The Algerine Corsairs

From Charles Ellms’ The Pirate’s Own Book

There are four gates; one opening on the mole, which is thence called the marine gate, one near the citadel, which is termed the new gate; and the other two, at the north and south sides of the city, with the principal street running between them. All these gates are strongly fortified, and outside the three land gates run the remains of a ditch, which once surrounded the city, but is now filled up except at these points. The streets of Algiers are all crooked, and all narrow. The best are scarcely twelve feet in breadth, and even half of this is occupied by the projections of the shops, or the props placed to support the first stories of the houses, which are generally made to advance beyond the lower, insomuch that in many places a laden mule can scarcely pass.

Of public buildings, the most remarkable is the Cassaubah, or citadel. It is a huge, heavy looking brick building, of a square shape, surrounded by high and massive walls, and defended by fifty pieces of cannon, and some mortars, so placed as equally to awe the city and country. The apartments set apart for the habitation of the Dey and the ladies of his harem are described as extremely magnificent, abundantly supplied with marble pillars, fountains, mirrors, carpets, ottomans, and cushions. There are also others of note: the armory, furnished with weapons of every kind; the treasury, containing not only a profusion of the precious metals but also diamonds, pearls, rubies, and other precious stones of great value; and lastly, the store rooms of immense extent, piled up with the richest silk stuffs, velvets, brocades, together with wool, wax, sugar, iron, lead, and sabre-blades — for the Dey was not only the first robber but the first merchant in his own dominions.

Next to the Cassaubah, the mole with the marine forts presented the handsomest and most imposing pile of buildings. The mole is no less than one thousand three hundred feet in length, forming a beautiful terrace walk, supported by arches, beneath which lay splendid magazines which the French found filled with spars, hemp, cordage, cables, and all manner of marine stores. The Bagnios were the buildings in which Europeans for a long time felt the most interest, inasmuch as it was in these that the Christian slaves taken by the corsairs were confined.

We shall only trace these pirates back to about the year 1500, when Selim, king of Algiers, being invaded by the Spaniards, at last entreated the assistance of the famous corsair, Oruj Reis, better known by his European name, Barbarossa, composed of two Italian words, signifying red beard. Nothing could be more agreeable than the invitation to this ambitious robber. Accordingly, attended by five thousand picked men, he entered Algiers, made himself master of the town, assassinated Selim, and had himself proclaimed king in his stead; and thus was established that nest of pirates, fresh swarms from which never ceased to annoy Christian commerce and enslave Christian mariners, until its final destruction by the French expedition in 1830.

In a piratical career of many centuries, the countless thousands who have been taken, enslaved, and perished in bondage by these monsters should long ago have drawn upon them the united vengeance of all Christendom. Many a youth of family and fortune, of delicate constitution, had been captured and sold in the slave market. His labor through the long hot days would be to cleanse out the foul bed of some large empty reservoir, or to labor drawing huge blocks of stone to build the mole, or in building and repairing the fortifications. The only food was a scanty supply of black bread, and occasionally a few decayed olives, or sheep which had died from some disorder. At night they were crowded into the Bagnio, to sleep on a little filthy straw, amidst the most noisome stenches. Their limbs in chains, and often receiving the lash.

A Spanish lady, the wife of an officer, with her son, a youth of fourteen, and her daughter, six years old, were taken in a Spanish vessel by the Algerines. The barbarians treated her and both her children with the greatest inhumanity. They kept them many days at sea on hard and scanty fare, and in this state brought them to Algiers. A few months after, the Spanish peace of 1784 being concluded, a ransom was accepted by the Algerines for this suffering family, and they were set at liberty.

These pirates in old times extended their depredations into the Atlantic as far as the British Channel. They swarmed in the Mediterranean, not only belonging to Algiers, but Tunis, and other ports on the coast of Barbary, making descents on the coasts of those countries which border on the Mediterranean, pillaging the villages and carrying off the inhabitants into slavery. Upon the slaves being landed at Algiers they were marched to the Dey’s palace, when he selected the number which according to law belonged to him; and the rest were sold in the slave market to the highest bidder.

