KHEYR-ED-DIN BARBAROSSA
Uruj had arrogated to himself the title of King of Tlemcen, but with
his death this shadowy sovereignty came to an end, and the Spaniards
seized upon the province. This, however, did not avail them much, as
the Sultan of Fez sent against them an innumerable army, and they
in their turn were dispossessed. It was in the year 1518 that Uruj
fell beneath the pike of Garzia de Tineo, and now the first place in
the piratical hierarchy was taken by Kheyr-ed-Din. In this man the
genius of the statesman lay hidden beneath the outward semblance of
the bold and ruthless pirate; ever foremost in the fight, strong to
endure, swift to smite, he had by now long passed his novitiate, had
established an empire over the minds of men which was to endure until
the end of his unusually prolonged life. With a brain of ice and a
heart of fire, he looked out, serene and calm, upon the turbulent times
in which he lived, a monstrous egotist desiring nothing but his own
advancement, all his faculties bent upon securing more wealth and yet
more power.
He played a lone hand, for he brooked even less than did his truculent
brother any approach to an equality with himself among the men who
followed in his train. Absolute supremacy was his in the life which he
lived, but none knew better than he upon what an unstable basis his
power rested. He now called himself the King of Algiers, but still that
lean, sun-dried garrison held with desperate tenacity to the tower
of the redoubtable Navarro, and any moment a fresh Spanish relieving
force might be upon him and chase him forth even as Uruj had been
chased from Tlemcen. He saw that he must consolidate his power, must
for the present, at any rate, have some force at his back which would
provide that material and moral backing which was essential to his
schemes. Once before he had successfully approached the Grand Turk,
the Padishah, the head of the Mohammedan religion, and from him he had
received that which he had asked; on this former occasion, however, he
had not been in the same position as he now occupied.
The corsair must have meditated long and anxiously on the best way
in which to approach the autocrat of Constantinople; in the end he
probably hit upon the best solution of the problem by again sending
an ambassador with precise instructions as to the manner in which he
was to act. For this important service his choice fell upon one of his
captains, Hadj-Hossein by name, and to him he imparted all that he was
to say, and—what was almost as important—what he was not to say.
The duty of the ambassador was to magnify the importance of his master,
but to do so in such a manner that the Padishah was not to imagine
that a rival to his own greatness had arisen at Algiers. Selim was at
this time in Egypt, where he had just completed the conquest of the
Mamelukes, and thither did Hadj-Hossein repair. He laid at the feet of
the conqueror the respectful homage of the King of Algiers, who, he
assured Selim, desired nothing better than to become the vassal of the
Commander of the Faithful. Also, he informed him, that in the name of
Selim public prayer was offered in the mosques on Fridays, that his
image and superscription were struck on the coins, that in every manner
possible recognition was made of the fact that he, and he alone, was
the chosen of God upon earth. This manner of stating the situation was
both delicate and politic. A less wise man than Kheyr-ed-Din might have
assumed a note of equality from one Moslem potentate to another, but
the corsair was perfectly conscious of his limitations—he knew exactly
how the Grand Turk could be useful to him, and he was not going to mar
his chance by the display of an untimely arrogance.
Hadj-Hossein proved himself to be a tactful and successful ambassador.
The Sultan accepted the homage offered, and made many inquiries
concerning the war prosecuted by Hossein’s master against the enemies
of the true faith in the distant region of Algiers. His queries were
all answered with deep submission and the most subtle of flattery, much
of which latter was no doubt a perfectly honest expression of opinion.
As to the average Mohammedan of this period the Padishah was a being
set apart by Heaven to fulfil the decrees of the Prophet.
The ambassador, when he rejoined his master, must have been a proud
man, as so well had he fulfilled his mission that he carried back with
him to Algiers not only a gracious message, but the insignia of the
Sanjak, Scimitar Horse and Tambour, conferred upon that loyal Moslem
Kheyred-Din Barbarossa, who, in the words of the Padishah, “abandoning
a sterile independence, sought in all the bloody hazards of his life
nought but the glory of God and His Prophet” To us this hyperbole,
addressed to a pirate, seems merely ridiculous, but in those days
of fanaticism the beliefs of men, both Christians and Moslems, are
something which it is impossible for us to realise. On either side the
way of salvation was the path of conquest, and the man who was heretic
to the faith which you professed was rightly served if you could cut
him and his off from among the congregation.
