CHAPTER FOUR.
INTRODUCES THE READER TO THE PIRATE CITY, AND TO A FEW OF ITSPECULIARITIES AND PRACTICES.
Permit us now, good reader, to introduce you to the top of a house inAlgiers. The roofs of the houses in the Pirate City are flat--a mostadmirable Eastern peculiarity which cannot be too strongly recommendedto Western builders. They are, therefore, available as pleasant"terraces," on which you may rise above your cares, to lounge, andsmoke--if afflicted with the latter mania--and sip coffee with yourwife, (wives, if you be a Turk), or romp with your children--if not toodignified--or cultivate flowers, or read in a state of elevatedserenity, or admire the magnificent view of the blue bay, backed by thebluer Jurjura mountains, with the snow-topped range of the Lesser Atlasbeyond. How much wiser thus to utilise one's house-top than to yield itup, rent-free, to cats and sparrows!
Achmet Pasha, the Dey of Algiers at this time, or rather thepirate-king, had a thorough appreciation of the roof of his palace, andspent many hours daily on it, in consultation with his ministers, or inconverse with his wives.
As deys went, Achmet was a comparatively respectable man. He thought nomore of cutting off a human head than of docking a rat's tail; but thenhe did not take a particular pleasure in this employment, and was notnaturally cruel, which is more than could be said of many of hispredecessors. He was also said to be a kind husband and a fond father,but as no one, save the wives and children in question, knew anything ofthe inner and private life of the palace, this must for ever remain amatter of uncertainty. There was no doubt, however, that he was a tall,handsome, dignified man, in the prime of life, with a stern eye and apleasant expression of mouth; that, in character, he was bold andresolute; and that, in his jewelled turban, gold-incrusted vestments,and flowing Eastern robes, he looked resplendent.
Courage and resolution were, indeed, qualities without which a Dey ofAlgiers could scarcely come into existence, because his high position,not being hereditary, was naturally the ambitious goal of all the boldspirits in the Turkish army of janissaries which held the city, with itsmixed Arab population, in subjection. The most common mode of a changeof government was the strangulation of the reigning Dey by the man whohad power and party influence sufficient to enable him to ascend thevacant throne. Sometimes the throne thus obtained was held for only afew days, or even hours, when it chanced that there were severalfactions of pretty equal power, and two or three men of similar vigourin the army. It is a fact that on more than one occasion three Deyshave ascended and sat upon this undesirable throne within twenty-fourhours, each having been strangled or having had his head cut off by "theopposition" soon after occupying his predecessor's warm seat!
Achmet, however, had reigned for a considerable period in peace, and wason the whole a popular ruler.
At the time when we introduce him he was pacing the terrace, or roof ofthe palace, with slow dignified steps, but with a troubled expression ofcountenance. His chief adviser, Sidi Omar, the Minister of Marine, andone of the most unscrupulous and cunning men in the nest, walked besidehim. They were attended and followed by a young but nearly full-grownlion. It was a common thing for the Deys and his chief officers to keeplion-pups as pets, but as a rule these were chained up on becoming toolarge to be safe playthings. Achmet, however, being of a bold, recklessnature, seemed to enjoy the occasional symptoms of alarm betrayed by hisattendants at sight of his overgrown pup, and kept it by him until, aswe have said, it was nearly full-grown. He appeared to have no idea ofpersonal danger. Possibly he did not believe the huge playful brute tobe capable of mischief. Perhaps he felt confident in the keen edge ofhis Damascene scimitar, and in the power of his arm to lop off evenleonine heads. Whatever may have been the truth on this point, his easeand indifference were evidently not shared by Sidi Omar.
That sly individual was a strong-bodied, middle-aged Turk of commandingpresence but sinister countenance, which latter was damaged by the lossof an eye and a sabre-cut across the nose.
"I have been asked," said Omar, continuing a conversation which hadalready lasted some time, "to beg that your highness will grant anaudience to the Spanish consul; he claims as countrywomen the two ladieswho have been just brought in by Sidi Hassan, but I advise that youshould refuse him."
"Why so?" asked Achmet.
"Because, although there is, I believe, some ground for his claim, theinvestigation of the question will only occasion useless trouble, as heis unable to prove his case."
"Nay, then, your last reason seems to me in favour of granting anaudience," returned the Dey, "for if his plea be insufficient I shallthus appear to be desirous of furthering justice without suffering loss.It is always wise to act with urbanity when it costs one nothing."
Achmet smiled, and a gleam of mischievous fun twinkled in his eyes as heobserved his minister cast a furtive glance, suggestive of anything buturbanity, at the lion, which had playfully brushed its tail against hisleg in passing.
