CHAPTER VIII

The "Turks" in the Channel

"All, all asleep within each roof, along the rocky street,

And these must be the lovers' friends, with gently sliding feet--

A stifled gasp! a dreary noise! 'The roof is in a flame!'

From out their beds, and to their doors, rush maid, and sire, and dame--

And meet, upon the threshold stone, the gleaming sabre's fall,

And o'er each black and bearded face the white or crimson shawl--

The yell of 'Allah!' breaks above the prayer and shriek and roar--

Oh, blessed God! The Algerine is lord of Baltimore!"

_The Sack of Baltimore_, by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS.

YOU may read dozens of English histories, and even histories of the

British Navy, and find little or no mention of the subject of this

chapter. And yet during the sixteenth, seventeenth, and part of the

eighteenth centuries the Algerine pirates, or "Turks" as they were

generally called, were a real menace to our trade, our fishermen, and

even to the dwellers on our coasts. The story is not at all a creditable

one to us as a nation, nor did the Navy itself gain any particular

distinction in fighting with these pests; but this was not so much the

fault of our sea-commanders and their men as of the Government, which

rarely gave them any real opportunity of exterminating the Turkish

pirates that infested even our home waters.

The most discreditable part of all was that played by the British

renegades, who were, more than anyone else, responsible for the Turkish

efficiency at sea. Left to themselves, the corsairs from Algiers, Tunis,

and Salee would never have become formidable. In mediæval times, as has

already been noted, the English had the reputation of being "good

seamen, but better pirates", and piracy (including English piracy),

though scotched, was not killed till some time after the days of "Good

Queen Bess". Why, in the youth of Edward VI, when the country was ruled

by the Regent Somerset, the Regent's own brother--Sir Thomas Seymour,

the Lord High Admiral of England--did not disdain to "do a bit in that

line" himself!

The story is this. He had been married to the Queen Dowager. When she

died, he found himself rather "hard up". From his position he knew all

about the Channel pirates; he had dealt with lots of them, and "executed

justice" on them for their misdeeds. Now, however, he entered into a

surreptitious partnership with them, "winked the other eye" at

complaints, and pocketed half-profits. He did so well that he tried to

start a special mint of his own at Bristol. He still pretended to the

Regent and the Council to be very poor, and eventually succeeded in

getting an addition of 1500 ducats a year to his salary. He was allowed,

moreover, to draw this in a lump sum in advance. But it was not very

long before the Council began to "smell a rat". The pirates naturally

got bolder and bolder, knowing that they could work with impunity, and

Sir Thomas Seymour was asked "why he did not look after these matters?"

"Oh," said he, "I am just sending three ships after these fellows! I'll

soon make things all right." His ships sailed, but only to become the

worst and most successful freebooters in British waters. Their

depredations and his great wealth, which, it seems, he spent openly and

extravagantly, could not long remain a secret, and he was again summoned

before the Council. He still asserted that he was poverty-stricken, but

he could no longer get anyone to believe him, and a piratical captain

who was captured about this time admitted, under examination, that the

admiral had "gone halves" with him. "Brother or no brother, he must be

executed for this," said the Protector Somerset--and he was.

When a man in Sir Thomas Seymour's exalted position could behave in

this manner, one can hardly be surprised that lesser "gentlemen" were

not ashamed to follow in his footsteps--even some years later.

The first appearance of Mohammedan pirates in Northern waters was at a

time very remote from that of which I am now writing, but I think it is

of sufficient interest to deserve a passing reference. It was in the

year 1048--just eighteen years before the Conquest--that news came to

William of Normandy that a band of Moorish or Saracen pirates had

established themselves in a castle which they had built on an eminence

right in the middle of the Island of Guernsey, from which they harassed

and terrorized the inhabitants. A knight, Samson d'Anville, was sent to

destroy "Le Château du Grand Sarrasin", as it was called, and he

apparently succeeded in rooting out the wasps' nest; and when in 1203 a

church was built on the site, the salvation of the islanders was

commemorated by its consecration as "Notre Dame de la Deliverance du

Castel". Catel Church still stands on this historic spot. We hear no

more of Saracen pirates in Northern seas till the sixteenth century,

unless the mysterious ships which were driven ashore near Berwick in

1254 were in any way connected with them. Certainly the ships of any

Northern nation would have been recognizable on our north-east coast.

