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A COLLABORATIVE RESCUE ARCHAEOLOGICAL AND HISTORICAL INVESTIGATION OF TÉTOUAN’S MAZMORRAS, MOROCCO

ROBERT S. HUSSEY

A DISSERTATION PRESENTED TO THE GRADUATE SCHOOL OF THE UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA

2017

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to thank my chair, Peter Schmidt, for his endless support, as well as the members of my committee, Drs. Abderahmane Azennoud, Florin Curta, Robert Davis, James

Davidson, and Susan deFrance. I am also eternally grateful to Medhi Zouak for his trust in my capabilities to complete this research project. I would like to thank both Jim Miller and Karima

Elbaz at the Moroccan-American Commission for Educational and Cultural Exchange

(MACECE) for their great advice and endless help in Morocco. This dissertation was funded by a Fulbright-Hays – Doctoral Dissertation Research Abroad Fellowship, Graduate School

Doctoral Research Travel Award, Charles H. Fairbanks Award (Department of Anthropology), and Graduate School Doctoral Dissertation Award. Lastly, I would like to thank my parents,

Arianne, and the rest of my family for their support throughout the long process of researching and writing this dissertation.

TABLE OF CONTENTS page

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ...... 3

LIST OF TABLES ...... 7

LIST OF FIGURES ...... 8

ABSTRACT ...... 10

CHAPTER

1 INTRODUCTION ...... 12

Research Goals ...... 13 Dissertation Overview ...... 14

2 THE DEVELOPMENT OF CHRISTIAN SLAVERY NETWORKS IN THE EARLY MODERN MEDITERRANEAN...... 17

The Frontier During and Beyond the Reconquista ...... 19 Reconquista ...... 20 The Iberio-Maghrebi Frontier ...... 21 Tétouan as Part of a New Islamo-Christian Frontier ...... 25 Barbary Piracy in the Early Modern Mediterranean ...... 28 First Phase (1490–1570): The Expansion of Ottoman Naval Power ...... 28 Second Phase (1571–1609): The Rise of Corsairing ...... 30 Third Phase (1610–1640): The Golden Age ...... 32 Fourth Phase (1641–1800): The Decline ...... 35 The Mazmorras (Dungeons) of Tétouan ...... 36 Ransoming Captives and Slaves from Tétouan ...... 37 Concluding Remarks ...... 39

3 DEFINING SERVITUDE IN EARLY MODERN SPAIN AND FRANCE ...... 41

Use of the Terms “Captives” and “Slaves” in Scholarly Sources ...... 41 Defining Christian Slaves ...... 43 Defining Christian Captives ...... 44 The Semantics of Captives and Slaves ...... 49 Colonialism, Slavery, and Freedom...... 56 Concluding Remarks ...... 57

4 A LESSON IN MOROCCAN COMMUNICATION ...... 60

Discovering the Need for Intermediaries ...... 61 Panoramic Possibilities at Habs Kara ...... 64 The Prison of Meknes ...... 65

The Cultural Nature of Negotiations and Communication ...... 69 The Shortcomings of Habs Kara ...... 74

5 A JOURNEY OF DISCOVERY: FROM MEKNES TO TÉTOUAN ...... 76

(Re)discovering Tétouan ...... 76 Plan B...... 78 From Meknes to Tétouan ...... 80 Arrival at Tétouan ...... 83

6 DIGITAL HERITAGE AND THE COLLABORATION CONTINUUM ...... 89

The Collaboration Continuum ...... 90 Time and Collaboration ...... 91 Digital Heritage and Early Plans ...... 92 Panoramic Methods and Virtual Tours ...... 94 The Participation Stage of Collaboration ...... 95 Americanness and Reciprocity ...... 97 Morocco and Time ...... 101 Limited Access to the Mazmorras ...... 102 Creating the Panorama Based Virtual Tour ...... 105 Digital Heritage and Mutuality ...... 108 Concluding Remarks ...... 117

7 A HISTORICAL EXAMINATION OF TÉTOUAN’S MAZMORRAS ...... 118

Bagnos and Mazmorras ...... 118 Capacity, Mazmorras, and Bagnos ...... 120 Structural Change and Bagnos ...... 122 Structural Change and the Mazmorras ...... 124 Accounts from Father José Tamayo and Emanuel d’Aranda ...... 127 The Changing Interior ...... 130 César Luis de Montalbán y de Mazas ...... 131 Unanswered Questions ...... 139

8 ARCHAEOLOGICAL EXCAVATIONS OF TÉTOUAN’S MAZMORRAS ...... 142

Safety Precautions ...... 143 Digital Preservation of the Mazmorras ...... 144 Surface Survey ...... 146 Excavation Units ...... 149 Test Unit 1 ...... 152 Test Unit 2 ...... 155 Test Unit 3 ...... 158 Test Unit 4 ...... 161 Test Unit 5 ...... 163 Test Unit 6 ...... 164 Test Unit 7 ...... 166

Excavation Unit 1 ...... 168 Excavation Unit 2 ...... 171 Vessel Analysis ...... 172 Discussion ...... 178 Digital Preservation ...... 178 Subsurface Site Formation and Vertical Limits ...... 180 Ascertaining Historical Sources from Archaeological Survey and Excavations ...... 182 Areas to Display and Areas to Protect ...... 194

9 DISCUSSION ...... 198

Document the Occupation and Use of the Mazmorras ...... 199 Verify the Accuracy and Veracity of Primary Source Accounts ...... 199 Contribute to the Debate on Christian Slavery and Captivity in North Africa ...... 200 Form Long-Lasting Relationships in Tétouan ...... 202 Limitations and Significance ...... 202 Future Directions ...... 203

APPENDIX

A TRANSCRIPTION OF CODICE 125: SPANIARDS DESCRIBED AS “ESCLAVOS” ...205

B TRANSCRIPTION OF CODICE 125: SPANIARDS DESCRIBED AS “CAUTIVOS” ...240

C TRANSCRIPTION OF CODICE 125: OWNERS OF RANSOMED SPANIARDS DESCRIBED AS “SU PATRON” ...... 247

D ARTIFACT TYPES AND COUNTS OF THE 2013 MATAMAR EXCAVATIONS ...... 249

LIST OF REFERENCES ...... 275

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH ...... 285

LIST OF TABLES

Table page

2-1 Numbers of captives rescued from North Africa between 1523 and 1692...... 33

7-1 Annotation of the map of the Mazmorras...... 137

7-2 Cataloged artifacts retrieved by Montalbán and displayed in Tétouan’s archaeological museum in the late 1920s ...... 138

8-1 Radiocarbon sample for Test Unit 1...... 155

8-2 Radiocarbon sample for Test Unit 3...... 161

D-1 Artifacts from the 2013 excavations of the Mazmorras...... 250

LIST OF FIGURES

Figure page

2-1 Map of Spain and the Maghreb...... 22

2-2 Map of Tétouan, Ceuta, Tangier, and Gibraltar...... 26

4-1 Possible excavation unit at Habs Kara, in Meknes, Morocco, 2009...... 66

4-2 Green ceiling tiles from Koubbat as-Sufara (Ambassadors' Pavilion)...... 67

4-3 The Koubba al Khayatine and the surface over Habs Kara, in 2007...... 67

4-4 The Koubba al Khayatine and the surface over Habs Kara, in 2009...... 68

4-5 Habs Kara in 2009...... 68

4-6 Habs Kara in 2013...... 69

5-1 Drawings of the interior of the Mazmorras...... 81

5-2 Limestone outcropping, Tétouan, Morocco ...... 84

5-3 Boarded off cave entrance, Tétouan, Morocco...... 84

5-4 Entrance to the Mazmorras on El Mtamar Street,Tétouan, Morocco...... 87

6-1 Opening the door to the Mazmorras...... 103

6-2 Entrance to the Mazmorras...... 104

7-1 Drawings of the interior of the Mazmorras...... 133

7-2 Map of the Tétouan’s Mazmorras...... 134

8-1 Superposition of the Ben Marzouk Riad over Tétouan’s Mazmorras...... 148

8-2 Modern-era Zellij tiles found in the Ben Marzouk Riad, above the Mazmorras...... 149

8-3 Location of Test Units and Excavation Units within the Mazmorras...... 150

8-4 Top plan of Test Unit 1, facing A-North...... 154

8-5 Top plan of Test Unit 3, facing A-North...... 160

8-6 Top plan of Test Unit 4, facing A-North...... 162

8-7 Profile of west wall of Test Unit 6...... 165

8-8 Mid-18th century British tobacco pipe...... 167

8-9 Mid-18th century British tobacco pipe with the Royal coat of arms of the United Kingdom (House of Hanover) on the rear of the bowl...... 168

8-10 Brickwork recessed into limestone, facing A-SE, in Excavation Unit 1...... 169

8-11 Profile of Pot 1...... 173

8-12 Profile of Pot 2...... 174

8-13 Profile of Pot 17...... 176

8-14 Profile of Pot 20...... 177

8-15 Map showing the surface elevation of the Mazmorras before excavation ...... 181

8-16 Group of Zellij, Tunisian Quallaline, and Spanish Renaissance tiles found on a ledge, in Location 12...... 186

8-1 Tunisian Qallaline tiles on the facade of the mausoleum of Sidi Sa'idi, in the medina of Tétouan...... 187

8-18 Nail in the niche of the “high altar” ...... 188

8-19 Group of tiles at the “high altar”...... 189

8-20 Moroccan crew adding structural supports to the central partition of the Mazmorras ....195

8-21 Map of the Mazmorras showing the area to be protected...... 196

Abstract of Dissertation Presented to the Graduate School of the University of Florida in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy

A COLLABORATIVE RESCUE ARCHAEOLOGICAL AND HISTORICAL INVESTIGATION OF TÉTOUAN’S MAZMORRAS, MOROCCO

Robert S. Hussey

August 2017

Chair: Peter R. Schmidt Major: Anthropology

The treatment of European Christians held in servitude in Early Modern North Africa continues to be the subject of contention among historians. Robert Davis (2001, 2003) argues that, out of the million or so Christians brought to North Africa between 1530 and 1780, most were never ransomed and died as slaves. Nabil Matar (2014) questions both the primary sources and Davis’ claims, in part, because of an absence of corroborating structural evidence. Physical evidence is rare, likely destroyed by time and urban expansion. One of the few sites, if not the only one, to remain is a subterranean dungeon for European Christians in Northern Morocco: the

Mazmorras of Tétouan.

This dissertation examines the use and occupation of Tétouan’s Mazmorras as dungeon to imprison European Christians and its position within networks of capture and ransom in the

Early Modern Mediterranean. My project uses historical research, archaeological excavations, and a collaborative approach to gain access, digitally preserve, and execute a historically- informed archaeological plan of the Mazmorras. Redemptive accounts from Spanish archives helped to address the scholarly debate on the collective treatment of Christians as either slaves or captives. They also allowed me to document the small-scale networks of redemption and trade between Spain to Tétouan. Through an autoethnography, I describe how meeting the needs of

Moroccan authorities and scholars fostered a relationship of mutuality, reciprocity, and collaboration with local stakeholders. This collaboration was essential to the inclusion of an archaeological project to the rehabilitation plan of this structurally unsound site. Architectural and archaeological evidence supported several Early Modern primary source accounts of

Tétouan’s Mazmorras. As described in some accounts, I identified several Christian sacred spaces in the dungeons in the form of altars and a chapel. The ceramic analysis suggested the use of simple pottery for everyday use, as one would expect for imprisoned captives. The chapel and well area of the Mazmorras was likely added to the dungeons after 1750. Finally, I identified several areas to protect during restoration, including sacred spaces, undisturbed strata, and areas of high artifact densities that should be investigated in the future.

CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION

Scholarly research on European Christians held in bondage in North Africa during the

Early Modern period (1500-1800) falls within the near exclusive purview of text-based research.

Debates on whether the treatment of Christian slaves merits the label “captivity” or “slavery” rely on historical sources with no support from archaeological research. For example, Robert

Davis’ historical research (2001, 2003) shows that between a million and a million and a quarter

European Christians were brought to North Africa between 1530 and 1780; most of these people were never ransomed and died as slaves. Davis points out that, during the height of slaving activities in the mid-17th century, bagnos, or slave quarters, sprung up along the North African coast. However, these sites did not survive intact to the present day. Time and urban expansion destroyed these bagnos (Davis 2003:135), and with them, so too went physical evidence for the capture, ransom, and enslavement of European Christians.

The absence of material support for text-based research on Christian slavery can cast doubt on the primary sources. In other words, the lack of corroboration between physical evidence and historical texts opens the door to question the authenticity and/or veracity of the texts themselves. Linda Colley, in Captives: Britain, Empire, and the World, 1600-1850, suggests that the historical accounts are “bound to be distorted to some degree” (2007:91).

Daniel Vitkus (2010:7) offers a more substantive criticism of captivity narratives, suggesting that these texts were politicized documents that were almost never truly accurate (2010:5–7). He adds that Davis’ estimates are inflated because he uses European primary source documents as empirical evidence, rather than contextualizing them as exaggerated documents that cannot be taken at face value. Nabil Matar (2014) builds on this sentiment by noting the startling absence of structural support for Davis’ estimates. He questions how these estimates can be true if there

is no physical evidence for the detention of large quantities of Christian slaves in North Africa

(2014:11).

Although time and urban growth may have destroyed above-ground bagnos, underground prisons, or mazmorras, may have remained intact until the present day. Primary accounts documenting the capture and ransom of Christians mention the existence of these sites along the coast of North Africa. A review of historical documents revealed the presence of a subterranean dungeon for European Christians in Northern Morocco: the Mazmorras of Tétouan.

Research Goals

This dissertation is part of a collaborative heritage management project on a structurally unsound but well-preserved subterranean dungeon associated with Christian slavery in North

Africa, the Mazmorras of Tétouan, Morocco. After the Reconquista (718–1492), the interfaith frontier between Christians on one side and Muslims and Jews on the other moved from Iberia to

North Africa. The location of Tétouan on the edge of this frontier made it ideal to study the role of the city in the networks of capture and ransom in which all three religious groups took part during the Early Modern period. To examine this topic, I conducted in 2013 archaeological excavations in Tétouan’s Mazmorras, one of the only known dungeons where Christian captives were held from the 16th to 18th centuries. To supplement the archaeological data, I acquired thousands of pages of primary historical sources from several Spanish archives in 2014. These accounts describe the redemption of Christian slaves by religious orders.

