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Chapter Twenty Seven.
 Describes the Bombardment of Algiers.  
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............
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