The Barbary Pirates

of Tripoli, pioneer a whole new way of warfare, and misplace the lad on our own navy’s schooner? “Where sense is wanting, everything is wanting,” Old Ben used to warn, always looking at me with particular intensity.

And finally I remembered something and took my love by the arm. “In case I forget, remind me to have Sterett marry us,” I told her. “He’s captain of the vessel, after all. That is, if you’ll have me.” My heart was hammering. Franklin said to have your eyes wide open before marriage, and half shut after.

“Of course I’ll marry you! I can’t get rid of you! But what about Horus?” She had a mother’s panic.

“I know where he is. Right where I told him to be. Come with me below.”

And indeed I found him below in the sail locker, curled fast asleep. His look was that of the angels, but he sleepily blinked as we watched him, and then looked at me.

“Hungry, Papa.”

He’d crept off to nap in the one place where I told him he’d be safe.

HISTORICAL NOTE

America’s conflict with the Barbary States simmered and boiled from 1784, when the new nation had won independence and lost the protection of the British navy, until 1815, when the United States sent naval forces against Algiers. The British navy launched another punitive attack in 1816, and the French conquered Algiers in 1830, starting the colonization of North Africa that finally ended Barbary piracy once and for all.

The American war with Tripoli in present-day Libya, immortalized in the Marine Corps Hymn line “To the shores of Tripoli,” ran from 1801 to 1805, and was punctuated by victories and defeats on both sides. It ended after capture of the Tripolitan city of Derna by rebel forces aided by American Marines. Bashaw Yussef Karamanli agreed to release American prisoners and cease attacks on American shipping in return for a ransom of $60,000, an ambiguous “victory” that nonetheless marked the coming-of-age of the American navy.

And what of the daring and revolutionary 1802 submarine raid on Tripoli by the American adventurer Ethan Gage and three famous scientists—an episode missing from more conventional histories?

We do know that Georges Cuvier was one of the most prominent zoologists and paleontologists of his day. William Smith was the father of English geology, but unrecognized for his achievements until very late in life. Robert Fulton was a tireless inventor who marketed schemes to both the French and British navies, and who eventually returned home to develop the first commercial steamboat, the Clermont, on the Hudson River in 1807. His invention of the submarine Nautilus was a century ahead of its time.

Fulton came to France hoping that the revolutionary government might be open to new inventions, given the inferiority of its navy to Britain’s. American David Bushnell had developed an even more-primitive submarine, the Turtle, which unsuccessfully attempted to sink British ships during the Revolutionary War. Fulton expanded on Bushnell’s idea after plans for the Turtle were published in 1795, and proposed a submarine, or “plunging boat,” to the French on December 13, 1797. The eventual design is described in this novel.

The idea languished until Napoleon seized power in France in November of 1799. With preliminary backing, by the spring of 1800 Fulton had built a working submarine, approximately twenty feet long and six wide. It was launched July 24, and on July 29 commenced sea trials in the Seine. Further experiments followed in Le Havre in August, where Fulton managed to blow up a barrel in a test. He actually tried twice to approach two anchored English brigs, but the British had heard of the experiments and, whether by accident or from alarm, raised anchor and sailed before Fulton could get close. Experiments resumed in the summer of 1801 off Brest. There the Nautilus dove as deep as 25 feet, stayed submerged as long as three hours, and traveled underwater about a half mile. The vessel also sailed adequately on the surface.

Unfortunately for Fulton, a new Minister of Marine was opposed to this secretive method of war and French support ended. While history records that Fulton told the French he broke up the Nautilus to prevent its being copied, Ethan Gage suggests the vessel’s remains may actually be at the bottom of Tripoli’s harbor.

Fulton subsequently demonstrated a steamboat to Napoleon in the Seine on August 9, 1803, and then, frustrated at the lack of French backing, went to Britain to propose submarine and torpedo schemes to defeat a French invasion fleet.

Equally revolutionary was the mirror, or death ray, of the great Greek mathematician Archimedes. Syracuse, a Greek colony on the island of Sicily, founded in 743 B.C., became one of the major cities of the ancient world, and was eventually caught up in the titanic struggle between Rome and Carthage. It was besieged and captured by the Romans in 212 B.C. Despite the orders of the Roman general Marcellus, Archimedes was slain by a Roman soldier who did not recognize the famed mathematician.

Legend has it that Archimedes invented ingenious machines to defend his city, including an improved catapult, giant mechanical claws that could crush Roman galleys, and a mirror that could set them on fire.

The first surviving biography of Archimedes is that of Polybius, written seventy years after the inventor’s death. It does not mention the mirror. However, in the second century A.D., the historian Lucian wrote that the Greeks repelled a Roman attack with a burning glass, or mirror. This story was elaborated on by later writers, and has ignited the public’s imagination ever since.

Modern attempts to replicate the weapon include a 1973 Greek experiment in Athens that set a plywood mock-up on fire, using an array of 70 mirrors. A 2005 try by Massachusetts Institute of Technology students set a stationary target on fire, but an attempt to replicate that deed for the television show Mythbusters was unsuccessful. Whether a genius like Archimedes might have done better—and whether a renegade American helped rediscover just such a device in 1802—we leave to the reader’s discretion.

Certainly there has been a steady accumulation of evidence in recent decades that the ancient world was more technologically sophisticated than once supposed. Cicero recorded that Archimedes made an early geared “computer” to imitate the motion of heavenly bodies, and just such an ancient device was discovered by Greek sponge divers in 1900. Dubbed the Antikythera computer and on display in Athens, it calculated the movements of sun, moon, and stars.

Fulton’s idea of a flamethrower is predated to at least A.D. 674, when Byzantium used a new invention called “Greek fire” to destroy an Islamic fleet.

The French legend of a Little Red Man is true, and recorded in some Bonaparte biographies. Also reported is Napoleon’s habit of shooting at Josephine’s swans.

The Palais Royal was the Las Vegas of its day, and the ruins, caves, and cathedrals of Syracuse are mostly as described.

Ioannis Kapodistrias, the Greek patriot whom Ethan meets on Thira, became the father of Greek independence from Turkey. Other characters taken from history include French secret policeman Joseph Fouche, American naval lieutenant Andrew Sterett, and Yussef Karamanli.

The gigantic lizard aboard Aurora’s ship is the famed Komodo dragon of Indonesia. While not documented by Western science until 1910, the animals were most likely known to natives of the archipelago. History records that Yussef did keep lions and other cats in his Tripoli palace.

The Egyptian Rite was a real heretic offshoot of Freemasonry, founded by the con man and conjurer Cagliostro about 1777. Its reach, ambition, and longevity have been fictionalized in my novels.

The island archipelago of Thira is better known as Santorini today, the rim of a shattered volcano. In approximately 1640 B.C., the island blew itself apart in an eruption so violent that the tsunami waves that hit Crete may have toppled Minoan civilization. Some scientists believe that Plato’s story of Atlantis was inspired by that real-life incident. Minoan ruins were uncovered near Akrotiri, and some of the murals described in this novel can be seen at a museum on the island.

Was there ever really an Og, mysterious ancestors, and fantastic ancient weapons? History is just that, a story, and sorting fact from legend will occupy historians and archaeologists for centuries to come. What we do know is that legends once dismissed as complete myth, such as Atlantis, seem to have some basis in geologic