'29th.—We have just arrived at Genoa after a tedious and unpleasant voyage, the last six days squalls and heavy gales of wind and lightning. Genoa is a most beautiful city, and situated most delightfully. Last night I was at the Opera, and it is exactly the same as our own in England, it is much larger and a most magnificent theatre. The houses are mostly of marble and beautifully ornamented, they are immensely high but the streets very narrow. There are no ships here and we sail for Marseilles as soon as we have watered. Pray give my best love to Lady C. and all hands on board.'
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It is of interest to note the mention in this letter of Charles Yorke's first visit to Genoa, and the impression that beautiful city, 'Genova la superba,' made upon his youthful imagination. As will appear further on in this memoir, he visited it again some thirty-five years later in very different circumstances, and that Genoa exists to-day, with much of its beauty unimpaired, is mainly owing to the part played by Charles Yorke when, as Lord Hardwicke, he again appeared in a British man-of-war off that port.
The boy's wish to stay on the Sparrowhawk expressed in this letter to his father was not fulfilled, for a month after his arrival in the Mediterranean he was transferred to the Leviathan, of 74 guns, commanded successively by Captains F. W. Burgoyne and Thomas Briggs. In her he remained a little less than a year, during which he had a serious attack of scarlet fever followed by rheumatism, which left him very weak, and raised a question as to whether he should be invalided home. He was, however, exceedingly popular with his superiors, who were most kind and attentive to him through his illness, and he was lucky enough to recover without having to return to England. In August of 1816 he was again transferred, to the Queen Charlotte, Captain Brisbane, a ship of the line of 120 guns, and the flagship of Admiral Lord Exmouth, commanding in the Mediterranean.
The young midshipman was most fortunate in being stationed under that command, for it was the one place in the world at that moment where there was any probability of seeing active service. The supremacy of the British navy which had been established over the fleets of France and Spain at Trafalgar, and the recent peace which had followed the defeat and surrender of Buonaparte, had removed any possibility of collision with a European State. But, as a matter of fact, the naval Powers, England in particular, had long been waiting an opportunity to settle a long-standing account in the Mediterranean with a set of potentates established on the north coast of Africa, who had for years availed themselves of the dissensions between the Great Powers to carry on a system of piracy and rapine of the most insolent and atrocious character. During the naval wars which had lasted with short intervals for half a century, the fleets of England, France, Spain, and Holland had been so much occupied in fighting each other that they had been unable to bestow much attention on the doings of these petty rulers, who were known collectively as the Barbary States, individually as the Deys of Algiers, Tunis, and Tripoli. All of these owned nominal allegiance to the Sultan of Turkey at Constantinople when it suited them, but in reality claimed and exercised complete independence when such was convenient to any purpose they had in hand.
For half a century at least, the depredations of these barbarians had made the Mediterranean a sea of great peril for the merchant vessels of all nations, and even for the fighting ships of the smaller Mediterranean powers like Naples and Sardinia, whose weakly manned vessels were often no match for the galleys and feluccas of the Barbary corsairs. The ruffianly Deys made little attempt to conceal the piratical nature of their proceedings, and became a perfect scourge not only to the mariners of all nations in the Mediterranean, but also to the unfortunate inhabitants of its shores. They ravaged the islands and coastline of the mainland wherever there was plunder to be gained or an unprotected town to be raided, impudently hoisted the flags of one or other of the great naval powers then at war, and preyed upon the commerce of the rest, plundered and burned their shipping, and, worst of all, consigned the crews of the vessels they captured or destroyed to all the horrors of slavery in a Mohammedan country.
