When the British fleet bore down on Algiers on the morning of the 27th of August 1816, there was barely sufficient wind to carry it within sight of the town. While lying becalmed in the Queen Charlotte, Lord Exmouth sent in a boat and a flag of truce with the terms dictated by England, and a demand for the immediate release of the consul and the officers and men belonging to the Prometheus.
About the same time a small boat was observed by those on board the fleet to put off from the shore to the northward, which, pulling right across the town, made straight for the flag-ship. It was manned by a solitary rower, who, as he drew near, was recognised by his costume to be an Arab.
A four-oared boat shot out from the mole-head as if to intercept this solitary rower, and a short but inspiriting chase ensued. It was seen that at first the Arab paid no attention whatever to the boat in pursuit, but kept up the slow regular stroke of one who felt quite unconcerned and at his ease. The boat in chase overhauled it fast, and when within shout a gunshot the Turk in the stern stood up and hailed the Arab in stern, angry tones, but no reply was vouchsafed. Exasperated beyond measure, the Turk levelled a pistol at the Arab and fired, but missed his aim, and was driven almost frantic with rage on observing that the insolent Arab dropped his oar for an instant, and kissed his hand to the ball as it skipped past.
Immediately after the Turk was heard to shout an order to his men, who thereupon redoubled their efforts to overtake the chase. At the same instant the Arab was observed to bend well forward, and almost double the length of his stroke, so that the little craft, which had hitherto skimmed over the calm sea, now began to leap, as it were, in successive bounds.
“I say, Bill, don’t he pull well?” exclaimed one of the tars on board the Queen Charlotte.
“Splendiferous!” replied Bill, in great admiration; “an’ I do believe that he’s creepin’ away from the Turk.”
This was true; the Arab was steadily increasing the distance between himself and his pursuers, until at last the latter gave up the chase, a consummation which was greeted by some of the excitable spirits in the Queen Charlotte with an irresistible though subdued cheer.
In a short time the Arab rowed alongside the flag-ship.
“Och! Ally ma boo hookum foldimaronky bang,” said the Arab, looking up.
“Well, now,” exclaimed a surprised Irish tar on board to those near him, “it’s often. I’ve heard that the Arabs had the brogue of Owld Ireland, though the lingo don’t square exactly.”
“Ah then, brother, that’s ’cause ye don’t onderstand it. Sure ye might heave us a rope,” replied the Arab with a grin.
A roar of laughter greeted this speech, and in another minute Ted Flaggan stood bowing modestly on the quarter-deck of the flag-ship.
While the Admiral was closeted with this unexpected visitor—whose name and deeds, owing to some strange oversight, have been omitted from history,—a light breeze sprang up, which enabled the fleet to stand into the bay and lay-to about a mile from the town.
Meanwhile, Ted Flaggan, having given the Admiral all the information he possessed as to the condition of the city and its defences, was sent forward to take part in the expected fight, or go below out of harm’s way, as suited him best. He immediately attached himself, as a supernumerary, to one of the upper-deck guns, and, while giving his amused comrades graphic accounts of life in the pirate city, obtained from them in return a full account of the fleet, and the intentions of the Admiral, as far as these were known. He found his comrades very intelligent, and full of enthusiasm about their leader, whom one of the tars styled “one of the wery best Admirals that England ever owned arter Lord Nelson!”
Their admiration was well deserved.
We have already said that the Admiral had commissioned his fleet and got it into excellent working condition in what was deemed a miraculously short space of time. This, however, was accomplished by no miraculous means, but by the simple force of indomitable energy, rightly and perseveringly applied.
Knowing that the time was short, and that a fleet newly manned could not work well without a great deal of training, he made up for the shortness of time by not allowing a single moment of it to be lost, frittered away, or misapplied. Besides giving the men the usual and proper training while in port preparing to sail, he made several arrangements whereby he continued the training most effectively on the voyage out. Of course it was carried on daily. On Tuesdays and Fridays the ships were cleared for action, and six broadsides were fired, but this was only what may be styled parade practice. Feeling that actual work could only be done well by men of actual experience, he had a twelve-pounder gun placed on the after part of the Queen Charlotte’s quarter-deck, and hung a small target, with a very small bull’s-eye, at the end of the fore-topmast studding-sail boom, at which all the captains of guns practised every day, so that they acquired not only the habit of laying and working their guns according to rule, but also the art of laying them to good purpose, and many of them became crack shots before they came within sight of the enemy.
The crews were thus kept active and elated; in good health, and filled with respect for the wisdom and knowledge of those in command, as well as with confidence in their own capacity to obey orders with promptitude, unity of action, and vigorous effect.
Half the battles of life, moral as well as physical, are gained by such confidence, founded on experience,—the other half are lost for want of it!
