CHAPTER XII
A Brush with Algerines
The wind, which had veered in the night and was now nearly dead astern, had moderated in force considerably, and although 'twas raining I could just distinguish a range of cliffs on our starboard hand, ending in a lofty headland with a sheer fall into the sea.
But the cause of the commotion on board was the presence of a long, narrow craft that was bowling along barely two miles off our larboard quarter. She had a lofty fo'c'sle and poop, with a low waist, her rig consisting of two raking masts, from the slanting yards of which bellied closely reefed, loose-footed triangular sails. She flew no colours, but from the foremast head a long streamer stood out as rigid as a spar.
"They mean mischief," said Captain Jeremy to the master gunner, who, having called the guns' crews to their stations, had come off to confer with him.
"'Tis strange enow," replied Master Touchstone, "seeing that we are at peace with the French, the Hollanders, and the Spaniards. What think you she is?"
"An Algerine,[1] judging from the cut of her rig," replied Captain Jeremy, "though I scarce thought to meet one of those rascally rovers so close to the English shores. It seems as if Admiral Robert Blake--who upheld the honour of England on the high seas, even though he were a stout rebel--has taught them but half a lesson."
"Report says that last October two of their galleys captured the Sea Dog, of Padstow, within sight of the Lizard," observed the master gunner. "Seven stout Cornish fishermen are even now slaving in their pirate dens, for aught I know to the contrary."
"They'll not carry the Golden Hope, Master Touchstone," replied Captain Jeremy resolutely. "Your preparations are complete, I take it."
"Aye, aye. Four guns abroadside are loaded to the muzzle with musket bullets, four of the others with iron balls, and one with bar shot. 'Twill make a fine present for yon craft, if she be in a mind to take it."
From where I stood at the head of the poop ladder I could command a clear view of the brig's deck. The guns, with powder and ball ready to hand, were as yet still run in, for with the heavy sea that was raging 'twas unwise to trice up the ports until the actual time to open fire, and we were thus also able to deceive the stranger, who doubtless took us for a merchantman. Had our ports been open and our line of gunning ordnance showing, the Algerine--for such she proved to be--might have shirked a conflict; but Captain Jeremy's blood was up, and he swore that he'd give the rascally sea-rovers a lesson that they would not be likely to forget.
Our crew--for most of them had smelt powder before, having served in the Dutch wars--maintained perfect discipline, keeping well out of sight; yet they stood grasping tackles and handspikes, ready at the signal to run out their guns and deliver a crashing broadside.
"They do not fear to press her," observed the master gunner, "though they do not seek to gain the weather gauge. Think you that they'll dare to board, sir?"
"With this sea running? Aye, they'll try to run under our lee and throw a score of their ruffianly crew aboard us. And were we a peaceful trading craft they'd do it, though the sea were twice as high. Smart helmsmen most of those rascals are. I call to mind a Spanish captain I met in Cadiz nine years agone, who told me how his vessel, a xebec, was carried by an Algerine ship in this fashion, and in a heavy Levanter, to boot. But now, Master Touchstone, to your station!"
The Algerine was now but a few hundred yards astern, the foam flying from her sharp bows as they cleft the water. She had put up her helm and was bearing down on our lee quarter, doubtless to board in the manner that Captain Jeremy had predicted.
Observing that those of the crew who were not at the guns had armed themselves with musket or pistol, I took hold of a musket. Thanks to my forest training, I was well accustomed to handle a gun, being reckoned a tolerable shot, though on board the Golden Hope the motion of the ship put me at a disadvantage. Nevertheless, lying down on the poop, where a score of musketeers had already taken up a like position, I awaited the opening of the engagement, though I must confess the prospect of being under fire did not seem so welcome as it had in the security of my own home, where I used to hear the tales of glorious sea fights.
The sight of Captain Jeremy helped to reassure me. He was standing a short distance from the helmsman, his feet set widely apart and his shoulders braced up, with the air of a man who knows how to keep calm and resolute in the time of danger. Alternately glancing at the tightly drawing sails and the hostile ship astern, he directed the brig's course by a gentle motion of his hand, a signal that the quick-witted quartermaster knew how to obey.
"Stand by the weather after braces," the Captain shouted, and in response to the order the men rushed to man the ropes that served to trim the sails.
"Are you ready, master gunner?"
"Aye, aye, sir."