Aside archaeological and historical goals, this study also examines the difficulties of locating an archaeological site associated with Christian slavery and gaining access to the site once it was found. Collaboration with Moroccan authorities and scholars was central to this process, which involved resolving cultural differences that influenced my dealing with collaborators. Cooperation was also essential to creating a cultural resource management plan to

preserve the Mazmorras. This included archaeological excavations, architectural stabilization of the structure of the dungeons, and digital methods of preservation.

Central to this dissertation is the question: Are Tétouan’s Mazmorras a site for Christian captives and slaves? I will explore this question with several research goals: 1) document the occupation and use of Tétouan’s Mazmorras; 2) assess the accuracy and veracity of primary source accounts describing the networks of ransom of Christian captives as well as life inside the

Mazmorras; 3) contribute to the academic debate on Christian slavery and captivity in North

Africa; 4) develop a heritage management plan to preserve the Mazmorras; and 5) form long- lasting relationships with collaborators in Tétouan.

The lack of archaeological evidence for Christian prisons in North Africa raised doubt on the integrity of primary source accounts. This study on Tétouan’s Mazmorras is the first to provide archaeological support for the existence of these sites. This research also contributes to documenting one expression of Iberio-Maghrebi relations during the Early Modern period, that is, the small-scale networks of enslavement and ransom of captives in which Tétouan participated. Finally, it highlights the importance of situating one’s research in its historical context, because this topic would not be fully understood if considered outside the ever-changing frontier of the Iberio-Maghrebi space.

Dissertation Overview

The introduction of my dissertation offers a brief overview of the goals and significance of this research. The second chapter provides a historical background on Christian slavery within the Iberio-Maghrebi space. It also outlines Tétouan’s ties to the Reconquista—the historical process where Iberian Christian kingdoms fought for peninsular control from Muslim rule—and its role in the networks of capture and ransom of Christians during the Early Modern period. The third chapter offers a critical view of the scholarly debate on the presumed nature of European

bondage in North Africa and the treatment of Christian slaves as “captives,” “prisoners,” and

“slaves.” This chapter also shows how an emic approach can resolve this scholarly contention on the presumed nature of servitude for people imprisoned in Tetouan’s Mazmorras.

Chapters 4 to 6 take the form of an autoethnography describing the steps of finding a viable research site in North Africa, understanding collaboration and reciprocity within a

Moroccan context, developing a reciprocal and collaborative relationship with local authorities, and preserving the Mazmorras through digital and traditional methods of heritage management.

An autoethnography is a qualitative research method combining both elements of etho (culture) and auto (self) (Ellis 2004:31). This perspective rejects the idea of neutrality and “objective observer position” in ethnographic research (Reed-Danahay 1997:2). It aims to depart from the ontological problems central to the practice of “objective” social science, which can reproduce colonialist models of authority and knowledge. Instead, it privileges a reflexive approach that turns the ethnographic lens back on to the author to present an account of experiences situated in what Geertz (1973) describes as a thick description of culture. The purpose of this “thick description” is to help communicate culture to both insiders and outsiders by making them relate to the ethnographer’s experience. The writing of the autoethnography also allows the author to be aware of his own limitations and biases.

Chapter 4 describes the process and hardship of finding an archaeological site associated with Christian slavery in North Africa while in the United States. This chapter emphasizes the process that led to the discovery of two important themes of this dissertation: collaboration and digital heritage. In the fifth chapter, I explain how a combination of ethnographic tools, previous historical research, and luck helped me find a sealed archaeological site with great potential, the

Mazmorras of Tétouan. This chapter emphasizes how reconsidering the Early Modern Western

Mediterranean within the context of Iberio-Maghrebi relations revealed cultural connections on

Christian slavery that would otherwise be ignored. Chapter 6 discusses the roles of digital heritage and reciprocity in the creation of collaborative relationships essential for the heritage management of Tétouan’s Mazmorras. Digital heritage complimented perceptions of

Americanness and acted as a catalyst to both encourage reciprocity and to meet needs of

Moroccan collaborators.

Chapters 7 and 8 form the core of the historical and archaeological research on the

Mazmorras. The seventh chapter examines the primary and secondary source historical accounts that informed archaeological excavations inside of Tétouan’s Mazmorras. It also reviews the historical source accounts that illustrate the occupation and use of the Mazmorras. It highlights questions left unresolved by the accounts. Chapter 8 presents the results of my archaeological fieldwork, including radiocarbon dating and ceramic analysis. It reports on subsurface site formation processes, the identification of sacred space inside the dungeons, use of the interior space, and structural changes. It also verifies the accuracy and veracity of the historical sources documenting the Mazmorras.

The last chapter summarizes the findings of this research and relates them to the objectives outlined in the introduction. It also presents limitations of the present study and suggestions for future research. This includes the creation of a multilingual and interactive online museum that will make my research available to a wider audience and help preserve the

Mazmorras.

CHAPTER 2 THE DEVELOPMENT OF CHRISTIAN SLAVERY NETWORKS IN THE EARLY MODERN MEDITERRANEAN

Africa begins at the Pyrenees.

― Attributed to Napoleon or Alexandre Dumas

C'est une erreur de la géographie que d'avoir attribué l'Espagne à l'Europe; elle appartient à l'Afrique: sang, mœurs, langage, manière de vivre et de combattre; en Espagne tout est africain. Les deux nations ont été mêlées trop longtemps, les Carthaginois venus d'Afrique en Espagne, les Vandales passés d'Espagne en Afrique, les Maures séjournant en Espagne pendant 700 ans, pour qu'une aussi longue cohabitation, pour que ces transfusions de peuples et de coutumes n'aient pas confondu ensemble les races et les mœurs des deux contrées. Si l'Espagnol était Mahométan, il serait un Africain complet; c'est la religion qui l'a conservé à l'Europe.1

― de Pradt (1816:168)

In the early 20th century, outside of the French scholarly debate between Henri Pirenne and Ferdinand Braudel’s vision of the Mediterranean magnum, existed an enduring and colloquial invective of their Westerly Iberian neighbors as not quite European. Iberian language and culture were considered “different.” While Braudel’s (1995) concept of the Mediterranean as an aqueous cultural conduit was widely influential to 20th century historians, the notion of the

Straits of Gibraltar as separating different worlds persisted. The human links connecting the terrestrial space on both sides of the Alboran Sea remained understudied. For instance, in 1978

Andrew Hess notes in his aptly-titled book, The Forgotten Frontier, that research on Iberio-

Maghrebi space was sparse. Several decades later, Liang and colleagues (2013:18) lamented that while Iberia and Morocco have been portrayed as outliers of their respective Christian and

1 It is an error of geography to have assigned Spain to Europe; it belongs to Africa: blood, manners, language, the way of life and making war, in Spain everything is African. The two nations have been mixed up for too long--the Carthaginians who came from Africa to Spain, the Vandals who left Spain for Africa, the Moors who stayed in Spain for 700 years—for such a long cohabitation not to have confused the race and customs of the two countries. If the Spaniard were Mohammedan, he would be completely African; it is religion that has kept it in Europe.

Islamic metropoles, few scholars have explored the connections that joined together the Iberian

Peninsula and the Maghreb.

One of the structural features that highlight the enduring connections between Iberia and the Maghreb are the networks of capture, ransom, and enslavement of the religious other. I contend that a scholarly examination of Early Modern captivity and slavery in the Western

Mediterranean reveals an Iberio-Maghrebi frontier in North Africa. In this chapter, I examine how these networks of capture and ransom of Christians reveal layered and permeable frontiers that join the Maghreb and Iberian Peninsula. I demonstrate how these ties were firmly rooted in the Medieval period. I also consider how these connections played an important part in the history of Tétouan, Morocco, a city both enmeshed in post-Reconquista Iberio-Maghrebi interfaith relations and involved in the capture and ransom of Christians in the Early Modern period.

Although captivity and slavery occurred on both the northern and southern shores of the

Mediterranean with both Muslims and Christians, this study focuses on the capture and ransom of Christians. One reason for this focus is this dissertation’s focus on the city of Tétouan and

Tétouan’s Mazmorras. Another reason is from the primary sources. Archival documents for ransoming actions mainly came from European Christian sources for the ransom of European

Christians. In particular, the archives in Spain are well organized, accessible, and contain detailed information for the redemption of captives in North Africa, including those held in

Tétouan.

While standard time periods are helpful tools to categorize the past, research into the

Iberio-Maghrebi region needs to encompass both the medieval and the Early Modern periods.

Though this study considers the Early Modern period, the context of the political changes

directly affecting the rise, peak, and decline of the capture and enslavement of Christians by

North Africans has connections deep into the medieval period. Limiting this research to the Early

Modern period conceals the deep Iberio-Maghrebi cultural ties that started with theUmayyad conquest of Hispania and continued with the Reconquista, a seven centuries period of deep ethno-religious conflict and cooperation that bound the Iberio-Maghrebi region together.

The Frontier During and Beyond the Reconquista

Although medievalists agree there is no singular date defining the start of the Early

Modern period, two contested dates are highlighted within the 15th century transition from the medieval period; these dates correspond with the two major catalysts for the rise in Christian slavery. On one hand, historians who focus on Western interaction with the Ottoman Empire often say the Early Modern period begins at 1453 (Carr and Crisiss 2014:2), with the Ottoman conquest of Constantinople and subsequent regional consolidation of Ottoman power. On the other hand, scholars sometimes emphasize the Spanish voyages to the New World and consolidation of Iberian power in 1492 as the start of the Early Modern Period (Hughes

2005:87–88). Regionally, these dates are important because they foreshadow the conflict between Iberian and Ottoman forces as competing imperialist interests in the Mediterranean basin; the rise in the capture and enslavement of the religious other is one expression of this conflict. The year 1492 also corresponds with the date most commonly associated with the end of the Reconquista, that is, the historical process where Iberian Christian kingdoms fought to regain peninsular control from Muslim rule.

Reconquista

The Reconquista can be roughly divided into three phases. The first phase extends from the beginning of the Christian rebellion in Asturias (7182) to the recapture of the old royal city of

Toledo in the year 1085. The second phase (1086–1212) is marked by the intervention of North

African Islamic forces that temporarily brought the advance of the Christian Iberians to a halt. In this phase, the conflict took on the character of a religious dispute. In the third phase (1213–

1492), Muslim-controlled territory receded to a relatively small region in southern Iberia. Islamic forces were eventually pushed back to North Africa in 1492. However, a focus on an Iberian reconquest creates an artificial border at the shores of the Mediterranean that conceals cultural connections between the Iberian and Maghrebi regions.

I use the term Reconquista in this document with some caveats. The word contains a multiplicity of meanings that complicate its use in a generalized fashion. I use this term more for convenience than for accuracy, since none of the proposals to replace the word Reconquista have found consensus among scholars.

One reason for a lack of consensus comes from ambiguities with defining the term.

Giorgio Perissinoto (1987:9–10) describes the term as polysemic, or a phrase with multiple meanings or interpretations. Martín Ríos Saloma (2008:30–31) provides five distinct meanings for the Reconquista. Firstly, for Ríos Saloma, the term refers to an Iberian historical process of conflict between Muslims and Christians during the Middle Ages. Secondly, it refers to a period between the Battle of Covadonga (718) and the conquest of Granada (1492). Thirdly it defines a

2 This date can correspond with the Battle of Covadonga. Opinions differ on the date of this battle. Some scholars, such as Sánchez-Albornoz (1944) argue that the Battle of Covadonga occurred in 722. Julia Montenegro Valentín and Arcadio del Castillo Álvarez (1991), disagree with Sánchez-Albornoz’s dates based on a combination of Christian and Islamic sources. Montenegro Valentín and del Castillo Álvarez suggest the Austurian rebellion and the Battle of Covadonga occurred in 718. For this dissertation, I will use 718 to define when the Battle of Covadonga occurred.

precise moment in Spanish history determined by Christian military conquest of Iberia and its subsequent political, administrative and religious reorganization. Fourthly, it refers to an ideological project developed mainly by the Asturians and Leonese, first, and Castilian monarchies, later throughout the Middle Ages on the restoration of the old Visigothic political order and the establishment of sovereignty Christian (Castilian-Leonese) over the whole of the

Iberian Peninsula. Finally, for Ríos Saloma, the term Reconquista refers to a historiographical category that serves to define and analyze the ideological implications of the aforementioned process of conquest.

The Reconquista is, in some regards, a constructed narrative that reinforces the aqueous divide between Iberia and the Maghreb. Some scholars acknowledge the important historical context that exists before 718, but stop short of speaking to the exchange beyond 1492. For example, Giorgio Perissinoto (1987:9–10) describes a broad historical process related to the term starting not in the Iberian Peninsula, but to the South, in North Africa. For Perissinoto, the start of the Reconquista encompasses a wide scope beginning when Umayyad forces joined with

Count Don Julián, governor of Ceuta. However, Perissinoto contains the end of the Reconquista in Iberia, at 1492. Ending the discussion, in effect, conceals the continued cultural connections that existed between Iberia and North Africa in the Early Modern period. I argue that the dates of the Reconquista (718–1492) mask an even broader story. The Reconquista as a historical narrative frames Iberian conquest as a case of mythical Christian triumphalism on the Iberian

Peninsula while the Iberio-Maghrebi cultural exchange was, in fact, a longer engagement that has its roots to the south, in Morocco, before and after 718–1492.

The Iberio-Maghrebi Frontier

In the early 8th century, Umayyad forces swept through North Africa and laid siege to the

North African fortress of Ceuta, located across the Straits of Gibraltar on the northernmost point

of what is now Morocco (Figure 2-1). According to legend, the Visigoth governor of Ceuta,

Count Julian, held off Umayyad forces until he shifted allegiances to avenge the rape of his daughter by King Roderick in Toledo. Out of spite, Julian is said to have invited the conquering

Umayyad forces into the city and encouraged them to continue north into Iberia. Julian was then said to have accompanied Umayyad forces north into the conquest of Gibraltar, Carteya, and

Algeciras. From this Iberian foothold, Umayyad forces defeated near the Pyrenees a divided and fractured Visigoth resistance spent on internal struggles and conflicts.

Figure 2-1. Map of Spain and the Maghreb.

