Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Pirate City: An Algerine Tale by R. M. Ballantyne (digital book reader .txt) 📖
- Author: R. M. Ballantyne
Book online «The Pirate City: An Algerine Tale by R. M. Ballantyne (digital book reader .txt) 📖». Author R. M. Ballantyne
Their appearance, however, signified little, for by that time the whole town was in an uproar of active preparation and excitement.
Men of various colours—black, brown, and yellow, with every intermediate shade, and in many different garbs—were hastening to the ramparts, while anxious women of the lower orders, and frightened children, were rushing to and fro, either engaged in some duties connected with the defence, or simply relieving their feelings by violent action: while bodies of janissaries were hastening to their various stations, or came trooping in from all the outposts of the surrounding country.
In the midst of such confusion our tall Arab attracted no notice. He passed through the streets unmolested, and out at the Bab-el-Oued gate unchallenged.
It was little more than daybreak at the time, for Arabs are early risers at all times, and on the present occasion they had reason to be earlier than usual.
The moment our tar caught sight of the sea, his heart gave a wild bound of exultation, for on the horizon appeared a few white specks, like sea-mews, which he now knew to be the British fleet.
Without any definite intention as to what he meant to do, Flaggan sped along the road leading to his cave at Point Pescade, his chief feeling being a strong desire to get out of the sight of natives, that he might meditate alone on his future movements, which he felt must be prompt and decisive.
Before quite reaching his destination fortune favoured him. Coming round a rocky point of the coast, he observed a boat with one man in it rowing close inshore.
“That’ll do,” whispered Ted to himself, as he went behind a rock and hastily smeared his face and limbs with earth.
When the boat approached he went to the edge of the sea and made signs to the fisherman, for such he was, to approach, at the same time pretending to take something out of a wallet at his side, to which he pointed with eager interest, as though he had something important to say about it.
The man lay on his oars a moment, and then pulled in, but cautiously, for he suspected the stranger. When within about four or five yards of the rocks the man again stopped.
“Arrah come on, won’t ’ee?” exclaimed the impatient Irishman, gesticulating wildly.
The fisherman had evidently seen and heard enough, for he at once dipped his oars with the intention of rowing off, when Ted made a sudden spring, and went with a heavy plunge into the water within a yard of the boat, which was a very small one.
Unfortunately for the fisherman, instead of pulling away he raised an oar with the intention of striking Flaggan when he should rise. It was a fatal mistake. He did indeed strike him, and on the head too; but that was the most invulnerable part of the Irishman’s body. Ted grasped the oar, caught the gunwale of the boat, and in a moment overturned it and its occupant on his shoulders.
Diving clear, he rose and watched for his adversary. The man also rose a moment later, and Ted, who was a splendid swimmer, went at him like a small steamboat, caught him by the neck, and half throttled him; then dragging him ashore, untwisted his turban, and therewith tied his arms and legs fast, after which he carried him into a small cave near at hand, and left him to his meditations.
This accomplished, he returned to the little boat, swam off and righted her, baled her out, shipped the oars, and rowed straight out to sea.
When the British fleet bore down on Algiers on the morning of the 27th of August 1816, there was barely sufficient wind to carry it within sight of the town. While lying becalmed in the Queen Charlotte, Lord Exmouth sent in a boat and a flag of truce with the terms dictated by England, and a demand for the immediate release of the consul and the officers and men belonging to the Prometheus.
About the same time a small boat was observed by those on board the fleet to put off from the shore to the northward, which, pulling right across the town, made straight for the flag-ship. It was manned by a solitary rower, who, as he drew near, was recognised by his costume to be an Arab.
A four-oared boat shot out from the mole-head as if to intercept this solitary rower, and a short but inspiriting chase ensued. It was seen that at first the Arab paid no attention whatever to the boat in pursuit, but kept up the slow regular stroke of one who felt quite unconcerned and at his ease. The boat in chase overhauled it fast, and when within shout a gunshot the Turk in the stern stood up and hailed the Arab in stern, angry tones, but no reply was vouchsafed. Exasperated beyond measure, the Turk levelled a pistol at the Arab and fired, but missed his aim, and was driven almost frantic with rage on observing that the insolent Arab dropped his oar for an instant, and kissed his hand to the ball as it skipped past.
Immediately after the Turk was heard to shout an order to his men, who thereupon redoubled their efforts to overtake the chase. At the same instant the Arab was observed to bend well forward, and almost double the length of his stroke, so that the little craft, which had hitherto skimmed over the calm sea, now began to leap, as it were, in successive bounds.
“I say, Bill, don’t he pull well?” exclaimed one of the tars on board the Queen Charlotte.
“Splendiferous!” replied Bill, in great admiration; “an’ I do believe that he’s creepin’ away from the Turk.”
This was true; the Arab was steadily increasing the distance between himself and his pursuers, until at last the latter gave up the chase, a consummation which was greeted by some of the excitable spirits in the Queen Charlotte with an irresistible though subdued cheer.
In a short time the Arab rowed alongside the flag-ship.