"Your highness's judgment is always just," returned Sidi Omar; "and werewe desirous of maintaining peace with Spain at present, it would beright to propitiate their consul; but, as you are aware, the treatieswhich we have recently formed with various nations are not to ouradvantage. The peace recently forced upon us by America has stoppedsuddenly the annual flow of a very considerable amount of tribute, (seeNote 1), and the constant efforts made by that nation of ill-favoureddogs, the British, to bring about peace between us and Portugal will, Ifear, soon dry up another source of revenue, if things go on as theyhave been doing of late, it is plain to me that we shall soon be atpeace with all the world, and be under the necessity of turning ourhands to farming or some such work for a livelihood!"
"Fear not, Sidi Omar," replied the Dey, with a short laugh, "this fairand ancient city has lived too long by war to be capable ofcondescending now to arts of peace. We shall have no difficulty inpicking a quarrel with any nation that seems most desirable when ourcoffers begin to grow empty--in regard to which, let us be thankful,they show no signs at present. But have a care, Omar, how you speakdisrespectfully of the British. They are apt, like their representativeat your heels, to spring when you least expect it, and they havepowerful claws and teeth. Besides, they are my very good friends, andsome of their statesmen have a great regard for me. Being at war, asyou know, with some of the most powerful European nations just now, theyknow that I do them good service in the Mediterranean by rendering tradedifficult and hazardous to all except those with whom I am at peace.Spain being on friendly terms with us at present, I will receive theSpanish consul. Go, let him know my pleasure, and see that thou hast myscrivano instilled with all requisite information to refute him."
Sidi Omar bowed low, and retired without venturing a reply. At the sametime a man of curious aspect stepped from the doorway which conductedfrom the terrace to the lower parts of the house. His Eastern costumewas almost equal to that of the Dey in magnificence, but there was atinselly look about the embroidery, and a glassy sheen in the jewels,which, added to the humorous and undignified cast of his countenance,bespoke him one of low degree. He was the Dey's story-teller, andfilled much the same office at the palace that was held by court jestersin the olden time. The presence of some such individual in Achmet'scourt, even in the first quarter of the present century, was renderednecessary by the fact that the Dey himself had risen from the ranks, andwas an illiterate man.
Advancing towards his master with a freedom that no other domestic ofthe palace would have dared to assume, he, with affected solemnity,demanded an audience.
"I cannot refuse it, Hadji Baba, seeing that thou dost swagger into mypresence unbidden," said Achmet, with a smile, as he sat down in theusual oriental fashion--cross-legged on a low couch--and patted the headof the noble animal which he had chosen as his companion, and whichappeared to regard him with the affection of a dog--
"What may be your news?"
"I have no news," replied Baba, with humility. "News cannot be conveyedto one who knows all things, by
one who is a dog and knows nothing."
"Thou knowest at all events how to look well after that which concernsthyself," replied the Dey. "What hast thou to say to me?"
"That the man with the proboscis, who struts when he walks, and snivelswhen he speaks, desires a favour of your highness."
"Speak not in riddles," returned the Dey sharply. "I have no time towaste with thee to-day. Say thy say and be gone."
Hadji Baba, who was indeed thoroughly alive to his own interest, wasmuch too prudent to thwart the humour of his master. Briefly, thoughwithout changing his tone or manner, he informed him that the Spanishconsul awaited his pleasure below.
"Let him wait," said the Dey, resuming the pipe which for some minuteshe had laid aside, and caressing the lion's head with the other hand.
"May I venture to say that he seems anxious?" added the story-teller.
"How much did he give thee for thus venturing to interrupt me, at therisk of thy head?" demanded the Dey sternly.
"Truly," replied the jester, with a rueful air, "not much more thanwould buy gold thread to sew my head on again, were your highnesspleased to honour me by cutting it off."
"Be gone, caitiff," said the Dey, with a slight smile.
Baba vanished without further reply.
Meanwhile Sidi Omar left the palace and directed his steps to his ownquarters, which stood on the little fortified island in front ofAlgiers. This islet, having been connected with the mainland by a pieror neck of masonry about a hundred yards long, formed the insignificantharbour which gave shelter to the navy of small craft owned by thepirates. At the present day the French have constructed there amagnificent harbour, of which that now referred to is a mere corner inthe vicinity of the old light-house. Although small, the port was wellfortified, and as the Minister of Marine descended towards it, his eyeglanced with approval over the double and treble tiers of guns whichfrowned from its seaward battlements. In passing over the connectingpier, Sidi Omar paused to observe a gang of slaves at work repairingsome of the buildings which covered the pier stretching from themainland to the island.
