up your hands!"
"It's Reynolds," he said, "Take me to the skipper. I want to throw
myself on his mercy. Intercede for me, lad. I've had my fill of that
gang yonder!"
The captain and mate had joined me. "It's the first break in their
ranks," he said, "and I'll take advantage of the chance to show them
that they can still surrender without being strung up."
He turned to me.
"Give Reynolds biscuits and coffee! He will take the wheel after that,
and if he fails us there we'll——"
He whirled his hand around his neck and then pointed to a yardarm
in a way that emphasized his meaning far more than words could
have done.
The surrender of Reynolds led us to hope that others were on the
verge of yielding. We questioned Reynolds as he ate ravenously the
food we brought him. He was whole-heartedly aiding us now,
because he knew that if the mutineers triumphed it would go hard
with him.
He said that if we could show the men that we were powerful
enough to conquer Steve Dunn and Mulligan, the ringleaders, the
others would be glad to go back to work.
"It's those two who're to blame for us not yielding sooner," he
explained. "We had planned twelve hours ago to come out and
throw ourselves on the skipper's mercy, but Mulligan knocked me
down when I suggested it. He thought that he had me cowed, and
that I would be afraid to make any further attempt. He stationed me
as a guard at the forecastle scuttle tonight, while he planned with
the others just how they would attack you. If they could get rid of
the skipper and the mate, they thought it would be easy to bring the
others over to their side. I expect they'll be crawling out very soon to
make the attempt."
"Captain," said Mr. Bludsoe, "I think I can end this. There are lads in
that forecastle whom I don't want to see hung for mutiny. They
resent our trying to starve them into submission, and I'm afraid the
longer they go without food, the more desperate they'll become.
May I promise them that if they come forth peacefully and go to
work you will take no steps to enforce the laws against them?"
Murad had been plainly worried by the rebellion. We were out of the
track of American frigates, and we still had a long voyage before us.
If a storm came, the few loyal men would find themselves overtaxed
in managing the vessel, and while they were endeavoring to save
the ship, the mutineers would have an opportunity to do murder.
I could not help wondering, too, whether the Egyptian was not
fearful as to the effect the mutiny would have on his treasure hunt,
for the more I studied him, the deeper became my conviction that
he had secured possession of the rector's secret, and, under the
pretext of going on a trading voyage, was off on a solitary treasure
quest. One of my duties was to keep the cabin clean and tidy, and
when opportunity offered I had poked in chests and cubby-holes to
see if I could find the rector's map of the treasure country. My
hurried searches had failed thus far.
Thoughts kindred to mine must have been running through Murad's
mind, for he consented to Mr. Bludsoe's proposal.
"But I warn you against entering the forecastle!" he said, "Better talk
to them at a distance. Keep them well covered with your pistols.
They've found weapons!"
The mate went forward. I had conceived a strong admiration for
him, and, on an impulse I followed his shadowy figure as it crept
along the starboard side, past the galley, towards the forecastle
hatchway. Ross and Burke, not to be outdone, strung along behind
us.
Mr. Bludsoe had reached the forecastle hatch without meeting a
person. I expected to hear him yell his message down the hatchway,
which was open, but instead I saw his black figure leap into the
yellow glare that came up from the forecastle lantern. He had leaped
down into the room.
I crept up to the scuttle, and leaned down the hatchway, cutlass in
hand. I was determined to fight in the mate's defence if necessary,
though I knew that my cutlass, with only a youth's arm behind it,
was a poor weapon against desperate men, even if they were only
armed with dirks.
The men had been standing in the center of the forecastle, and
seemed to have been on the verge of rushing forth to attack us.
Reynold's desertion had not been noted by them, and they had
evidently thought that the person leaping into the room was their
sentinel. The mate's spring, therefore, took them by surprise. They
glanced uncertainly up the ladder, saw the flash of my cutlass, and
thought that our entire force was back of Mr. Bludsoe. It was a
reasonable conclusion, for who would have dreamed that the mate
would have done so bold a thing.