“Och! Ally ma boo hookum foldimaronky bang,” said the Arab, looking up.
“Well, now,” exclaimed a surprised Irish tar on board to those near him, “it’s often. I’ve heard that the Arabs had the brogue of Owld Ireland, though the lingo don’t square exactly.”
“Ah then, brother, that’s ’cause ye don’t onderstand it. Sure ye might heave us a rope,” replied the Arab with a grin.
A roar of laughter greeted this speech, and in another minute Ted Flaggan stood bowing modestly on the quarter-deck of the flag-ship.
While the Admiral was closeted with this unexpected visitor—whose name and deeds, owing to some strange oversight, have been omitted from history,—a light breeze sprang up, which enabled the fleet to stand into the bay and lay-to about a mile from the town.
Meanwhile, Ted Flaggan, having given the Admiral all the information he possessed as to the condition of the city and its defences, was sent forward to take part in the expected fight, or go below out of harm’s way, as suited him best. He immediately attached himself, as a supernumerary, to one of the upper-deck guns, and, while giving his amused comrades graphic accounts of life in the pirate city, obtained from them in return a full account of the fleet, and the intentions of the Admiral, as far as these were known. He found his comrades very intelligent, and full of enthusiasm about their leader, whom one of the tars styled “one of the wery best Admirals that England ever owned arter Lord Nelson!”
Their admiration was well deserved.
We have already said that the Admiral had commissioned his fleet and got it into excellent working condition in what was deemed a miraculously short space of time. This, however, was accomplished by no miraculous means, but by the simple force of indomitable energy, rightly and perseveringly applied.
Knowing that the time was short, and that a fleet newly manned could not work well without a great deal of training, he made up for the shortness of time by not allowing a single moment of it to be lost, frittered away, or misapplied. Besides giving the men the usual and proper training while in port preparing to sail, he made several arrangements whereby he continued the training most effectively on the voyage out. Of course it was carried on daily. On Tuesdays and Fridays the ships were cleared for action, and six broadsides were fired, but this was only what may be styled parade practice. Feeling that actual work could only be done well by men of actual experience, he had a twelve-pounder gun placed on the after part of the Queen Charlotte’s quarter-deck, and hung a small target, with a very small bull’s-eye, at the end of the fore-topmast studding-sail boom, at which all the captains of guns practised every day, so that they acquired not only the habit of laying and working their guns according to rule, but also the art of laying them to good purpose, and many of them became crack shots before they came within sight of the enemy.
The crews were thus kept active and elated; in good health, and filled with respect for the wisdom and knowledge of those in command, as well as with confidence in their own capacity to obey orders with promptitude, unity of action, and vigorous effect.
Half the battles of life, moral as well as physical, are gained by such confidence, founded on experience,—the other half are lost for want of it!
The fleet comprised five line-of-battle ships, two of which were three-deckers; three heavy and two smaller frigates, besides small craft. At Gibraltar they fell in with a Dutch squadron, consisting of five small frigates and a corvette, under Vice-Admiral the Baron Van de Capellen, who asked and obtained leave to co-operate.
There were the Queen Charlotte—110 guns—the flag-ship of Admiral Lord Exmouth, G.C.B., under Captain James Brisbane, C.B.; Impregnable, 98—under Rear-Admiral Milne, who was second in command, and Captain Edward Brace, C.B.; Superb, 74—Captain Charles Elkins; Minden, 74—Captain William Paterson; Albion, 74—Captain John Coode. Of frigates, there were the Leander, 50 guns; Severn, 40; Glasgow, 40; Granicus, 36; and Hebrus, 36. These, with five gun-brigs and four bomb-vessels, named respectively, and not inappropriately, Beelzebub, Fury, Hecla, and Infernal, constituted the British fleet.
The Dutch Admiral hoisted his flag in the Melampus frigate of 44 guns. The Frederica, of same size, was commanded by Captain Van der Straten. The other four vessels were smaller. There were, besides, a flotilla of fifty-five small craft, including mortar and gun-boats, rocket flats, yawls, etcetera.
Opposed to this, which the reader will bear in remembrance was deemed a small fleet, there were on the walls and batteries of Algiers about 500 guns of all sizes and sorts, behind which were inexhaustible supplies of ammunition, and many thousands of as thorough-going rascals as ever defied the strength and tried the patience of the civilised world!
Being thoroughly acquainted with the position and strength of the batteries of the city, Lord Exmouth had arranged the plan of attack, and assigned to each ship and boat its particular station some days before arriving. The addition of the Dutch fleet modified but did not materially alter that plan. Each individual, therefore, from Lord Exmouth to the smallest powder-monkey, was as well primed for action as were the guns of the fleet when the flag of truce returned.
It had been met outside the mole about eleven AM by the captain of the port, and an answer was promised in two hours.
But these pirates had never been celebrated for keeping their word. One o’clock passed, but no answer was forthcoming. Patient and long-suffering as usual—and as he always is—the British Lion delayed a full hour.
“Ah, boys, if we wait till we git a peaceful answer from them villains, we’ll wait till doomsday, so
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