While Julian is most certainly based of a real figure of either Berber, Visigoth, or

Byzantine origin, the myth of Julian and Ceuta became part of Medieval Iberian Christian

Visigoth consciousness and territorial ambitions (O'Callaghan 2011:257; Soyer 2007:274). The

1291 Treaty of Monteagudo signed by the Kings of Castile and Aragon laid out ambitious plans for Castilian and Aragonese territorial acquisition in North Africa (O'Callaghan 2011:257; Soyer

2007:274). The Iberian Christians who fashioned themselves as the direct heirs of Visigoth territory saw the reacquisition of Ceuta as a legitimate enterprise based on historical precedent.

During the Reconquista, Islamic and Christian rulers were faced with the challenges of governing ethnically and religiously diverse populations. Maria Rosa Menocal (2002:11) argues that, despite intractable differences and enduring hostilities, Islamic-ruled medieval Iberia represented a “complex culture of tolerance” and displayed an inherent ability to accept cultural complexity and contradiction. Al-Andalus, or Islamic-ruled Spain, is occasionally associated with a golden age of both Jewish and Islamic cultures, and the Spanish term convivencia describes this cultural interaction and exchange coming from the coexistence of Muslims, Jews, and

Christians. Several scholars (Cohen 2013:28–29; Fernández-Morera 2016; Nirenberg 2015:8–9) argue for tempering romantic notions of convivencia by acknowledging the existence of distrust, conflict, and oppression between the different groups of Medieval Iberia.

One manifestation of this social friction was the slavery of the religious other. Slavery in

Medieval Iberia reinforced ethno-religious identity. Religious law governed the relationship between slave and master. Islamic slave masters followed Islamic law, Christian slave owners followed Roman precedents with Christian rules, and Jewish slave masters followed Judaic law

(Phillips 2014:82–84). In some cases, conversion was an incentive towards possible manumission. For example, in the crown of Aragon, slaves owned by Jewish or Muslim masters

could gain their freedom by converting to Christianity (Phillips 2014:84). Ethno-religious identity was thus reinforced, in part, by the relationship between slave and master in Medieval

Iberia.

The creation of Christian identity in Medieval Iberia was also made to conceal the existence of the permeable ethno-religious frontiers. The Christian kingdoms that took control of the Iberian Peninsula were constructed identities that evoked a past untainted by Islamic invasion. The Christian Iberian monarchies presented themselves as royal heirs of the Visigoth kingdom. This myth of ethnogenesis legitimized their reigns by linking the royal families to a pre-Islamic, Christian past (Garcia 1999:303–305). An expression of the Christian emphasis on ethno-religious purity was the development of the Limpieza de Sangre, or blood purity laws.

The Limpieza de Sangre defined people not on their race, but on whether their blood was

“pure” from Jewish or Muslim heritage. At first glance, this distinction appears inflexible, but upon closer investigation, the law was not so rigid. The statutes defining pure “old Christian” blood came with a grandfather clause; descendants of Jews who converted before 1391 were not affected by the Limpieza (Burkholder 2012; Cohen and Peck 2003:43). Cohen and Peck

(2002:42–47) define 36 exceptions, exclusions, and anomalies with Limpieza purity laws. Some of their examples are more compelling than others. For instance, they explain that enforcement of the law was selective and that some individuals could be granted a royal certification giving them “Old Christian” status. Despite these exceptions, expulsion orders and violence led many

Iberian Muslims and Jews to flee the Peninsula for North Africa.

The process of exile and expulsion led to the creation of new identities that blurred ethno- religious borders and linked Iberio-Maghrebi space. Through exile, uprooted Muslims and Jews forged a shared identity, history, and culture based on a romanticized memory of an Al-Andalus

golden era (Abulafia 2011:476; Ben-Layashi and Maddy‐Weitzman 2010:94). Together, both

Muslim and Jewish exiles felt deeply and proudly Andalusian (Ben-Layashi and

Maddy‐Weitzman 2010:94). Many of the expulsed Muslims and Jews resettled in Northern

Morocco. However, the forced conversions to Christianity in Spain and the shared Andalusian identity of exiled Jews and Muslims created social friction with their North African hosts who saw the exiles as outsiders.

Tétouan as Part of a New Islamo-Christian Frontier

Tétouan is a city located in northern Morocco near the straits of Gibraltar, 40 kilometers south of Ceuta and 60 kilometers east of Tangier (Figure 2-2). The city is built along a limestone ridge in a valley in the northern foothills of the Rif Mountains. While the city’s origins are traced back to Antiquity, Tétouan’s 15th century destruction and subsequent reconstruction defines the city’s Early Modern identity.

The 15th century frontier between Islamic and Christian space moved south as Christian forces regained lost territories in the Peninsula and North Africa and as Jew and Muslim exiles fled south of the Straits of Gibraltar. Although Spanish kings long held aspirations of extending their power into North Africa, it was the Portuguese who seized Ceuta in 1415. Tétouan, a fortified city just 40 kilometers to the south of Ceuta, was reborn on the fringe of this new

Islamo-Iberian frontier. Tétouan harbored pirates and privateers that attacked Iberian Christian ships. In 1437, Portuguese troops devastated Tétouan in their campaign to capture Tangier.

Following these events, the city was rebuilt by the hands of the Muslim and Jewish exiles that fled Iberia in the late 15th century.

Tétouan’s location near the Straits of Gibraltar and Ceuta provided the city both terrestrial and maritime avenues from which to attack the Iberians. On the maritime front, two linked expressions of this conflict were open-sea and coastal pirate raids and the associated

capture and ransom of Christians (Davis 2003; Friedman 1983). By the 1520s, Tétouan had become a haven for Mediterranean piracy with an economy driven by the slave trade; Al-

Andalusi exiles had built one of the major non-Ottoman controlled Mediterranean corsairing fleets in Tétouan.

Figure 2-2. Map of Tétouan, Ceuta, Tangier, and Gibraltar.

The three religious groups mired in the centuries-long Reconquista continued to be involved in both conflict and cooperation in North Africa during the 15th, 16th, and 17th centuries. Tétouan and Ceuta, which became a Spanish garrison in 1580, also functioned as a newly formed exchange nexus between Iberian Christians and exiled Al-Andalusi Muslims and

Jews through the exchange of captives (Hershenzon 2011:184). Ironically, the Christian

Kingdom that expelled Muslims and Jews from Iberian territory found itself intimately engaged in ransom negotiations with these expulsed groups for captives in North Africa. Spaniards were particularly prominent among the captive population in Morocco (Friedman 1983:3); archival research shows in Tétouan large numbers of Moriscos—Moors and their descendants forced to convert to Christianity (Friedman 1983:159).

The treatment of European Christian captives and slaves as well as negotiations for their redemption varied tremendously across North Africa. José Antonio Martínez Torres (2004:52–

53) suggests that the Moroccan monarchs maintained relatively good diplomatic relations with their Spanish counterparts, and Morocco’s relatively high numbers of redeemed slaves provide evidence supporting these relationships. In contrast, a policy of open hostility persisted well into the 19th century in Algiers, where living conditions for Christian captives were described as worse than in Tunisian or Moroccan prisons (Martínez Torrez 2004:60). Abuses and complications with redemption in northern Morocco were less common than in Algiers due to the proximity and rapid response of the Spanish military garrison in Ceuta (Friedman 1983:142).

Geographic proximity also played a role in Morocco as a redemption destination. Morocco’s relatively high numbers of Spanish captives reflect the proximity of Morocco to the Andalusian beaches, cheaper redemption prices, and political stability, all of which made it a preferable destination to Algiers for deals to free captives (Martínez Torres 2004:105).

Unfortunately, estimates of captive numbers ransomed from the Maghreb are not indicative of the total number of captives and slaves held in servitude. Similarly, the number of ransomed Christians does not index the total figure of captured Christians. Most Europeans were never ransomed and lived their lives in captivity as slaves (Davis 2003:6–23; Friedman

1983:165). Overall, the figures for captivity and slavery in North Africa during the Early Modern

period are substantial, with estimates between a million to a million and a quarter slaves detained on the Barbary Coast (Davis 2003:23).

Barbary Piracy in the Early Modern Mediterranean

Barbary corsairing in the Western Mediterranean is connected to the frontier between

Iberia and North Africa and the capture and enslavement of Christians. Though much like the discussion above, an understanding of both the medieval and Early Modern period reveals important contextual information. Ellen G. Friedman, in “Spanish Captives in North Africa in the

Early Modern Age,” (1983) connects the overall trend of piracy to the rise, peak, and decline of

European Christian captivity and slavery in North Africa. In her book, Friedman proposes three phases of Barbary piracy that encompass: 1) the rise of piracy (1571–1609); 2) the height of

Barbary piracy (1610–1640); and 3) the gradual decline of corsairing (1641–1769).

While Friedman’s trend of piracy is accurate, she misrepresents her first stage. The first phase is not a rise, but a resumption of corsairing activities stretching to the medieval period.

Furthermore, the Reconquista is connected to an increase in corsairing activities in predating

Friedman’s phases. I believe that the addition of a fourth, earlier phase (1490–1570) helps position Tétouan within a larger network of power, piracy, captivity, and ransom in the Western

Mediterranean.

First Phase (1490–1570): The Expansion of Ottoman Naval Power

In his article titled “Of Corsairs, Converts and Renegades: Forms and Functions of

Coastal Raiding on Both Sides of the Far Western Mediterranean, 1490–1540,” David Coleman

(2013) describes how the period between 1490 and 1570 encompasses two trends. First, there was an intensification of a medieval trend in piracy. This intensification was a ripple of the

Reconquista in aqueous frontier of the Alborán Sea. Second, there was decrease in piracy during the 1530s. For this discussion, I am centering these events on the Maghreb with a special

emphasis on Christian captives in Tétouan Morocco. The archival and primary source accounts related to Christian slavery in Tétouan do not provide adequate differentiation to warrant splitting this phase into two parts. As a result, these two trends for piracy will be covered in one phase that precedes Ellen Friedman’s three phases.

Coleman describes the Alborán as an aqueous “forgotten frontier” between Spain and

North Africa in the early modern era (2013:170), where piracy is one expression of this liminal and contested space. Corsairing activities between Spain and North Africa within this “forgotten frontier” during the period between 1490 and 1540 were linked to trends from the medieval era.

Unlike much of the Early Modern period, medieval piracy was executed in roughly equal numbers on both sides of the Alborán Sea. The Reconquista amplifies theses trend of piracy. In fact, the conquest of Granada in 1492 contributed to a rise in the capture and enslavement of

Christians in the late 15th and early 16th centuries (Davis 2003:XXV). Coleman clarifies these points by stating, “The defining characteristic of the 1490–1540 period was an increase in seaborne corsair activity from both sides of the Alboran, occasioned… by the aftermath of the

Granada war” (2013:169). This trend of equal corsairing activity would be short lived. Coleman clarifies this point by stating it was the “last era during which corsair activity in the far western

Mediterranean consisted of missions launched in roughly comparable scale from both sides of the Alborán” (2013:171).

After the 1530s, piracy underwent a period of decline in the Western Mediterranean.

Corsair raiding from North Africa became centralized and coordinated under unified leadership under Haradin (Khayr al-Din) Barbarossa (2013:171). Attacks against Iberia diminished as the

Algiers regency diverted forces from Iberia to attack its principal rival in the Maghreb, the

Saadian dynasty of Morocco (2013:171). North African corsair attacks against Iberia did not return to early 16th-century levels until the 1570s (2013:171).

Efforts by the Spanish monarchy to thwart corsairing were ineffective. In 1564, Phillip II sent a fleet outside of Tétouan to block the passage of corsair vessels but the success of this measure was temporary (Friedman 1983:39). Ottoman forces that sacking coastal towns and merchant ships did so, in part, in the pursuit of plunder and, in part, for Christian slaves (Davis

2003:28).

During this first phase, redemptive missions to Tétouan demonstrate the city’s growing role in the acquisition and ransom of captives. Martínez Torres records three rescue missions to the city in 1523, 1539, and 1547 (Table 2-1). The redemptive account from 1523 does not involve a religious order. Instead, Juan Ortiz traveled with funds mostly from the Count of

Benavente, and a few of the captives held in Tétouan provided additional funds for their release3.

Overall, the number of redemptive missions to Tétouan, and North Africa in general, and the total of captives rescued during this period are relatively low in comparison to the second phase.

Second Phase (1571–1609): The Rise of Corsairing

European forces, displeased by the Ottoman power in the Mediterranean, looked to resolve the threat in a decisive and unified naval action. Venice and Spain, while deeply distrusting each other, set aside their differences for this common goal. The Holy League, a coalition of Christian forces, sailed to challenge Ottoman naval power. This challenge culminated in the 1571 naval battle of Lepanto. The cumulative effect of the resulting Ottoman naval defeat was an exhausting and enormously expensive engagement for both sides; the result

3 Legajo 422-9 del Archivo Histórico Nacional de Madrid. This source contains a manuscript for a redemption of captives to Tétouan in 1523.

of which led to a withdrawal and acceptance of either side’s spheres of influence (Hattendorf

2013:19).

A focus on the famous victory of Lepanto offers an incomplete narrative of Hapsburg power in the Western Mediterranean. Indeed, Ottoman victories on North African soil provided a counterweight to their naval defeat at Lepanto. Decisive Ottoman victories over Habsburg Spain in Tunis (1573) and La Goleta (1574) thwarted Spanish campaigns to control Western North

Africa (Hess 1978:95; Vernon and Cook 1976:110). The Ottoman victory over Portugal at El

Ksar-el-Kebir (1578) was disastrous for the Portuguese empire, leaving its finances drained and the kingdom in a crisis over the succession for the Portuguese throne. Portugal’s overall weakened state at the end of the 16th century helped contribute to later events outside of North

Africa which lead to Phillip II of Spain’s seizure of the Portuguese crown and territories, including those in North Africa such as Ceuta and Tangier.

Hapsburg Spain agreed in 1581 on a truce with the Ottoman Empire, which was embroiled in war with Iran and ready to maintain peace in the west (Finkel 2007:169). Similarly,

Hapsburg Spain was stretched thin and entangled in costly military conflicts in the New World.

Nevertheless, the Spanish Crown fortified its positions along the North African coast with a string of Spanish-controlled presidios, or fortified military settlements, including Ceuta. The expense poured into maintaining the presidios is testimony to Hapsburg power and a physical acknowledgment of the transfer of the Islamo-Christian frontier south, into Morocco (Liang et al.