It was well for the corsair to make as many friends as possible, as
among his enemies he counted all the kings of Christendom; and, looking
back on his career, it seems but little short of a miracle that he was
not crushed out of existence, not once but a hundred times. But, as has
been said already, the root of true statesmanship was in Kheyr-ed-Din.
He watched with eager eye the quarrels of the great kings on the
continent of Europe; he saw his life-long rival at sea, the greatest
of all Christian mariners, Andrea Doria, the Genoese admiral, transfer
his allegiance from the French King Francis I. to the Emperor Charles
V. He noted and took full advantage of the perpetual squabbles between
the Genoese and Venetian Republics, and all the time was in touch
with the Sea-wolves, who swarmed on the coasts of Africa, and lurked in
every creek and harbour of the Ionian Sea. “In all the bloody hazards
of his life,” to quote once again the words of the Grand Turk, “he
could, in the end, depend more or less on the corsairs, whether they
ostensibly sailed beneath his banner or whether they did not, as when
danger threatened what name was so potent as that of Barbarossa, which
his followers asserted to be worth ten thousand men, when shouted on
the day of battle!”
That which is most extraordinary in the life of Kheyr-ed-Din is the
perpetual danger and stress in which it was lived. Time and again the
heavy menacing clouds gathered around his head; strenuous and unceasing
were the efforts made by his enemies to destroy his power, to capture
the person of this militant robber who flung an insolent defiance to
the whole of Christendom. The storms gathered and broke with various
effects, which sometimes sent the corsair flying for his life a hunted
fugitive, as others saw him once more victorious. But no reverses had
the power to damp his ardour, or to render him less eager to arise,
like some ill-omened phoenix, from the ashes of defeat: to vex the
souls of those who held themselves to be the greatest men on earth.
It was shortly after the death of his brother Uruj that the storm arose
which bade fair to sweep, not only Kheyr-ed-Din but all the corsairs
of the North African coast, clean out of their strongholds, for the
Emperor Charles V., at this time young, eager, and enthusiastic,
gave orders for their destruction. These robbers troubled the peace
of Europe; they did more than this, they insulted the Majesty of the
Emperor, and Charles regarded their perpetual incursions in the light
of an affront to his personal dignity. The divinity which hedged such
a monarch as the grandson of “Los Reyes Cathòlicos,” Ferdinand and
Isabella, was a very real thing, and, if offended, was likely to find
concrete expression in the most vigorous form. Charles, much annoyed
at the necessity for chastising a band of robbers, determined that he
would make an end of them once and for all. To Don Hugo de Moncada, the
Viceroy of Sicily, to Don Perisan de Ribera at Bougie, to the Marquis
de Comares at Oran, orders were sent to prepare their forces for an
attack on Algiers.
There was no lack of good-will on the part of the Christian princes,
nobles, and governors. The Spanish veterans in Sicily were rusting
for want of employment, the levies on the African littoral welcomed
anything in the way of war as a distraction from the deadly monotony
of their lives. The soldier in these days who rested too long upon
his arms became in time practically useless for the purpose for which
he existed; but such rulers as Charles V. gave their fighting men but
small cause of complaint in the matter of want of employment. The Pope
sent his blessing and a contingent, and, to show how serious was the
purpose of the Emperor, who took the command in person, let us set
forth the total of the expedition which was to utterly destroy and
root out the corsairs and their leader:
FLEET. SAILING SHIP TRANSPORT.
