(This post is a continuation of The Odyssey of René du Chastelet des Boys – Parts 1 through 6. 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 just learned that, from time to time, his owner, Oge Ali, chooses from among his slaves the “whiter and more vigorous ones” to sleep with some enslaved African women Oge Ali owns in order to produce mulatto (mixed-race) children whom Oge Ali would eventually sell for profit in the slave markets in Alexandria and Constantinople. Moreover, Oge Ali had chosen des Boys for this task.
Night passed, and the next morning, a large black eunuch came to fetch me at the macerie cottage where I had been sleeping. He carried with him some provisions, and a long drum on which he beat loudly—this being apparently his idea of a pleasant way to awaken me. I got up and dressed myself and went out, escorted by Mustapha (for such was this ugly black eunuch’s name). He continued pounding on his drum throughout our journey until we reached another house nearby. Barely had the door to this dwelling opened when I found myself surrounded by a whole troop of dark bodies.
I tried to turn and slip away, but the eunuch pushed me forward, redoubled his drumming, and cried out in a loud voice: “Barca, Maria, Fatima, Israëlita…” the names of the black angels who appeared at the door of Oge Alli’s earthly paradise.
After saying a quick word or two to them, Mustapha closed the door behind me, having left the supplies he had brought, along with a bottle of date brandy. The next day, and the next, and other days thereafter, he brought more supplies, and, morning and evening, never failed to give us loud serenades on his drum. After six days, the door was opened, and, after he had private conference with each of the negresses to ascertain that they were satisfied, he returned me to the city and to my master, Oge Ali.
Fatima and Barca each gave me a tobacco snuffbox, which I carried back with me.
Having been returned to Oge Ali’s household in the city, I now found myself left entirely alone, with no set tasks to accomplish and nobody to talk with. I grew progressively unhappy with my lot, and eventually began searching for expedients by which I might free myself from my onerous master. Eventually, I settled upon the idea that if I were to counterfeit being an epileptic, Oge Ali would decide to put me up for sale.
Accordingly, I procured a small vial in which I mixed blood from my nose with liquid soap scum and charcoal and then waited for my master as he was returning from prayers. When I saw him coming from the mosque, I covered my stomach with the bloodied foam and lay down at the entrance to the hallway of the house just a few moments before Oge Ali entered through the doorway. I executed my little charade with such great skill that my master was shocked and dared not to enter. He waited for a slave to rouse me and demand what had happened to me. I pretended to come back groggily, as from a slumber. After all of them questioned me persistently, I pretended to be ashamed to admit to them that my illness was very extraordinary, and that sometimes for as much as three months I would not experience an attack, but that at other times I was tormented four or five times a moon (for so they counted their months).
The very next morning, I was led to the public baths, and was there well washed and shaved. I was then led to a Jewish second-hand shop where I was bought the sort of clothing a Flemish sailor would wear. The next day, at the slave market, after some bidding, a local Arab bought me and put me in the hands of his sister, Fatima, the widow of a Flemish renegade, for whom he had purchased me.
I then entered Fatima’s service—after first kissing the back of her right hand, according to the required ceremony. She made me responsible for the chores needed to keep her household going. She had no slave other than a negress, for she was not very wealthy, being just the widow of a Flemish renegade who had been a ship’s carpenter. She was also neither so young, nor so well made as the wife of Oge Ali, whose house I had just left.
The tasks she assigned me were neither very rigorous nor very difficult, and the negress did her fair share, so that we lived together in reasonable harmony. My ordinary task was to fetch water from the nearby fountain to be used in the house, and, for the rest of the day, to carry around in my arms a small child of two to three years of age. In the afternoons, I followed my mistress to the door of the public baths, where, once she had received linens, depilatories, and other necessary things from me, she kept me waiting at the entrance until she was done, after which I accompanied her back to the house.
Such public baths are very common and convenient in Algiers. They are necessary both because of the great heat of the country and the scarcity of decent clothing. Men go to these baths in the morning; women go in the afternoon. For the women, these necessary and pleasant places were a retreat where they could indulge in libertinage, for in the baths they were not watched over, as they always were elsewhere, and they could spend time there both with their friends and with certain other friends in disguise.
Men are forbidden, under penalty of death, to enter these public baths in the afternoon, when the women are there. Therefore, the men cannot surprise them, nor come upon them—unless the women concur in it. I followed Fatima to the baths, carrying the linen, ointments, and other necessities, and, as I said, waited at the door for her. On one occasion, she called me inside to render her some service. The other women with her questioned her loudly about my trade and profession, asking her how much she had paid for me. Once she told them the price, they smiled and said she had made a good bargain.
When we were back in her house again, Fatima asked me if I were to have a change of owners, which one of the women who had inquired about me I would like the most as a new mistress. To this, I responded that if there were any pleasure in slavery, it was in having a reasonable owner like her.
To this, she said that when she looked at me she couldn’t help but recall memories of her late husband.
Such an intimation embarrassed and somewhat unnerved me. I tried to convince her that I was in fact a sailor, and that if she were to send me away to sea I would gain for her a considerable amount of money. She, however, remained unconvinced.
And so matters stood for some time.
__________
For the next installment of René du Chastelet des Boys’ adventures, see The Odyssey of René du Chastelet des Boys – Part 8.
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. 53 – 57.
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