"We gave him a 'What cheer ho', he comes up with us and passes his broadside upon us, having 13 guns of a side of his lower tier; we returned him as good a salute as we could; he steered from us, falls astern, loaded his guns with double head and round partridge,[30] and then came up again with us, claps us on board, grapples with us on the quarter, and made fast his spritsail topmast to our main-bowline, our main-topsail being furled. After 2 or 3 hours dispute, finding he could not master us, he cut away our boats, and fires us on the quarter, and our mizzen-yard being shot down, fired our sail which burnt very vehemently, and immediately set all the after-part of our ship on fire. Our captain kept the round-house and cuddy, till the fire forced him to retreat, all that were with him being killed or wounded and being got down into the great cabin steerage, he sallied out with those that were there with a resolution rather to be burnt than taken.
"In the interim, the Turk's foresail hanging in the brails over our poop took fire; then he would fain have got clear of us, but we endeavoured to keep him fast, and as many as run up to cut him clear, we fetched down with our small shot, until his sails, masts, shrouds, and yards, were all in a blaze; then we cut loose, and immediately his mast to the deck went by the board, with many men in his top and his bloody flag; several of the men betook themselves to their boats, but at last they overcame the fire, as, thanks be to God, we did likewise on board our ship, having our mizzen-mast burnt by the board and all the after-part of our ship burnt; there was little or no wind. The Turk got his oars, and rowed till he was out of fear of us. . . . We had killed or wounded on board of us in the action with Canary 21 men, but of Turks, according to the account from aboard them, at least 70 or 80 are killed." If every merchantman had put up as good a fight as Captain Thomas Grantham, the Turks would soon have had to retire from their piratical business. As it was, they were able to continue their depredations for some years longer, but not in quite the same wholesale way. The British Navy became more and more active, and in 1681-2 made prizes of a number of Turkish vessels, among them the Admiral of Sally, the Two Lyons and Crown of Argiers, the Three Half Moons, the Golden Lyon, and—what a name for a man-of-war!—the Flowerpott. These captures had an immediate effect. The Algerines became "very inclinable to peace" and offered to release many English captives "gratis". Their last notable exploit in British waters was the attempt to capture a transport in which the Royal Irish Regiment was sailing from Ostend to Cork in 1695.
The "Turk" in this case was a Salee rover, like the one that attacked Robinson Crusoe's ship. She gave chase to the transport and overhauled her, but when she got near enough to see her decks crowded with redcoats she considered discretion to be the better part of valour and hauled off. It is probable that occasional forays were made on our shipping by such marauders in the early part of the eighteenth century, and we have a very detailed account of the wreck of the White Horse, an Algerine frigate, near Penzance, in September, 1740. The return of the greater part of her survivors to Algiers on board the Blonde frigate is an early instance of our national weakness for too tenderly dealing with alien enemies. Slavery had not been abolished; we could easily and legitimately have sold them for slaves to the West Indian planters or to the Knights of Malta, or exchanged them for some of the hundreds of our fellow-countrymen the pirate cities of North Africa still held in bondage. But no, we preferred to set them free and to put them in a position to murder, rob, and enslave yet more Englishmen.
The very last appearance of the Turkish pirate in our waters I have been able to find is of so recent a date as 18th May, 1817, when a couple of Moorish vessels captured a ship coming from Oldenburgh, off the Galloper Shoal, which is not far from the Goodwin Sands. This must have been a very exceptional case, though up to the time Lord Exmouth subjected Algiers to a severe bombardment the "Turks" were still a danger to merchantmen in southern waters. The pest was not stamped out until the capture of the famous pirate city by the French in 1830. So confident and so truculent were the Deys of Algiers as late as the early part of the nineteenth century that, in 1804, even Nelson, in command of a powerful fleet, was unable to make the Dey give an interview to Captain Keats of the Superb, whom he had sent as bearer of a letter setting forth certain British claims. Incredible to relate, no further steps were taken, and the fleet put to sea and resumed the blockade of Toulon. We can hardly, therefore, be surprised to read that in the same year the "Turks" should have had the hardihood to attack the United States frigate Philadelphia, which took the ground off Tripoli when in pursuit of a pirate. The Americans fought for four hours, but, the ship being by that time almost on her beam ends, had eventually to strike their colours, and both officers and men were carried ashore into slavery.
CHAPTER IX
The Honour of the Flag
"Ye mariners of England!
That guard our native seas;
Whose flag has braved, a thousand years,
The battle and the breeze!
Your glorious standard launch again
To match another foe.
. . . . . . .
The meteor flag of England
Shall yet terrific burn
Till danger's troubled night depart,
And the star of peace return."
"Ye Mariners of England." Thomas Campbell.