The Algerine was now barely one hundred yards astern, having achieved her object of getting to lee'ard of us. I could see her lofty fo'c'sle crowded with men--brown, black, aye, and even white faces, for renegades were to be found in the service of the infidels. Some of the crew wore turbans and flowing robes, others a kind-of hooded garment that reached to the knees; but the majority were naked from the waist upwards. With scimitar, spear, pistol, and musket they crowded ready for a spring upon our decks, while they rent the air with shouts of defiance and rage, which were borne to our ears by the wind.
"Ready all! Ease the helm down!"
The Golden Hope gave a swift, and graceful turn, so that she exposed the whole of her larboard broadside to her enemy. Then, as the Algerine likewise put her helm down to avoid a collision that would doubtless have proved fatal to both craft, nine of our vessel's guns were run out, and a crashing volley was poured into our entrapped foe.
When the smoke had cleared away I saw a sight that I shall never forget. The fo'c'sle, swept by a hail of bullets, was covered by a writhing mass of dead and wounded men; her bows were beaten in by the solid shot; while her foremast, cut off about six feet from the deck, had fallen to lee'ard, bringing with it the heavy lateen yard and sail, and crushing in its descent several of the crew who were in the waist.
Owing to the high seas that were running, the Algerine had been unable to use her oars; but the luckless slaves, chained to their benches, did not escape the hail of shot, much as we should have wished otherwise.
Amidst the clamour of shrieks, groans, and maledictions, for the havoc our broadside had caused was immense, two white men sprang over the side of the Algerine and began to swim in our direction.
"There are some slaves escaping," shouted one of our seamen from the fo'c'sle.
"Where away?" asked Captain Jeremy.
"Dead astern, sir."
"Then 'bout ship. I'll do my best to pick them up. Yon rascals will give us no more trouble."
'Twas no easy task, for by the time the Golden Hope's bow was pointed towards the spot where two heads could be discerned as they rose upon the crest of a wave, we were nearly a quarter of a mile away, while the disabled Algerine, drifting bodily with the wind and falling broadside on to the breakers, was doomed to a terrible fate on the rock-bound coast.
To get the two poor fugitives on board seemed impossible, for no boat could live in such a sea. Even our guns' crews were at times working up to the knees in water as they strove to secure their guns, now that they were no longer required. But by means of a line attached to a barrico and veered out to lee'ard, one of the men was hauled up over the brig's side. The second slave was not so fortunate. He must have been wounded, for he was seen to be swimming very feebly; and ere the line came within his grasp he sank, in spite of a gallant effort on the part of his companion to save him.
Meanwhile the Golden Hope was put on her former course, or nearly so, for in the pursuit and action--though the latter lasted but a minute at the outside--we had drifted to within a dangerous distance of the shore, where the surf was licking the face of the frowning cliff towards which the Algerine was rapidly being carried.
We could clearly discern the last of the villainous but unfortunate vessel. With her foremast shot away she was helpless, in spite of frantic efforts to row her seaward. As fast as the heavy sweeps were shipped they were shattered by the irresistible force of the waves, till, midst a turmoil of foam, the doomed ship struck the cliff.
"The Deadman[2] has claimed another toll," shouted Captain Jeremy in my ear. "Yon's one of the worst parts of the Cornish coast, and should a single man of her crew reach the land, he'll meet with short shrift at the hands of the wreckers and smugglers."
I had escaped my first experience of being under fire, somewhat to my regret, now that the affair was over, for I had a presentiment that 'twas but putting off the evil day. Yet I had gained some knowledge of how Englishmen behave in times of danger, and that knowledge was of no mean value.
Four hours later the Golden Hope rounded the Lizard, and in a now rapidly subsiding sea entered the vast expanse of the Atlantic Ocean.
Well before sunset I saw the lofty cliffs disappear beneath the horizon, and that was my last sight of Old England for many a long day.
[1] During the seventeenth and even well into the eighteenth century occasional raids by Algerine corsairs upon the shipping in the Channel were reported. In the Naval Chronicle for 1807 a letter from one naval officer to another is given, under date of 1743. He describes the wreck of a disabled Algerine off Land's End, pouring out a whole torrent of abusive sarcasm upon the authorities of Falmouth for sending "pork to feed the Mussulmans, being contrary to their religion".
[2] The Dodman, a precipitous headland on the South Cornish coast, between Fowey and Falmouth, is even now familiarly named "The Deadman" by seamen. The most notable wrecks there in recent years were those of the Thresher and the Lynx in 1897.