(This post is a continuation of The Odyssey of René du Chastelet des Boys – Parts 1 through 5. If you haven’t done so already, it’s best to read those posts before continuing on here.)
René du Chastelet des Boys, remember, has been sold to Oge Ali, the official scribe for the ruling council of Algiers, the Divan, and is now trying to adjust to his new life as a slave. He is about to begin the task of selling water in the streets of Algiers.
The next morning, I was provided with two large jugs of brass, which I was hardly able to carry when they were empty. Fear, however, gives strength, so I shouted through the streets just as other slave water sellers did, calling out “Ab el ma!” (that is, “My water is good!”).
At day’s end, I had only managed to sell twelve aspres worth of water, which I brought with me to the house of Oge Ali, my master. Finding that I was eight aspres short of the twenty he had demanded from me for each day, he prepared to execute his threats and commanded two of his English slaves to turn me upside down and attach my feet to a contraption of rope and wood which they lifted up, holding me immobile with my feet in the air. He then began striking me on the soles of my feet.
In that uncomfortable position, having already received five to six painful clouts, I saw my owner’s wife appear, returning from a trip in the city. Luckily for me, she softened her husband’s temper, reminding him that I was a new slave who did not know the streets of the city, and that my small profit was excusable. In future, she insisted, I would surely be able to earn the twenty aspres a day just as well as the old and experienced slaves did who had their regular routes and knew the streets well.
They finally untied me then, and, after I had rendered proper reverence to my owner and master, Oge Ali, I was sent to join the other slaves, who were in a small gallery in the vestibule of the house. When I got there, limping, the other slaves who sold water laughed at me instead of consoling me, for they had learned that I had only been able to make twelve aspres, while they were obliged to pay each evening twenty-four, which they did easily.
Our meal that evening was hard bread and a few spoonfuls of a soup made from boiled camel meat. I had just started to close my eyes, when I received a message from the oldest of the slaves that Oge Ali was ordering me to go with some others of his slaves to wield a chappe (a type of pickaxe) and plow the soil at his macerie, or estate, outside the city, and that if I was not more successful in tending his garden than I had been in selling water, I would be sent to the galleys.
These new orders made it difficult for me to sleep, for I was very anxious about what might happen to me.
Early the next morning, I and the three plowing mates each took up a chappe, along with the bread intended for our food for that day, and walked out through the city gate called Bab-el-Oued at the north end of the city, from which a road led out into the countryside. Oge Ali’s macerie was a quarter of a league from his house, near the sea. It consisted of a sort of country house, fairly well built, located in the middle of a garden dotted with a quantity of fountains. The best comparison for it I can think of is a country house outside Marseilles.
We set to work immediately upon arriving, but no matter how I tried, my job was neither well done nor progressed like that of my fellow workers. As the sun was starting to go down, Oge Ali arrived, either on purpose to surprise us, or simply because he was out for a walk, for the countryside around there was, I must admit, among the most beautiful I have ever seen, with the endless horizon of the sea that it provided, along with and the long alleys of lemon trees and charming orange trees and the pleasant odor they exuded.
Oge Ali noted well the trouble I was having and my obvious inexperience in this manual trade. I concentrated as hard as I could on the handling of my chappe, since I was afraid that he would suspect something of my birth because of my ineptitude.
A short time after his arrival, the sunset giving us the freedom to retire, Oge Ali led the four of us back to town, questioning us one after the other and pointing to the ships that were anchored in the bay. On entering the city, we were carefully observed by the soldiers in the Bab-el-Oued guardhouse.
I endured the fatigue of cultivating the earth for another five or six days, until I found myself so exhausted that I could hardly put one foot in front of the other. Besides, the terrible heat of the place had caused a rash to break out all over my body, which made me incapable of doing anything except very slowly. Added to this was the vexation of my fellow workers, who did not want me working confusedly in the same place as they.
Informed of my incompetence, Oge Ali appeared and recommenced his threats and reproaches and reiterated his expectation of getting a good ransom for me. He said disgustedly that unless I was of noble birth or had some sort of skilled profession, it would have been impossible for me to have remained alive and in good health until the time I was captured. I continued to insist that his claims about me were groundless. More importantly, I practiced restraint and concealment with the other slaves when we were together for fear that guesswork based on their report and observation might give me away.
After a time, I adjusted to the manual work and no longer suffered from sorrow and fatigue quite so much, having reached a point where my body and mind no longer felt tormented. I also began to be less worried about Oge Ali’s interrogations, which seemed to be lessening.
And then one day, to my surprise, a negress (she was a slave from Angola or Guinea) brought me refreshments from Oge Ali consisting of local delicacies, including honey, manteca (Spanish fried butter), and a cake composed of lupines, almonds, honey and milk. She gave me all this and instructed me to take it to the macerie house and sleep there until further notice.
This sudden change of employment relived me, but it also puzzled me greatly, since I did not understand Oge Ali’s intentions. I waited for the negress to leave and then conferred with one of the other slaves, a Portuguese man whom I trusted more than the others, who were English, Flemish, Sicilian, Mallorquin, and Spanish. I learned from this slave that Oge Ali was to place me in charge of some negresses, fifteen or sixteen of whom he kept out at the macerie.
The Portuguese slave further informed me that Oge Ali kept the negresses there in order to produce mulattos, that is, children of mixed race, white and black. From time to time, he chose from among his slaves some of the whiter and more vigorous ones to impregnate the negresses. He carried on this business through correspondents in Alexandria and Constantinople, where he sold these mulatto children. From this, he made a large part of his main income.
Such was to be my new occupation.
__________
For the next installment of René du Chastelet des Boys’ adventures, see The Odyssey of René du Chastelet des Boys – Part 7.
For those who may be interested…
The above excerpt (which, as usual, has been abridged) comes from des Boys’ L’Odyssée ou diversité d’aventures, rencontres et voyages en Europe, Asie et Affrique, pp. 49 – 52.
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