2013). In addition, the 1609 expulsion of Moriscos by Spain swelled the population of many

North African cities, including Tétouan. As a result of the 1609 expulsion, the city of Tétouan doubled in population (Cravioto 2012:300). This population movement reified the southward transfer of the post-Reconquista frontier. Al-Andalusi exiles desired revenge and many felt

obligated to demonstrate their trustworthiness to their African coreligionists through conflict with the Hapsburg Christians (Friedman 1983:12). The space between Tétouan and Ceuta became important for the exchange of captives (Hershenzon 2011:184). The numbers from Table

2-1 demonstrate a steady rise from the 16th to 17th century in the captive population of North

Africa, reflecting continued enmities between Iberian and Islamic powers, fought on land and sea, through corsairing.

One of the goals of the Hapsburg Empire and the Holy League was to end Muslim corsairing, but their efforts in suppressing piracy were short lived. The victory at Lepanto and assertion of Hapsburg naval power did not stop North African piracy or the demand for slaves. In fact, the Ottoman and Hapsburg ceasefire reduced the imperial naval force in the Western

Mediterranean, causing this vast aquatic zone to become increasingly more vulnerable to piracy.

Spain’s coasts continued to suffer repeated raids (Friedman 1983:7) and Barbary corsairs, equipped with larger vessels, began to raid the coasts of France, Flanders, and even Iceland

(Davis 2007:67).

Third Phase (1610–1640): The Golden Age

During the “golden age” of Barbary piracy (Friedman’s third phase, 1610–1640), the capture rate of Christians by pirates rose sharply in the Mediterranean as well as the Atlantic

(Friedman 1983:13–14). As discussed above, the Iberian expulsion edicts and reduction of state- level control on the Mediterranean both fueled this trend. An international incident in 1608, the

Monroy Affair, put Tétouan at the forefront of redemption negotiations for several years.

Ransomed by her father (of Muslim confession), 10-year-old Fatima was on her way back to

Algiers when, during a stop in Corsica, she was forced to convert to Christianity and recaptured

(Hershenzon 2016:61). In 1609, three Spanish friars from the Trinitarian redemption order,

Bernardo de Monroy, Juan de Aguila, and Juan de Palacios, were preparing to depart Algiers

Table 2-1. Numbers of captives rescued from North Africa between 1523 and 1692 (Martínez Torres 2004:42–43). Region Years in Country of origin Gender Men’s age Women’s age

of origin captivity

30yo 40yo 20yo 30yo 40yo

Year Location of redemption 20yo

20yrs

10 10 yo 10 yo

------

10 10 yrs

Italy Men

- -

Spain Coast -

Others

>41 yo >41

Interior

>21 yrs

0 0

Women

Portugal

America

Captives

11 21 32 11 21 32 11

1523 Tétouan 65 21 1 0 0 13 62 3 8 27 1

1539 Tétouan 24 18 0 2 0 0 19 5 12 8

1547 Tétouan 68 29 17 3 0 14 44 24 10 28 6 7 8 7 9 9 4 5 6 0 31 8 0 1559 Fez 69 39 1 0 0 2 40 4 16 28 0 2 20 7 11 0 0 2 2 0 0 0 1 1574 Tétouan and Fez 28 25 0 0 0 1 25 3 15 10 2 8 4 2 2 0 0 0 1 0 3 1 3 1575 Argel 139 106 29 0 3 1 120 19 44 91

1579 Tétouan 108 100 7 0 0 1 95 13 67 41

1579 Argel 218 215 1 1 0 1 190 28 2 26

1582 Argel 104 96 8 0 0 0 93 11 44 60

1586 Argel 81 67 12 0 1 1 72 9 30 51

1587 Argel 112 77 31 0 0 4 104 8 45 67

1594 Argel

1609 Fez, Tétouan, and Morocco 48 39 4 1 0 4 46 2 23 25 2

1612 Fez, Tétouan, and Morocco 127 105 9 4 0 9 97 30 30 97

1614 Fez, Tétouan, and Morocco 88 49 5 20 1 13 73 15 5 83 3 7 26 12 25 4 1 1 4 5 86 0 2 1615 Fez, Tétouan, and Morocco 69 46 2 13 1 7 62 7 10 59 1 8 27 12 14 1 2 1 1 2 64 2 3 1617 Fez, Tétouan, and Morocco 147 132 11 2 0 2 133 14 35 112 0 16 24 19 52 0 3 2 0 9

1621 Fez, Tétouan, and Morocco 100 85 0 9 1 5 85 15 32 68 0 13 41 22 9 0 0 9 3 3 100 0 0 1624 Salé, Fez, and Tangers 60

1625 Tétouan 51 31 0 15 0 5 45 6 51 16 3 9 15 7 11 1 1 2 2 0 51 0 0 1627 Argel 142 122 3 16 0 1 134 8 20 122 1 5 39 58 31 2 2 0 3 1 142

1632 Tétouan and Salé 69 61 0 6 0 2 66 3 21 48 3 16 13 11 23 0 0 2 1 0 69 0 0 1632 Tétouan 92 84 0 0 0 8 90 2 20 72 12 13 25 18 22 0 1 0 0 1 89 3 0 1633 Salé 80 59 1 2 1 17 74 6 0 80 0 20 23 15 16 1 2 1 0 2

1634 Larache 59 59 59

1636 Tétouan 79 79 0 0

Table 2-1. Continued Region Years in Country of origin Gender Men’s age Women’s age

of origin captivity

30yo 40yo 20yo 30yo 40yo

Year Location of redemption 20yo

20yrs

10 10 yo 10 yo

------

10 10 yrs

Italy Men

- -

Spain Coast -

Others

>41 yo >41 yo

Interior

>21 yrs

0 0

Women

Portugal

America

Captives

11 21 32 11 21 32 11

1636 Tétouan 85 76 0 2 0 7 79 6 17 68 2 9 23 26 19 0 0 1 1 4 82 2 1 1640 Tétouan, Fez, and Morocco 211 159 1 36 1 14 208 3 54 154 0 39 75 51 43 1 0 0 0 2 210 1 0 1642 Argel 141 126 5 0 2 8 128 13 25 116 5 12 32 36 43 4 1 3 1 4 132 8 1 1645 Tétouan, Fez, and Morocco 211 205 2 2 0 2 205 6 28 183 1 34 84 47 39 1 1 2 2 0 210 1 0 1646 Tétouan 119 105 1 2 0 11 112 7 16 103 2 16 38 31 25 0 1 0 5 1 114 5 0 1648 Argel 236

1649 Argel 106 95 3 1 0 7 92 14 27 79 1 12 22 19 38 1 2 5 4 2 76 20 10 1654 Tétouan 124 118 4 0 0 2 112 12 26 98 5 15 30 26 36 4 4 0 1 3 121 3 0 1656 Tétouan 140 134 4 1 1 0 137 3 44 96 1 18 51 40 27 0 2 0 0 1 132 5 3 1660 Tétouan and Arcila 136 128 0 2 1 5 135 1 38 98 0 14 54 39 28 0 0 0 0 1

1660 Argel 368 323 24 0 15 6 346 22 84 284 18 48 154 94 54 6 3 5 4 4 363 3 2 1662 Argel 285 237 39 0 1 8 259 26 55 230 17 34 83 68 57 5 5 7 4 5 265 17 3 1663 Tétouan 79 76 0 0 3 0 76 3 35 44 0 10 40 23 3 0 0 1 1 1 76 3 0 1663 Argel 29 13

1668 Fez and Tétouan 126 108 4 0 0 14 126 0 8 118 0 19 28 34 45 0 0 0 0 0 121 5 0 1670 Argel 191 173 10 4 0 4 172 19 29 162 6 10 55 47 54 9 3 5 1 1 174 12 5 1674 Fez and Tétouan 128 112 5 0 0 11 125 3 26 102 3 21 32 30 39 0 0 0 0 3 122 4 2 1675 Argel 519 465 29 0 8 17 482 37 196 323 4 58 138 148 134 6 4 10 7 10 481 32 3 1676 Fez and Tétouan 132 115 6 0 1 10 123 9 24 108 4 16 43 25 35 4 0 3 0 2 125 7 0 1678 Argel 450

1679 Argel 163 124 23 5 0 11 146 17 31 132 0 12 49 40 45 2 4 4 3 4 137 17 9 1686 Argel 320 270 46 0 3 1 311 9 43 277 10 49 94 72 86 1 1 2 2 3 306 11 3 1691 Larache 234 83 5 1 2 28 198 36 48 56 1 10 23 17 35 6 0 4 10 8 62 36 10 1692 Argel 156 103 41 4 1 7 154 2 19 137 0 12 26 42 73 1 0 0 0 1 97 39 20 Total 6916 4941 394 154 47 284 5567 483 1411 4161 111 592 1439 1145 1183 71 73 79 69 83 4179 245 82

Avg. 141 115 12 6 3 7 124 12 34 99 5 18 44 35 36 3 3 3 3 3

with 130 Christian captives. Fatima’s father asked the Algerian governor for assistance with his daughter’s redemption and requested that the three friars be placed under arrest while Spanish officials secured Fatima’s return from Europe. His request was thwarted by church officials who claimed that Fatima’s conversion to Christianity prohibited her return. Negotiations for the redemption of the three friars unsuccessfully continued until 1620; Friedman (1983:137) cites several archival sources that suggest the friars died during imprisonment in Algiers.

Complications for the redemption of Christian captives followed the Monroy Affair. In response to the detention of the Trinitarian friars, Spanish redemptionists stopped traveling to

Algiers between 1609 and 1618 (Friedman 1983:137). Instead, Mercedarian and Trinitarian religious orders stopped at Tétouan where they used Jewish intermediaries to negotiate the ransom of captives (Friedman 1983:137). Far from maintaining isolation between themselves and exiled Jews and Muslims, Iberian Christians cooperated with Al-Andalusi exiles through networks of intermediaries who dealt with ransom in North Africa. Jewish intermediaries operated and lived within the Spanish presidios, like Oran (Schaub 1999). They worked as intermediaries for religious orders for decades during the 17th century (Gozalbes Busto

1992:136–143) and well into the 18th century.

Fourth Phase (1641–1800): The Decline

The fourth and final phase encompasses the slow and gradual decline of corsairing and slaving in the Mediterranean. Internal wars between North African leaders and the counteroffensives launched by European powers put an end to the golden age of North African corsairing (Friedman 1983; Peskin 2009; Weiss 2011). To neutralize corsair activity and associated slaving activities, European powers had their merchant convoys escorted by massively gunned sailing ships (Davis 2007:69).

The memory of North African piracy fueled European territorial expansion in the 19th century, with French imperialism, for example, justified in part to end Christian slavery (Weiss

2011:119–120). By the early 20th century, many European powers had colonized the North

African regions, from Morocco to Egypt. In 1913, Tétouan became the capital of the Spanish protectorate in Morocco. During this protectorate period, Tétouan’s dungeons, or Mazmorras, were reopened and explored after a long period of disuse.

The Mazmorras (Dungeons) of Tétouan

The Mazmorras of Tétouan, Morocco, are subterranean dungeons constructed beneath

Mtamar Street, in one of the oldest sections of the Medina. Primary source accounts suggest that the Mazmorras date to at least the early 16th century (Cravioto 2012:294, 300). Tétouan’s

Medina is built on top of a large limestone outcropping with naturally occurring underground caverns. While we do not know the earliest date for use of the dungeons (Gozalbes Busto

1984:247), these were almost certainly constructed within one of these large, naturally occurring karsts. Descriptions of the interior space and structural change to the site as reported by historical accounts are presented in Chapter 7.

Understanding the location of Tétouan’s Mazmorras within an Iberio-Maghrebi space provided clues on the origin of the word mazmorras. Mazmorra is a Spanish word of Arabic origin. The term mazmorra in Castilian Spanish comes from an Arabic root mat-murah (singular) or mtamar/matamir4 (plural) that refers to a silo or a place to store things underground (Corriente

2008:371; Pellat 1991:842–843). There are several examples of underground Medieval Iberian sites used both as silos and dungeons to hold Christian captives (Rodríguez 2007:42).

Interestingly, an Arabic origin for the term dungeon does not exist beyond the Pyrenees. The Old

”.مطامير“ The Arabic word for the transliteration of mtamar/matamir is 4

French (donjon) and Italian (donjione) terms for “dungeon” are Latin-based, and refer to above ground structures (Skeat 1910:185–186).

The historical accounts of Dominique Busnot and Emanuel d’Aranda show difficulties with translating the Arabic word matamurah and mtamars to their French audience. In an early

18th century account, Dominique Busnot, a French priest, clarified the term matamores in the margins with the label, Leurs Prisons, meaning their prisons (1714:169). A mid-17th century account by Emanuel d’Aranda, a Flemish student who was captured while returning from studies in Madrid, clarified the term Masmore by stating it was an underground prison (1671:90)5. This makes me wonder whether the transliteration of the Spanish word mazmorras in the French sources mislead Davis’ (2009:206–207) labeling of mazmorras as matamoros (moor killer).

In this study, I refer to the dungeons as mazmorras because it is frequently used in the

Spanish academic literature. Dr. Mehdi Zouak, the local delegate to the Ministry of Culture for

Tangier and Tétouan and my supervisor for my excavations in Morocco, preferred to use the term “Mtamars,” after the local Arabic name. While local residents do use the word Mazmorras to describe the site, Mtamatrs is the Arabic word used by the local residents.

Ransoming Captives and Slaves from Tétouan

Christians locked in the Mazmorras hoping to be freed would write home to plead for rescue. While a few people traveled to North Africa to rescue their loved ones individually, the vast majority of redemptions worked through one of the religious redemption orders (Ambrus and Cheney 2011:12). In Spain, these were the Trinitarians and the Mercedarians. Most of the money received by the religious orders was called ajutorios. It was given by the families and friends of designated captives and earmarked only for them (Friedman 1983:111). A smaller

5 “La Masmore est une prison dessous la terre” (d’Aranda 1666:90).

portion of the funds used for ransom was called limosnas, or unrestricted funds. Limosnas may be divided into limosnas general (general alms) or limosnas con cláusula (alms with clause).

Limosnas general were funds that the redeemers could use at their discretion to free those they felt most appropriate. These funds came largely from public funds, Royal sources, or alms provided by the order (Friedman 1983:111). Limosnas con cláusula were funds donated by a benefactor (through a will or command) or by a foundation for a specific type of captives (e.g. children, women, or residents of a specific town).

