But leaving the imperfect records of colonial days, I descend at once to that period, almost in the light of these times, when our National Government, justly careful of the liberty of its white citizens, was aroused to put forth all its power in their behalf. The war of the Revolution closed in 1783, by the acknowledgment of the independence of the United States. The new national flag, then freshly unfurled, and hardly known to the world, seemed to have little power to protect persons or property from the outrages of the Barbary States. Within three years, no less than ten American vessels became their prey. At one time an apprehension prevailed, that Dr. Franklin had been captured. "We are waiting," said one of his French correspondents, "with the greatest patience to hear from you. The newspapers have given us anxiety on your account; for some of them insist that you have been taken by the Algerines, while others pretend that you are at Morocco, enduring your slavery with all the patience of a philosopher."[84] The property of our merchants was sacrificed or endangered. Insurance at Lloyd's, in London, could be had only at advanced prices; while it was difficult to obtain freight for American bottoms.[85] The Mediterranean trade seemed closed to our enterprise. To a people filled with the spirit of commerce, and bursting with new life, this in itself was disheartening; but the sufferings of our unhappy fellow-citizens, captives in a distant land, aroused a feeling of a higher strain. [Footnote 84: Sparks's Works of Franklin, ix. 506, 507; x. 230. M. Le Veillard to Dr. Franklin, October 9, 1785.] [Footnote 85: Boston Independent Chronicle, April 28, 1785, vol. xvii. No. 866; May 12, 1785, No. 868; Oct. 20, 1785, No. 886; Nov. 3, 1785, No. 888; Nov. 17, 1785, No. 890; March 2, 1786, vol. xviii. No. 908; April 27, 1786, No. 918.] As from time to time the tidings of these things reached America, a voice of horror and indignation swelled through the land. The slave corsairs of African Barbary were branded sometimes as "infernal crews," sometimes as "human harpies."[86] This sentiment acquired new force, when, at two different periods, by the fortunate escape of captives, what seemed an authentic picture of their condition was presented to the world. The story of these fugitives will show at once the hardships of their lot, and the foundation of the appeal which was soon made to the country with so much effect. [Footnote 86: Boston Independent Chronicle, May 18, 1786, xviii. No. 916; Sparks's Franklin, ix. 506, 507.]