Although slaves, they were not of the black colour or thick-lipped,flat-nosed aspect which we are apt to associate with the name of slave.They were, indeed, burnt to the deepest brown, and many of them alsoblistered, by the sun, but they were all "white men," and contemptuouslystyled, by their Mohammedan task-masters, Christians. The pier on whichthey wrought had been constructed long before by thirty thousand suchslaves; and the Algerine pirates, for above three centuries previous tothat, had expended the lives of hundreds of thousands of them in thebuilding of their fortifications and other public works; in thecultivation of their fields and gardens, and in the labours of theirdomestic drudgery.
Some of the slaves thus observed by the Minister of Marine had beensailors and merchants and mechanics, military and naval officers,clerks, scholars, and other gentlefolks from Italy, Portugal, America,and all the lands which chanced to be "at war" with his highness theDey. Formerly there had been hosts of English, French, Spanish,etcetera, but their governments having bowed their heads, opened theirpurses, and sent consuls to the piratical city, they were now graciouslyexempted from thraldom. It was hardish work for men accustomed tocooler climates to be obliged, in the sunshine of an African summer, toharness themselves to carts like oxen, and lift huge stones and hods ofmortar with little more than a ragged shirt and trousers to cover themfrom the furnace-heat of day or the dews of night. Men who carryumbrellas and wear puggeries now-a-days on the Boulevard de laRepublique of Algiers have but a faint conception of what some of theirforefathers endured down at the "Marina" not much more than fifty yearsago, and of what they themselves could endure, perhaps, if fairly tried!It must not be supposed, however, that all the slaves stood the trialequally well. Some were old, others were young; some were feeble,others strong; all were more or less worn--some terribly so.
Yonder old man carrying the block of stone which might tax the energiesof a stout youth, and to whom a taskmaster has just administered a cutwith the driving-whip, looks like one who has seen better days. Even inhis ragged shirt, broken-brimmed straw hat, and naked feet, he lookslike a gentleman. So he is; and there is a gentle lady and a stout son,and two sweet daughters, in Naples, who are toiling almost as hard as hedoes--if hours be allowed to count for pains--in order to make up hisransom. The strong bull-necked man that follows him with a hod ofmortar is an unmistakable seaman of one of the Mediterranean ports. Heis a desperate character, and in other lands might be dangerous; but heis safe enough here, for the bastinado is a terrible instrument oftorture, and the man is now not only desperate in wrath, but issometimes desperately frightened. His driver takes a fiendish pleasurein giving him an extra cut of the whip, just to make him apparently awilling horse, whether he will or not. The poor youth beside him is avery different character. His training has been more gentle, and hisconstitution less robust, for he has broken down under the cruel toil,and is evidently in the last stages of consumption. The taskmaster doesnot now interfere with him as he was wont to do when he first arrived.He knows that the day is not far distant when neither the bastinado norany other species of torture will have power to force work out of him.He also knows that overdriving will only shorten the days of hisusefulness; he therefore wisely lets him stagger by unmolested, with hislight load.
But why go on enumerating the sorrows of these slaves? Sidi Omar lookedat them with a careless glance, until he suddenly caught sight ofsomething that caused his eyes to flash and his brows to contract. Asbirro, or officer of justice, stood near him, whether by chance orotherwise we know not. Touching the sbirro on the shoulder, he pointedto a group under the shade of an archway, and said in a low tone--
"Go, fetch hither that scoundrel Blindi."
The sbirro at once stepped towards the group, which consisted of twopersons. One was an old, apparently dying, slave; the other was astrong middle-aged man, in a quaint blue gown, who knelt by his side,and poured something from a flask into his mouth.
The sbirro seized this man rudely by the neck, and said--
"Get up, Blindi, and come along with me." Laying the head of the oldman gently on the ground, and rising with some wrath, Blindi demanded,in English so broken that we find difficulty in mending it sufficientlyto be presented to the reader--
"Wot for you means by dat?"
"Speak your mother tongue, you dog, and make haste, for the Minister ofMarine wants you."
"Oh! mos' awfrul," exclaimed Blindi, turning pale, and drawing his bluegarment hastily round him, as he meekly followed the officer ofjustice--whose chief office, by the way, was to administer injustice.