A slave’s prospects for ransom depended on their ownership, gender, and age. Slaves could be owned by royalty, individuals, or used for public or common service (Hershenzen

2011:45; Martínez Torres 2004:63). Slaves from the first two categories had a higher chance for ransom, whereas the last category could expect to work as slaves until death (Hershenzen

2011:45; Martínez Torres 2004:63). Women and children were special cases and redemption orders emphasize their rescue6. While women and children constituted approximately 5% and to

8% of the slave population respectively, these two groups were at a greater risk for apostasy, according to the church (Friedman 1983:146–147).

Spanish law regulated the methods by which the redemption orders transported and used capital for ransom. The redeemers were required to invest two-thirds of their redemptive capital into commodities (mercancías) (Friedman 1983:121), a regulation set in place to limit the access of Maghrebi powers to precious metals (Braudel 1995:476–477). A second reason was that the

Spanish economy would benefit from the purchase and export of Spanish goods in Moorish lands. In fact, this system augmented the value of redemptive funds, since the merchandise was sold at a profit (Friedman 1983:121). This redemptive trade network between Spain and the

6 Archivo Histórico Nacional, within the Colección Códices y Cartularios. Libros de la Redención de Cautivos de Tetuán, Fez y Marruecos #125, Fol. 3R.

Maghreb required the management of relations and networks of trust (Hershenzon 2011:45–46), which were maintained through Jewish and Muslim intermediaries in North Africa. These intermediaries purchased the goods, which they resold to Muslim and Jewish merchants settled in Ceuta, Tétouan, Oran, and Algiers (Martínez Torres 2004:109).

As an example, in a redemption to Tétouan occurring between 1638 and 1639, the redentores (redeemers) purchased bonetes (hats) in Toledo to sell in Morocco. At the time, bonetes were a major manufactured goods exported to North Africa and traded for the ransom of several captives (Santamaría 2014:120). In this particular redemption, a profit of 117,276 reales resulted from the purchase and export of the bonetes7.

The voyage home for the freed slaves required them to endure several more hardships.

Crossing the straits of Gibraltar was a risky proposition and dangerous storms strike with little warning. In the 17th century, several devastating epidemics hit Spain and captives were forced to endure grueling quarantine periods (Friedman 1983:161). Upon their return, the freed captives were expected to participate in emotional religious ceremonies, which had a benefit of encouraging donations for the redemption of more slaves (Friedman 1983:163).

Concluding Remarks

This chapter reviewed the historical context of Christian slavery and how Tétouan’s

Mazmorras existed on the frontier of Early Modern Iberio-Maghrebi space. While the historical record suggests that Tétouan’s Mazmorras use as a prison began in the Early Modern period, the conflict driving slaving activities extended into the medieval period. Viewing the capture and ransom of Christians in the Early Modern Mediterranean through the prism of Iberio-Maghrebi relations revealed cultural information that would otherwise not have been considered. For

7 Archivo Histórico Nacional, within the Colección Códices y Cartularios. Libros de la Redención de Cautivos de Tetuán #131, Fol. 63L.

instance, this perspective provided additional information on the dynamics of redemption and the origins of the word mazmorras. In sum, Tétouan’s Mazmorras are a physical memorial to one of the many complex networks that linked Christians, Muslim, and Jews in North Africa during the

Early Modern period.

CHAPTER 3 DEFINING SERVITUDE IN EARLY MODERN SPAIN AND FRANCE

One of the major academic disagreements regarding European Christians held in bondage in North Africa during the Early Modern Period (1500–1800) centers on their treatment in bondage and their classification as either “captives,” “faith-slaves,” or “prisoners of war.” In this chapter, I review the connotations of the labels captives, slaves, or prisoners of war in past and present, and examine which one(s) is (are) more adequate to describe the treatment of Christians in servitude. As such, I review the arguments proposed for the use of either captive or slave in the scholarship on Christian servitude and how these are influenced by inadequate comparisons to New World chattel slavery. I then discuss the meaning of these terms in Castilian Spanish and

French by examining primary sources found in my archival research. I argue that the terms captives, slaves, and prisoners of war were constructed and reconstructed over time, with the modern meaning of slavery being influenced by the semiotics of race and Atlantic New World slavery. This historical process created a separation and distance in meaning from the Early

Modern Mediterranean, influencing the academic debate surrounding the use of the terms captivity and slavery. I examine the archives for this study in small-scale networks of ransom and redemption for Tétouan, Morocco, to resolve this historical contention with an emic approach.

Use of the Terms “Captives” and “Slaves” in Scholarly Sources

In general, secondary historical sources that emphasize the use of the word slave tend to underscore the harsh treatments of Christians in bondage more than academics who favor the terms captive or prisoner. Davis (2009:12) argues that the majority of Christians held in bondage in Early Modern North Africa were, collectively, slaves. He states that labeling these Europeans as captives is an innocuous semantic shift that serves to diminish their collective experience.

Conversely, Nabil Matar suggests to emphasize the term captive. He stresses that Christians in

Muslim captivity were collectively treated better than Muslims enslaved by Europeans (Vitkus

2001:16–17, 21). Despite their preference for one term over the other, Davis and Matar (and others) use both slave and captive with varying frequencies in their writings.

Proponent of using the word slavery, Davis (2003, 2009) argues that the debate on the collective treatment of European captives is distorted by contemporary postcolonial paradigms that tend to minimize or suppress the depictions of Europeans as powerless, particularly in regions that were to be colonized by Europeans in the 19th century:

We are, by and large, uncomfortable seeing White Europeans as anything other than dominators of [the Early Modern] era. Our master narrative of the Early Modern Atlantic world, built on the foundations of colonialism and the enslavement of Blacks by Whites, has little or no place for White Europeans as victims, powerless and at the mercy of those whom scholars now prefer to call “the Subaltern Other.”

Our modern discomfort with this apparent role reversals may also be expressing itself in conscious or unconscious attempts to hide Mediterranean slaves, as it were, in plain sight—by labeling them in terms that imply something not quite slavery. Some scholars have consistently referred to them as “captives” rather than slaves. It is a seemingly innocuous shift, but one that is freighted with implications. (Davis 2009:11–12)

As pointed out by Davis, New World chattel slavery is a powerful mental reference for the word slave, and it often referred to in the literature despite being out-of-place for discussing Early

Modern European slavery (e.g., Barrio Gozalo 2006; Davis 2003, 2009; Fontenay 2008;

Hershenzon 2011; Matar 2014; Phillips 2013; Weiss 2011). Weiss (2011) warns against this pitfall and argues that the Early Modern Mediterranean should be studied in its own historical context to allow Christians slaves to define their own experience:

Such historians, however, mostly overlooked [Braudel’s] assertion that “slavery was a structural feature of Mediterranean society . . . by no means exclusive to the Atlantic and the New World.” Rather than embrace this inclusive perspective, they tended to adopt the extreme model of hereditary bondage that in the Caribbean and parts of Latin America and the United States turned people into pure commodities,

and to accept the dominant view that the Arab-Islamic world featured a notably benign, racially neutral type of servitude. Accordingly, they tended to distinguish— semantically and substantively—the confinement of Christians and Muslims in Europe from that of sub-Saharan Africans in the Americas, and the experience of “captives” or “prisoners of war” from that of true “slaves.”

This study of captivity and redemption in an Old World frontier zone disputes the assumption that the primary reference point for slavery in the minds of Frenchmen and Frenchwomen from the seventeenth to the nineteenth century was the colonial chattel kind. Without suggesting that the Mediterranean system of seizure and detention for the sake of ransom bears direct comparison to the Atlantic system of brutal transport and violent exploitation to satisfy mass markets, it rejects seemingly universal, static typologies and takes Barbary slaves and their contemporaries at their word. (Weiss 2011:4–5)

Both Davis’ and Weiss’ criticisms point to how the current academic debate on the presumed nature of European bondage has mischaracterized their condition as being either slave or captive, with no shades of gray. This mischaracterization also highlights how the debate often focuses on the relative nature of European bondage in comparison to other forms of slavery. For example,

Matar (2014; Viktus 2007:16–17, 21) suggests that European captivity was relatively more benign than contemporary treatment of Muslim slaves in Europe or the African chattel slavery in the New World. Davis (2009:12) and Weiss (2011:4–5) argue for inclusive definitions of slavery and reject descriptions that serve to minimize the experience of European Christians as temporary or relatively benign in treatment compared to other forms of slavery. I support Davis’ and Weiss’ position in that Early Modern Mediterranean slavery should be studied as a phenomenon in its own context. We do not need comparisons to other forms of slavery to qualify the treatment of captives and slaves; slavery and captivity, and the loss of freedom that they entail, are awful ways to live no matter where they take place.

Defining Christian Slaves

Robert Davis is a proponent of using the term slave. The core of his argument is based on his approximate figure on the extent of Christian enslavement in North Africa during the Early

Modern period (Davis 2003). Davis chastises the insubstantial and hypothetical estimates of other scholars (2001, 2003:4), because they marginalize Europeans by simply categorizing them as captives or prisoners of war who could expect to regain their freedom by ransom after a short confinement (Davis 2003:20–21). He bases his research on many sources: diplomatic reports, popular broadsheets, and simple word-of-mouth details reporting the capture of hundreds and thousands on the high seas or in coastal raids; primary accounts from merchants, insurers, and former enslaved Christians; and estimates from resident councils and merchant agents who were commissioned to count the number of captured people for use during peace negotiations or ransoming ventures (2003:5–10). He also compares his results to other estimates, gauges their reliability, and arrives at a low and high estimate—erring on the more conservative figure. He concludes that “between 1530 and 1780, there were almost certainly a million and quite possibly as many as a million and a quarter white, European Christians enslaved by the Muslims of the

Barbary coast” (2003:23).

Part of Davis’ work has focused on assessing the impact of ransom, escape, apostasy, and death. Through an examination of primary and secondary sources, he documents that the combined rate of attrition due to escape and ransom was 3 to 4% (2003:17), that of apostasy was at most 4% (2003:22), and that of death was 17% annually. On a combined total of 24–25% annual attrition rate of the Christian slave populations in North Africa, it was death, not ransom, that best defined the collective experience of these people (Davis 2003:19, 23). With these figures, Davis concludes that slavery best describes the treatment of Christian Europeans held in bondage in North Africa.

Defining Christian Captives

Davis’ estimates have not been accepted by all in the academic community. Nabil Matar

(2014; preface to Vitkus 2001:16–17) and Michel Fontenay (2006:824) both accuse Davis of

overstating his estimates and propose instead arguments in favor of “captivity.” In fact, in the foreword to his 2014 British Captives from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic, 1563–1760, Matar explains how Davis’ estimate of “1,000,000 Christian slaves under Muslim masters” spurred his research. Since 2001, he has produced several publications with conclusions contrary to Davis’ estimates. In the introductory chapter to Vitkus’ 2001 Slavery and Redemption: Barbary

Captivity Narratives from Early Modern Europe, Matar elaborates on the argument of captivity, stating that “overwhelming evidence shows that North African captors took care of their captives” (Vitkus 2001:16–17). What is surprising is that he makes this claim in the introductory chapter of a book with numerous accounts of brutal treatment! Indeed, Vitkus writes of accounts in which Muslim owners are described as “beating [the Christians]...as to make blood come out of their drawers” (2001:246) or in which Christians report that they were “miserably starved”

(2001:61). Matar dismisses these accounts as “sensationalist narratives” (2001:33) and supports his argument by citing Ellen Friedman (1983).

The focus of Friedman’s Spanish Captives in North Africa in the Early Modern Age is on prisoners of war expecting ransom or prisoners, not slaves. However, Matar (2001) misreads

Friedman by assuming that her emphasis on prisoners of war is a reflection of the collective experience of most Christians enslaved in North Africa. In fact, Friedman does not claim that the majority of captives were ransomed. She briefly admits that she finds it impossible to estimate the total amount enslaved but states that “it would probably be correct to say that most of those taken prisoner lived out their lives in captivity” (1983:165). In other words, Matar misreads

Friedman to argue that Europeans in Early Modern North Africa experienced a relatively benign form of captivity, when she actually states the opposite. In fact, Friedman’s depictions of ransom

and manumission are exceptional occurrences that most prisoners, she argues, did not experience.

Matar’s 2014 British Captives from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic, 1563–1760 focuses on the captivity of Britons in North Africa during “the grim ‘golden age’ of captivity”

(Matar 2014:12). Once again, he emphasizes the term captive to refer to Christians held in bondage from the second half of the 17th century onward, stating “the [British] captives were soldiers captured in battle and therefore prisoners of war” (Matar 2014:7). Matar produces estimates for British captives and raises doubts about Davis’ estimates for European slavery but he does not offer a figure that considers all Early Modern Europeans held in bondage in North

Africa. Actually, British captives formed a small portion of the enslaved population in North

Africa (Table 2-1). Spanish, Flemish, French, Portuguese, and Italians were all captured and enslaved “at a much greater rate throughout the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries” than the

British (Davis:2003:4) and Spaniards were “especially prominent among the captive population, and may have even constituted a majority” (Friedman 1983:3). Matar’s documenting of British prisoners is an important contribution, but his research focus does not provide a picture representative of the collective experience of all European enslaved.

Matar raises other arguments against Davis’ estimates. First, he considers that, if Davis’ significant figures are accurate, Christian Europeans should have considerably “Europeanized”

North Africa in a fashion similar to the Africanization of the Southern United States (Matar

2014:11). For instance, he labels Mulay Ismael's accounts of owning 10,000 slaves as impossible because “there is no European influence on the city” of Meknes (Matar 2014:11). I would argue that European Christians, given that they were kept in prison-like environments, likely had a more limited influence on North African culture than African slaves did in the United States and

Caribbean. The latter were actively bred, lived on plantations, had some latitude in choosing the architecture of their houses, could cultivate their own gardens, and often formed more than half of the population of American and Caribbean colonies (Singleton 2015). In contrast, European males were not likely allowed to reproduce with the Muslim female population. The same cannot be said of European female captives (Davis 2003:25), but they always formed a small portion of the slave population and were often sent away from North Africa to the Ottoman capitol

(Friedman 1983:146–147). Although 17th-century visitors often remarked on the “rather white complexion” of residents of Algiers (Davis 2003:25), one source of this were the Ottoman militia comprised of people from the Balkans, and renegados, or people who converted from

Christianity (Davis 2003:205). While genetic research shows limited gene flow over the Straits of Gibraltar (Comas et. al. 2000), one source of the European genetic admixture in North Africa is the tens of thousands of Jewish and Muslim exiles from Iberia (Cerni et. al. 2016). Finally, although one cannot deny the European influence visible in the architecture of cities like

Tétouan, this cultural exchange may not have emanated from the slave population itself but rather from the trade and movement of population and ideas occurring between North Africa and

Iberia during the Early Modern period.