Knives flashed. "Here's one of them," Steve cried, "thought he'd
starved the strength out of us, I reckon. We'll show him!"
Bludsoe put his back against the ladder and leveled his pistols at the
most menacing mutineers.
"Men," he said, "I can kill four of you before you down me. There
are others waiting to take care of the rest. Listen—I haven't come
down here to shoot—I'm trying to end this row and save you from
the gallows. Some of you have never been in trouble before. Some
of you are married men. It's no use trying to budge the skipper. You
won't get a bite to eat until you start to work. If you hold out
another twelve hours the chances are some frigate will see our
signals and take you to where you'll get short shrift. Come now,
throw down your knives and——"
A heavy boot, viciously aimed, knocked me aside. Its owner jumped
across my body and leapt towards the scuttle.
I saw the huge bulk of Mulligan pass me. He had been out to
reconnoiter and we had passed him in the darkness.
"Look out! Mulligan's behind you!" I cried.
A shot was fired.
I crept in despair towards the hatchway. I was unable to interpret
from the sounds and curses that issued from the forecastle what had
happened, and feared that I should see Mr. Bludsoe trampled upon
by those he had tried to rescue from their own folly. Yet, as I raised
my head to peer down, I heard his voice ring out:
"There's no need for anyone else to pay the price Mulligan has paid.
Down with your weapons!"
Dirks and pistols clattered to the deck. Some of the points of the
knives stuck into the timber. I looked at these shivering blades and
thanked Providence that they had found lodging there instead of in
the mate's breast.
Out they came, sullen but subdued. Mr. Bludsoe drove them aft with
his pistol points.
"Thank you, lad," he said, as he passed me, "I owe my life to you!"
I peered down into the forecastle. Under the smoky lamp lay
Mulligan—a huge, motionless mass. Blood flowed from his temple.
The wind had died; the sun was hidden in haze; the sky darkened;
the barometer fell. "We'll be in the midst of a tempest soon," Samuel
Childs whispered to me, "if the rebels had held out they might have
had the ship at their mercy."
"Call all hands to shorten sail," the skipper said calmly to Mr.
Bludsoe.
The ship was made snug; the sails were furled; the spars, water
casks, and boats were lashed; the hatches were battened down.
Seeing that the men were thoroughly cowed, the skipper passed the
word to the cook to serve them with breakfast. From the galley
came the sound of pots and pans. The peace meal was ready.
 CHAPTER VII
BETRAYED

It grew warmer as we approached Gibraltar. Flying fish arose from

the water and shot over the surface like silver arrows. Porpoises
frolicked around us. Flocks of sea-gulls followed us as we passed the
southern coast of Europe. Through the Azores we sailed until we
came in sight of the red cliffs of St. Vincent, on the Portugal coast.
Then we entered the Straits of Gibraltar and caught our first sight of
the mountainous African coast.
I had better note here that three continents form the shores of the
Mediterranean Sea—Europe, Asia and Africa. The entrance to this
sea from the Atlantic is guarded by the Pillars of Hercules, formed by
Gibraltar on the European shore and "the Mount of God" on the
African side. These pillars, it interested me to discover, were thought
by the ancients to have been left standing by Hercules as
monuments to his might when he tore asunder the continents. It will
be remembered that along the sea these monuments of nature
guarded, civilization had been cradled. Art, architecture, law, poetry,
drama, and religion had come into being on these coasts. The
treasure tomb that now nightly filled my dreams had doubtless been
laid in these early days.
And now, as the events of my story have so much to do with this
North African shore, let us have a clear understanding of its cities
and people. The coast is called Barbary, because the race that
inhabits it are named Berbers. They belong to the same stock as the
Anglo-Saxons and many of them have fair complexions, rosy cheeks
and light hair. They are fanatical Mohammedans, and despise us
because we are Christians. The Moors and Arabs, who are
descended from the Mussulman warriors who captured Africa
centuries ago, abound here too, and are the people with whom our
quarrel lies.
