For half a century at least, the depredations of these barbarians had made the Mediterranean a sea of great peril for the merchant vessels of all nations, and even for the fighting ships of the smaller Mediterranean powers like Naples and Sardinia, whose weakly manned vessels were often no match for the galleys and feluccas of the Barbary corsairs. The ruffianly Deys made little attempt to conceal the piratical nature of their proceedings, and became a perfect scourge not only to the mariners of all nations in the Mediterranean, but also to the unfortunate inhabitants of its shores. They ravaged the islands and coastline of the mainland wherever there was plunder to be gained or an unprotected town to be raided, impudently hoisted the flags of one or other of the great naval powers then at war, and preyed upon the commerce of the rest, plundered and burned their shipping, and, worst of all, consigned the crews of the vessels they captured or destroyed to all the horrors of slavery in a Mohammedan country. Among these Barbary Powers the Deys of Algiers had long been the most powerful and the most truculent. During a lull in the fighting between France and England in the middle years of the eighteenth century, Admiral Keppel, [Footnote: Admiral Keppel, second son of the second Earl of Albemarle, created Viscount Keppel for his gallant services; died unmarried in 1786. He was the eponymous hero of so many public houses.] then a very youthful-looking captain, had been sent with a squadron to curb the insolence of the Dey of that period, which he effected without the firing of a shot. Keppel demanded an interview with the Dey, and went ashore to the palace without a guard, and stated his business in very plain terms. The Dey wondered at the presumption of King George in sending a beardless boy as his ambassador. 'The King my master,' replied Keppel, with a glance at the Dey's hairy countenance, 'does not measure wisdom by the length of the beard, or he would have sent a he-goat to confer with your Highness.' The Dey raged at this bold repartee, and began to speak of bowstrings and the ministers of death. 'Kill me, if you will,' replied Keppel, pointing through the open window to his squadron riding in the roadstead, 'and there are ships enough to burn your city and provide me with a glorious funeral pile.' Keppel's firmness had the result of checking the Algerian piracies for a time, but during the long wars between the Powers which were shortly resumed, these were overlooked in the press of matters of more urgency, and it was only with the return of a permanent and general peace, as already noted, that the Powers had leisure to turn their attention to a state of things in the Mediterranean which had long been intolerable.