Matar also raises doubts about the overall veracity of Christian slave accounts because of the absence of physical sites where captives would have been held. For instance, he contests the authenticity of Habs Kara, a location publicly interpreted as a prison from Christian captives.

Matar does not refer to Habs Kara by name in his 2014 book, but he shows a picture that is clearly from the site. In this book, Matar cites a discussion with Mustafa Benfayda, a former professor of History at the University of Mulay Ismail in Meknes. Matar writes that “Professor

Benfayda strongly contests the claim that the underground granaries were used for captives”

(2014:11).

Arguing that an underground granary could not function as a space to hold captives ignores the historically and linguistically known dual function of mazmorras as prison and granary. The Arabic origins of the Castilian word mazmorra refer to an underground grain silo that could also hold captives (Salgado 1998:342). In Al-Andalus, some underground spaces are known to have served as both grain silos and dungeons holding Christian captives (Rodríguez

2007:42). While the archeological integrity at Habs Kara needs to be ascertained, Matar’s interpretation of the site as a granary does not preclude its use as a prison as well.

Michel Fontenay (2006) is another scholar who accuses Davis of overstating his estimates. However, Fontenay is less worried about the number of Christians held in bondage than the contextual and historical semantics of the words slave and captives. He distinguishes between captivity and slavery based on economic reasons: slaves had value in labor and captives had value in ransom. He suggests that the maintenance of costly ransom networks showed intent for temporary captivity of Christians. For Fontenay (2008:21), captives are temporary slaves pending redemption, and their value is in their exchange, not their capacity for labor. He describes semantic differences of the French, Spanish, and Italian use of captive and slave to support his capitalist-oriented approach. He argues that, while Early Modern French, Spanish, and Italian scribes sometimes use the terms captive and slave interchangeably, the word captive suggests both an impermanence and exchange value while the term slave implies a value in utility and labor (Fontenay 2008:21). Fontenay supports his argument by drawing parallels with

Arabic examples.

One of the weaknesses of Fontenay’s argument is that he removes the human dimension from the equation. Although economic motives cannot be denied, individuals and families were effectively giving money to religious orders for them to bring back their loved ones. These people had very personal motives for their behaviors and were certainly not driven by the prospect of making profits. Fontenay also disregard the fact that most European slaves were unransomed (Davis 2003:20–21) or used explicitly for labor (Davis 2003:14–16; 2009:201).

Daniel Hershenzon (2011:25) summarizes Fontenay’s oversight, noting that he “has reduced the religious aspects of captive-taking to logic of market economy disregarding the fact that the majority of captives were not ransomed and died as slaves.” This implies that, by underscoring the economic motives of the redemption networks, Fontenay does not adequately characterize the collective experience of Christian held in bondage in North Africa.

In sum, arguments in favor of using the word captive consider that Christians were temporary captives waiting to be freed. Those who emphasize the word slave suggest the opposite: most Europeans were not ransomed and lived their lives as slaves. So far, I find the latter argument to be more compelling than the former. I turn next to the use of the terms captive and slave in historical documents and how this influence their semantic meanings

The Semantics of Captives and Slaves

Fontenay’s interpretation of the terms captive and slave raises an important question regarding how Early Modern contemporaries themselves defined captivity and slavery. I contend that a central issue of the modern debate on the semantics of slave, captive, and prisoner is the use of out-of-place analogies or, as Davis asserts, the projection of modern paradigms onto the past by scholars. In present-day discussions about slavery and captivity, the benchmark for slavery is often New World chattel slavery. However, using the latter as a standard for defining slavery at large implies that Early Modern Mediterranean slavery is not defined in its own

context. Weiss warns against this trap and suggests that we take Early Modern “contemporaries at their word” (Weiss 2011:4–5). To do so, we need to compare how people in the past defined and used the words slave and captive to how modern scholars do so.

There is a disagreement among scholars about whether the terms captive and slave were dissimilar in meaning and practice. While some argue that captive and slave were largely interchangeable in Castilian Spanish (Fauve-Chamoux 2004:194) and French (Weiss 2011:10–

11) during the Late Medieval and Early Modern periods, others charge that an important contextual distinction exists between these words. Jarbel Rodríguez (2007:38), Enrique Mora

González (2015:15–18), William Phillips (2013:39–40), and Maximillano Bario Gozalo

(2006:11–13, 82–84) agree that the Castilian Spanish words esclavo (slave) and cautivo (captive) were used in similar contexts, but they argue for a nuanced distinction between the two terms based on an expectation of freedom and redemption. Captivity had a transitory and economic association to rescue that distinguishes it from slavery. In this context, the distinction between captive and slave was ransom. Fontenay (2008:22), Rodríguez (2007:38–41), Mora González

(2015:17–18), Phillips (2013:39–40), and Barrio Gozalo (2006:11–13, 82–84) argue that captives had hope of ransom, while slaves did not. However, one could ask how you could really qualify the life of slaves in the historical (or archaeological) record when nearly all accounts on life in servitude in North Africa were written by the minority of people who were rescued, that is, according to this definition, captives.

A point of contention exists as to whether this semantic distinction described above speaks to how Early Modern Europeans defined themselves and their collective lived experience.

In Slavery in Medieval and Early Modern Iberia, Phillips considers the terms captivity, slavery, and the presumed nature of servitude in the Iberian Peninsula. Phillips makes the same mistake

as Nabil Matar by citing Friedman 1983 to state “captives ended up as prisoners of war who were usually ransomed and did not become slaves” (Phillips 2013:39). Friedman finds it impossible to arrive at a collective estimate and concedes that "it would probably be correct to say that most of those taken prisoner lived out their lives in captivity" (1983:165).

Rodríguez’s position in the debate is based on semantics. Although he acknowledges that most Christian captives were not ransomed, the possible expectation of rescue creates, for him, the difference between the captive and the slave (2007:39). He makes this semantic distinction understanding that it does not speak to the collective experience of Christians in captivity, making this clear by saying “[t]hese academic and legalistic differences probably mattered little to the average captive, who upon capture entered a state of difficult, frightful, and humiliating servitude” (Rodríguez 2007:39). In making this distinction, Rodríguez offers the following caveat showing how both captive and slave were similar:

. . . the natal alienation that results in a loss of freedom and rights, the subjugation to the master’s will and dependence on the master for basic survival, the forced labor and services captives were forced to render, and the loss of honor associated with captivity meant that the captive and the slave shared many similar experiences. (Rodríguez 2007:39)

For Rodríguez, the lived experiences for captives and slaves were virtually indistinguishable, but important for legal and academic reasons. Curiously, both Rodríguez and Fauve-Chamoux cite the same Medieval Castilian legal code to support their contrasting arguments, one arguing for the interchangeability of the terms and the other, or potential difference between captives and slaves (Fauve-Chamoux 2004:194; Rodríguez 2007:39). Philips adds to this confusion and inadvertently raises an inconsistency in his text while citing Rodríguez. While agreeing with

Rodríguez’s semantic distinction, Phillips says that Castilian historical documents treat

“captivity and slavery as equivalent” (Phillips 2013:39). Claiming the historical documents treat the terms as equivalent raise questions on how Fontenay, Rodríguez, Mora, Phillips, and Barrio

Gozalo’s semantic argument differentiating captivity and slavery appears in the Castilian archival sources.

From my research into Spanish Archives, I contend that the semantic differences of cautivo and esclavo as defined in the academic debate presented above does not match the use of the terms in archival documents from the 16th and 17th centuries. For example, in De la

Redencion de Cautivos . . . (San Juan 1686), it is said that the Moors held many Christian captives (cautivos christianos). The text appears to make a distinction between their condition and that of slaves, saying that “if we do not free these Christians, we will leave them in perpetual slavery”1 (San Juan 1686:55/620). However, later in the text, both Christian captives and

Christian slaves are defined in the same sentence within the context of redemption; the text even underscores the importance of freeing the Christian slaves, who are in great danger of losing faith. 2

Royal documents from the 16th century also contain simultaneous descriptions of cautivo and esclavo. A treaty of capitulations between the Hapsburg Emperor Charles V and the King of

Tunis from August 6, 1535 mention both terms in the same sentence.3

[E]l dicho Rey ha tratado, convenido y acordado de su propio motu4 de instituir en llana gente era libertad a todos iguales quien cristianos hombres mujeres y niños que están y se hallaran5 detenidos cautivos esclavos y siervos en y por todo dicho reino donde como por quien y por cualquier causa que esto sea o pueda ser

1 Y en las mismas peleas, y refriegas que tuviessen con la dicha Esquadra, quedarian muchos Cautivos Christianos en poder de los Moros: y de no redimirlos, no podia coníeguirse el quitar lacodicia à los Moros, sìno la libertad à los Christianos, dexandolos èn perpétua esclavitud, sin esperanças de remedio humano, expuestos à conocidos riesgos dé irréparables daños del alma y çuerpo.

2 El Instituto principal de los Religiosos Descalços de la Santifsima Trinidad, Redención de Cautivos, es redimir los Christianos Esclavos, que están en Berbería, no sin peligro de faltar en la Fè.

3 Copia de las capitulaciones de paz entre el emperador Carlos V y el Rey de Túnez ajustadas el 6 de agosto de 1535 (Source: Archivo Histórico Nacional, ESTADO, 2876).

4 Latin for: “on his own impulse,” this is a document issued and personally signed by a monarch or Pope.

5 Used in the sense of “encontraran.”

liberalmente francamente y libremente y sin por ello demandar exigir ni tomar de los dichos cautivos y esclavos cosa ninguna, ni permitir ni sufrir que les sea hecho algún mal tratamiento y les favoreciera y asistiera para su pasaje y vuelta en las tierras de la dicha cristiandad y todo esto a buena fe.6

A survey of physical and electronic indexes7 of Spanish archives for the Castilian terms for captive (cautivo) and slave (esclavo) associated with words for Christian (Cristianos and

Christianos) and redemption (redención) show a greater association of rescue and ransom with the term captive. However, this cursory survey of indexes can hide texts that use the term esclavo to define Iberian Christians to be ransomed. For example, the 16 redemption books associated with ransom efforts in Tétouan that I acquired from the Archivo Histórico Nacional in Madrid,

Spain, 8 all have Redención de Cautivos (redemption of captives) in their titles. The word slave does not appear in the title, and a search for esclavo instead of cautivo will not pull up these sources. However, the transcription and translation of the script of these redemption records reveals a quite different association of the terms in primary sources about redemption.

Of the 16 books of redemption associated with Tétouan, the Libros de la Redención de

Cautivos de Tetuán, Fez y Marruecos is one of the largest, dating to 1617–1618. This document will be referred to henceforth as Códice 125. This document details records of the process of redemption, where the individuals to be rescued had to present themselves to a scribe and notary,

6 [The] King has made a treaty, and agreement of his own accord to institute in plain people freedom to all equally, Christian, men, women and children who are and were held captive, slaves, and servants in and for all the mentioned kingdom where how and by whom and for any reason this is or can be freely and frankly and freely without thereby to require nor demand from the mentioned captives and slaves anything, nor permit them to suffer, nor to do them some bad treatment and favor them and assist them with their passage and return in the lands of the mentioned Christianity and all this in good faith (translation by the author).

7 El Portal de Archivos Españoles (PARES), or the Spanish Archives Portal, is an electronic and publicly accessible repository for digitized images of Spanish archival documents.

8 Archivo Histórico Nacional, within the Colección Códices y Cartularios. Libros de la Redención de Cautivos de Tetuán, Fez y Marruecos #125 (1617/1618), Libro de la Redención de Cautivos de Tetuán #126 (1621), #127 (1625), #129 (1633/1636), #131 (1638/1639), #134 (1646/1647), #136 (1655/1656), #137 (1654), #138 (1660/1661), #140 (1663/1664), #142 (1668/1670), #143 (1673/1674), #144 (1676/1677), Libro del Consejo Real de Justicia de la Redención de Cautivos en Tetuán y Alcazaba de Sale #128 (1632/1633).

Juan de Aguriano. Aguriano recorded the name of the person to be ransomed, their place of birth and age, any distinctive physical features, the date or year of their capture, the place where they were captured, their owner in North Africa, the amount of ransom and the names of the donors.

Aguriano followed this format for nearly every entry.

Juan de Aguriano defined each person to be ransomed as either an esclavo or cautivo, and their North African owner is described as su patron. In Códice 125, 113 people are listed as esclavos and 19 are described as cautivos. The owners of six people are described as su patron.

Redemption entries with su patron do not describe the people as either esclavos or cautivos. All of these people came from areas within the Iberian Peninsula. There appears to be no pattern to why one term is used over the other or why the term esclavo is used more than cautivo or su patron. Full transcriptions of these passages can be found in Appendices A to C.

Weiss’ warning of improper semantic distinctions applies to the Spanish language. The rigid association of cautivo with redemption and/or rescue of captives proposed by Fontenay,

Rodríguez, Mora González, Phillips, and Barrio Gozalo does not match the archival primary texts. I would agree that cautivo is more likely associated with the redemption of European

Christians, but it is clear that this relationship is not exclusive.

Splitting Early Modern servitude into a rigid captivity/slavery dichotomy based on the potential of ransom maintains chattel slavery as an archetype, even though it does not accurately reflect how these people described themselves or their lived experience. Many authors acknowledge New World chattel slavery as a point of comparison (Barrio Gozalo 2006:7;

Fontenay 2008:21, 24; Phillips 2013:5). New World Slavery during the first part of the Early

Modern period was not how they defined their own slavery; it is how we, in the present define

slavery. New World chattel slavery and race is the mental semiotic we envision when we hear the word s-l-a-v-e, and addressing this archetype is how we speak to the present.

The modern racial distinction based on biological and phenotypic differences was foreign to late 14th and early 15th century Spaniards who instead emphasize religious categorizations.

