This week, we continue with the narrative of Elizabeth Marsh. In last week’s post, Ms. Marsh and her companions had left the city of Morocco (i.e., Marrakesh) and had set out for Safi, on the Atlantic coast.
We take up the story from there.
After resting for the night, we set out again at day-break and traveled all day, pitching our tents in the evening near a salt lake three miles long and two broad, which from November through April is a river and, at other times, quite hard. It is esteemed a great curiosity, being fifty miles from the sea.
We rode over part of it but only proceeded a few miles further before the tents were fixed for the night on a large plain (called Roseline) that was very fine but entirely uncultivated. We passed the night at this charming spot and then prepared for continuing our journey. But since it was the Jewish Sabbath, our servants (who were of that religion) refused to attend us on that day. Our guards, by very severe usage, forced them to comply.
It was shocking to see the subjugation these poor creatures are forced to endure under the Moors, for the greatest miscreant amongst them, or even a boy, may buffet and abuse them without their having the least redress. But if a Jew should lift his hand against a Moor, he would be instantly put to death.
We were happy in the company of Mr. Court, who was always cheerful and entertaining. Mister Andrews was likewise very kind to us, all of which contributed to render short and pleasing an otherwise troublesome journey.
A number of wild Arabs, who had been watering their sheep at a well near the road, alarmed us. They offered us milk, but we refused it, being so advised by those who knew it to be a mere ploy in order to get money from us. It was therefore judged to be necessary for us to plead poverty whilst we remained in Barbary.
We were soon after this met by a Governor who, with a party of soldiers, was going to take up command at some castle a few miles distant. He accosted us in English, which he spoke well, having learned the language while serving as Ambassador to the Court of Great Britain.
He made a very good figure and was so extremely civil that he ordered his people to fire their muskets for us, by way of a salute. My friend, however, desired he should forbid it, as I had been unwell and he feared it might be too much for my spirits. This, the Governor very obligingly complied with. He wished us a good night and hoped that we would be cheerful, as he did not doubt that we should soon leave the country. As he rode off, one of his people (as a compliment) fired off his musket at full gallop.
We stopped about three miles before we reached Safi, where all the Christian merchants had assembled to meet us, bringing refreshments with them. A little time was spent there in ceremony, and then we proceeded to the gates of Safi. There where we were forced to dismounted on account of a great crowd, drawn by curiosity about us, who obstructed our passage and gave us much uneasiness and interruption.
Having at length entered into the town and the house of Mr. Andrews, we were kindly received by his partner, Mr. Conneller, and welcomed in a particularly hospitable manner to their habitation. We were entertained with a genteel supper, and I was afterwards conducted to the room allotted to me.
My first thoughts were to return thanks to Providence for the happiness I then enjoyed in being under the roof of those who professed the same faith as I. I slept tolerably well, considering the fatigues of the journey, and, in the morning, I met the gentlemen for breakfast.
In the meanwhile, the Governor of the place made us a visit. He told us that he had received orders from the Sultan that out stay was to be fifteen days, during which we were to be treated as free people. In the interim, he was waiting to receive further instructions in relation to us.
This communication was in no way agreeable to me, for I feared the Sultan might be reconsidering his decision to grant us liberty.
Whilst we were at dinner, a number of Moors surrounded the table. I found that it was customary for them to enter the houses of Christians whenever they thought proper, and the owners could not prevent it, though they were sensible how disagreeable it was to me.
When I retired to my chamber, I employed myself in packing up all such letters as would have revealed me to be a single woman and delivered them to the care of Mr. Andrews. My friend also procured for me a plain gold ring from a Swedish captain. I locked this in a chest, fully expecting a search to be made of my effects in order to know whether I was really married or only made a pretense thereof. Such precautions were necessary in order to guard against the danger to which I was still exposed.
I desired my friend to write to Arvona, the slave who had aided and accompanied us and who remained in Morocco, to learn what had passed at the Palace after my departure, for I was ever in dread that his Imperial Highness would again send for me, for though he had shown great condescension in permitting me to leave him when it was in his power to detain me, yet I knew him to be an absolute monarch, and therefore I had reason to be extremely uneasy.
I had entertained great hopes, now that we were in Safi, of receiving letters from my family and friends. The disappointment of not receiving any made me very unhappy. This and many other reasons kept me in perpetually misery, and I often wished to be taken from this world, for it afforded me no consolation.
I was in one of my desponding reveries, when Mr. Court entered the room. Seeing me extremely dejected, he attempted to dispel my fears. Any satisfaction I may have derived from this was but of short duration, for he informed me that he had had just received an express from his partner in business desiring his return, as he stood in need of his assistance.
This unwelcome news so greatly afflicted me that I bade adieu to cheerfulness.
He left us early in the evening to prepare for his journey, and I was entirely miserable when I reflected on the loss of our best adviser and protector, and I could not help but fear what the future might hold in store for me, trapped as I was in this place and still at the mercy of the Sultan should he choose to exercise he power with regards to me.
For those who may be interested, the above excerpt comes from pages 66 – 87 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.
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