The fleet comprised five line-of-battle ships, two of which were three-deckers; three heavy and two smaller frigates, besides small craft. At Gibraltar they fell in with a Dutch squadron, consisting of five small frigates and a corvette, under Vice-Admiral the Baron Van de Capellen, who asked and obtained leave to co-operate.
There were the Queen Charlotte—110 guns—the flag-ship of Admiral Lord Exmouth, G.C.B., under Captain James Brisbane, C.B.; Impregnable, 98—under Rear-Admiral Milne, who was second in command, and Captain Edward Brace, C.B.; Superb, 74—Captain Charles Elkins; Minden, 74—Captain William Paterson; Albion, 74—Captain John Coode. Of frigates, there were the Leander, 50 guns; Severn, 40; Glasgow, 40; Granicus, 36; and Hebrus, 36. These, with five gun-brigs and four bomb-vessels, named respectively, and not inappropriately, Beelzebub, Fury, Hecla, and Infernal, constituted the British fleet.
The Dutch Admiral hoisted his flag in the Melampus frigate of 44 guns. The Frederica, of same size, was commanded by Captain Van der Straten. The other four vessels were smaller. There were, besides, a flotilla of fifty-five small craft, including mortar and gun-boats, rocket flats, yawls, etcetera.
Opposed to this, which the reader will bear in remembrance was deemed a small fleet, there were on the walls and batteries of Algiers about 500 guns of all sizes and sorts, behind which were inexhaustible supplies of ammunition, and many thousands of as thorough-going rascals as ever defied the strength and tried the patience of the civilised world!
Being thoroughly acquainted with the position and strength of the batteries of the city, Lord Exmouth had arranged the plan of attack, and assigned to each ship and boat its particular station some days before arriving. The addition of the Dutch fleet modified but did not materially alter that plan. Each individual, therefore, from Lord Exmouth to the smallest powder-monkey, was as well primed for action as were the guns of the fleet when the flag of truce returned.
It had been met outside the mole about eleven AM by the captain of the port, and an answer was promised in two hours.
But these pirates had never been celebrated for keeping their word. One o’clock passed, but no answer was forthcoming. Patient and long-suffering as usual—and as he always is—the British Lion delayed a full hour.
“Ah, boys, if we wait till we git a peaceful answer from them villains, we’ll wait till doomsday, so we will,” said Ted Flaggan to the men of the gun to which he had attached himself.
Ted had thrown off his burnous and washed himself by this time, and now, clad in a borrowed pair of ducks and striped shirt, he stood by the gun commenting pleasantly on his experiences of Algerine life, and pointing out the various buildings and objects of interest in the city to his mates.
“That big white house there,” said he, “right fornint ye, with the round top an’ the staple all to wan side—that’s wan o’ the chief mosques. It’s somewhere about two hunderd year ould, more or less, an’ was built by a slave—a poor feller of a Genoese—an’, would you belave it, they kilt him for the shape he gave it! Ah, they’re a bad lot intirely! Like a dacent Christian, he made it in the shape o’ a cross, an’ whin the Dey found that out he chopped the poor man’s head off—so he did, worse luck! but it’s that they’re always doin’, or stranglin’ ye wid a bow-string, or makin’ calf’s-futt jelly o’ yer soles.—What! ‘Ye don’t belave it?’ Faix, if ye go ashore ye’ll larn to belave it. I’ve seed poor owld women git the bastinado—that’s what they calls it—for nothin’ at all a’most. Ah, they’re awful hard on the women. They kape ’em locked up, they does, as if they was thieves or murderers, and niver lets ’em out—at least the ladies among ’em—for fear o’ their bein’ runned away wid. It’s true what I’m sayin’. An’ if wan shud be runned away wid, an’ cotched, they ties her in a sack and drowns her.—Good-lookin’, is it? Faix, that’s more than I can tell ’ee, for all the time I’ve been in the place I’ve never wance seed a Moorish woman’s face, barrin’ the brow an’ eyes and top o’ the nose, for they cover ’em up wid white veils, so as to make ’em look like ghosts or walkin’ corpses. But the Jewesses show their purty faces, an’ so do the naigresses.—‘are the naigresses purty?’ Troth, they may be to their own kith an’ kin, but of all the ugly— Well, well, as you say, it’s not fair to be hard on ’em, poor critters; for arter all they didn’t make theirselves, no more than the monkeys did.”
Ted Flaggan was interrupted here by the sudden exclamation of “There she is!” and the next moment the boat with the flag of truce was seen returning with the signal flying— “No answer.”
Instantly Lord Exmouth signalled to the fleet, “Are you ready?” to which an affirmative reply was at once returned, and then each ship and boat bore down on its appointed station.