Barbary is sometimes called Little Africa. It extends from Egypt to
the Atlantic Ocean and from the Mediterranean Sea back to the
Sahara desert. Just over the way from Gibraltar lies Morocco. It is a
little city with white walls surrounded by great hills. Most of the cities
of Barbary are similarly situated between mountains and water.
Next to the province of Morocco, lies Algeria, and farther on is
Tripoli, the farthest boundary of which adjoins Egypt.
Algeria, I learned, is five times as large as Pennsylvania. Algiers, one
of the largest cities on the coast, is its capital. Walls of stone have
been built across the harbor as fortifications. Algiers resembles an
amphitheatre. Its streets rise on terraces. The streets are narrow;
bazaars are everywhere. These are roofed over with matting and
lined with booths in which all sorts of goods are sold. The booths are
nothing more or less than holes in the walls in which the dealer sits,
while the customers stand out in the street and buy. One bazaar is
given over to the shoemakers; another bazaar is devoted to jewelry;
still another is set apart for the sale of perfumery. Tailors, saddlers,
rug sellers—each trade has a separate bazaar. Here are shops selling
carpets and rugs, and there is a café in which Turkish coffee, as
sweet as molasses, may be sipped. Yonder is the stand of an Arab
selling sweetmeats; beyond him a man in a long gown fries meat
and sells it hot from the fire.
There are solid-looking public buildings, and a great mosque that
covers several acres. A turbaned priest from the minaret which rises
far above the roofs of the shops and homes calls out the hour of
prayer, and the Mohammedans kneel.
A picturesque crowd pours through the dark, narrow streets. Arabs
in long gowns; brown Arabs from the desert; Berbers from their
country villages; Jewish girls in plain long robes of bright colors—
pink, red, green, and yellow; Moorish women in veils; Berber girls
with their rosy faces exposed; boys with shaved heads, wearing
gowns and skull caps; holy men and beggars innumerable. Some of
these veiled Mohammedan wives are only thirteen years old.
We anchored off Sale, a harbor of Morocco. I heard our skipper tell
the mate that he proposed to go ashore and inquire into the chances
of disposing of part of our cargo to advantage.
No sooner had he left the ship than I, whose task it was to keep
Murad's quarters tidy, began to make a thorough search of his
belongings. I was seeking that which only my suspicions told me
existed—the map showing the location of the treasure.
There was a sea chest in the cabin which Murad kept locked. In
another room of the ship, however, I had found a similar chest. The
key to this one I had taken, hoping that it would open the Egyptian's
strong-box. In this experiment I was fortunate—the key turned in
the lock as if it were made to fit it, and the lid was loosened.
I found in the top of the chest the volume that had been stolen from
the rector's library. The trail was hot. There was, however, no map
between its pages. Deeper into the chest I plunged. At the bottom I
pried up a false bottom and found a paper. It seemed to be a copy
instead of an original. I concluded that if this was the diagram of the
treasure site, Murad had taken ashore the original, and had left this
one aboard in case he lost the first one.
The map was simple enough. It showed a section of the southern
coast of the Mediterranean. The towns Tripoli and Derne were
indicated. Between them was a village lettered Tokra. In the
neighborhood of this spot were queer markings, which were
explained by writing at the bottom of the map. When I tried to
decipher this I found that it was in Arabic. The original was
doubtless in English. Murad, in copying, had doubtless changed the
English to Arabic to keep the secret from prying eyes.
Towards midnight—while I was on watch—I heard a noise on the
water from the direction of shore. It sounded like rowing, and yet it
was too indistinct a sound for me to make certain. I decided that
Murad had given up his idea of spending the night ashore and was
returning. However, I asked Mr. Bludsoe to listen.
"Oars!" he said, his ear cocked over the landward side.
He listened again. "There are three boats at least!" he whispered, "it
looks like an attack. Pass the word for all hands!"