Galleys of the Pope 4 The Frigate of Malta 1
” of Malta 4 Division of Spezzia 100
” of Sicily 4 ” of Fernando Gonzaga 150
” of Antony Doria 6 ” of Spain 200
” of Naples 5
” of Monaco 2
” of Marquis of Terra Nova 2
” of Vicome de Cigala 2
” of Fernando de Gonzaga 7
” of Spain 15
” of Andrea Doria 14
———
Total Galleys 65 Total Transports 451
===
Add Transports 451
———
Total Fleet 516
===
We now come to the military side of the expedition, which consisted of:
The Household of the Emperor 200
Noblesse 150
Knights of Malta 150
Servants 400
German Corps 6,000
Italians 5,000
Spanish from Naples and Sicily 6,000
Soldiers from Spain 400
Adventurers 3,000
Italian Cavalry 1,000
Spanish Cavalry from Sicily 400
Light Cavalry 700
——————
Total Army 23,900
======
We next come to the Armament of the Fleet:
Soldiers of the Galleys (50 in each) 3,250
Galley Slaves (average 70 in each) 4,500
” ” The Frigate of Malta 80
540 sailing ships of all sorts, mostly
small (at an average of 10 each) 4,500
——————
Total _Personnel_ of the Fleet 12,330
Add Army 28,900
——————
Total _Personnel_ of the Expedition. 36,230 men.
======
It was late autumn when the expedition at last set sail, and the
imperious temper of Charles was such that he refused to be governed by
the advice of the seasoned mariners, such as Andrea and Antony Doria,
and others who dreaded the effect of the gales which the armada was
likely to encounter on the coast of Africa. The Emperor was not to be
gainsaid, and the fleet set sail. They arrived, says Sandoval, “en el
dia de San Hieronymo,” Saint Bartholomew’s day; and there then arose
such a storm as the Mediterranean seldom sees. Some of the army had
landed, some were still afloat, the corsairs accounted for the luckless
soldiers ashore, the elements destroyed many left in the ships: 26
ships and 4,000 men were lost.
Bitterly mortified, Charles, who had personally displayed valour and
conduct of unusual distinction in this disastrous expedition, returned
to Europe to turn his attention to his everlasting quarrels with the
King of France. Meanwhile Don Hugo de Moncada had escaped with a
remnant of his forces to Iviza, in the Balearics, where he wintered,
and where his men mutinied because he was unable to pay them.
As there was depression almost amounting to despair in the camps of
Christendom, so was there concurrently the widest rejoicing in the
tents and on board of the galleys which flew the Moslem flag. What
mattered it that it was the elements which had saved Kheyr-ed-Din
from annihilation? was it not a cause the more for jubilation, as had
not the Prophet of God himself come to the assistance of those who
were upholding his holy standard? Were not his favours made manifest
in that he had sent, to lead his votaries to victory, such an one as
Kbeyr-ed-Din Barbarossa?
Pope and Emperor, King, Duke, and Viceroy had tried conclusions with
the pirates, and their fleet and army had melted away as the mists melt
in the hot sunshine on the Mediterranean; truly were the descendants of
the dispossessed Moors of Còdoba and Granada taking a terrible revenge
on those by whom they had been expropriated.
Barbarossa was never one to let the grass grow under his feet; he had
the Christians on the run, and he intended to take full advantage
of this pleasing circumstance. Accordingly he despatched a trusted
lieutenant, one Hassan, with instructions to harass the coast of
Valentia, to ravage with fire and sword all those unfortunate towns and
villages which he could reach. This corsair entered the Rio de Ampasta
and destroyed all before him, the inhabitants fleeing as the news was
carried by escaped fugitives and by the red glare of the villages
flaming to heaven in the night. Satiated with blood, laden with spoil,
and burdened with many wretched captives, Hassan put to sea once more
in triumph.
It may here be mentioned how terrible was the damage wrought by the
piratical fraternity in the Mediterranean, and the manner in which
it has been brought to light in somewhat remarkable fashion quite
recently. Since the French occupation of Tunis it was charged against
them that they had taken away from the natives of the country those
fertile lands which lay upon the shores of the sea, and had given them
to French subjects. The facts of the case were that for centuries these
lands had been entirely out of cultivation, the reason being that,
until the complete suppression of piracy in the Mediterranean took
place, none dared to dwell within raiding distance of the sea for fear
of being carried off into slavery.
But to return to Hassan. That warrior, having cleared the Spanish
coast, got separated from three of his consorts during the night.
