The Pirate City: An Algerine Tale, R. M. Ballantyne [great novels of all time .TXT] 📗
- Author: R. M. Ballantyne
Book online «The Pirate City: An Algerine Tale, R. M. Ballantyne [great novels of all time .TXT] 📗». Author R. M. Ballantyne
Master Jim had convulsed himself twice, and had actually got rid of a little of the draught, before the surgeon could recover him from the irate negress.
“I hope he hasn’t lost much of it,” remarked the surgeon, looking anxiously at the howling boy as he held him fast. “I brought only one dose of the drug, but we shall see in a few minutes.—Do stop the noise of that screeching imp of blackness,” he added, turning a look of anger on Zubby, whose grief was, like her mirth, obstreperous.
“I wish as some ’un had pared her nails afore I comed here,” growled the nautical man.
“Hush, Zubby,” said Colonel Langley, taking the girl kindly by the arm; “we are doing Jim no harm; you’ll bring the janissaries in to see who is being murdered if you go on so—hush!”
But Zubby would not hush; the Colonel therefore called his black cook and handed her over to him—who, being a fellow-countryman, and knowing what a Zaharian frame could endure, carried her into an adjoining room and quietly choked her.
“He’s going—all right,” said the surgeon, with a look and nod of satisfaction, as the child, lying in the nautical man’s arms, dropt suddenly into a profound slumber.
“Now, we will pack him.—Stay, has he a cloak or shawl of any kind?” said the surgeon, looking round.
“Zubby alone knows where his mysterious wardrobe is to be found,” replied the Colonel.
“Then let the creature find it,” cried the surgeon impatiently; “we have no time to lose.”
Zubby was brought back and told to wrap her treasure in something warm, which she willingly did, under the impression that she was about to be ordered to take him out for a walk, but the tears which still bedimmed her eyes, coupled with agitation, caused her to perform her wonted duty clumsily, and to stick a variety of pins in various unnecessary places. She was then sent to the kitchen with some trivial message to the cook.
While she was away, Master Jim was packed in the bottom of the vegetable basket, and a quantity of cabbages, cauliflowers, etcetera, were placed above him. The basket was given to the nautical man to carry. Then the surgeon and the consul went out arm-in-arm, followed by two midshipmen, who were in attendance in the hall. Robinson—so the nautical man was named—brought up the rear.
They proceeded along the street Bab-el-Oued for some distance, and then, passing the mosque near the slave-market, descended the street that led to the Marina, and the place where the boat of the “Prometheus” lay in waiting.
The consul and surgeon affected to talk and laugh lightly as they approached the gate, and were permitted to pass, the guard supposing, no doubt, that the British consul was exercising his wonted civility in conducting his friends down to their boat. But fate, in the form of Zubby, was unfavourable to them. Either that loving damsel’s finger had been more effective than was at first supposed, or the pins were operating with unwonted pungency, but certain it is, that just as Mr Robinson was passing under the gateway, Master Jim awoke from his profound slumber. Feeling, although not naturally dyspeptic, that the cabbages weighed heavy on his stomach, he set up such a howl, and struck out so violently, that the lid of the basket was forced up, and sundry vegetables rolled before the eyes of the astonished Turks.
Of course Master Jim and his bearer were taken prisoners, but the evil did not stop here, for the officer of the guard at once ordered the arrest of the consul himself, as well as the surgeon, the midshipmen, and the boat’s crew of the “Prometheus,” and the whole were thrust into the dungeons of the common prison—the consul, by special order of the Dey, being loaded with iron fetters.
The dismay of poor Mrs Langley and Agnes when they heard of the fate of the consul and his child may be imagined. It was however mitigated in some degree when, next morning, a boat came off to the “Prometheus” containing Master Jim himself, in charge of the faithful Zubby!
Whether it was that Omar deemed the child a useless encumbrance or a valueless article, or was visited by one of those touches of compunction which are well-known to assail at times the breasts of even the worst of pirates, we cannot tell; but no such clemency was extended to Jim’s father. The Dey positively refused either to give him up or to promise his personal safety, nor would he listen to a word respecting the officers and men whom he had seized.
This was the news with which Captain Dashwood left Algiers, and which, some days later, he delivered to Lord Exmouth, when he met the British fleet on its way to the city, with the view of bringing the pirates to their senses.
The barbarians of Barbary had roused the wrath of England to an extreme pitch in consequence of a deed which did not, indeed, much excel their wonted atrocities, but which, being on a large scale, and very public, had attracted unusual attention—all the more that, about the same time, the European nations, having killed as many of each other as they thought advisable for that time, were comparatively set free to attend to so-called minor affairs.
