The Pirate City: An Algerine Tale by R. M. Ballantyne (best novels ever .txt) 📕

In the course of a few days the rumour reached Algiers that England was in right earnest about sending a fleet to bombard the city, and at the same time Colonel Langley learned, through information privately conveyed to him, that the report of Padre Giovanni was to some extent incorrect. The old man had misunderstood the message given to him, and represented the fleet as being in the offing, whereas it had not at that time left England.

The caution, however, was useful, inasmuch as it put the British consul on his guard.

It was at the end of one of the Mohammedan festivals when the news reached the Dey’s ears. He was engaged at the time in celebrating the festival, surrounded by his courtiers and those of the consuls who chanced to be in favour. The tribute due by Denmark and Spain not having been paid, their respective representatives were not present, and the Dey was debating in his mind the propriety of sending them to work in irons with the slaves.

Among other entertainments there was a wrestling match about to take place in the skiffa of the palace. Before proceeding to the skiffa, Omar had shown his guests his menagerie, which contained some remarkably fine specimens of the black-maned lion, with a variety of panthers, jackals, monkeys, and other animals. This was rather a trying ordeal for the nerves of the timid, because the animals were not in cages, being merely fastened by ropes to rings in the walls—all save one, called the “Spaniard,” who was exhibited as the roarer of the tribe, and had to be stirred up to partial madness occasionally to show his powers of lung; he was therefore prudently kept in a wooden cage.

Entering the skiffa, the Dey took his seat on a throne, and ordered the wrestlers to begin.

In the centre of the court was a pile of sawdust, surmounted by a flag. At a given signal two naked and well-oiled Moors of magnificent proportions rushed into the court and scattered the sawdust on the floor, after which they seized each other round their waists, and began an exciting struggle, which ended after a few minutes in one—of them being thrown. Another champion then came forward, and the scene was repeated several times, until one came off the conqueror, and obtained from the Dey a purse of gold as his reward. The unsuccessful athletes were consoled by having a handful of silver thrown into the arena to be scrambled for. It seemed as if more enjoyment was got by the spectators from the scramble than from the previous combats. After this a quantity of food was thrown to the athletes, for which another scramble ensued.

In the midst of this scene an officer of the palace was observed to whisper in the ear of the Dey, who rose immediately and left the skiffa, bringing the amusements to an abrupt close.

Thus was sounded the first clap of the thunder storm which was about to descend on the city.

The effect of it was great, and, to some of the actors in our tale, most important.

All the executions of slaves which had been ordered to take place were countermanded, except in the cases of one or two who had rendered themselves particularly obnoxious, and a few others who were unfit for labour. This was done because Omar determined to put forth all his available power to render the fortifications of the place as strong as possible. All the slaves were therefore set to work on them, but those who had been under sentence of death were kept from too great a rebound of spirits at the reprieve, by being told that the moment the work was finished their respective punishments should be inflicted. Our poor friend Mariano was thus assailed by the horrible thought, while working at the blocks of concrete, which he mixed from morning till night, that in one such block he should ere long find a living tomb.

We need scarcely add that the thought drove him to desperation; but, poor fellow, he had by that time learned that the violence of despair could achieve nothing in the case of one on whose limbs heavy irons were riveted, and whose frame was beginning to break down under the protracted and repeated tortures to which it had been exposed.

Ah! how many wretched men had learned the same bitter lesson in the same accursed city in days gone by—whose groans and cries, though unrecorded by the pen of man, have certainly been inscribed in the book of God’s remembrance, and shall yet be brought into a brighter light than that of terrestrial day!

Omar Dey was a man of energy and decision. The instant it became known to him that England was at last stirred up to resent the insults which had been heaped upon her and other nations by the Algerines, he set about making preparations for defence on the vastest possible scale.

It was a sight worth seeing—though we cannot afford space to describe it in detail—the hundreds of camels, horses, mules, and donkeys that trooped daily into the city with provisions and matériel of every kind; the thousands of Arabs who by command flocked in from the surrounding country to defend the city, and the hundreds of Christian captives who, collected from the quarries, as well as from the fields, gardens, and stables of their respective owners, were made to swarm like bees upon the already formidable walls.

Some of the slaves were fettered; most of them, having been tamed, were free. Some were strong, others were weak, not a few were dying, but all were made to work and toil day and night, with just sufficient rest to enable them to resume labour each morning. It was a woeful sight! A sight which for centuries had been before the eyes of European statesmen, but European statesmen had preferred that European peoples should go on cutting each other’s throats, and increasing their national debts, rather than use their power and wealth to set their captive brethren free; and it was not until the nineteenth century that England, the great redresser of wrongs, put forth her strong hand to crush the Pirate City.