The next day, at dawn, he sighted a Spanish sailing-vessel, which he
thought to make an easy prize. The wind was light, and the galleys—that
is to say, the one on which Hassan was aboard and his remaining
consort—were soon churning up the waters in pursuit as fast as their
oars could carry them. Hassan reckoned on an easy capture, as he made
certain she was but a peaceful trader with some score or so of throats
to cut. He was, however, badly out of his reckoning, as on board of her
was a veteran company of Spanish infantry, stark fighters to a man, who
feared no odds, and who were skilfully commanded by Captain Robeira,
grown grey in the Moorish wars. With bloodcurdling yells the galleys
swept alongside with the fighting men massed on the high poops and
forecastles of their vessels. Behind the high bulwarks of the “round
ship” (as the sailing craft of the day were denominated to distinguish
them from the long ships, or galleys) crouched the Spaniards, their
muskets in their hands. Captain Robeira had them perfectly in hand, and
not a piece was discharged until the beaks of the galleys crashed into
her sides.
Robeira then gave the order to fire, and at the short range into packed
masses of men the volley did terrible execution. Completely surprised,
the corsairs attempted to board, but were repulsed and driven back
with more slaughter. His men becoming demoralised, Hassan withdrew
amidst the ferocious taunts of the Spaniards, who had escaped almost
unscathed. Sore and angry, the corsairs continued their voyage for
another three days, at the expiration of which they arrived at Algiers.
Hassan, who had acquired quite a considerable booty, expected a warm
reception; this he received, but hardly in the way that he expected.
He told his tale to Kheyr-ed-Din, which that commander received in
frowning silence; when he had finished the storm burst.
“O miserable coward! dost thou dare to stand in my presence and to
confess that thou hast been whipped like a dog by those sons of burnt
fathers, the Spaniards?”
The miserable Hassan attempted to justify himself by reference to the
booty which he had obtained and the number of captives with which he
had returned; but this, far from assuaging the wrath of Barbarossa,
only made it worse.
“Dastard and slave! thou boastest that, thou hast destroyed defenceless
villages and brought back many captives, but that shall avail thee
nothing. No profit shalt thou derive from that. Let the captives be
brought before me.”
This was done, and to the horror even of those hardened men of blood
who followed in the train of Barbarossa, they were all executed. Even
this wholesale massacre did not assuage the wrath of the corsair.
Standing and surveying the weltering shambles which tainted the air,
he pulled ferociously at his red beard, and commanded that they should
whip Hassan till the blood ran; when this was done thoroughly and
to the satisfaction of the despot, he gave orders that he should be
chained and thrust into the prison of the fortress.
Terror stalked abroad in Algiers. No man knew when his turn might
come after this awful example of what it meant to incur the wrath of
Barbarossa. The corsair gave orders for the execution of Venalcadi,
who, it will be remembered, was with Uruj when that warrior came by his
death; but Venalcadi was popular among the pirates, and they connived
at his escape.
For so cool and politic a man as Kheyr-ed-Din this outburst is wholly
inexplicable. Judged by our standards, the flogging of Hassan was not
only brutal but silly, as raising up to himself enemies of the most
bitter description in the midst of his own followers; and yet cruelty
was so engrained in this man that he never forewent his revenge. It is
a standing miracle that he escaped assassination in the age in which
he lived, and the only explanation would appear to be that men were too
much afraid of him to make the attempt.
The immediate result of the flogging of Hassan and the attempted murder
of Venalcadi was that the latter collected a following and made war
upon Kheyr-ed-Din, who, with incredible folly, then released Hassan,
and sent him with five hundred men to fight against Venalcadi. The
result was what might have been anticipated: Hassan joined forces with
Venalcadi, and together they attacked the tyrant and drove him out of
his stronghold.
Kheyr-ed-Din had the one supreme merit of never knowing when he was
beaten. Driven from the shore, there was for him always the sea to
which to retire; so on this occasion he embarked his family and such
of his riches as were portable, and took to the sea once more. “Yendo
a buscar nuevos asientos y nuevos amigos” (seeking a new home and new
friends), says Sandoval.