The deed referred to was to the effect that on the 23rd of May 1816 the crews of the coral fishing-boats at Bona—about 200 miles eastward of Algiers—landed to attend mass on Ascension Day. They were attacked, without a shadow of reason or provocation, by Turkish troops, and massacred in cold blood.
Previous to this Lord Exmouth had been on the Barbary coast making treaties with these corsairs, in which he had been to some extent successful. He had obtained the liberation of all Ionian slaves, these having become, by political arrangement, British subjects; and having been allowed to make peace for any of the Mediterranean states that would authorise him to do so—it being well-known that they could do nothing for themselves,—he arranged terms of peace with the Algerines for Sardinia and Naples, though part of the treaty was that Naples should pay a ransom of 100 pounds head for each slave freed by the pirates, and Sardinia 60 pounds. Thinking it highly probable that he should ere long have to fight the Algerines, Lord Exmouth had sent Captain Warde of the ‘Banterer’ to Algiers to take mental plans of the town and its defences, which that gallant officer did most creditably, thereby greatly contributing to the success of future operations. By a curious mistake of the interpreter at Tunis, instead of the desire being expressed that slavery should be abolished, England was made to demand that this should be done, and the alarmed Tunisians agreed to it. Taking the hint, Lord Exmouth made the same demand at Tripoli, with similar result. At Algiers, however, his demands were refused, and himself insulted. Returning to England in some uncertainty as to how his conduct would be regarded—for in thus “demanding,” instead of “desiring,” the liberation of slaves, he had acted on his own responsibility,—he found the country agitated by the news of the Bona massacre, of which at that time he had not heard.
The demands, therefore, which he had made with some misgiving, were now highly approved, and it was resolved that they should be repeated to the barbarians in the thunder of artillery.
A member of the House of Commons, stirred to indignation by the news from Bona, got up and moved for copies of Lord Exmouth’s treaties with Algiers for Naples and Sardinia, and all correspondence connected therewith. He strongly condemned the principle of treating at all with states which presumed to hold their captives up to ransom, as by so doing virtual acknowledgment was made that these pirates had a right to commit their outrages. He was given to understand, he said, that the Dey, pressed by dissatisfied Algerines for limiting their sphere of plunder, had pacified them by assuring them that a wide field of plunder was still left! Treaties of peace made with them by some states had only the effect of turning their piracies into other channels, as was already beginning to be felt by the Roman states. He then described the wretched condition of the slaves. He cited one instance, namely, that out of three hundred slaves fifty had died from bad treatment on the day of their arrival, and seventy more during the first fortnight. The rest were allowed only one pound of black bread per day, and were at all times subject to the lash of their brutal captors—neither age nor sex being respected. One Neapolitan lady of distinction, he said, had been carried off by these corsairs, with eight children, two of whom had died, and she had been seen but a short time ago by a British officer in the thirteenth year of her captivity. These things were not exaggerations, they were sober truths; and he held that the toleration of such a state of things was a discredit to humanity, and a foul blot upon the fame of civilised nations. It is refreshing to hear men speak the truth, and call things by their right names, in plain language like this!
The House and the country were ripe for action. An animated debate followed. It was unanimously agreed that the barbarians should be compelled to cease their evil practices, and Lord Exmouth’s conduct was not only approved, but himself was appointed to accomplish the duty of taming the Turks.
A better or bolder sea-lion could not have been found to take charge of Old England’s wooden walls on this occasion—ironclads being then unknown. He was a disciple of the great Nelson, and a well-tried sea-warrior of forty years’ standing. He went to work with the energy and promptitude of a true-blue British tar, and, knowing well what to do, resolved to do it in his own way.
Many naval officers considered the fortifications of Algiers impregnable. Having seen and studied them, Lord Exmouth thought otherwise. Lord Nelson, founding probably on erroneous information, and not having seen the place, had said that twenty-five line-of-battle ships would be necessary to subdue it. Our Admiral, with Captain Warde’s correct plan in his pocket, knew that there was not room for even half that number of ships to be laid alongside the town. The Admiralty strongly urged him to take a powerful fleet. Lord Exmouth agreed to that, but decided that it should be a small one. To the surprise of their Lordships he fixed on five liners, with a few smaller craft, as a sufficient number for the work he had to do. He said—
“If they open fire when the ships are coming up and cripple our masts, we shall have some difficulty, perhaps, and the loss will no doubt be greater, but if they allow us to take our stations, I am sure of them, for I know that nothing can resist a line-of-battle ship’s fire.”
It was usually thought by naval men that a ship could not be thoroughly effective until she had been a considerable time in commission. Doubtless the thought was correct, and founded on experience; nevertheless, Lord Exmouth proved himself an exception to ordinary naval rulers. He commissioned, fitted, and manned a fleet, and fought and won a great battle within the incredibly brief
Comments (0)