This week, we continue with the narrative of Elizabeth Marsh. In last week’s post, Ms. Marsh and her companions were stuck in Safi, on the Atlantic coast of Morocco, waiting for Sultan to allow them to leave. The Sultan seems to have had second thoughts about relinquishing Marsh and has sent a man “whose aversion to the English was implacable” to look into Marsh’s claim that she and her “friend” are in fact married—and that she is therefore not available to the Sultan.
We take up the story from there.
The very next morning, as I was pensively reflecting upon the fact of the Sultan sending a man with an implacable aversion to the English to investigate me and my friend, my room door was thrown open with great violence, and a most forbidding object presented itself to my view.
For several minutes, he fixed his eyes upon me without speaking a word. His aspect was as furious as can possibly be imagined.
Finally, he narrowly inspected every part of my room, muttering to himself in his own language. Then, giving me another terrifying look, he retired , closing the door after him as violently as he had opened it.
I was struck with great horror at his wild appearance, and sat as I was for some time, riveted to my chair.
My friend was ignorant of this visit, for he was walking, with the gentlemen of the factory, at the top of the house. When he returned, I was for some time incapable of acquainting him with what had happened to me.
When I finally narrated to him the details of what had transpired, he concluded immediately that this person was the messenger who had been expected. This was soon confirmed by Mr. Andrews, who came to inquire after my health and to introduce the Danish Consul, who was on the point of departing for Salé and had desired to see me before he left.
This gentleman expressed a tender concern for my illness and recommended a person who, in his opinion, had some knowledge of physic. He obligingly sent this man him to see me, who advised my being bled. As I was uncertain as to his skill, however, I chose to defer bleeding to another opportunity.
When he visited me again and discovered that my complaint was a dejection of spirits, the intended operation was totally laid aside.
Soon after this, I received a letter from Salé that speedily restored me to health, for it had been sent to congratulate us on the arrival of a British warship at that port. The weather being bad, however, they had not reached the shore.
I now began to entertain some favorable hopes of once more of seeing my dear parents. With these pleasing imaginings, I retired to rest.
My repose, however, was interrupted in the night by two shocks of the Earth, which continued a minute and a half.
The fright I was in cannot be expressed. Before I was removed from my room, the ceiling was thrown down, and the walls, though of a prodigious thickness, were cracked in many places. The noise of it may be compared with a carriage going speedily over a rough pavement—ending with a tremendous explosion. The sky remained serene, but the sea made a great roaring, and afterwards we heard that shipping had greatly suffered.
When I was taken back to my room and had a little recovered from my shock, I returned grateful thanks to the Almighty for his protection from the dangers of the night.
Mr. Andrews and my friend breakfasted with me the next morning. My friend read to me from a letter, which be had just received from Juan Arvona, in Morocco, which enclosed a copy of that which had been sent from Captain Hawkins to the Sultan, and which was to the following purpose.
That the Captain was come there, in the name of Admiral, to know the reason for taking and detaining our ship, passengers, and crew in a time of peace. Further, he related, with great respect how much the King, his master, would esteem the justice in the Sultan setting us at liberty, and that he might depend upon the Treaty that had been concluded between our two nations being inviolably maintained on the part of his Britannic Majesty.
To this letter, his Imperial Highness the Sultan answered that, when we were taken, his ship had been out at sea for some considerable time, and the Captain had consequently been unacquainted with any peace having been being made.
Further, upon our arrival in Salé, a report prevailed that his Ambassador had failed in his negotiation, which was the reason for his sending us to Morocco. Despite this, however, the Sultan declared that, upon our arrival, he (who always kept his word) had declared us free, as well as the ship and cargo, and likewise had ordered the crew back to Salé in order to refit the ship. In the Interim, he declared, I and the other passengers were sent to Safi, to wait there until all was ready for us to proceed on our voyage.
His Imperial Highness further declared that he would, for his part, duly adhere to the treaty. But, he added, if the peace was not soon formally ratified by the Court of England, he would deem this as a declaration of war and order his ships to make reprisals and stop all communication between the Garrison of Gibraltar and his dominions.
He ended his reply with complaints against the English for furnishing his rebellious subjects with arms and ammunition.
Juan Arvona further informed my friend in his letter that a Jew would be sent out soon from Morocco to Safi to negotiate on behalf of the Sultan with the Captain of the warship.
The Sultan also said that we might either embark on board the warship or return to Salé and continue our voyage in the merchantman we had been passengers on. He knew very well, however, that the latter was impossible, as the ship was almost pulled to pieces, and his people were fitting out their pirate cruisers with the materials they had taken from it.
Even if the case had been otherwise, though, my strength was too much exhausted by illness and sorrow for me to be in any condition to take so fatiguing a journey.
Several days later, the Jew arrived from Morocco, and, that very same day, the warship anchored in Safi road.
A boat was immediately sent on shore with our letters. Among these was one from my dear father, who encouraged me to keep up my spirits and assured me that nothing should be wanting to procure my release.
All these developments filled me with hope. I had had, however, too many distresses and disappointments to be able to fully believe in the promise of these events, and I could not help but anxiously anticipate some last minute calamity to undo all our plans.
For those who may be interested, the above excerpt comes from pages 118 – 133 of Volume 2 of the 1766 edition of Elisabeth Marsh’s The Female Captive: A Narrative of Facts Which Happened in Barbary in the Year 1756, Written by Herself.
As with previous weeks’ excerpts, I have taken some editorial license and revised (and in this extract slightly abridged) Marsh’s original text to make it more accessible for modern casual readers.
The Travels of Reverend Ólafur Egilsson
The story of the Barbary corsair raid on Iceland in 1627
Amazon listing