By this time both watches were on deck. Pistols and cutlasses were
passed out. We lined up along the bulwarks, peering out.
The mate stood near me. I heard him thinking aloud. "So this is the
way our precious skipper protects us from corsairs?" he muttered,
"He goes ashore and an attack follows. Looks queer. Wonder what
slaves are worth in Morocco? Maybe he's planning to sell a double
cargo—goods and men!"
We could hear the sounds plainly now. The splash of the oars struck
with a chill more than one of us, but we gripped our weapons and
made up our minds to sell our lives dearly.
Mr. Bludsoe had been sweeping the sea with a night glass. "They are
near us, men—four boats, swarming with cutthroats!"
He peered over the rail and shouted:
"On board the boats! This is an American schooner with whom you
have no business. Come nearer at your peril!"
Still the boats came on. The steady beat of the oars tightened our
nerves almost to the snapping point.
The mate shouted a second warning. It was not heeded. "It's either
their lives or ours," he said to us, "Pick out your marks. Fire!"
Our cannon belched forth flame. Shrieks and curses took the place
of the splash of oars. We saw two boatloads of men pouring into the
water, snatching at the remnants of their cutters. On board the
remaining two boats was havoc and confusion. We saw these boats
at last turn stern and make for the shore.
One of the boats managed to escape our fire and came up against
the schooner on the farther side. This boat was not in the group we
had first sighted, and in the excitement of the battle, it stole up on
us without discovery. I chanced to turn in its direction just in time to
see a dark head appear above the bulwarks. I caught up a cutlass
and ran with a cry to cleave the fellow's head. He ducked, and my
blade cut into the rail. The mate, with more presence of mind, had
caught up a heavy shot from beside the Long Tom and called upon
others to follow his example. Down into the boat they dropped the
balls, smashing heads and smashing boat. Before her crew could get
a foothold on our chains, she filled with water and sank. In this
fashion we met and overcame our greatest danger.
"Lower away a boat!" said Mr. Bludsoe, "we can't let those wretches
out there drown without making some attempt at rescue!"
We rowed out and brought in three men and a lad.
Mr. Bludsoe questioned them by the light of a lantern. We gathered
around in a circle. The boy could talk Spanish, which the mate also
could speak. They were dark, half-naked creatures, with something
of the appearance of sleek rats as the water dripped from their
glossy, matted hair.
Two of the Moslems were sullen and made no responses to the
mate's query. One, however, was explosive. His rage was directed
not against us, but against some one of his own party.
"Who is responsible for this attack? Answer truly, unless you want to
swung from yonder yardarm!" Mr. Bludsoe threatened.
The fiery individual, with frantic gestures, poured a response
intended for our mate into the lad's ears.
"The captain of your ship betrayed you," said the interpreter with
rolling eyes and flashing teeth. "He betrayed us too. He said that it
would be easy for us to capture you because he had assured you
that you were free from attack. He led us to believe that the guns
had been spiked and the weapons thrown overboard."
Mr. Bludsoe turned to the crew. "Murad made such an attempt. I
found him fooling with the cannon and scared him off. I suspected
him after that, and gave him no chance. He's sold us in advance to
the pirates of Morocco. They'll be putting out in pursuit of us as soon
as they learn of the failure!"
He had scarcely spoken when two lateen sails could be seen moving
out from shore. We were becalmed, and capture seemed certain.
"We can't beat off their warships! Man the longboat!" Mr. Bludsoe
ordered, "We'll have to trust to yonder mist to hide us. We ought to
be able to reach the Spanish coast if it holds!"
The moon had been clouded by a fog. We could feel the haze
settling upon us. The change seemed to precede a storm.
With the war-ships nearly upon us, we rowed off into the haze,
taking the prisoners with us.
When we were a league from the shore, we heard a gun fired. I
thought that the corsairs, who by this time had doubtless found that
we had deserted the ship, were cruising in search of us and had
fired the gun in our direction. No balls struck the water near us,
however, and we rowed on desperately.
