John Barth - Letters

This 2nd stratagem was more Burlingamish than the 1st, for in addition to “H.B.-ing H.B.,” as Barlow put it (i.e., Burlingaming Hassan Bashaw), we served ourselves in several ways at once. One of the older American prisoners, a certain James Cathcart, had ingratiated himself with the Dey to the point of becoming his English-language secretary & closest non-Moslem advisor; he was also our chief liaison with the other prisoners & our principal go-between with the Dey himself. It was Cathcart’s errand, for example, to relay to Barlow, almost daily, the Bashaw’s impatience that the ransom money had not arrived. Not surprisingly, the Dey’s only other confidant amongst the Infidels — our friend Bacri — was jealous of this secretary, the more since Cathcart was Christian & Bacri Jewish. It was, in fact, in the course of jesting with me on the advantage an atheist like himself ought to have in negotiations involving a Moslem, a Christian, & a Jew, that Barlow hit on his pretty inspiration: if the Dey were to send Cathcart to Philadelphia to supervise construction of the Crescent, we would in a single stroke liberate a chief prisoner, oblige Bacri to us for removing the object of his jealousy, & relieve ourselves of some pressure from the Dey, who could then look to Cathcart instead of us to make good on that part of his extortion. Moreover, Barlow had the wit to see that the idea should appear to be Hassan Bashaw’s own. We discust how it might best be put to him without arousing his suspicion — and it occur’d to me to suggest that Bacri, rather than ourselves, bring up the matter. Not only was he a better hand at insinuation (& at judging the Dey’s moods), but, should the proposal arouse the Bashaw’s suspicion or displeasure, it would fall upon Bacri — who however would have only his diplomacy to blame — rather than upon ourselves.

Barlow embraced me, then waltzt merrily about the room. I was my father’s son, he cried, my father’s son! This was 1 May: a week later Cathcart set out for Philadelphia, scarcely happier than the Dey, who preen’d & strutted at his shrewd idea. Or than Bacri, who — Smollett’s dictum notwithstanding — now clamor’d to return our favor. Or than Barlow, despite his fuming over Humphreys’ inability to raise the ransom money. Or than I, who till then had not recognized in myself the family precocity in diplomatical intrigue.

Barlow took thereafter to consulting me seriously on tactical matters, tho I reminded him that calling me my father’s son was sorely qualified praise; also, that any service I might render was to him, whom I owed so much, and not to his country, for which I had at best mixt feelings. Nonetheless I was able to be of use to him, not long after, as follows:

Our dearly bought 90 days were two-thirds spent. Colonel Humphreys’ efforts to sell three-quarters of a million dollars’ worth of discounted U. States Bank stock had got him no gold at all, only letters of credit on Madrid & Cadiz from the London banking firm of Baring & Co. They must have known (at least Barlow did) that the Spanish government was unlikely to permit the export of so much gold — particularly to those Barbary pirates who from time out of mind had made slaves of Christian Spaniards, not least among them the author of Don Quixote. Barlow had therefore shrewdly suggested that Humphreys transfer Baring & Co.‘s letter of credit from Spain to the branch office of Joseph Bacri in Livorno, Italy, where it could promptly be negotiated & the credit transfer’d in turn to Bacri of Algiers. The Dey would have his money (at least credit with someone he trusted); the treaty would be concluded; the prisoners could return to America & we to Paris — and the firm of Bacri would have earn’d two separate commissions on the transaction! Bacri himself had readily agreed, and we’d dispatcht a consular aide to Livorno (the English “Leghorn,” where, as it happens, old Smollett is buried) to manage the matter. But the transfer of credit had yet to be effected by Humphreys with Baring & Co.; our letters to Lisbon & London & Cadiz & Livorno & Paris & Philadelphia had as well been posted into the sea for all the answer we got. And to make matters worse, with the coming of summer Algiers was smitten by an outbreak of plague.

Of this last, dear child, I shall not speak, except to say that I had rather take my chances with a dozen red Robespierres than brave again the Terror of the Pest, the black flag of Bubonia. We were doubly desperate: by the day our three months’ grace expired (8 July, just after my 20th birthday), hundreds of Algerines & five American prisoners had expired also, and unspeakably. Daily we expected the pestilence to attack our little household. Barlow made his will. I wisht myself in Switzerland. Yet no word came from across the Mediterranean.

What came instead seem’d at first another setback, but proved a blessing in disguise. A new French consul arrived in Algiers to replace the old, bringing with him a gift to the Dey of such opulence that “ours” (which Monroe & Barlow had thot daringly extravagant) was put in the shade. To point up this disparity — and to remind us further of our tardiness with the ransom — Hassan Bashaw open’d his hairy arms to France, & would have nothing to do with us.

Prest by the Dey to ask some favor in return for his gift, the new French consul requested a loan of $200,000 in gold from the royal treasury, to defray the expenses of the French consulate! We thot the request an effrontery — the man was borrowing back more than he’d given, at a time when gold was so scarce in Algiers that even the house of Bacri had none to lend — but the Dey (a pirate after all, not a banker) granted the extraordinary loan at once. Now, it happened that Bacri’s own assets, like Barlow’s, were largely invested in French government bonds; after sharing with us his surprise that the Dey had made so improbable a loan, & his interest in anyone who had such access to the Algerine treasury, Bacri hit upon the happy idea of claiming that same $200,000 from the French consulate, in partial payment of what the Directoire owed him on those bonds, reciprocating with credit in that amount for the consulate to borrow against in its routine operations! The Consul agreed, it being more convenient for him to work thro Bacri’s banks than to be, in effect, in the banking business himself; Bacri was delighted that the French government now owed money to the Dey instead of to him; and Barlow — who by this time was heartily sorry he’d volunteer’d for the Algerine service instead of improving his own fortune in Paris — wisht aloud & sincerely he’d been born a Jew instead of a Connecticut Yankee.

“Better Yankee than yekl,” Bacri replied, by way of cordial acknowledgement that some New England traders are sharp indeed, and some Jews dull.

Now, I much admired Joseph Bacri myself, as a shrewd but reliable fellow who took every fair advantage, but fulfill’d his obligations faithfully, & who in addition was a man of culture & political detachment (all governments, he was fond of declaring, are more or less knavish, but just that fact made the more or less of considerable importance). For some reason — perhaps because his smile included me amongst the “Yankees”—I was suddenly inspired to out-Bacri Bacri in our ongoing project to Burlingame the Bashaw. Here was our chance — I declared to Barlow when our friend had left, still exulting in his coup de maître —to discharge Bacri’s debt to us for removing Cathcart. Bacri — who understood credit as the Dey did not — was as confident as we that, despite all the delays, Baring & Company’s letter of credit to Humphreys in Lisbon against their banks in Madrid & Cadiz would eventually be transfer’d to Bacri’s office in Leghorn & thence to Algiers. In that sense, our personal “credit” with Bacri was good, especially in the light of our past favors to him. Against this credit, then, why ought we not to borrow at once from Bacri the entire same $200,000 that the French Consul had borrow’d from the Dey, & buy with it the immediate release of the prisoners?