The ships in question "were large handsome vessels, but unlike anything

ever before seen in this country: well provided with naval stores and

provisions, and laden with coats of mail, shields and weapons of all

kinds, sufficient for an army".[25] Their crews were arrested "as

barbarians, or spies, or even enemies", but as no one understood their

language, nothing whatever could be made of them, and so they were

eventually allowed to depart in peace. Who they were, whence they came,

and whither they went has never been discovered. The incident remains

one of the most impenetrable of the many mysteries of the sea.

The foundation of the piratical States on the north coast of Africa,

which were to be the source of untold misery to European nations, may be

traced to the final expulsion of the Moors from Spain in 1509. Pursued

by the Spaniards to Algiers--or Argier, as it was then usually

called--the Moors called in the assistance of Arouji Barbarossa, a noted

Mediterranean corsair. He succeeded in beating off the invaders and

established himself as first Dey. Tunis, Sallee, and other rover

communities soon sprang up along the African coast, and, beginning by

retaliating on the Spaniards, the "Turks" gradually extended their

sphere of operations till they became a terror to Christendom.

Christendom had itself to blame in a very great measure, since the

Christian nations could never agree long enough between themselves to

stamp out effectively these nests of pirates. Ceasing to be content with

the spoils and slaves they could capture in the Mediterranean, they set

themselves to--

"Keeping in awe the Bay of Portingale

And all the ocean by the British Shore".[26]

The churchwardens' accounts of the parish of St. Helen's, Abingdon, bear

curious witness to the pitch at which Turkish piracy had arrived by the

year 1565. An entry in this year runs as follows: "Payde for two bokes

of Common Prayer agaynst invading of the Turke 0_s._ 6_d._" The special

prayer was probably the one that ran thus:

"O Almighty and Everlasting God, our Heavenly Father,

we Thy disobedient and rebellious children, now by Thy

just judgement sore afflicted, and in great danger to

be oppressed, by Thine and our sworn and most deadly

enemies, the Turks, &c."

The danger was evidently felt to be imminent. By 1576 the "Turks" of

Argier had no less than 25,000 Christian captives in their cruel

clutches. Most, certainly, came from the southern European countries,

but our turn was to come, and half a dozen years later the miscreants

were boasting as much to their English captives. We still had our own as

well as Flemish, Irish, and French piratical gentlemen in the Channel at

this time, for in 1580 the Council called the attention of the Cinque

Ports to the fact that such robbers were "daily received and harboured

by the inhabitants of the said places, making open sale of their spoils

without interruption".

[Illustration: A Turkish Pirate Ship of 1579 (_From a print of Algiers

of that year_)

Observe the sharp ram, the tower-like forecastle, and the curiously

perched cabin aft. Also the tail-like ornaments at the stern, possibly

reminiscent of the sterns of the old "Dragon-ships" and "Long Serpents".

The big and somewhat triangular openings are probably gun-ports, but no

guns are visible.]

It is probable that the attempts at the suppression of our own

sea-robbers drove some of them into the ranks of the Barbary corsairs.

And among them, it is shameful to relate, were not a few men of good

family. Captain John Smith, who wrote about 1630, explains that at the

accession of James I the "Gentlemen Adventurers" and other seaman who

had long carried on a sort of licensed piracy against the Spanish

possessions and ships on the Spanish Main, found themselves, like

Othello, with their "occupation gone". James wanted to live at peace

with everybody. As an epigram of the time put it:

"When Elizabeth was England's King,

That dreadful name thro' Spain did ring;

How altered is the case ad sa'me,

These juggling days of good Queen Jamie".

So that, to quote John Smith on the Gentlemen Adventurers, "those that

were rich, rested with what they had; those that were poor, and had

nothing but from hand to mouth, turned pirates; some because they were

slighted of those for whom they had got much wealth; some for that they

could not get their due; some that had lived bravely would not abase

themselves to poverty.... Now because they grew hateful to all Christian

Princes, they retired to Barbary, where altho' there be not many good

harbours, but Tunis, Algier, Sally, Marmora and Tituane, there are many

convenient roads.... Ward, a poor English sailor, and Dansker, a

Dutchman made first here their marts when the Moors scarce knew how to

sail a ship. Bishop was ancient and did little hurt; but Easton got so

much as made himself a Marquess in Savoy, and Ward lived like a Bashaw

in Barbary; those were the first taught the Moors to be men of war." He

gives the names of several other noted English pirates of the time: some

were hung, others were "mercifully pardoned" by King James. Other

villains acted as agents and contrived to give the "Turks" wind of the

sailing of any punitive expedition.

"For there being several Englishmen," writes Sir William Monson, the

celebrated Admiral, "who have been too long in trading with pirates, and

furnishing them with powder and other necessaries, it is to be feared

those same Englishmen will endeavour to give the pirates intelligence,

lest their being taken, their wicked practices should be discovered."