We have already said that the harbour of Algiers was formed by the running out of an artificial pier from the mainland to the small island of Pe?on, which lies close to the town. On this island stood, (and still stands), a light-house, at the base of which was a powerful three-tier battery of fifty guns. The island itself was defended all round by ramparts and batteries of heavy guns. This was the strong point of the fortifications, and within the small harbour thus formed was collected the whole Algerine fleet, consisting of four frigates, five large corvettes, and thirty-seven gun-boats.
But besides these harbour defences, the sea-wall of the town extended nearly a mile to the southward and a considerable distance to the northward of the harbour, being everywhere strengthened by powerful batteries. The arrangement of the British Admiral was that each battery should be engaged by a special ship or ships of heavy metal, and that the smaller vessels should take up position where they could find room, or cruise about and do as much damage to the enemy as possible. While the liners and frigates were to batter down the walls, the small craft—bomb and rocket boats, etcetera—were to pour shells and rockets into the arsenal. It was terrible work that had to be done, but the curse which it was intended to do away with was more terrible by far, because of being an old standing evil, and immeasurably more prolific of death and misery than is even a hard-fought battle.
The signal to go into action being given, Lord Exmouth led the van in the Queen Charlotte, and the whole fleet bore up in succession, the Dutch Admiral closing in with the rearmost ship of the English line.
Truly it was a grand as well as a solemn sight to see these majestic ships of war sail quietly down on the devoted city in the midst of dead silence, for as yet not a shot had been fired on either side. And the eyes of many, already wide with eagerness, must have opened wider still with surprise, for Lord Exmouth pursued a course of action that was bold even for a British Admiral. He ran the Queen Charlotte before the wind, close up to the walls, and with the sails still standing let go three anchors from the stern, so as to keep her exactly in the required position, just before the opening of the mole, and with her vast broadside within pistol-range of the walls, flanking all the batteries from the mole-head to the light-house.
Still no shot was fired. The boldness of the act seemed to have confounded and paralysed the enemy, insomuch that a second ship of the line had almost taken her position close to the stern of her predecessor before the battle began. The effect on the minds of the combatants on both sides was so great that they seemed to have forgotten for an instant the dread work they were about to perform. The mole was crowded with troops, many of whom, with irresistible feelings of curiosity, leaped on the parapet to see the vessel pass, while Lord Exmouth, with a strange touch of humanity, waved to them earnestly to get out of the way of the coming fire!
Having coolly lashed the ship by a hawser to the main-mast of an Algerine brig which was attached to the shore, and stoppered the cables, the crew of the flag-ship cheered.
Immediately a gun was fired by the Algerines. At the first flash Lord Exmouth gave the order to “stand by.”
At the second gun of the enemy he gave the word “Fire!”
The third was drowned in the thunder of the Queen Charlotte’s broadside.
The effect of such heavy metal at so short a range was terrific. The walls absolutely crumbled before it, and it is said that five hundred men fell at the first discharge. All the batteries of the city at once opened fire; the ships did likewise, as they successively got into position, and for some hours after that the roar of artillery was incessant, for, despite the irresistible fire of the fleet, the pirates stood to their guns like men. Thus, although the leading vessels succeeded in anchoring quietly, all the rest of the ships went into action under a very heavy fire, particularly that of the Dutch Admiral, who displayed great wisdom and gallantry in the part which he played. The line-of-battle ships formed in a sort of crescent round the outside of the island. The Superb anchored two hundred and fifty yards astern of the flag-ship; the Minden anchored about her own length from the Superb, and passing her stream-cable out of the larboard gun-room port to the Albion, brought the two ships together. Next came the Impregnable. These sufficiently engaged the batteries on the island or mole. The heavy frigates passed ahead and anchored,—the Leander on the port bow of the Queen Charlotte, the Severn ahead of her, with her starboard broadside bearing on the Fishmarket battery. The Melampus and Diana, Dutch vessels, passed beyond and engaged the southern batteries of the town. The smaller vessels cruised about, directing their fire where it seemed to be most needed, and the flotilla of mortar and rocket boats were distributed at the openings between the line-of-battle ships and the mole.
This admirable disposition of the force seemed to inspire the men with additional confidence, if such were possible, but ere long the dense smoke rendered everything invisible beyond a few yards’ distance from the actors in the tremendous fight.
In a few minutes after opening fire, the Queen Charlotte had reduced the fortifications on the mole-head to ruins. She then brought her broadside to bear on the batteries over the gate leading to the mole and on the upper works of the light-house. Her shot told on it with fatal accuracy, crumbling the tower and bringing down gun after gun, thus proving that the ball-practice on the voyage out had not been undertaken in vain. Indeed, so expert did some of the gunners find themselves that they actually amused themselves at one part of the day in attempting to hit the Algerine flag-staff!