The best expression of this is the Limpieza de Sangre or “purity of blood” that defines people not by race, but by whether their lineage was free from Jewish (Marrano) or Muslim (Morisco) heritage. However, rules governing the Limpieza de Sangre were not applied rigidly and loopholes and grandfather clauses for conversions temper these boundaries (Burkholder 2012;

Cohen and Peck 2003:43; also, see Chapter 2). The terms white and black were used to define slaves before the pivotal year of 1492, but the definition of white was very different to how it was used a few centuries later in the New World or in other European countries. Several archival documents from the late 15th century mention white and Christian slaves, but these may refer to

North Africans who converted to Christianity.9,10

Another major difference is the relative fluidity in the sistema de castas (caste system) used in Spanish New World colonies. While the highest offices were often reserved for pure

Peninsular Spaniards, creoles used fluid and changing definitions of caste and heredity to access higher status (Martinez 2008:143–148). These religious distinctions on lineage did not carry over to French concepts of race, which placed a heavy emphasis on class (Martinez 2008:55).

9 Sobrecarta de una cédulade 30 de agosto de 1494 a fin de que a fray Diego Carrillo, comendador de las Casas de Toledo, de la Orden de Calatrava, le sea devuelto un esclavo blanco que se había ido de su poder a la ciudad de Granada con esperanza de ser libre, pese a que por ser esclavo del comendador de dicha Orden no podía gozar del privilegio de libertad concedido en las capitulaciones de dicha ciudad (Source: RGS, LEG, 149412, 208, 1494-12- 20).

10 Para que el licenciado de Yepes, juez de residencia de Segovía, ordene llevar preso a la Corte a Mahoma Herrero, moro blanco, que huyó a Granada cuando era esclavo de Rodrigo de Tremiño y consorte (Source: RGS, LEG, 149405, 109, 1494-5-26).

Colonialism, Slavery, and Freedom

Weiss describes how religion, race, power and the French state influenced the collective meanings and memory of captivity and slavery. It was French power, not Spanish power that became the main colonizing force in North Africa. French justifications for colonialism and the

French notion of Freedom were in part influenced by the capture and enslavement of Europeans in North Africa. The notions of slavery changed with the rise in French power and French colonialism. The lingering impact of colonialism connects Edward Said’s Orientalism and

Davis’ suggestion that postcolonial paradigms influence modern interpretations of European

Christian slaves.

Ideas and attitudes linking Frenchness, freedom, and power developed in the Atlantic presented the justification for the French projection of power and ‘civilization’ into North Africa.

The idea of freedom as a French national prerogative, Weiss suggests, was neither essential nor timeless. Rather, it developed within a nexus of state building and slave trading, with repercussions in the 19th century for France’s role as a colonizing power (Weiss 2005). In the

16th and 17th centuries, few French slaves fled North Africa. Most perished, and redemption was effected mostly through religious orders liberating only a small percentage of captives

(Weiss 2005). For most of the 17th century, the French Crown largely disregarded the plight of what were mostly poor seamen and intervened only when not preoccupied with more pressing continental aﬀairs (Weiss 2005). After 1680, the liberation of French slaves became an affaire d’état, and the Catholic redemptive orders forfeited control to the state. The redemption of captives by the French state, Weiss argues, helped bind citizens to the nation and provided a

“crusading” image that assuaged European concerns over France’s alliance with the Ottoman

Empire.

Notions of freedom and Frenchness slowly became more dominant and racialized, and by the late 18th century being ‘French’ meant being free (Weiss 2005). The rise of French power and notions of French freedom combined to justify conquest. Weiss argues that the 1830 French conquest of Algeria was used as a justification by the French government, in part, as putting an end to French slavery (Weiss 2011). By the 19th century, European powers extended their control over North Africa as colonial powers. One result of the regrettable action of colonialism was the end of slaving of European Christians along the Barbary Coast.

Concluding Remarks

This survey of the major scholastic disagreements regarding the collective treatment of

European Christians held in bondage in North Africa during the Early Modern Period (1500–

1800) demonstrates a bias towards the term captive and away from the term slave. A literature review of the available academic positions on captivity and slavery support Davis’ and Weiss’ arguments for bias based on paradigmatic and semantic distinctions. While I can demonstrate that Early Modern Spaniards held in North African servitude used interchangeable terms for cautivo and esclavo, their collective treatment was not a temporary condition. Collectively,

Davis’ estimates that the majority of these Europeans remained without rescue while living the remainder of their lives in servitude corroborates a modern definition of slavery.

Unlike Davis’ large-scale focus, this dissertation is concerned with one dungeon and smaller-scale networks of captivity and trade. The primary source accounts I use for this dissertation show the Spanish and French people held in Tétouan’s Mazmorras did not make same differentiations for the words captive and slave that exist in today. I will use their descriptions as they used them. I will let these people define themselves. I will use their descriptions as they used them: Interchangeably. Although it is unclear to define how to apply this interchangeability with specificity.

Contextualizing redemption archival descriptions to Tétouan’s Mazmorras raise more questions than they solve. While both slave and captive are used in Spanish archival sources, the terms do not appear with equal frequency. The redemption archival sources related to Tétouan appear to use the term captive more than the term slave. However, it is important to recall the overall trend that most Christians were never ransomed and that the redemption archival sources likely do not cover majority of the slave population.

The information for redemptions and slave attrition provided in this and the previous chapter can show how the redemption archival sources did not refer to a majority of the slave population. Table 2-1 shows that 2,557 captives were rescued from Tétouan—or from Tétouan and another city. The source for this figure comes from 27 separate redemptions between the dates 1523 to 1673. All of these 2,557 captives were not redeemed from Tétouan alone.

However, if assume all of these 2,557 captives were redeemed from Tétouan, to the average of this count for each redemption to Tétouan is 100.52. Primary accounts for people who were held in Tétouan’s Mazmorras state more than 150 people were held within the dungeons, and historical sources also suggest additional slaves were held privately in the city (see Chapter 7).

However, if we use the low average estimate of 100 Mazmorra captives and apply Davis’ 17% total yearly rate of death (Davis 2003:23) to the same range of dates (1523–1692), we discover more captives die (2,890) than were redeemed. Even by giving unfair weight towards the argument for redemption figures, we discover that rescue and redemption does not accurately capture the lived experience of all Christians held in bondage. If captivity suggests a temporary state of servitude, then a rigid application of the term captive for these Christians is inappropriate.

An emic perspective on how Early Modern Spaniards classified themselves shows they used both the terms captive and slave. The archival sources do use both terms for Tétouan, but they do use the term captive more than slave. However, this should not be an argument to argue for the use of the term captive. The archival sources focus on people rescued from servitude and they do not discuss the majority of people who remained as slaves. Moreover, two historical accounts from Christians outside of this chapter’s focus on France and Spain support the mixed use of the terms captive and slave; both of these rescued people emphasize the term slavery over captive (d’Aranda 1665; K hn 1741). With this consideration, Robert Davis’ argument to use the word slave is relevant and applicable. Robert Davis took care to use the term slave, as slavery best characterizes Christian Slavery in modern language. However, my study is far smaller in scale. I prefer to have these people define themselves, with the caveat that most slaves in

Tétouan were not ransomed. I will use terms they used to describe themselves. I will use the terms slave and captive interchangeably.

CHAPTER 4 A LESSON IN MOROCCAN COMMUNICATION

I provide an autoethnographic account within the following three chapters to analyze personal experience in order to understand cultural experience outside the epistemological and axiological limitations of objective perspectives of social science fieldwork. Pure objectivity and neutrality in fieldwork is untenable, and the process of fieldwork is enmeshed with the personal experiences and subjectivity of the investigator (Bochner 2002; Denzin and Lincoln 2000; Rorty

1982). As a result, this autoethnographic section describes the author’s emotionality within punctuated transformative moments perceived to have altered the course of research. These transformative moments are analyzed experientially to illustrate elements of cultural difference to make the composition of this cultural exchange familiar.

This chapter is an autoethnographic account of the discovery of two important themes of this dissertation: collaboration and digital heritage. The process of understanding collaboration started in 2008 when I encountered several roadblocks while trying to engage Moroccan institutions. I realized that I needed to connect with intermediaries at many levels, be it international, national, or local. Although I dealt with institutions and their representatives at the national and international levels, the relationship with intermediaries at the local level was no longer institutional: it was personal. Creating and building personal relationships during my 2009 exploratory research in Morocco was an awkward and slow process of unlearning how

Americans communicate, negotiate, and conceive time. Through this process, I understood that engaging with intermediaries required negotiation and reciprocity, two concepts central to building collaborative relationships.

Discovering the Need for Intermediaries

When I first approached the prospect of researching Christian slavery in 2005–2006, I did so as an American student with degrees in History and Anthropology. I searched through the bibliographies of secondary sources to try to find clues on the location of a potential archaeological site where Christian slaves would have been held. I also contacted many scholars hoping that they could provide some help. Nearly all my email correspondence to various professors and officials in the United States, Europe, and North Africa between 2006 and 2008 was either unreturned or led to dead-ends. Robert Davis was the exception. His published materials and email correspondence were to become crucial for my research.

By 2008, I was fast approaching a point where my academic progress was stagnating and

I urgently needed to move forward with my research. I tried to arm myself with language skills and the funding necessary to visit Morocco, but failed to make it past alternate lists. My inability to find a specific archaeological site created a dilemma: I needed to fund exploratory investigations to locate a site in order to narrow my research questions, but I could not write a funding proposal without tailoring it to a specific location. The best solution was to find a sample of most likely locations along the large expanse of North Africa using documentary sources and to press forward the best that I could using this secondary data.

By mid-2008, I found two possible locations with archaeological potential for studying

Christian captivity in Morocco, a country with fairly good relations with the United States. We were nearly seven years past 9/11, but I still had concerns about possible cultural sensitivities and political hurdles that doctoral research about Christian slavery in North Africa could generate. Morocco seemed the best choice. The two sites were Habs Kara, in Meknes, and

Tétouan. In Tétouan, there was a vague description of an “enormous underground labyrinth that served to shelter slaves and the Christian captives during the heydays of piracy” (Amine 2007)

that coincided with oblique references to holding Christian enslaved captives in Friedman

(1983). The site in Meknes appeared like a viable option, because I could verify that it existed, as it was open to the public and was documented by historical sources. Conversely, I could not validate the presence of an “enormous underground labyrinth” in Tétouan either via phone call or from the literature. I quickly pressed forward to develop research contacts in Meknes and determine what clearances I needed for archaeological excavations.

By planning an exploratory investigation from the United States, I first gained a sense of how an American individual interacts with Moroccan institutions through intermediaries. I sent fruitless emails trying to find in-country interpreters and connections and to prepare research clearances for my trip. I widened my scope to approach people on campus (i.e. University of

Florida) with research experience in Morocco. In an email from a scholar working in Morocco, I was shown the necessity to engage Moroccan-based international organizations to act as intermediaries between Moroccan institutions and me. This was my first contact with understanding how the American individual and Moroccan institutions interact.

Scott:

You need to contact the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Rabat - and good luck with that. The Fulbright Commission in Rabat submitted my application for a research clearance in April of 2007 and it did not arrive until February 2008! Apparently, that was fast because it was associated with the Fulbright. Most of the time, it never arrives. To hold me over, the Fulbright simply provided a letter of explanation for me to show the authorities and officials whenever I was questioned. It usually worked when I was there for a brief period of time. However, when I was at my site for the long-term, I was harassed constantly by local officials. . . because I did not have an ‘official’ clearance. . . . In October 2007, the M.F.A. sent a fax to the Caid instructing them to stop the harassment - why didn’t they just send the damn clearance?

I would secure a letter of invitation from an internal agency. There is the Tangier American Legation Museum, or ‘TALMS.’ They provided a letter for me in the

summer of 2006 when I did pre-dissertation research. You want to talk to . . . the American director, and email him as soon as possible.1

From the communication above, it became clear that I had to find international, national, and local support if I was to move forward with my research plans. I needed American institutional intermediaries to facilitate communication with Moroccan institutions. I had to obtain national

Moroccan support for research clearance. It was also essential to hire local interpreters.

Basically, I needed to secure many connections.

I sought out cultural guidance and institutional support from two American institutions in

Morocco. Seven U.S.-based professors with academic fieldwork experience in Morocco all suggested Thor Kuniholm of the Tangier American Legation Museum Society (TALMS) as a good international intermediary. I received several delivery notification failures, asked colleagues for alternate email addresses, and received no reply. I then emailed Dr. Jim Miller of the Moroccan-American Commission for Educational and Cultural Exchange (MACECE) and

Fulbright-Morocco for additional information. I called him at his request. Dr. Miller clarified some of my issues by describing how communication in Morocco operates inversely to the

United States. In the U.S., it is customary to open communication with an email, then followed by phone conversation. A personal visit is not considered important for casual academic correspondence. In Morocco, the inverse is often true. Email can be considered too impersonal and ephemeral. Local contact is generally preferred, often over tea or coffee.

Equipped with this new information, I changed strategy; I needed to be physically present in Morocco to perform even exploratory communication with people. I formed all my plans around Habs Kara in Meknes and pushed the mention of an “underground labyrinth” in Tétouan out of my mind. I found a possible institutional connection near Meknes, the Al Akhawayn

1 Emails were edited for anonymity and clarity.

University, that offers a “globally oriented, English-language, liberal arts curriculum based on the American system” (Al Akhawayn University in Ifrane 2016) and sent out emails to every professor who spoke English. I received one reply from Dr. Abderrahmane Azennoud, professor of linguistics. He agreed to meet me and introduce me to some interpreters and knowledgeable people in Meknes. At this point, I felt like I had a plan: I had identified a site, found a local contact, and planned to visit MACECE in Rabat and TALMS in Tangier. That had to be sufficient.

Panoramic Possibilities at Habs Kara

Before I left for Meknes, I asked a friend and photography enthusiast, to recommend a point-and-shoot camera for my first trip to Habs Kara. Immediately, he dismissed the point-and- shoot camera. In order to shoot underground in low light, he emphasized that the overall image quality from a modern DSLR was considerably better than a compact point-and-shoot. All I had to do was to keep the camera stable on a tripod, open the shutter for a long length of time; images from low light sources would look much better. All of this seemed excessive, but I followed his suggestion.

I felt that, since I was bringing “professional” gear, I should consider more advanced applications for the photos that I would take of Habs Kara. I thought that I could take 360 degree photos and possibly parlay that effort into creating an immersive virtual environment. I had envisioned setting up the tripod, shooting photos in 360 degrees, mapping the location, and repeating this process thorough the structure. I could then use the photos to produce panoramas which could be linked together to create a computer-based visual walkthrough of the structure.