It was well for the corsairs that the Christians had selected the
previous year for their attack, as, had they fallen upon them when
Barbarossa was no longer in power at Algiers and the pirates were
fighting among themselves, the latter would have been wiped out of
existence. It was ill fighting with Kheyr-ed-Din, whether you professed
the religion of Christ or that of Mahomet, and this the revolting
corsairs were very soon to discover. Barbarossa sailed away from
Algiers a hunted fugitive, only to return again as a conqueror.
Eastward the dispossessed ruler of Algiers took his course, and
very soon discovered that which he sought—allies to assist him
against the revolted Venalcadi and the recalcitrant Hassan. Lurking
in the neighbourhood of Bizerta, he discovered El Judeo (the Jew),
Cachidiablo (Hunt the Devil), Salaerrez, Tabas, and other corsairs,
who collectively composed a formidable force. These were all old
acquaintances and some old followers of Kheyr-ed-Din, and to them did
he relate the piteous tale of the cowardice of Venalcadi, whom he
accused of having deserted his brother Uruj in his direst necessity,
thereby causing his death; the abominable conduct of Hassan, who had
turned and bitten the hand that fed him. With tears in his eyes did
this accomplished actor reluctantly reveal the base ingratitude of
which he had been the recipient; so much did he contrive to work upon
the feelings of his auditors that they one and all vowed to stand by
him, and to replace him as ruler of Algiers, from which he had been
thrust by men whose shameful treachery was only equalled by their
ingratitude.
Forty sail in strength, they set out to avenge the wrongs of the gentle
and long-suffering Kheyr-ed-Din, that master of craft in every sense
of the word. Reaching Algiers, they disembarked artillery and stores
and began an attack in form; but Venalcadi, whose forces were equal,
in fact slightly superior, to those of his antagonists, made a sally,
and battle was joined in the open. A most sanguinary combat ensued,
in which the forces of Kheyr-ed-Din were decidedly worsted. For a
considerable period his fate hung in the balance. Then occurred one
of those singular and remarkable things only possible in such an age
of anarchy and bloodshed. Barbarossa had in his train sixty Spanish
soldiers captured by him from the force of Don Hugo de Moncada. Well
did the corsair know their value: there were no finer fighting men in
all the Christian armies. Hastily summoning them, he promised them
their freedom if they would now throw in their lot with him and assist
in the downfall of Venalcadi.
The offer was no sooner made than accepted, and the Spanish veterans,
fresh and unwearied, threw themselves into the heart of the fray.
Shoulder to shoulder and blade to blade in their disciplined valour,
they broke through all opposition; they fought for liberty as well as
life, to exchange the noisome confinement of the piratical galley for
the free air of their homes and their country. Soon the soldiers of
Venalcadi turned and fled back to the city; the day was once again with
Kheyr-ed-Din. For four days longer did Algiers hold out, and then a
traitor betrayed Venalcadi into the hands of his enemies. Instantly his
head was struck off, placed on a pole, and paraded in full sight of the
garrison, who were promised their lives on condition of surrender.
The city opened its gates once more, and Barbarossa entered in triumph.
The corsair was as good as his word to his Spanish captives, and
restored to them their liberty. He went even further, and was liberal
in his _largesse_ to those who had fought so well for him. If he can
be credited with such an emotion as gratitude, he must have felt it
for Moncada’s stout infantrymen, as, had it not been for them, it
would have been his head and not that of Venalcadi which would have
decorated the pole. The Spaniards departed to their own country—that is
to say, such of them as desired to do so; but one Hamet, a Biscayan,
declared that life was so intolerable for a common man such as he in
his own country that he desired to throw in his lot with Barbarossa.
Thirty-nine others followed his example, abjuring the Christian faith
and becoming renegadoes.
Those of the garrison left alive were glad enough to return once more
to their allegiance to their former master. The episode of the mutiny
of Venalcadi and Hassan was a lesson not only to them: the fame of it
spread far and wide throughout the Mediterranean. Who now could be
found to combat Barbarossa? and all along the coasts of the tideless
sea echo shudderingly answered—Who?
With the new accession to his strength Kheyred-Din had no difficulty in
making himself master of Tunis, and he sent Cachidiablo with seventeen
galleys to harry once more the coast of Spain.