Mr. Bludsoe questioned Mustapha. "It is the hurricane signal on
shore," the youth explained. "It means that the barometer has fallen
tremendously, and that a storm's on the way. You need have no fear
of pursuit. The ships that came out to attack you will seek shelter
now. We shall all sink if you do not make for the beach!"
Mr. Bludsoe ordered us to row towards the Moroccan shore, in a
direction that would take us clear of the harbor. Heavy gusts of wind
beat down upon us and floods of rain poured over our straining
muscles. The wind became a gale and threatened to come with
greater intensity. Furious waves leaped up on every side to swallow
our boat. We gave up hope of reaching the shore, and rowed on
expecting every uncertain stroke of our oars to be the last.
Suddenly Mr. Bludsoe's voice rang out calm and strong through the
tempest. "There's a ship ahead. It must be one of those that came
out to attack us. Yet it's better to take our chances aboard her than
to stay in this sea. Pull towards her!"
The ship loomed up larger than we had expected. Her sails were cut
differently from those of the corsairs. Against the gray of the storm
we caught sight of the American flag.
"By all that's holy," the mate cried, "she's a Yankee frigate!"
The frigate, whose commander was shifting her to the shelter of the
harbor, caught sight of us as we plunged towards her bow. Willing
hands dipped down to help us climb over her side.
The frigate's name was George Washington. Her commander,
Captain William Bainbridge, was bearing to the Dey of Algiers certain
presents. With great joy I learned that peace had been made
between Algiers and the United States, and that Alexander and his
comrades were on their way home. Of these things I shall have
more to tell later. We were not yet out of danger. The hurricane now
seemed to be concentrated over us. The wind's force must have
been over a hundred miles an hour. The tremendous gusts struck
the heavy vessel with the force of battering rams and drove her
forward as if she were a cockle-shell. We could see the shore
looming up.
"Rocks!" someone shouted. We were within a hundred yards of them
when a miracle happened. The wind shifted its fury. It now blew in a
twisting fashion from the shore. Our ship turned with it. On another
side of the harbor there was a beach of yielding sand. Beating
behind us with the same terrific force, the hurricane sent the nose of
the frigate into the sand in a way that held her more firmly than a
hundred anchors.
Here we stayed without listing. The first part of the cyclone lasted
about two hours. There was a lull and we thought the storm was
over. It returned an hour later, however, in all of its fury, and we
expected every moment to be torn from our haven and hurled
across the harbor to destruction—a fate that we could now see had
overtaken many vessels, for the shore was lined with wrecks.
Whistling, roaring, devastating, it whirled over us, lashing the waves
until they dashed with savage force over our decks. Our only comfort
was that the onslaughts gradually decreased in strength, and we
saw the barometer rise rapidly from its lowest point.
On shore, storehouses, castles, and residences were unroofed or
demolished entirely.
Spars, masts, and parts of wharves floated on top of the waves. I
shuddered as my eyes rested on a dead body floating amidst a mass
of wreckage. It seemed providential that we were not floating
corpses.
A wreck lay near us. She had overturned and the water was washing
across her deck. She had a familiar look. Her stern was towards us. I
caught a glimpse of her name and read The Rose of Egypt.
Murad had played upon a youth's imagination to lead him into a
trap. The rascal's gift at story-telling had been drawn upon to add
me to those he hoped to lead into captivity that he might obtain
ransoms. He also, no doubt, had it in his mind to revenge himself on
the commodore by persecuting one of whom the sailor was fond. As
my knowledge of Barbary grew, I saw that it was quite possible for
Murad to act as a spy for one or all of these Barbary rulers. America
was a new country. The corsair princes desired information as to
how rich she was; what they had to fear from her navy, etc. It came
out later that secret discussions in Congress upon the subject of the
Barbary powers were promptly reported to the Dey of Algiers, so
that when our envoys came to negotiate with him he threw their
secrets into their faces. But, be that as it may, adventures were
crowding upon me so swiftly that I felt disposed to forgive Murad for
the sake of the thrills he had sent my way.