Among these Barbary Powers the Deys of Algiers had long been the most powerful and the most truculent. During a lull in the fighting between France and England in the middle years of the eighteenth century, Admiral Keppel, [Footnote: Admiral Keppel, second son of the second Earl of Albemarle, created Viscount Keppel for his gallant services; died unmarried in 1786. He was the eponymous hero of so many public houses.] then a very youthful-looking captain, had been sent with a squadron to curb the insolence of the Dey of that period, which he effected without the firing of a shot. Keppel demanded an interview with the Dey, and went ashore to the palace without a guard, and stated his business in very plain terms. The Dey wondered at the presumption of King George in sending a beardless boy as his ambassador. 'The King my master,' replied Keppel, with a glance at the Dey's hairy countenance, 'does not measure wisdom by the length of the beard, or he would have sent a he-goat to confer with your Highness.' The Dey raged at this bold repartee, and began to speak of bowstrings and the ministers of death. 'Kill me, if you will,' replied Keppel, pointing through the open window to his squadron riding in the roadstead, 'and there are ships enough to burn your city and provide me with a glorious funeral pile.' Keppel's firmness had the result of checking the Algerian piracies for a time, but during the long wars between the Powers which were shortly resumed, these were overlooked in the press of matters of more urgency, and it was only with the return of a permanent and general peace, as already noted, that the Powers had leisure to turn their attention to a state of things in the Mediterranean which had long been intolerable.
In view of her established supremacy at sea, England was generally regarded as the police-constable of Europe in naval affairs, and upon her fell the chief duty of chastening the Dey of Algiers, though on this occasion the Dutch Government also lent its assistance. Quite early in the spring of 1816, Lord Exmouth placed himself in communication with the Dey, and stated the terms of the British demands. These were that the Ionian Islands, long a hunting-ground for the Barbary pirates, should be henceforth treated as British territory; that the British Government should be accepted as arbitrator between the Barbary Powers and Naples and Sardinia, who had a long list of claims and grievances against them; and that the Barbary Powers should enter into a definite undertaking to abolish all slavery of Christians within their dominions, and to treat all prisoners of war, of whatever nation, in accordance with the customs of civilised nations. The Dey agreed to the first two demands and released the Ionian slaves as British subjects, but declined all promises as to the abolition of slavery. Leaving that matter in abeyance, Exmouth sailed on to Tripoli and Tunis, whose Deys he found more amenable to reason, and who consented to make declarations in the form demanded by the British Admiral upon all three points.
Exmouth then returned to Gibraltar, where his squadron was assembled, and at once resumed negotiations with the Dey with the intention of procuring his adhesion to the all-important undertaking to abolish Christian slavery. The Dey, after many evasions, at length repeated his refusal on the ground that he was a subject or vassal of the Sultan, and could not consent to so important a stipulation without his authority. Exmouth granted a delay of three months accordingly, and himself lent a frigate, the Tagus, to convey the Dey's envoy to Constantinople.
Meanwhile, however, the Dey committed an unpardonable atrocity. A coral fishery at Bona worked under the British flag was suddenly and treacherously destroyed by an attack of the Algerines. The fishermen engaged at their work were, without warning of any kind, almost annihilated by artillery fire from the fort and by the musketry of 2000 Algerian infantry, their houses and goods were given over to the looting of the soldiery, the company's stores and magazines were rifled, and their boats either seized or sunk. This atrocity, of course, put an end to all negotiation, and the Admiral, who had sailed for England, was at once directed by the British Government to complete the work which he had initiated, and to exact the most ample satisfaction and security for the future. He was offered any force that might be necessary, and surprised the naval authorities by his opinion, which was the result of observation upon the spot, that five line-of-battle ships, with frigates, bomb vessels and gun brigs, would be sufficient for a successful attack on the formidable defences of Algiers. In less than two months Lord Exmouth commissioned, fitted, manned and trained his fleet, and on August 14, 1816, the expedition, including his own flagship the Queen Charlotte of 120 guns, the Impregnable of 98, three vessels of 70 guns, the Leander of 50, four smaller frigates and several armed vessels of lesser tonnage, sailed from Gibraltar. One of these, a gunboat, towed by the Queen Charlotte from that port, was placed under the command of Charles Yorke, who had just completed his seventeenth year. The English admiral's force was joined at Gibraltar by a Dutch squadron of five frigates and a sloop under Admiral Baron von de Capellan.