While these busy preparations were going on, a terrible gale arose, which did a good deal of damage to the harbour and shipping of Algiers, and, among other peculiar side-influences, inscribed the name of the French consul in the Dey’s black book. Indeed, nearly all the consuls had their place in that book now, for Omar had been chafed by the cloud of little worries that surrounded him, not having been long enough on the throne to regard such with statesman-like equanimity.

The gale referred to had the effect of driving several Moorish vessels close under the walls of the town, just in front of the mosque Djama Djedid. During its progress a French privateer, (in other words, a licensed pirate!) which chanced to be in port at the time, unintentionally fouled a Moorish vessel, and sank it.

Next day a divan was held, at which Omar demanded payment of the French consul. Not feeling himself bound to pay for the misdeeds of a privateer, the consul refused, whereupon the privateer was seized, and all her crew sent in chains to work at the fortifications.

It chanced, about the same time, that news came of an English frigate having seized an Algerine vessel, and carried her off to Gibraltar. This sent Colonel Langley still deeper into Omar’s black book, so that he felt himself and family to be in great danger of being also put in chains and sent to the Marina, if not worse. He therefore hastened the secret packing of his valuables, intending to avail himself of the first opportunity that should offer of leaving the city.

Such an opportunity soon occurred, at least so thought the consul, in the arrival of the “Prometheus,” a British war-vessel of 18 guns, but Colonel Langley found, as many have discovered before him, that “there is many a slip ’twixt the cup and the lip,” for the Dey suddenly took a high position, and absolutely refused to allow the British consul to depart.

Captain Dashwood, the commander of the “Prometheus,” on his first interview with the Dey, saw that there was no chance whatever of getting off the consul by fair means, for Omar treated him with studied hauteur and insolence.

“I know perfectly well,” said he, at the conclusion of the conference, “that your fleet, which report tells me has already left England, is destined for Algiers. Is it not so?”

“I have no official information, your highness,” replied Captain Dashwood. “If you have received such news, you know as much as I do, and probably from the same source—the public prints.”

“From whence I have it is a matter of no moment,” returned the Dey, as he abruptly closed the conference.

Immediately after, Captain Dashwood informed the consul of his intention of sending a boat ashore next morning, with the ostensible motive of making final proposals to the Dey, but really for the purpose of carrying out his plans, which he related in detail.

Accordingly, next morning, the captain proceeded to the palace, and kept the Dey in complimentary converse as long as was possible with a man of such brusque and impatient temperament.

While thus engaged, several of the men and midshipmen of the “Prometheus” proceeded to the consul’s house. They did so in separate detachments, and some of them returned once or twice to the boat, as if for some small things that had been forgotten, thus confusing the guards as to the numbers of those who had landed.

When Captain Dashwood again returned to his boat there were two more midshipmen in it than the number that had left his ship—one being the consul’s wife, the other his daughter Agnes! Master Jim, however, had been left behind, owing to the arrangements not having been sufficient to meet his requirements. Poor Mrs Langley had left him with agonised self-reproach, on being assured that he should be fetched off on the morrow. Colonel Langley was of course obliged to remain with him.

When the morrow came another boat was sent ashore with baskets for provisions. One of these baskets was taken to the consul’s house. It was in charge of the surgeon of the ship, as Master Jim required the services of a professional gentleman on the occasion.

All went well at first. The boat was manned by several men and midshipmen, who went innocently to market to purchase provisions. The surgeon, a remarkably cool and self-possessed individual, went to the consul’s house, with a Jack-tar—equally cool and self-possessed—carrying the basket.

“Now then, let’s see how smartly we can do it,” said the surgeon, on entering Colonel Langley’s nursery. “Is your child tractable?”

“Very much the reverse,” replied the Colonel, with a smile.

“Umph! can’t be helped.—Set down the basket, my man, and come and hold him.”

Now the Zaharian Zubby, not having been let into the secret of the mysterious proceedings that followed, became a source of unexpected danger and annoyance to the surgeon and his friends. She watched the former with some interest, while he mixed a small powder in the family medicine-glass, and when he advanced with it to Master Jim, her large eyes dilated so that the amount of white formed an absolutely appalling contrast with her ebony visage. But when she saw Master Jim decline the draught with his wonted decision of character, thereby rendering it necessary for the nautical man to put powerful restraint on his struggling limbs, and to hold his nose while the surgeon forced open his mouth and poured the contents of the