The Power and the Glory Read Free Page A

fast ship. No one understood Falcon’ s sailing qualities better than Richard Cutler. But could Agreen truly have sailed from Algiers to Boston in just five weeks?
    Answers to those questions were obvious in the eager expression on Jamie’s face and the way he kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other, edging toward the door. Richard stood up. “Will you settle this, Mr. Hunt?” he asked, meaning the bill.

    â€œThat will not be necessary, Mr. Cutler,” a voice cut in. “Today your meal is on the house.” In a loud voice of authority the headwaiter proclaimed to the tavern at large, “On this glorious day, all food and drink are on the house, compliments of Mr. Charles Wheeler, proprietor of McMurray’s Tavern!”
    That announcement was met with a round of applause reinforced by whistling and shouting and stamping of feet. Some patrons bolted for the door.
    â€œYou go on, Mr. Cutler,” George Hunt said amid the din. “I’ll be right along. At my age I’m not as fleet of foot as you and your son.” He smiled warmly at Jamie.
    Richard bowed in appreciation to both Hunt and the waiter and followed his son out the door. The dazzling hues of early autumn struck his eyes, and a refreshing breeze ruffled his hair. Bells began to toll, first from one church, then from another, then from another and another and another until it seemed to those gathering on and near Long Wharf that the joyous peals must go far beyond the confines of Boston and Cambridge, all the way to the western frontiers of the young republic.
    A large crowd was gathering on the waterfront. Wives, parents, siblings, and sweethearts had waited ten years for this day, and they would not be denied. When word had arrived almost a year ago that a treaty had been signed in Algiers, hope soared that every American sailor held captive in Barbary would soon be home. As always, however, the devil was in the details. Another ten months would pass before the disorganized U.S. government could raise the agreed-upon ransom and hammer out those details to the satisfaction of the Arab rulers of North Africa and the advisers and magistrates and self-seeking connivers lurking in their courts. It was not until early June, three months after the Treaty of Tripoli had been ratified by Congress and signed by President Adams, that American vessels were allowed safe passage along the Barbary Coast. Even then, bureaucratic inexperience and ineptitude caused one delay after another, adding to the national sense of anger and despair.
    Finally, in mid-July, a special communiqué was relayed to the European ministers and American negotiators in North Africa. After holding Americans captive for more than a decade and forcing them to labor on barely sustainable rations, the dey of Algiers, along with the bey of Tunis and the bashaw of Tripoli, grandly announced that on August 10, 1797, all prisoners held in the Barbary States would be released. On August 7 Agreen Crabtree, the most trusted ship’s master in the Cutler merchant fleet, set sail on board Falcon to Algiers from Gibraltar,
where he had been biding his time for three weeks in the cordial company of Richard’s brother-in-law, Jeremy Hardcastle, a senior post captain attached to the Royal Navy’s Mediterranean Squadron.
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    RICHARD AND JAMIE wove their way along Long Wharf through the throngs of citizens straining to reach the spot where dockhands were clearing a space for the schooner to tie up. Some in the crowd recognized the elder Cutler and made room for him and his son to pass through. More than one reached out to touch him in gratitude, for the men returning home on board this particular schooner were in the employ of Cutler & Sons. Muslim pirates had seized the company’s brig Eagle in the Mediterranean in August 1787. Since then, Cutler & Sons had done what it could to secure the release of its sailors, sending Richard Cutler and Agreen