The interest which Algiers has for the traveller is closely bound up with the hideous story of the Christian captives. Our literature, especially of the seventeenth century, is full of allusion to their miserable condition. Their numbers were prodigious. In 1646 it was reckoned that there were not less than 20,000 such slaves. During our Civil War the Channel was full of Algerine pirates, and their operations extended to the North Sea. The Long Parliament passed an Act “whereby they did manifest unto the world their resolution of undertaking that Christian work of the Redemption of the Captives from the cruel thraldom that they lay under,” and established a tax on merchants’ goods, called “Algier duty,” to provide funds for the purpose. Many distinguished men were at one time or another slaves in Barbary. Cervantes was in captivity for five years, and has related some of his miseries in the story of “The Captive” in “Don Quixote.” He who went to sea in those days had to face the chance of “being taken by the insolent foe and sold to slavery.” It will be recalled that before he set forth on his immortal voyage Robinson Crusoe was captured by a Sallee-rover, and worked as a slave. Samuel Pepys records (February 8th, 1660-1) a conversation on the subject: “At noon to the Exchange to meet Mr. Warren the timber merchant, but could not meet with him. Here I met with many sea commanders, and among others Captain Cuttle, and Curtis and Mootham, and I went to the Fleece Tavern to drink; and there we spent till four o’clock, telling stories of Algiers, and the manner of the life of slaves there. And truly Captain Mootham and Mr. Dawes (who have been both slaves there) did make me fully acquainted with their condition there: as, how they eat nothing but bread and water. At their redemption they pay so much for the water they drink at the public fountaynes, during their being slaves. How they are beat upon the soles of their feet and bellies at the liberty of their padron. How they are all, at night, called into their master’s Bagnard [prison]; and there they lie. How the poorest men do use their slaves best. How some rogues do live well, if they do invent to bring their masters in so much a week by their industry or theft.” Other accounts give far more harrowing details of the sufferings of the slaves and of the tortures they endured.
When a prize was brought in, the crew and the passengers were forced by torture, generally the bastinado, to declare their quality and condition. The Dey selected one in eight for himself, generally preferring skilled workmen. The remainder were sold by auction for the benefit of the owners and crews of the pirate vessels. The European Powers maintained consuls at Algiers, and through them, and other agencies, those of the captives whose friends could find the ransom demanded, were, after much delay, redeemed.
That such an iniquity was more or less tolerated for centuries is one of the curiosities of history. It can only be explained by the fact that European nations found it a convenient scourge for their enemies. France and England especially were continually intriguing to make infamous treaties with the Dey to the benefit of each against the other. All nations, including the United States of America, after they obtained their independence in 1783, paid tribute to the Dey in one form or another to secure the exemption of their vessels from capture; but the Algerines never respected any treaty when they could violate it with advantage or probable impunity.
The close of the Napoleonic wars gave England not only undisputed command of the sea, but leisure to deal with the open sore of Algerian piracy. She was not slow to use it. At the beginning of 1816 Lord Exmouth was ordered to visit the Barbary States and obtain the release of such slaves as were British subjects—chiefly Ionians—or subjects of Great Britain’s allies. At Algiers the Dey readily released the Ionians, and also the Neapolitans and Sardinians, on payment of a ransom. Lord Exmouth proceeded to Tunis and Tripoli, and concluded treaties with the Beys, who agreed to abolish the institution of Christian slavery altogether. He then returned to Algiers and endeavoured to get the Dey to make a similar treaty. The Dey declined to accede, but finally consented to treat at London and Constantinople. Lord Exmouth took a high hand; he told the Dey that he evidently had little idea of the power of a British man-of-war, and that he would engage, if hostilities became necessary, to blow the place to pieces with five line-of-battle ships. Shortly after he had sailed for England matters were brought to a climax by an attack by Turks and Arabs on a large number of coral-fishermen, sailing under French and English colours, who had landed at Bona on Ascension Day. About two hundred were massacred in a church and hundreds more wounded. The British consul was killed, the houses of Christians pillaged, and the British flag trampled under foot. The British Government considered that the cup was now full, and that strong measures must be taken against these barbarians. On Lord Exmouth’s arrival a fresh fleet was fitted out. He was offered any force he required, but he determined to rely on the five battleships he had mentioned to the Dey. To these were added five frigates and some smaller vessels. At Gibraltar he found a Dutch squadron of five frigates and a corvette under Admiral van Capellan, who asked and obtained leave to co-operate.
After some vexatious delays Exmouth arrived off Algiers on August 26th, 1816. His despatch, dated August 28th, is very interesting reading. He had previously sent on the Prometheus, to endeavour to bring away the British consul, Captain Dashwood. A landing party brought off his wife and daughter, disguised in midshipmen’s uniforms. The surgeon was following with the consul’s infant child concealed in a basket. As he was entering a boat the child, unfortunately, cried, with the result that the surgeon, three midshipmen, and others, in all eighteen persons, were seized and confined as slaves in the usual dungeons. “The child was sent off next morning by the Dey, and as a solitary instance of his humanity it ought to be recorded by me,” says his lordship. Captain Dashwood was closely confined in irons.
The Prometheus brought word that energetic measures of defence had been taken; that additional works had been thrown up, and a large army assembled. The whole Algerine fleet was collected within the mole. On the morning of the 27th the fleet was lying in sight of the city becalmed, and Exmouth sent ashore a flag of truce with the demands he was instructed to make. Receiving no answer, and the day breeze landwards having sprung up, he moved his fleet in towards the mole, the Queen Charlotte, the flagship, leading. The shore batteries opened the engagement with a tremendous fire, whereupon the leading ship commenced action. Before nightfall the enemy’s fleet was completely destroyed, his batteries abandoned, and half the town in ruins. At midnight the ships and parts of the town were still burning. Thus did Lord Exmouth demonstrate to the Dey the power of five English ships of the line. The battle was of quite an unprecedented nature; it was a new departure to bring a fleet up close under the guns of formidable batteries. The fleet had poured 50,000 shot, weighing over 500 tons of iron, into the town, and used 118 tons of powder. A little touch illustrates the close quarters of the combatants. A vast crowd of Arabs was collected on the shore, and before he opened fire Lord Exmouth called out and waved to them to depart. The warning had no effect, and thousands were killed.
The English losses were considerable, 123 men killed and 690 wounded. The Dutch had 13 killed and 52 wounded. Lord Exmouth himself was struck three times, but escaped unhurt. It was pointed out at the time that, in proportion to the number of men in the English ships engaged, the casualties were far higher than in any of Nelson’s victories.
The Dey must have passed an uncomfortable night, and morning found him in a very humble mood. He agreed to all the English demands; these were, the abolition of Christian slavery for ever, and an undertaking to treat prisoners of war according to the usage of civilized nations; the immediate delivery of all slaves; the repayment of the ransom of the Neapolitan and Sardinian captives; an apology and reparation to the English consul. Having accepted these comprehensive and ignominious terms, not as regards the apology to the consul with a very good grace, the Dey consoled himself by beheading his prime minister.
It has been given to another nation to break down for good and all the Turkish tyranny, and to restore these fair lands to Europe and civilization, but we may congratulate ourselves that the gallantry of our own navy dealt the first serious blow, and exposed the hollowness of the game of bluff which the corsairs of Algiers had played against Christendom for centuries. Yet nothing can quench our wonder that the hand was held up so long, even into the lifetime of men still living and vigorous.