but the Maltese, who have from a very early period been celebrated as divers, were able to complete it in an incredibly short time. Mustapha was dismayed at perceiving so novel and formidable an obstacle rising to impede his projected attack, and anxious, if possible, to prevent its completion, he selected a body of the most expert swimmers in his army, whom he provided with axes, and despatched with instructions to destroy the barrier. The admiral de Monte, who commanded at St. Michael’s, met this attack by a similar sally. His Maltese divers, with their swords between their teeth, dashed into the water, and their superior activity in that element giving them a great advantage over their opponents, the latter were soon overcome, and but few succeeded in regaining the opposite shore.
Whilst the assault was still pending, the viceroy of Algiers named Hassan, son of the redoubtable Hayradin Barbarossa, and son-in-law of Dragut, arrived with a reinforcement of 2,500 men, all of whom had served a long apprenticeship in the desperate piratical warfare of the Mediterranean. Hassan, whose great success as a leader had made him very vainglorious, sneered at the numerous failures which had hitherto taken place. A survey of the ruins of St. Elmo led him to express his amazement that Mustapha should have allowed himself to be baffled for such a length of time by so insignificant a work. Following up the taunt, he volunteered, with the troops he had just brought with him, to lead the assault against Senglea. The Turkish general was only too glad to give the young braggart an opportunity of making good his words. He was therefore appointed to head the attack on the land side, whilst his lieutenant, Candêlissa, led that upon the spur by water.
At a given signal, early on the morning of the 15th of July, the action commenced by the advance of the Turkish flotilla. Its progress was enlivened by the strains of martial music, and the sun on that summer’s morn flashed upon many a glittering weapon, and lighted up many a gay and fluttering pennon. It was a beautiful sight, and but for the fearful stake at issue, would have struck with admiration the gazers who crowded the bastions around. The war had, however, been