 CHAPTER VIII
AN AMERICAN FRIGATE BECOMES A
CORSAIR'S CATTLESHIP

When I felt the deck of the George Washington beneath my feet, I

felt a different thrill than that which had run through me when I
stepped aboard The Rose of Egypt. I was a navy lad now, and my
own quest for treasure, that had absorbed all of my attentions,
dwindled before the fact that it was now my duty to consider the
interests of my country more than my own selfish aims.
Moreover I was to meet men, and find adventures, that made my
treasure hunt for the time being a secondary interest. I intended
before I quitted the Barbary coast to make the search; meanwhile I
was content to take what experiences navy life brought me, awaiting
my opportunity to enter the desert in search of the riches. The
Egyptian, I had reason to believe, had been killed in the hurricane.
The secret of the treasure was safe with me. Time would unfold my
opportunity.
As for those who are following this chronicle, let us hope that the
thrilling naval activities these pages will now mirror will be more
absorbing even than the personal experiences I have told about; yet
if any wonder as to the result of my quest for treasure, let me
encourage them by saying that it was the historic events I am now
about to relate that placed me at last in a position to reach the spot
where the jewels and trinkets described by the rector were buried.
My good friend Samuel Childs found an old comrade on board the
George Washington—one Reuben James. The two had been
shipmates in the merchant service. Reuben, though now scarcely
more than a boy, was a veteran sailor. He had gone to sea at the
age of thirteen, had sailed around the world, and had every sort of
experience that comes to a seaman. All of us became members of
the frigate's crew, and Samuel and I were chosen for Reuben's
watch, so that the three of us had many a chance to talk things over.
From Reuben I drew forth an account of the release of Alexander
and the other American captives. It was not until Samuel told him
that I was a brother to one of the captives that he displayed interest
in me; after he had discovered this fact, however, he went out of his
way to be kind to me.

ALEXANDER FREE
"Well do I remember Alexander Forsyth," Reuben said, "and I'll
swear that when I met him at Marseilles, where he was awaiting a
passage home after his release from bloody Algiers, he was the
nearest thing to a dead man that I have ever seen alive! He looked
like a skeleton with a beating heart! Mark my word, he'll never go to
sea again! What can you expect—after years of cruelty, starvation,
sickness, chain-dragging!"
"You see," Reuben said in excuse for our statesmen, "our
Congressmen had other important things to worry about: Indian
uprisings, trouble at sea with England and France; a union to form
between the bickering commonwealths, finances to raise for running
the government, and what not? A few sailors imprisoned in an out-
of-the-way part of the world were apt to be forgotten!"
The fresh captures by the pirates that brought about the settlement
had, I was informed, happened in this manner:
When the Portuguese warships withdrew from guarding the Straits
of Gibraltar, the Algerine cruisers entered the Atlantic in four ships
and swooped down on unsuspecting American vessels. Eleven of our
ships were captured by corsairs. Their crews were taken as slaves to
Algiers, and, added to those already held in captivity, increased the
number to one hundred and fifteen.
The Swedish consul warned Colonel Humphreys, our minister to
Portugal, that Bassara, a Jew slave-broker at Algiers, through whom
the United States was trying to procure the release of the captives,
was out of favor with the Dey, and that to succeed the business
should be transferred to the Jew Bacri. This was done, and an
agreement soon followed.
Captain O'Brien was sent to Lisbon to get from Colonel Humphreys
the money the United States promised to pay. Humphreys was
forced to send O'Brien to London to borrow the funds, but, on
account of the unsettled condition of European politics, O'Brien failed
in his mission. The Dey, vexed at the delay, threatened to abandon
the treaty. Upon this a frigate was offered by the American envoys
as an inducement to hold to the treaty, while Bacri himself advanced
the necessary gold. The prisoners were then released and sent in
Bacri's ship Fortune to Marseilles, where the American consul,
Stephen Cathalan, Jr., secured a passage home for them in the
Swedish ship Jupiter.
