ized the President to build six frigates. Three of them were actually completed before that valiant body retracted—three that were destined to put the fear of God into more different kinds of scalawags than all the resolutions of Congress put together from that day to this—the Constitution, the United States and the Constellation.
They were not done in time, however, to keep us from paying the cordial old Dey $642,500 cash, commissions, presents, etc., for the release of American citizens, and for signing what he called a treaty. By this document he agreed to let American ships sail in peace—and we agreed to give him a matter of $21,000 worth of naval stores and other friendly little gratuities every year.
The amazing attitude of "forbearance" and supine pacifism taken by our government was not ended even then. The following incident, related by Lyman, seems almost incredible—incredible that the government would tolerate it.
"In October, 1800, the Dey signified to the
