History[ edit ] In the problem of Berber piracy and slave-taking was so great that the Trinitarians , a religious order, were founded to collect ransoms and even to exchange themselves as ransom for those captured and pressed into slavery in North Africa. In the 14th century Tunisian corsairs became enough of a threat to provoke a Franco-Genoese attack on Mahdia in , also known as the " Barbary Crusade ". Morisco exiles of the Reconquista and Maghreb pirates added to the numbers, but it was not until the expansion of the Ottoman Empire and the arrival of the privateer and admiral Kemal Reis in that the Barbary corsairs became a true menace to shipping from European Christian nations. But, on December 20, , Sultan Mohammed III of Morocco issued a declaration recognizing America as an independent country, and that American merchant ships could enjoy safe passage into the Mediterranean and along the coast.
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Copyright Allan Aldiss Downloaded from www. But inevitably the printed version had to be heavily censored. Allan Aldiss has now January taken advantage of the freedom of the Internet to restore and expand the original version into two books, one the sequel of the other.
Here therefore is the expanded and unexpurgated version of this popular and highly erotic story of a young Englishwoman in Turkey at the turn of the 19th and 20th Centuries. This is the unexpurgated story of life as a white slavegirl in the Ottoman Empire; a story of innocent and educated European women, including a mother and daughter, enslaved and used for pleasure and forced breeding; a story of slave training, of female circumcision, of slave dealers, of cruel overseers, and of strict black eunuchs - and all in a world where white women slaves are ruled by fear of the cane, the whip and the bastinado.
Please accept that this is simply a reflection of actual attitudes in Turkey a hundred years ago. Black eunuchs had been employed to take charge of the harems of the ruling officials and of the wealthy for hundreds of years - mainly because they were black.
White eunuchs were not normally employed in harems because experience had shown that they were too easy-going. Black eunuchs were not. She had been up since dawn, watching as they slowly approached the little port of Malik, with its low white buildings interspersed with the domes and minarets of mosques. Already she fancied she could smell that distinctive odor of an Oriental town. It was early morning and as usual the warm sun was already bright, reflecting vividly off the mirror-like surface of the crystal clear Mediterranean - it was springtime in the Levant at the turn of the century.
Indeed, the very fact that she was a pretty European girl had marked her as unique ever since she had come aboard at Smyrna to take passage along the beautiful, wild and mountainous southern coast of Turkey to this little known port, close to where the northern border of Syria now lies.
As they turned past the breakwater and maneuvered to moor stern-on to the quay, she looked anxiously amongst the watching crowd. There were Arabs, some wearing simple robes and greasy strips of cloth wound round their heads, others, obviously of a superior class, wearing immaculate white kaftans under black flowing cloaks, picked out with gold thread, with white kuffayiah head cloths and black aighal headbands. She saw women completely covered in long black shapeless burkas that gave no inkling of the age or beauty of the woman underneath it, and provided her only with a strip of black lace, over the eyes, to see through.
Other women wore an opaque white veil over their faces that left their eyes uncovered. But there was no sign of William. She had been thrilled by his talk of wealthy Beys and Pashas, of Sheiks and Caids, of camels and beautiful Arab horses, of harems and of black eunuchs, of deserts and snow covered mountains, of raids and revolts against the rule of the autocratic Turkish Sultan in Constantinople, of fierce Moslem fanatics and their despised Christian subjects, of the crisp dry air and of the distinctive smells and scents of the Near East.
They had become secretly engaged before he returned to Turkey to carry on with his excavations in the Syrian Desert. Then the aunt she lived with had died. The house would have to be sold to pay outstanding debts, and there would be little left. Become a governess! With her vivacious character and her romantic leanings, such an idea was abhorrent. But what was she to do? To whom could she turn? Obviously this was the moment for William Lascelles to have appeared and taken charge of her life.
But he was away somewhere in Turkey! Suddenly and impetuously she had decided that she would go and join him. There was nothing now to keep her in England. It was now or never! She must act quickly whilst she at least had some money, or see it all frittered away.
Driving her on was the terrifying thought that William would hardly be keen on marrying a governess! Without telling anyone - and indeed who was there to tell? From Marseilles she had taken ship to Athens, and from there, another ship to Smyrna, and then this small coaster to Malik, the small Turkish port where William had his base.
It had all been so exciting! Traveling alone across Europe and the Mediterranean! How her aunt would have disapproved! But now she had arrived, and where was William? A feeling of despair and anti- climax began to creep over her as she scanned the jetty in vain.
She began to feel perhaps that she had been very foolish in rushing out here. At the back of her mind was the realization that she now had very little money left. And yet, she had to admit, it was very exciting - even more exciting than William had described.
She inhaled the strange smells of the Levant. She saw trains of camels being led down a narrow street. She saw dirty-looking Arabs riding flea-ridden donkeys. She saw well dressed Turkish gentlemen in immaculate European suits being driven in smart carriages by Negro grooms behind a pair of beautiful matched horses. She saw two veiled women, half walking, half running, alongside a well-dressed man riding a beautifully harnessed mule.
Instantly her English up bringing made her rebel against the sight. Why were the women not riding and the man walking? She saw other women walking respectfully behind men, carrying parcels and loads, whilst the men smoked long Turkish cigarettes and chatted amongst themselves.
It was not right! Were these women concubines or slavegirls? Jealously she watched the other passengers being greeted by their friends and relations. She felt very alone and rather frightened, alone in a strange land whose language and even whose alphabet she did not understand.
Thank heavens so many of the more educated Turks spoke a little French, as she did. Schoolgirl French! Little had she thought that she would be using it in the Levant. She waited on board for an hour in the warm spring sunshine. The ship would soon be leaving for its next port of call.
No doubt, she thought, he would be waiting for her there, not knowing on which boat she would be arriving. The friendly Turkish ghari driver loaded her two suitcases. She saw that the men on the quayside were looking at her strangely. Clearly the sight of a lone, unveiled, European woman was rarity in Malik. The cab drove through narrow streets, crowded with people and animals, before coming out onto a wide boulevard lined with high palm trees.
Spacious looking houses, the windows covered in Arabesque stone tracery or ironwork grilles, could just be seen over high walls. Then they arrived in the courtyard of the Hotel de Paris. The Greek booking clerk was courteous but firm. He had left two weeks previously to explore some remote Roman remains deep in the desert. He was not expected back for some time, perhaps a month, perhaps longer.
No, he had no idea just where he was doing excavations, for M. Lascelles always kept that secret. He showed Jane her own telegram and letter announcing her arrival - still sitting in a pigeon-hole, unopened, behind the reception desk of the hotel.
What am I going to do? The smile on the face of the Greek clerk froze. Did Mr Lascelles know anyone in Malik? Does he live near here? Of course we all know Zaid Pasha! Explain what has happened. And if you will be so kind as to accept the hospitality of this humble hotel meanwhile. Our best room! What sort of a man was he?
How would he react to her message, asking for his assistance? A Pasha! Even the title sounded exciting. She remembered that William had told her about the Pasha of Acre, a man with an impossible name, who had held up Napoleon not far from here.
She suddenly remembered his name: Djezzar Pasha. His personality and leadership had played a key role in inspiring the handful of Turkish and Arab troops to perform miracles of endurance. Backed by the small British force they had beaten off the cream of the French Army. People still talked of Djezzar Pasha, William said.
But, he had added with a laugh, one of the main reasons why his troops so respected him was that, even in his sixties, he was still known to have eighteen white European women in his harem, as well Related.
Aldiss, Allan - Barbary Pasha (White Slave Girl In Turkey) Book ONE & TWO
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