What I had learned of the insolence of the Barbary rulers had come
to me thus far only by hearsay. I was now to see an example of it
with my own eyes.
While I was thus gathering the details of Alexander's tardy release,
the George Washington was proceeding from Morocco to Algiers,
Captain Bainbridge having been ordered by our government to
deliver presents to the Algerine prince. Before leaving Morocco,
Captain Bainbridge, who had heard the story of the assault upon us
with amazement and anger, demanded of the Dey of Morocco that
he surrender to him the Egyptian, Murad, for the action of our
government.
Word came back that a search had been made for Murad but that no
person such as we described could be found in the city. Punishment
for those who had attacked us was also requested, but the oily
monarch protested that his officers could find no citizens who had
attempted such a raid. Baffled, we went on our way.
I looked over the rail towards the frowning castles of Algiers in huge
disgust. Yet I was curious to see the town in which Alexander had
been enslaved, and Captain Bainbridge, knowing of my relationship
to one of the released Americans, provided a way that I might enter
the palace as one of his attendants when he went with Consul
O'Brien to pay his supposed respects to the Dey.
By listening to the English renegade who acted as interpreter
between our officers and the ruler, I gathered that the Dey was in
trouble with his overlord, the Sultan of Turkey, because he had made
peace with France while Turkey, then allied with England, was
making war on the French forces in Egypt.
To appease the wrath of the Sultan, the Dey had decided to send to
that monarch at Constantinople an ambassador bearing valuable
gifts. With amazing cheek, he now asked Consul O'Brien to lend him
the frigate George Washington for the purpose of bearing the envoy
and his train. Captain Bainbridge blushed. "It is impossible for an
American naval officer to carry out such a mission," I heard him cry.
"Your ship is anchored under my batteries. My gunner will sink her if
you refuse!" the Dey said with a scowl.
"That is no work for an American ship," Captain Bainbridge said.
"Aren't Americans my slaves? Don't they pay tribute to me?" the Dey
demanded. "I now command you to carry my embassy!"
I felt like rushing forward and choking the creature, and I saw from
Captain Bainbridge's look that it was all that he could do to restrain
himself from drawing his sword and plunging it into the fat stomach
of the beast.
Consul O'Brien came forth with soothing words. He advised
Bainbridge to obey the ruler, and Bainbridge, because of the superior
authority of the consul, was forced to consent.
"Shade of Washington!" he exclaimed, when he returned aboard
ship, "behold thy sword hung on a slave to serve a pirate! I never
thought to find a corner of this world where an American would
stoop to baseness. History shall tell how the United States first
volunteered a ship of war, equipped, as a carrier for a pirate. It is
written. Nothing but blood can blot the impression out."
We heard that he wrote thus to the Navy Department:

"I hope I may never again be sent to Algiers with tribute, unless
I be authorized to deliver it from the mouth of the cannon."

THE VOYAGE TO CONSTANTINOPLE

When the ambassador to Constantinople came on board, his suite
and following were enough to make angels laugh. There were one
hundred Moslems attending him. Many of the officers brought their
wives and children. In addition there were four horses, twenty-five
horned cattle, four lions, four tigers, four antelopes, and twelve
parrots. The money and regalia loaded as presents for the Sultan
were valued at a million dollars.
When our frigate reached the two forts that commanded the
entrance to Constantinople, Captain Bainbridge decided that he
would save the time that would be spent in entering the port in the
usual formal way. We approached the anchorage as if we meant to
come to a stop. We clewed up our courses, let go the topsails, and
seemed to be complying with the rules of the port. Then our
commander ordered that a salute be fired, but, when the guns of
the fort replied, he ordered sail to be made under cover of the
smoke. By this trick, we passed by the guns under the smoke
screen, and were inside the harbor and beyond range before the
Turks realized it.
An officer rowed out to ask to what country our ship belonged.
"The United States," answered our commander.
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