William Oakley’s Escape — 1644

The most desperate attempts were sometimes made to effect an escape from these ruthless monsters, which occasionally succeeded. In 1644 William Oakley and four companions escaped from Algiers in a most miraculous manner, in a canvas boat. There was at this time an English clergyman, Mr. Sprat, in captivity, and the wretched slaves had the privilege of meeting in a cellar, where he would pray with them. Oakley had got into the good graces of his master, and was allowed his time by giving his master two dollars a month. He conceived the project of making a canvas boat. He says: “I now first opened my design to my comrades, informing them, that I had contrived the model of a boat, which, being formed in pieces, and afterwards put together, might be the means of our deliverance. They greedily grasped at the prospect; but cooler reflection pointed out difficulties innumerable.”

We began our work in the cellar which had served for our devotions, though it was not the sanctity of the place, but its privacy, that induced us to this selection. We first provided a piece of wood, twelve feet long, cut in two and jointed in the middle. We had, in the formation of an external covering, to avoid hammering and nailing, which would have made such a noise in the cellar as to attract the notice of the Algerines, who are insufferably suspicious about their wives and slaves. Therefore, we provided as much canvas as would cover the boat twice over, and as much pitch, tar and tallow as would make it a kind of tarpaulin. We stopped up all chinks and crevices, that the fumes of these substances might not betray us. Before long the smell of the melting materials overcame me, and obliged me to go into the streets gasping for breath, where meeting with the cool air, I swooned away, and broke my face in the fall. In this way we finished the whole, and then carried it to my shop, which was about a furlong distant.

Everything was fitted in the cellar, the timbers to the keel, the canvas to the timbers, and the seats to the whole, and then all were taken to pieces again. As I was carrying a piece of canvas which we had bought for a sail, I looked back, and discovered the same spy, who had formerly given us much trouble, following behind. Therefore, to delude him, I took the canvas and spread it before his face on the top of a rock to dry; he staid his own time, and then marched off. We also procured a small quantity of provisions, and two goat skins full of fresh water. In the meantime, I paid my patron my wonted visits, kept up a fair correspondence, and duly gave him his demands; while I secretly turned all my goods to ready money as fast as I could, and putting it into a trunk with a false bottom, I committed it to the charge of Mr. Sprat, who faithfully preserved it for me.

The place which we chose for joining the boat together was a hill about half a mile from the city. When the pieces were united, and the canvas drawn on, four of our number carried the boat down to the sea, where, stripping ourselves naked, and putting our clothes within, we carried it as far as we could wade. But we soon discovered that our calculations of lading were erroneous; for no sooner had we embarked, than the water came in over the sides, and she was like to sink. At last one went ashore, and she held her head stoutly, and seemed sufficiently capable of our voyage. Taking a solemn farewell of our two companions left behind, we launched out on the 30th of June 1644, a night ever to be remembered. Our company consisted of John Anthony, William Adams, John Jephs, John the carpenter, and myself. We now put to sea, without helm, tackle, or compass. Four of us continually labored at the oars; the employment of the fifth was baling out the water that leaked through the canvas.

On all occasions we found our want of foresight, for now the bread which had lain soaking in the salt water was quite spoiled, and the tanned skins imparted a nauseous quality to the fresh water. Pale famine began to stare us in the face. For some time the wind was right against us; our labor was incessant, for although much rowing did not carry us forward, still cessation of it drove us back; and the season was raging hot. One of our number had a pocket dial, which supplied the place of a compass; by its aid we steered our course by day, while the stars served as a guide by night. On the fifth day we were at the brink of despair.

While we lay hulling up and down, we discovered a tortoise, not far from us, asleep in the sea. Had the great Drake discovered the Spanish plate fleet, he could not have been more rejoiced. Once again we bethought ourselves of our oars, and silently rowing to our prey, took it into the boat in great triumph. Having cut off its head, and let it bleed in a vessel, we drank the blood, ate the liver, and sucked the flesh. Our strength and spirits were wonderfully refreshed, and our work was vigorously renewed. After further exertion, we were at last fully satisfied that we saw land. Now, like distracted persons, we all leapt into the sea to cool our parched bodies, never considering that we might become a ready prey to the sharks.

