THE NARRATIVE OF JOÃO DE CARVALHO MASCARENHAS – PART 8

This week, we conclude the series of extracts from the narrative of João de Carvalho Mascarenhas, the Portuguese soldier who was captured at sea by corsairs from Algiers in 1621. We ended last week, remember, with the captives being relieved of their diamonds.

As for Dona Antonia, the wife of Captain Dom Luis de Sousa [who died of his wounds] and Maria Ribeira, the wife of Pero Mendes de Vasconcelos [who also died of his wounds], the Turks had them very respectfully searched by two old and serious corsairs.

They took from Dona Antonia some jewels which she had in her hair, and as they felt the surface of her garments at her waist, she let fall to her feet a broad ribbon which she wore under her petticoat, to which she had attached several sachets of diamonds and jewelry belonging to herself and her husband, among which was a chain of great value. Finding nothing further upon her person, the Turks left her, and she sat down quickly on the ribbon which she had dropped at her feet, thus saving her valuables. Immediately after, she distribute the jewels among the old Christian slaves who served as sailors on the ship.

As for the wife of Pero Mendes, she gave the first Turk that she came across all the jewels that she had kept and that she had hidden before leaving our ship. She believed that if she acted otherwise, they would kill her. They took from her, among other things, a gold cross of the order of Christ, adorned with precious stones, which her husband brought back with him intending to give it away. This was her ruin and her loss, for it gave the corsairs a very high estimation of her and her children, thinking that she was the wife of a great knight of Christ, which her husband was by no means.

The Turks treated the captives onboard their ships with surprising respect, which was not what we expected from such barbarian pirates. They began by putting everybody belowdecks, in the hold. The first to arrive in each ship was, according to their custom, thrown upside down through the hatch. In this they had more pity than the Malabars and the Moors of India who, when they capture any Portuguese, slaughter the first one and smear the prow of their ship with his blood to assure a good voyage.

Once all the captives were in the hold, the corsairs cautioned them not to allow themselves to be undressed or stripped of anything. If any Moor tried to do so, they were to shout out, and the thief would be punished immediately. They separated the women from the men and instructed the captives not to have intercourse together. If anyone disobeyed, he would be whipped and thrown into the sea. To avoid this, there were at night, on each ship, more than twelve lighted lanterns, with Turks on duty. The corsairs indeed consider as very serious all the sins of the flesh that one commits at sea. According to them, a ship upon which such sins occur cannot be saved and will sink immediately.

The corsairs gave us to eat what they ate themselves. They made big pots of rice or boiled wheat for everyone, with plenty of biscuits, olives, and cheese. These are the provisions they take to sea. As they had left Algiers only a few days before, there was plenty of water.

Many of them felt sorry for our ordeals and were amazed to learn that we had been at sea for so many months. They brought us raisins and chickpeas, which are a treat with them.

All together and in very good order, the corsair ships entered the Strait of Gibraltar. We captives had another misfortune there. Don Fradique de Toledo’s squadron was in the Strait, where it had carried off all the vessels which the Turks had taken from the English and which they had sent onwards. When ours arrived in front of Malaga, the last ships of the squadron were leaving it, towing their catches. If it hadn’t been for these captures, we would have met with the Spanish squadron, and our destiny would have changed once again. But we were damned by divine justice to be slaves, and nothing good could happen to us.

As soon as the pirates had entered the Strait, their marabouts took some sheep (they always keep live ones onboard for this purpose) and, cutting them in half while still alive, they threw one half, that of the head, towards Spain, and the other half, that of the tail, towards Barbary. By this sorcery, or this sacrifice they make to the devil, these naïve wretches believe they can summon up the wind in order to be able to cross the Strait more quickly.

When it was dark, they lit in each ship more than five hundred wax candles, placing ten or twelve on each piece of artillery. Such is their custom each time they cross the Strait of Gibraltar because of the great fear they have of being captured.

In the middle of the strait, they met two ships laden with wheat, which they sank after removing the crew, for in Algiers wheat is so abundant and so good that when they acquire some as booty, they make little of it. I have seen sacks of wheat—wheat is for the most part transported and sold in sacks—sold in Algiers for extremely low prices.

Some days after crossing the Strait, the corsair ships approached Algiers. They arrived on a Monday, at the second watch, with all their banners flying, their shields out, their bastard trumpets blaring, and salvoes of artillery thundering across the harbor to celebrate their triumph—an occasion that was for us one of sadness, sorrow, and misfortune.