It chanced that, owing to some alteration in the arrangements, our friend Rais Ali was transferred from the battery on the walls, where he had originally been stationed, to that on the light-house, and when he beheld gun after gun tumbling helplessly over the crumbling parapets, his spirit fired, and he amazed his comrades by displaying a disregard of personal danger for which he had never before got credit. Whether it was that Ted Flaggan had underrated him, or that there is truth in the proverb about extremes meeting, we cannot tell, but certain it is, that when Rais Ali saw every gun of the battery dismounted but one, he rushed at that one like an enraged lion, seized the rammer from the man who wielded it, and began to load.
He might have spared himself the trouble, for before he got the charge rammed home, a shot from the terrible Queen Charlotte struck the parapet just underneath, burst it up, and toppled the gun over. Rais leaped on the ramparts, waved his scimitar with a yell of defiance, and, tumbling after the gun, was lost amid a cloud of lime-dust and débris.
Strange to say, he rose from out the ruin almost unhurt, and quite undismayed.
Hasting along the quay without any definite end in view, he found the captain of the port getting the flotilla of gun-boats ready for action. There were thirty-seven of them, and up to that time they had lain as snugly in the harbour as was compatible with a constant shower of shells and rockets tumbling into them. With great daring the pirates had resolved to make a dash with these, under cover of the smoke, and attempt to board the British flag-ship.
“Where go you?” demanded the infuriated Rais.
The captain of the port hurriedly explained.
“I go with you,” cried Rais, jumping into one of the boats; “it is fate—no man can resist the decree of fate.”
All the boats pushed swiftly off together, and did it so silently that they were close under the bow of the flag-ship before being observed. The Leander also saw them, and a few guns from her, as well as from the flag-ship, were instantly turned on them.
“Musha! look there!” cried Ted Flaggan, who chanced to be on the part of the ship nearest them.
A tremendous crash followed, and thirty-three out of the thirty-seven boats were in one moment sent to the bottom!
Of the four that escaped and put about to retreat, one came within the range of the gun at which Flaggan served. It was trained to bear.
“Fire!” said the captain.
“Howld on!” cried Ted, suddenly clapping his hand on the touch-hole, and receiving the red-hot poker on the back of it.
“What’s that for, mate?” demanded the man who held the poker, as he quickly raised it.
“All right, me hearty; fire away,” said Ted, as he quietly removed his hand.
Next moment the gun leaped back as if affrighted at its own vomit of shot, smoke, and fire, and a column of white foam rose from the sea, astern of the boat.
The momentary check had delivered it from destruction, and Ted Flaggan had the satisfaction of knowing that he had saved his friend Rais Ali, as he tenderly patted his injured hand.
More than an hour of this heavy firing failing to produce submission, Lord Exmouth resolved to destroy the Algerine fleet. The Leander was ordered to cease firing, and the flag-ship barge, under Lieutenant Richards, was ordered to board the nearest frigate of the enemy, with laboratory torches and carcass shells. This duty was gallantly performed, and so effectually, that the men of the barge had barely time to tumble over the side when the frigate was a mass of flames. The barge was received with three hearty cheers on its return. Next, the launch of the Queen Charlotte opened on the largest frigate in the port with carcass shells, and despite the frantic efforts of the Algerines to save her, she was soon completely on fire. From this frigate the fire spread to all the other boats and vessels in the harbour, and from these to the storehouses and arsenal, until the whole place was wrapped in smoke and flames.
Meanwhile the other ships had done terrible execution on the walls and houses immediately opposite to them, while the bomb-vessels threw their deadly missiles right over their own ships and into the town and arsenal, with tremendous effect.
Thus the work of destruction went on all the afternoon, while men, of course, fell fast on both sides—for the deadly game of war cannot be carried on except at fearful cost. Even in the secondary matter of matériel the cost is not small. As night approached the guns of the enemy were completely silenced, and the ships began to husband their ammunition, for they had by that time fired an immense quantity of gunpowder, and 50,000 shot, weighing more than 500 tons of iron; besides 960 shells of large size, as well as a considerable quantity of shot, shell, and rockets from the flotilla! The result was that the entire fleet of the pirates was destroyed, and the sea-defences of Algiers, with a great part of the town itself, were shattered and crumbled in ruins.
Then the fleet hauled off with considerable difficulty, owing to the absence of wind; but the pirates had not given in, for they kept spitting at their foes from the upper batteries of the town until half-past eleven at night, when the ships got out of range and firing ceased.
Strange to say, the powers of nature, which had hitherto slumbered quietly, now came into play. The breeze freshened and a tremendous storm of thunder, lightning, and rain came on, as if to mock the fury of man, and humble him under a sense of his relative littleness.
But man is not easily humbled. Next morning the pirates still showed a disinclination to give in, and the British fleet resumed the offensive in order to compel them to do so.
The gun-boats were again placed in position, and Lieutenant Burgess was sent ashore with a flag of truce to demand unconditional surrender.
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