The island discovered was Majorca; we resolved to make for it. The whole of that night we rowed very hard, and also the next, being the sixth from our putting to sea. About ten at night we came under the land, but it consisted of rocks so steep and craggy that we could not climb up. Creeping gently along the coast, we at last found a suitable place to receive our weather-beaten boat. We found fresh water, and eventually made our way to the suburbs of Majorca, where the singularity of our attire attracted a crowd of enquirers. We gave a circumstantial account of our deliverance, and the people supplied us with food, wine, and strong waters. The viceroy, having heard the account of our escape and dangers, ordered us to be maintained at his expense until we should obtain a passage to our own country. From Majorca they proceeded to Cadiz, and from thence to England, which they reached in safety.

European Expeditions Against Algiers

Several expeditions at different periods were fitted out by different European nations to chastise the pirates. The Emperor, Charles V., in the plenitude of his power, sailed with a formidable armament in the year 1541, and effected a landing. Without doubt he would have taken the city, if a terrible storm had not risen, which destroyed a great part of his fleet and obliged him to re-embark with his shattered forces. The exultation of the Algerines was unbounded. Prisoners had been taken in such abundance that to show their worthlessness, they were publicly sold in the market-place at Algiers, at an onion a head.

For nearly a century after this, little occurs of note in Algerine history except a constant system of piracy. In 1655 the British Admiral Blake gave them a drubbing. The French were the next to attack these common enemies of Europe. Admiral Duguesne commanded the expedition, and after bombarding the place a short time, the Dey himself soon began to be terrified at the destruction these new engines of naval war made, when an unfavorable wind compelled the fleet to make all sail for Toulon. Relieved from the terror of immediate destruction, the Algerines returned to their old ways. The Dey also recovered, not only his courage, but his humor; for learning what a large sum the late expedition against his city had cost, he sent to say, “that if Louis would give him half the money, he would undertake to burn the whole city to please him.”

The French accordingly sent a new expedition under the same officers the next year. Duguesne again sailed, and threw such volleys of bombs into the city that in less than three days the greatest part of it was reduced to ashes. Rendered desperate by the carnage around him, the new Dey ordered all the French captives to be cruelly murdered, and binding Father Vacher, the French Resident, hand and foot, had him tied to a mortar and fired off like a bomb against the French fleet. This wanton piece of atrocity so exasperated Duguesne that, laying his fleet as near land as possible, he continued his cannonade until he had destroyed all their shipping, fortifications, and buildings. Upon the British consuls making a complaint to the Dey on occasion of one of his corsairs having captured a vessel, he openly replied, “It is all very true, but what would you have? the Algerines are a company of rogues, and I am their captain.”

To such people force was the argument; and in 1700 Capt. Beach, falling in with seven of their frigates, attacked them, drove them on shore, and burnt them. But a new power was destined to spring up, from which these pirates were to receive their first serious check; that power was the United States of America. In 1792 the corsairs, in a single cruise, swept off ten American vessels, and sent their crews to the Bagnio, so that there were one hundred and fifteen in slavery.

Negotiations were at once set on foot; the Dey’s demands had of course risen in proportion to the number of his prisoners, and the Americans had not only to pay ransom at a high rate, with presents, marine stores, and yearly tribute, but to build and present to the Dey, as a propitiatory offering, a thirty-six gun frigate; so that the whole expenses fell little short of a million of dollars, in return for which they obtained liberty for their captives, protection for their merchant vessels, and the right of free trade with Algiers. The treaty was signed September 5th, 1795.