Thanks to such scoundrels as these the "Turks" were able to attack us

in our own waters. By 1616 they had no less than thirty ships north of

the Mediterranean, and in that year a Salee rover was actually captured

in the River Thames. By the year following so many British ships had

been taken by the "Turks" that the merchants of London established a

fund of £40,000--the Trinity House contributing £1068--"for the

merchants and ships of the Port of London as a fund against the Turks".

Four hundred and sixty British ships had already fallen into their

hands.

When in 1619 Sir John Killigrew asked permission to erect a lighthouse

on the Lizard the Trinity House refused, on the ground "that it is not

necessary or convenient to erect a lighthouse there, but _per contra_,

inconvenient, having regard to _pirates_ and enemies whom it would

conduct to a safe place of landing". In 1620 James I was at last

persuaded to send an expedition against "Argier". The £40,000 collected

in London, and other sums subscribed, went towards its equipment. It

consisted of six men-of-war and twelve hired merchantmen under Sir

Robert Mansell; but as during the previous sixteen years of the King's

reign, "never a nail had been knocked into any of the Royal ships", and

as their captains "were of little repute", the whole affair turned out

such a dismal failure that the Algerines were encouraged to attack us

with greater determination than ever.

"But too true it is," wrote Monson, "that since that time our poor

English, and especially the people of the West country, who trade that

way daily, fall into the hands of those pirates. It is too lamentable to

hear their complaints, and too intolerable to suffer the misery that has

befallen them."[27]

By 1625 the Turkish pirate ship was "a common object of the seashore" in

the West. There were at least a score of them in the Channel. They

captured the Island of Lundy, and, "Hun-like", threatened to burn

Ilfracombe unless a large sum was paid as indemnity. They landed in

Cornwall one Sunday, surrounded a church while divine service was

proceeding, and carried off sixty men from the congregation into

slavery. Some months earlier it had been officially reported that there

were nearly 1400 Englishmen captive in Salee alone, "all, or greatest

part, taken within 20 or 30 miles of Dartmouth, Plymouth, or Falmouth.

When the winter takes, then the Sally men-of-war go to Flushing and

Holland, where, having supplied all wants, and the winter past, they go

to sea again. If they want men in the places with the Dutch, they are

furnished."

Perhaps the most celebrated coastal raid was that made by Murad Reis

upon the village of Baltimore, on the Munster coast, on 31st June, 1631.

Piloted by a traitor from Dungarvon--one Flachet by name, who, it is

consoling to learn, expiated his crime on the scaffold--the "Turks"

sailed into the little harbour in the dead of night and descended on the

sleeping village like a "bolt from the blue". Completely surprised, the

Irishmen could oppose no resistance to the dark-skinned demons and their

blacker-hearted renegade comrades. Those who were not fortunate enough

to be slain on their own doorsteps were herded on board the corsairs

with all the weeping women and children of the village, even babies in

arms, and carried off into a captivity worse than death itself. The

total "bag" amounted to 237 men, women, and children. Baltimore was then

a thriving fishing centre, but it has never recovered from this raid.

The south coast of Ireland and the Bristol Channel seem to have been a

favourite hunting-ground at this period. Murad had already been harrying

the English coast before he carried out his coup at Baltimore. The year

before the "Turks" had taken six ships _near Bristol_, and had

something like forty ships operating in English waters. But the

Government of King Charles was so feeble and so incompetent that even

the Sack of Baltimore failed to rouse it to the necessary action.

The navy was willing enough to deal with the pirates, but it was in a

very poor way itself, its men robbed, starved, and stinted, its ships

and many of their commanders anything but efficient. It is even stated

that two of the King's ships lying at Kinsale had word of Murad Reis's

attack, but did not attempt to intercept it. Apparently all that was

done was to set up additional alarm-beacons on the coast. Captain

Richard Plumleigh wrote from Waterford in October of the year following,

reporting an engagement he had had with "the arch-pirate Nutt", and

adds, "Nutt has 2 Turks with him and his consort.... I never saw people

in whom one disaster had settled so deep an impression as the Turks'

last descent hath done in these Irish: every small fleet they see on the

coast puts them into arms, or at least to their heels."

There would appear to have been something like a permanent, though

inefficient, watch in St. George's Channel about this time, for in 1634

Sir John Plumleigh, another naval officer, writes from the Isle of Man,

after "scouring" those waters, "Of the Turks as yet we hear nothing,

though the general bruit runs that they intend hither this year, as some

prisoners from Algiers have written over to their friends". So

enterprising had the pirates become that not long before this it was

represented very strongly to the Mayor of Barnstaple that "unless

vigorous steps are taken for the suppression of these marauders" there

was great danger that "they will fall upon our fishing shippes both at

Newfoundland and Virginea, for they desire both our shippes and men".

