A Modern Telemachus | Page 4

for all that is most improbable here is the actual fact.
The Comte de Bourke was really an Irish Jacobite, naturalised in
France, and married to the daughter of the Marquis de Varennes, as
well as in high favour with the Marshal Duke of Berwick.
In 1719, just when the ambition of Elizabeth Farnese, the second wife
of Philip V. of Spain, had involved that country in a war with England,

France, and Austria, the Count was transferred from the Spanish
Embassy to that of Sweden, and sent for his wife and two elder children
to join him at a Spanish port.
This arrangement was so strange that I can only account for it by
supposing that as this was the date of a feeble Spanish attempt on
behalf of the Jacobites in Scotland, Comte de Bourke may not have
ventured by the direct route. Or it may not have been etiquette for him
to re-enter France when appointed ambassador. At any rate, the poor
Countess did take this route to the South, and I am inclined to think the
narrative must be correct, as all the side-lights I have been able to gain
perfectly agree with it, often in an unexpected manner.
The suite and the baggage were just as related in the story--the only
liberty I have taken being the bestowal of names. 'M. Arture' was really
of the party, but I have made him Scotch instead of Irish, and I have no
knowledge that the lackey was not French. The imbecility of the Abbe
is merely a deduction from his helplessness, but of course this may
have been caused by illness.
The meeting with M. de Varennes at Avignon, Berwick's offer of an
escort, and the Countess's dread of the Pyrenees, are all facts, as well as
her embarkation in the Genoese tartane bound for Barcelona, and its
capture by the Algerine corsair commanded by a Dutch renegade, who
treated her well, and to whom she gave her watch.
Algerine history confirms what is said of his treatment. Louis XIV. had
bombarded the pirate city, and compelled the Dey to receive a consul
and to liberate French prisoners and French property; but the lady
having been taken in an Italian ship, the Dutchman was afraid to set her
ashore without first taking her to Algiers, lest he should fall under
suspicion. He would not venture on taking so many women on board
his own vessel, being evidently afraid of his crew of more than two
hundred Turks and Moors, but sent seven men on board the prize and
took it in tow.
Curiously enough, history mentions the very tempest which drove the
tartane apart from her captor, for it also shattered the French transports
and interfered with Berwick's Spanish campaign.
The circumstances of the wreck have been closely followed. 'M. Arture'
actually saved Mademoiselle de Bourke, and placed her in the arms of
the maitre d'hotel, who had reached a rock, together with the Abbe, the

lackey, and one out of the four maids. The other three were all in the
cabin with their mistress and her son, and shared their fate.
The real 'Arture' tried to swim to the shore, but never was seen again,
so that his adventures with the little boy are wholly imaginary. But the
little girl's conduct is perfectly true. When in the steward's arms she
declared that the savages might take her life, but never should make her
deny her faith.
The account of these captors was a great difficulty, till in the old
Universal History I found a description of Algeria which tallied
wonderfully with the narrative. It was taken from a survey of the coast
made a few years later by English officials.
The tribe inhabiting Mounts Araz and Couco, and bordering on
Djigheli Bay, were really wild Arabs, claiming high descent, but very
loose Mohammedans, and savage in their habits. Their name of
Cabeleyzes is said--with what truth I know not--to mean 'revolted,' and
they held themselves independent of the Dey. They were in the habit of
murdering or enslaving all shipwrecked travellers, except subjects of
Algiers, whom they released with nothing but their lives.
All this perfectly explains the sufferings of Mademoiselle de Bourke.
The history of the plundering, the threats, the savage treatment of the
corpses, the wild dogs, the councils of the tribe, the separation of the
captives, and the child's heroism, is all literally true--the expedient of
Victorine's defence alone being an invention. It is also true that the
little girl and the maitre d'hotel wrote four letters, and sent them by
different chances to Algiers, but only the last ever arrived, and it
created a great sensation.
M. Dessault is a real personage, and the kindness of the Dey and of the
Moors was exactly