AN AMERICAN IN ALGIERS – PART 1 – Corsairs & Captives

We’re going to do something a little bit different for the next few weeks. Mostly, the narratives, enquiries, backgrounds, translations, etc. presented here come from the seventeenth century—usually the first half of the seventeenth century—and are of European origin.

The next few weeks, however, will be devoted to a captivity narrative from the end of the eighteenth century, written by an American and published as: A journal, of the captivity and sufferings of John Foss; several years a prisoner at Algiers.

John Foss was a crewmember aboard an American merchant ship. In late October, 1793, his ship, the Polly, was a couple of days’ sail away from their intended destination of Cadiz, in Spain, when they spotted a sail on the horizon…

Here is John Foss’s narrative of what happened.

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We got our breakfast, and ate it in the greatest jollity, not apprehending any danger nigh, expecting to reach our port of destination within 48 hours, as we judged ourselves to be about 35 leagues westward of Cape St. Vincent. But what a fatal day was this! How visionary our hopes! Our sprightly looks, cheerful congratulations, and anticipations of reaching the port of our destination were soon turned into the most gloomy despair. Little did we think in the morning when we arose with nothing before us but liberty and contentment, that before the sun should have reached the meridian altitude, we should be slaves to merciless Barbarians.

This however, was the case, for at 9 AM we saw a strange sail bearing E. N. E., flying the English Flag. We supposed her to be an English Privateer. She soon bore down upon us. By this time we could see, by the cut of her sails, that she was not an English vessel, although she had still the English slag flying. We then supposed her to be a French Privateer, hoisting the English flag to deceive their enemy.

We immediately clued down our topgallant sails and hove too in order to wait ‘till she came along side. When she came near enough to make us hear, she hailed us in English, asked from whence we came, and where bound, to which our captain, Capt. Bayley, immediately answered. The man who hailed us was dressed in the Christian habit, and was the only person we could yet see on deck. By this time, the ship was under our stern. We then saw several men jump upon her poop to hall aft the main sheet, and we realized by their dress and long beards that they were Moors, or Algerines.

Our feelings at this most unwelcome sight are more easily imagined than described. What dreadful perturbations! To escape was impossible. Weapons of defense, we had none and must therefore resign ourselves to the mercy of these piratical sea-rovers.

The ship then hove too under our lee, and we heard a most terrible shouting, clapping of hands, huzzaing etc.—and saw a great number of men suddenly rise up with their heads above the gunnel, dressed in the Turkish habit like those we saw on the poop. They immediately hoisted out a large launch, and about one hundred of the pirates jumped on board, all armed, some with scimitars and pistols, others with pikes, spears, lances, knives, etc. They manned about 20 oars and rowed alongside us.

As soon as they came on board our vessel, they made signs for us all to go forward, assuring us in several languages that if we did not obey their commands, they would immediately massacre us all. They then went below into the cabin, steerage, and every place where they could get below deck, and broke open all the trunks and chests there were on board and plundered all our bedding, clothing, books, charts, quadrants, and every moveable article that did not consist of the cargo or furniture.

They then came on deck, like a parcel of ravenous wolves, and stripped the clothes off our backs, all except a shirt and pair of drawers (myself being left with no shirt at all.) The next day an aged Turk, with an air of kindness, gave me an old shirt without sleeves, blaming those who had taken mine from me. It was soothing to find a spark of humanity in my barbarous masters, who had but the day before stripped us. This was the only Mahometan I ever met with in whom I had the least reason to suppose the smallest spark of humanity was kindled.

Then, having chosen a sufficient number of the Algerines to take command of the prize, they ordered us all into the launch, rowed to their own vessel, and ordered us on board. We embarked accordingly and were conducted by some of the sea rovers to the door of the poop, at which place we were received by a negro man who conducted us into the cabin.

When we entered, we saw the commander of the pirates, sitting upon a matt on the cabin floor. With the help of an interpreter, he asked us many questions concerning the vessel and cargo, the places of our nativity, and many others—questions as void of sense as he was of philanthropy who asked them. He then informed us that he was an Algerine, that his vessel belonged to Algiers, that her name was Babazera, that his name Rais Hudga Mahomet Salamia, and that we were his prisoners and would experience the most abject slavery upon our arrival at Algiers, which we soon found to be true.

Our dismay was all the greater when we found that they were Algerines (for before we had supposed them to be Moors), knowing as we did that the Algerines used the most severity towards Christian captives of any state in all Barbary.

Rais Hudga then informed us that we must do our duty as seamen on board his vessel. We told him we had no clothes, his people having taken everything from us except what he saw on our backs, which was not sufficient for us to stand on deck with. He answered in very abusive words, he would teach us to work naked, adding, “Now you are slaves and must be treated as such, and do not think that you will be treated worse than you really deserve, for your bigotry and superstition in believing in a man who was crucified by the Jews and disregarding the true doctrine of God’s last and greatest prophet, Mahomet!” He then ordered us immediately to our duty.

When we came out of the cabin, we saw the Polly just making sail. That night we lost sight of her, and we saw her no more until our arrival at Algiers. About sunset they brought us a dish of oil, olives, vinegar and some bread, and told us to eat heartily while we were on board, for after our arrival at Algiers, we should not be allowed such dainties. Although we were very hungry, we could eat but very little, considering the situation we were in, and our not being used to such a diet.

After we had finished our supper they divided us (12 in number) into two watches and ordered us on deck in our respective watches. It fell to my lot to have the first watch below, and as we went down they ordered us into the sail room to sleep and showed us the door. We were obliged to creep in, upon our hands and knees, and stow ourselves upon the sails in the best manner we could.

We endeavored to get a little sleep, but could not, as our minds were filled with horror, and dreadful apprehensions of the fate we might experience, and of the additional severity on our arrival at Algiers.

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For the next installment of John Foss’s narrative, see the next post here in this blog.

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For those who may be interested…

The above excerpt from John Foss’s narrative comes from A journal, of the captivity and sufferings of John Foss; several years a prisoner at Algiers: together with some account of the treatment of Christian slaves when sick—and observations on the Manners and Customs of the Algerines, second edition, originally published in 1798, pp. 8-13. As usual, I have lightly edited and abridged the original text to make it more accessible for modern readers.