The "Turks" were, in fact, insatiable. At this time it was reported that

they had 25,000 Christian slaves in Algiers alone, besides 8000

renegades, among whom were over 1000 women. The petitions to the

Government from coastal towns, from merchants, from the friends and

relations of the unhappy captives, were legion--but nothing practical

was done. The celebrated Robert Boyle writes of his passage from Youghal

to Bristol in 1635, that he accomplished it safely, "though the Irish

coasts were infested with Turkish galleys".

[Illustration: THE RELEASE OF CHRISTIAN PRISONERS AT ALGIERS

The bold and aggressive Turkish pirates were for long the terror of

merchantmen. So successful were they in their raids that at one time

they were reported to have 25,000 Christian slaves in Algiers alone.]

Two years later a squadron under Captain William Rainsborow was actually

dispatched against Salee. This port was blockaded by four ships, which

were reinforced by four more, and after destroying every Turkish ship

which attempted to break the blockade, the squadron closed in to the

city, and so battered its fortifications that the pirates were glad to

make terms by giving up 400 English slaves. The success of Captain

Rainsborow shows what might have been done had the same process been

applied to other pirate cities on the African coast, but, strange to

say, our forefathers were content merely to "scotch the snake", without

making an end of it once and for all.

By 1640 the Turks were as bold and aggressive as ever. Three Turkish

men-of-war attacked the _Elizabeth_ off the Lizard and burned her, and

shortly afterwards landed at Penzance and carried off sixty men, women,

and children. The Deputy-Lieutenant of Cornwall reported that there were

about sixty Turkish pirates off the coast at this time. In 1645 it is

stated that they landed again at Fowey, and made slaves of 240 persons,

including some ladies.

Occasionally some of our merchant-ships were able to put up a successful

defence against the "Turks".

There were several instances of this in the Mediterranean, and here is a

shipmaster's report of how he did the like in the Channel in 1638: "W.

Nurry, of this town and county of Poole, Mariner and Master under God of

the good ship called the _Concord_ of Poole, burthen, 80 tons, with 6

guns, 12 men, and 2 boys, being about 6 or 7 leagues off Ushant, coming

from Rochelle laden with salt, was set upon by a man-of-war of Algiers

having 15 pieces of ordnance and full of men with the colour of

Holland displayed ... and then put out her Turkey colours and bade him

'amain'[28] for the King of Algiers, whereupon this examinant refusing

to strike their sails at his command, the Turk boarded his ship in his

quarter with great store of men, whereby they continued to fight board

by board together by the space of 3 hours, and the Turk being weary of

the battery took occasion to cut away this examinant's sprit-sail-yard

to clear himself away, and then stood to the northward ... that he

killed a great many of the Turks and beat them out of his top into the

sea with his muskets, and then surprised and brought into this harbour

of Poole, one Turk and three Christians, viz.: a Dutchman, a Frenchman

and a Biscayner." These three men made statements to the effect that the

Turkish ship was of 240 tons displacement, carried 15 guns and 124 men,

of whom 19 were Christians, 6 of them English, and 3 of them renegades,

and that thirty men-of-war from Algiers were "on the war-path" against

Spain, France, and England. The "Dutchman" was one Oliver Megy of

Lübeck, who admitted that he had been acting as pilot. Dutchman was

apparently then used indiscriminately for Dutch or German, as I believe

is still to a great extent the case at sea.

Then Sir John Pennington, in his _Journal_ on board H.M.S. _Vauntguard_,

in 1633, reports falling in with a "fly-boat", which informed him that

he had been "clapt aboard" by two Turks, one of eleven, the other of

seven guns, "betwixt the Gulfe and the Land's End, and hurt 9 or 10 of

his men very dangerously, but at last--God bee praysed--they got from

them and slew 4 of the Turkes--that entered them--outright and drove the

rest overboard". Again, when anchored in the _Swiftsure_, in Stokes Bay,

Pennington notes on 24th September, 1635: "There came in a freebooter,

and in his company a barke of Dartmouth laden with Poore John (dried

fish) which he tooke in the Channel from a Turks man-of-warr". In 1652,

just after the Republican form of government had been established in

England, the _Speaker_ frigate was dispatched to "Argier in Turkey" with

£30,000 to ransom English captives from slavery. But when the strong

hand of the Protector Cromwell had seized the helm of state there was no

more question of ransoms or presents to the barbarians of Algiers. He

dispatched the celebrated Admiral Blake with a dozen men-of-war to deal

with the Turks in the only effective way. Blake stood into the harbour

of Tunis, burned all the shipping there, and knocked their

fortifications to pieces, with the loss of only twenty-five killed and

forty wounded. He then appeared before Algiers, whither the story of his

victory at Tunis had preceded him, and had no difficulty in arranging

for the release of the whole of the British captives. More than this,

the "Turks" gave British waters a wide berth, and there were no more

complaints of their performances in the Narrow Seas during the

Protectorate.