In 1812, however, the Dey, finding his funds at a low ebb, determined on trying them with a new war. Peace having been concluded with England, President Madison, in 1815, despatched an American squadron, under commodores Bainbridge and Decatur, with Mr. Shaler as envoy, to demand full satisfaction for all injuries done to American subjects, the immediate release of such as were captives, the restitution of their property, and to negotiate a treaty on terms of perfect equality, no proposal of tribute being at all admissible. The squadron reached its destination early in June, and, having captured an Algerine frigate and brig-of-war, suddenly appeared before Algiers. Confounded by the sudden and entirely unexpected appearance of this force, the Algerines agreed, on the 30th of June, to the proposals of a treaty, almost without discussion.

Lord Exmouth’s Bombardment — 1816

At Bona, a few miles to the east of Algiers, was an establishment for carrying on a coral fishery, under the protection of the British flag. On the 23d of May, the feast of Ascension, a band of infantry and cavalry appeared without warning, opened a fire upon the unfortunate fishermen, massacred almost the whole of them, then seized the English flags, tore them in pieces, and trampling them under foot, dragged them along the ground in triumph. No sooner had the account of this atrocious slaughter reached England, than all ranks seemed inflamed with a desire that a great and signal punishment should be taken on this barbarian prince. An expedition, therefore, was fitted out at Portsmouth, and the command intrusted to Lord Exmouth, who finally sailed July 28th with a fleet well supplied with Congreve rockets and Shrapnell shells. August 9, the fleet anchored at Gibraltar, and was there joined by the Dutch admiral, Van Cappillen, commanding five frigates and a corvette.

He arrived off Algiers on the morning of the 27th of August, and sent in his interpreter with a letter for the Dey, demanding reparation. Meantime, a light breeze sprung up, and the fleet advanced into the bay. No sooner had his interpreter returned than Lord Exmouth directed the head of the Queen Charlotte towards shore, and, to the utter amazement of the Algerines, ran across all the batteries without firing or receiving a single shot, until he brought up within eighty yards of the south end of the mole, and had the pleasure of seeing all the rest of the fleet taking up their assigned stations with the same precision and regularity.

Up to this moment not a shot had been fired, and the batteries were all crowded with spectators, gazing in astonishment at the quiet and regularity which prevailed through all the British ships. Lord Exmouth stood on the quarter-deck, repeatedly waving his hat as a warning to the multitudes assembled on the mole to retire, but his signal was unheeded. At a quarter before three in the afternoon the first gun was fired from the eastern battery. Then Lord Exmouth, having seen only the smoke of the gun before the sound reached him, said with great alacrity, “That will do; fire my fine fellows!” — and before his lordship had finished these words, their broadside was given with great cheering. This first fire was so terrible that they say more than five hundred persons were killed and wounded by it.

The battle continued to rage furiously, and the havoc on both sides was very great. It was by the fire of the flotilla that all the ships in the port were in flames, which, extending rapidly over the whole arsenal, gun-boats, and storehouses, exhibited a spectacle of awful grandeur and interest which no pen can describe. Orders for drawing off the fleet were issued about ten at night; the vessels were got safely into the bay and anchored, beyond reach of shot, about two o’clock the next morning.

The battle cost the English fleet one hundred and twenty-eight men killed and six hundred and ninety wounded; in the Dutch squadron, thirteen killed and fifty-two wounded; grand total, eight hundred and eighty-three. But the enemy suffered much more severely, with losses estimated at between six and seven thousand men. All demands had been complied with; the Dey, in presence of all his officers, made a public apology to the British consul. The number of slaves thus released amounted to one thousand and eighty-three, of whom not one was an Englishman. Were there an action more than another on which an Englishman would willingly risk the fame and honor of his nation, it would be this attack on Algiers, which, undertaken solely at her own risk, rescued not a single subject of her own from the tyrant’s grasp, while it freed more than a thousand belonging to other European powers.

A year passed, the hostile squadron had left her ports — again Algiers resumed her attitude as of yore, bid defiance to her foes, and declared war on civilization; again her blood-stained corsairs swept the seas, eager for plunder, ready for combat. It was not until the French expedition of 1830 that the Algerine pirate state was finally brought to an end.