The man whom we have styled Blindi was a somewhat peculiar character.He was an Algerine by birth, but had served several years in the Britishnavy, and had acquired a smattering of the English language--forecastleEnglish, as a matter of course. In consequence of this, and of havinglost an eye in the service, he had obtained a pension, and theappointment of interpreter to all his Britannic Majesty's ships visitingAlgiers. He dwelt at the harbour, or Marina, where he excited thewonder and admiration of all the Turks and Moors by his volubility intalking English. He was a man of no small importance, in his ownestimation, and was so proud of his powers as a linguist that heinvariably interlarded his converse with English phrases, whether he wasaddressing Turk, Jew, or Christian. Lingua Franca--a compound of nearlyall the languages spoken on the shores of the Mediterranean--was thetongue most in use at the Marina of Algiers at that time, but as thiswould be unintelligible to our reader, we will give Blindi'sconversations in his favourite language. What his real name was we havefailed to discover. The loss of his eye had obtained for him in thenavy the name of Blind Bob. In his native city this was Italianisedinto Blindi Bobi. But Bobi was by no means blind of the other eye. Itwas like seven binocular glasses rolled into one telescope. Once he hadunfortunately brought it to bear on the Minister of Marine with such aconcentrated stare that he, being a
lso blind of an eye, regarded it as apersonal allusion thereto, and never forgave Blindi Bobi.
"This is the second time," said Omar, when the culprit was broughtbefore him, "that I have caught you interfering with the slaves."
"Please, sar, hims was werry bad--dyin', me s'pose."
"Speak your own tongue, dog, else you shall smart for it," said theMinister of Marine, with increasing wrath.
The poor interpreter to his Britannic Majesty's navy repeated his wordsin the Lingua Franca, but Omar, again interrupting him, ordered thesbirro to take him off and give him the bastinado.
"And have a care, Blindi," added Omar, observing that the interpreterwas about to speak; "if you say that you are under the protection of theBritish consul I'll have you flayed alive.--Off with him!"
The sbirro, with a comrade, led Bobi through several of the narrowstreets of the town to a chamber which was set apart for the inflictionof punishment. It was a dark, vaulted apartment under a publicbuilding. The massive pillars of stone which supported its roof lookedpale and ghostlike against the thick darkness which was beyond them,giving the idea of interminable space. One of the sbirros lighted alantern, and led the way through a massive door, all studded with hugenails, into a small square chamber, the walls of which looked as if theyhad been bespattered with a dark-brown liquid, especially in theneighbourhood of several iron rings, from which chains depended. Inaddition to these and a number of other characteristic implements, therewas a pile of blood-stained rods in a corner.
Saying a few words to a powerful negro whom they found in attendance,the sbirros handed Blindi Bobi over to him. He instantly disrobed himof his blue gown, and threw him on his back with the aid of an equallypowerful assistant, and began to uncover his stomach.
The interpreter was no coward. He had prepared himself to enduremanfully the bastinado on the soles of his feet--as it was usuallyadministered--but when he perceived that they were about to inflict theblows on a more tender part of his body, he trembled and remonstrated.
"Sidi Omar no' say you hit 'im dare. Hims 'peal to British consil--"
Thus far he spoke, from the force of habit, in his adopted tongue, butfear speedily drove him to that of his mother.
All tongues, however, were alike to the negroes, who, rendered callousfrom long service against their will in a brutalising office, went abouttheir preparations with calm and slow indifference.
Just as they were about to begin, one of the sbirros, who had a personalregard for Bobi, spoke a few words to one of the negroes, whoimmediately turned Blindi Bobi on his face and firmly raised his feet sothat the naked soles were turned upwards. The other negro applied oneof the rods thereto with all his might. For a few seconds the poorsufferer uttered no sound, but at last he gave vent to an irresistibleyell. At a sign from the chief sbirro the punishment was stopped, andBobi was released and allowed to rise.
Conducting him to the door, the sbirro thrust him into the street, flunghis blue gown after him, and advised him to beware of again rousing thewrath of Sidi Omar.
Blindi Bobi was far too well acquainted with the cruelties perpetratedcontinually in the pirate city to be ignorant of the fact that he hadgot off with a light punishment, yet we fear that did not cause him toentertain much gratitude to Sidi Omar as he limped back to his quartersat the Marina.
Arrived there, he observed that the sick old man still lay where he hadleft him. Running towards him with a sudden impulse, he drew forth hisflask, knelt down, raised the old man's head and gave him a long heartydraught, after which he took another to himself.
"Derre!" he said, rising and shaking his fist defiantly in the directionin which Sidi Omar dwelt, "I's revenged on you--brute! bah! boo-o!"
After this relief to his feelings Blindi Bobi went home to attend to hispoor feet.
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Note 1. In 1795 the Americans concluded peace with the Algerians by thepayment of half a million piastres, and an annual tribute of 24,000piastres.
The Pirate City: An Algerine Tale Page 4