But with the re-appearance of the Stuart kings at the Restoration the

old story of outrage and piracy began all over again. The Turks led off

with the sensational capture of Lord Inchiquin, the British Ambassador

to Portugal, who with his whole suite was captured off the Tagus and

publicly sold by auction in the market-place of Algiers. They would

never have dared to act in this manner in the days of Cromwell and

Blake; but they knew well enough that there was mighty little patriotism

about the "Merry Monarch" and his Court and Government. But even Charles

could not stomach the degrading arrangement which was made by the Earl

of Winchelsea, the British Ambassador to Turkey, who had been ordered to

call at Algiers on his way out to negotiate a new treaty with the Dey.

This nobleman actually granted the pirates liberty to search British

vessels and remove all foreigners and their goods. The Earl of Sandwich

and Sir John Lawson were sent with a fleet to Algiers to enforce the

removal of the obnoxious clause from the treaty. They bombarded the

town, but apparently not very effectively. The point was conceded by the

Dey, but as the Algerines, like the modern Huns, regarded all treaties

as "scraps of paper", to be torn up when opportunity offered, the

expedition was practically fruitless.

The Earl of Inchiquin and his son were eventually ransomed for £1500,

and Charles showed his weakness by indulging in the unfortunately

widespread habit of trying to conciliate the "Turks" by presents of arms

and ammunition, which everyone knew would be used against our own ships

and men.

From about this time forward the Turkish pirates seem to have generally

kept farther out in the Atlantic. They were especially on the look-out

for our Newfoundland ships. In 1677 six corsairs destroyed seventeen of

these, but one of the Turks was terribly mauled by a small English

frigate, and only escaped by the aid of a dark and stormy night. Our

watch-dogs were settling down to their work at last. The _Concord_

merchantman bound for America had a stiff fight with a Turkish squadron

in 1678, 120 leagues from the Land's End. One night they fell in with

"The Admiral of Algiers, a new Frigate of 48 guns, called the _Rose_,

and commanded by Canary, a Spanish renegade; the other two Virginiamen,

the one of Plymouth, the one of Dartmouth", evidently captured ships.

There was also a "barque of Ireland". "The Algerian hailed us in

English," says Thomas Grantham, master of the _Concord_, "'From whence?'

We answered, 'From London.' He told us he was the _Rupert_, frigate, and

commanded our boat on board, which our Captain refused, knowing it could

not be the _Rupert_. The Turk kept company with us all night, which gave

us some time to fit our ship, and get our boats out: when it was light

he put abroad his bloody flag[29] at main-topmast head, fires a gun,

and commands us to strike to the King of Algiers and to Admiral Canary.

[Illustration: THE FIGHT BETWEEN A MERCHANTMAN AND A TURKISH PIRATE

_Drawn by C. M. Padday_

"His sails, masts, and shrouds were all in a blaze. Then we cut loose,

and his mast went by the board."]

"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.

FOOTNOTES:

[25] Nicholas. _History British Navy._

[26] Massinger.

[27] From the Parish Books of Portishead, Somerset: Acct. of

Disbursements:--

"1722.--Gave 5 sailors taken by Pierates 10_d._

1723.--Gave 1 man that had been in turkey 1_d._

1726.--Gave 6 poor men tacking by the pirits 6_d._

1726.--Gave 7 poor sailors burnt 1_s._"

Mr. Henry Caer of Portishead, who has been good enough to send me these

extracts, thinks that "burnt" in the last entry means that their ship

had been burnt.

[28] i.e. "yield".

[29] This, the old Grecian signal to engage, in 1292 "signified certain

death and mortal strife to all sailors everywhere". In the sixteenth and

seventeenth centuries it was constantly used as an emblem of "Defiance"

and "No Quarter". The mutineers at the Nore hoisted it in 1797, as did

the Paris Communists in 1871.

[30] A species of grape-shot.

The British Navy Book · 第 8 / 21 章