This would allow a person to remotely explore an archaeological site.

The Prison of Meknes

When I arrived in Meknes, I was eager to visit Habs Kara. I checked into my hotel, dropped off my luggage, grabbed my camera, and made my way to the “Prison of the Christian

Slaves,” not knowing what I would find. Habs Kara was massive, with a picturesque arcade, a succession of arches, each counter-thrusting the next. Blue-tinted noon sunlight penetrated the underground structure through some of the eroded holes in the ceiling, creating a complementary contrast with the orange-tinted earth tones of the structure below. The picturesque row of arches made for a visually appealing series of photos.

While I was taking photos of Habs Kara in 2009, I noticed what appeared to be a 1 meter x 2 meter excavation unit, approximately 1.5 meters in depth (Figure 4-2). I observed a large disturbed layer in the walls. Green ceiling tiles from the structure above the unit, the

Ambassadors Pavilion, were clearly visible in the walls of the excavation pit (Figure 4-3).

Professor Davis viewed my photos of the Pavilion and courtyard above the prison and remarked how the area had been transformed since his visit of the site two years prior. In 2007, he took several photographs (Figure 4-4), which he sent me to show how the entire courtyard had been repaved (Figure 4-5). A few years later, I saw the completion of this transformation (Figure

4-6). When I visited Habs Kara in 2013, the prison was decorated with a patina of antiquity: the floor had been paved and the eroded walls, reconstructed (Figure 4-7).

After receiving Davis’ email in 2009, it was clear that significant renovations were planned for Habs Kara. I was interested in knowing how these were managed and I planned to find people who could provide me information about the history and heritage management of the site. I suspected that I would need help navigating the local networks and the national bureaucracy if I wanted to conduct excavations at this site. I sought out Dr. Azennoud, my only contact in Meknes, to help me secure an interpreter and to guide me through the local Moroccan

bureaucracy. While I knew of other potential sites to investigate, Habs Kara seemed like the best choice and Azennoud, the best local connection. At the time, I dismissed other potential research locations in Algiers and Rabat, because I could not find an archaeologically intact site to investigate Christian slavery. Although some colleagues in the United States were doubtful that

Christian slavery was real, Habs Kara’s public presentation as a jail for Christian slaves set their issues aside.

Figure 4-1. Possible excavation unit at Habs Kara, in Meknes, Morocco, 2009. Photo by the author.

Figure 4-2. Green ceiling tiles from Koubbat as-Sufara (Ambassadors' Pavilion). Photo by the author.

Figure 4-3. The Koubba al Khayatine and the surface over Habs Kara, in 2007. Photo by Robert Davis.

Figure 4-4. The Koubba al Khayatine and the surface over Habs Kara, in 2009. Photo by the author.

Figure 4-5. Habs Kara in 2009. Photo by the author.

Figure 4-6. Habs Kara in 2013. Photo by the author.

The Cultural Nature of Negotiations and Communication

My understanding of the Moroccan style of negotiation, communication, and time began with my meetings with Dr. Azennoud. The process involved unlearning foreign negative preconceptions. American guide books give stern warnings regarding the Moroccan street. They emphasize a distinction between interactions in public and private spheres. Exchanges in the public space were described as aggressive, with vendors actively trying to convince you to buy their material. Conversely, private space was described as tranquil; if you ever had the great fortune to be invited to someone’s home, you were going to be in for a warm welcome. The problem is, perceiving the street as aggressive negatively influences one’s perspective and hides the goals of the cultural exchange between the vendor and the buyer. What the guide books mislabeled as an “aggressive” and “slow” form of communication is actually an effective method

of negotiations that leads to a fair and reciprocal exchange. My early interactions in Morocco were definitely tainted by these misconceptions.

For our first meeting, Dr. Azennoud arranged for us to meet at an outdoor table at the very European-looking Café Rossini in the Ville Nouvelle, or New City. Meknes, like many other

Moroccan cities, is divided into the Medina (old town) and the Ville Nouvelle, the part of town developed during European colonization. The Ville Nouvelle’s wide boulevards and quaint cafés would not be out of place in European cities and are starkly contrasted by the tight, winding pedestrian-only roads of the Medina. A Westerner like I may feel more at ease in the Ville

Nouvelle than the medina.

Dr. Azennoud met me with a warm greeting, in very good English. Although we sat at an outdoor table, his every gesture served to deconstruct public space and replace it with a sense of friendly private space. This was a transformation of the “aggressive” public space to a friendly quasi-private space. The creation of this quasi-private space on the street was connected to time.

Moroccan negotiation is a slow process by American standards. Where niceties are exchanged as an almost inconvenient afterthought in American negotiations, Azennoud was careful to slow the pace of the discussion and asked about everything from my flight, train, hotel, my family, to how

I felt at the moment. When I wanted to move the conversation to business, he kindly described the slower pace of Moroccan negotiations to me and how it was customary to unwind before talking business. He invited me to try a Moroccan mint tea, a drink found throughout the

Maghreb, made of green tea, spearmint leaves, and a nearly supersaturated solution of sugar.

This was the first of several meetings that would discuss my need for historical sources on Habs

Kara and for an interpreter.

Whereas all of my previous attempts in the U.S. and Morocco to connect with an interpreter or cultural liaison were unsuccessful, Azennoud showed tremendous interest in my project. He was very interested in connecting European and Arabic perspectives on Christian captivity and wanted to tie in local, hard-to-find textual documents on the subject. For instance, he knew several Arabic secondary historical sources that discussed slavery in Meknes. He offered to help me, outlining the assets that he could bring to my project, all of which pointed to his role as a cultural intermediary and historical guide. He knew many local dignitaries to whom he could introduce me. In a show of reciprocity, he offered these services in exchange for a seat on my committee so that he could be certain that our collaborative relationship was serious. I promptly accepted.

After I secured Dr. Azennoud a position on my committee, he introduced me to several important people in Meknes who offered their help. A local professor of architecture gave me some sources regarding Moulay Ismail ibn Sharif, the second ruler of the Moroccan Alaouite dynasty, who ruled between 1672 and 1727. He moved the Alaouite capital from Fez to Meknes and was responsible for bringing large amounts of slave labor to Meknes to build many structures, including Habs Kara. Through Azennoud’s contacts, I also acquired several French and Arabic historical sources.

While Azennoud was providing me with considerable help, I found myself struggling with cultural differences and representations in negotiations with his student interpreter. The first time we discussed the hire of an interpreter, Azennoud suggested that his student be paid at a price commensurate to Western wages, which I found to be costly, if not prohibitive. The initial discussions on costs must have elicited anxiety on my face, as Azennoud assured me to relax and not to worry. We would put off the topic of an interpreter for the next meeting. When I met the

student interpreter the next day, I made it very clear that I was not wealthy. I showed them pictures of me working at my blue-collar job as a wild-land firefighter. I described how the expenses for this trip were coming out of my pocket and how I earned 13 dollars per hour as an archaeologist with a Master’s degree working in hazardous active burn sites. After this discussion, prices shifted downward. However, due to time constraints, we agreed to have the student translator accompany me for an important meeting before we settled on a wage.

This conversation was my first experience in Moroccan negotiations! I quickly learned that the negotiation, disguised as a simple conversation, was effective in ascertaining what I could pay, even if we had not yet settled on a price. It was understandable that I was expected to reciprocate—in this case, with fair wages—when I was asking for considerable help from my

Moroccan contacts. Therefore, I tried to provide as many resources as I could while I assessed the feasibility of the Habs Kara project. However, I continued to struggle with the different cultural norms of negotiations, as the following interactions illustrate.

With my new translator and cultural advocate, Hind, I went to meet the local municipal archaeologist to inquire about the heritage management plans for Habs Kara and to ask about the feasibility of excavating inside the underground prison. The municipal archaeologist was openly skeptical whether the site was a jail for Christian slaves. He discussed how French archaeological research has instead proposed a function as granary. He showed me a page of a book in French, though I did not trust my ability to read French and quickly skim it to answer the many questions with which I was left. I asked Hind to inquire whether excavations were possible. The municipal archaeologist was openly dismissive of the site and wanted no part in excavations. Hind then spoke to the archaeologist in the local Moroccan dialect to advocate on

my behalf. After a short discussion, he became visibly frustrated with the continued discussion about the site. We thanked him for his time and left.

Later in the week, we met in Hind’s father’s office to negotiate the cost of the interpretation services. Azennoud was now working as an intermediary between Hind’s father and me. Hind’s father appeared to be a successful man, judging by the impressive layout and location of his office. His secretary presented a spectacular display of Moroccan pastries and

Moroccan tea. It was clear that I could damage relations between Professor Azennoud and this important man if negotiations did not run smoothly. In some ways, I could repay Azennoud by giving him the opportunity to demonstrate his proficiency as a successful intermediary with this powerful businessman.

Azennoud opened the negotiations after the customary café meeting and small-talk exchange by asking what I expected to pay. From my discussions with other academics working in Morocco, $30 per day seemed to be more than fair. Azennoud countered, saying people earned

50€ per hour where he worked. Hind, my translator, had already worked for me about six to eight hours over several days. I was simply unable to pay the figures suggested. My stomach dropped.

Being quite naturally demonstrative and expressive, I am certain that my displeasure was telegraphed through my body language. I exclaimed: “that’s more than I make at my job as an archaeologist.” He asked me if I wanted more coffee and told me not to worry about this because

Hind was doing work like this to feel busy. Afterwards, I called the U.S. Embassy in Rabat to get a “ballpark” figure for a student interpreter for 6 to 8 hours. They told me 700–1000 dirhams

(approximately 85–120 dollars). It became clear that I was involved in a standard cross-cultural bargaining process. The negotiations were designed to ascertain what I could pay. I took the high quote from the Embassy and held at 1,000 dirhams. I wanted to be done with the negotiation

process while giving the impression of being fair. This was essential in maintaining good relationships with my local contacts. The interpreter countered with 1,500 dirhams, upping her estimated hours of work, mentioning that she worked about ten hours, not including driving time.

I disagreed and I told her how much I was paid and clarified that this was good money, even by

U.S. standards. I asked her if she wanted to go over the hours. She mentioned that this was unnecessary and clarified that we were friends. She then said 1,000 dirhams was fine. I later met with Dr. Azennoud and Hind and everyone was in great spirits. Despite the successful negotiations, I was slightly upset by a process that continued to appear jarring to me. I still had much to learn.

Azennoud noticed my cultural discomfort with how the negotiations proceeded. As an olive branch, he brought me to the souk and helped me buy a leather bag. He told me: “I paired you with Hind because she is a good student and doesn’t really need the money. She wouldn’t take advantage of you.” As a treat and to show that there was no ill will, he offered a master class demonstration in Moroccan negotiations. In the souk, Azennoud and a merchant engaged in a complex negotiation process that was both subtle and hyperbolic. The gesticulations, demonstrative behavior, and exasperation seemed to mirror my emotions, except that it clearly was theater. The aggressiveness was just an impersonal part of the process of negotiation; it lacked hostility or hurt. I greatly appreciated this lesson from Dr. Azennoud and more closely understood his advice on how to converse with Moroccans.

The Shortcomings of Habs Kara

Azennoud was very helpful and put considerable effort in assisting my project. He introduced me to many people in Meknes and located Arabic historical sources for my research.

At the same time, nothing short of surprising, his actions were not disinterested. Operating as an

intermediary was advantageous to him as well. My main problem was that I lacked the financial resources to adequately repay him for all his help.

Language barriers and potential financial constraints were only some of my concerns with developing an archaeological project at Habs Kara, Meknes. From my observations and research, I gathered that Habs Kara had experienced significant structural alterations that likely impacted the archaeological integrity of the site. There also were political concerns. The local municipal archaeologist was far from enthusiastic about my project idea and possible interpretation of the site as prison for Christian slaves, although this did not necessarily rule out excavations. Understanding that the negotiation process would be slow also added more concerns to those of time, cost, and politics.

The site of Habs Kara had seemed like a “sure thing” before I left for Morocco, but half- way into my short trip, I had several significant issues with the project. In the United States, I had identified other potential sites in Rabat, Algiers, and Tétouan, but none seemed as feasible as

Habs Kara. Unfortunately, I now needed a plan B.

CHAPTER 5 A JOURNEY OF DISCOVERY: FROM MEKNES TO TÉTOUAN

On May 8th, 2009, an older Australian couple invited me for a chat on the roof of our hotel. They were curious as to what a young archaeologist was doing in Meknes, so I gave them a short summary of my project and its difficulties. When they heard my story, they wondered if I was aware of Tétouan to the north, because their guide book referred to a prison of sorts for

Christians in this city. My eyes narrowed and I filled with a strange mix of elation and recollection. I told them, “yes, I heard about Tétouan, but not about a particular site in Tétouan.”

I could never find a solid location for a prison of Christian slaves in Tétouan. Now, here were some tourists offering this information to me, in a guide book of all places!

(Re)discovering Tétouan

The first time I encountered Tétouan in relation to Christian slavery was in Ellen

Friedman’s 1983 work, Spanish Captives in North Africa in the Early Modern Age. Her work is widely cited and constitutes a seminal work on the subject of Christian slaves and captives in the

Early Modern period. She mentions the city 18 times in her book. Tétouan held an important position in the post-Reconquista conflict between Christians from the Iberian Peninsula and exiled Muslims and Jews of what used to be Islamic Spain. The Spanish Reconquista led to the expulsion of Jews and Muslims from Spain, who took refuge in various locations, including

Tétouan (see Chapter 2 for more details). In fact, Jewish and Muslim exiles rebuilt Tétouan after it was destroyed by Portuguese forces in the 15th century and continued to resettle there after the

Reconquista. For instance, the population of Tétouan doubled after the 1609 expulsion of

Moriscos—the Moors who were forced to convert to Christianity in Iberia.

The three religious Iberian groups mired in the centuries-long Reconquista were involved in a complex continuation of conflict and cooperation in North Africa after Christian forces re-

conquered the Iberian Peninsula. Tétouan and the Spanish garrison of Ceuta, located on the Strait of Gibraltar on the north coast of Morocco, provided a newly formed nexus between Iberian

Christians and exiled Andalusian Muslims and Jews through the exchange of captives. These exiles built in Tétouan one of the major non-Ottoman controlled Mediterranean corsairing fleets that helped contribute to the rise in the capture of Christians in the 16th and 17th centuries.

I would soon realize that this connection between Iberia and North Africa was vital for my work but obscured by modern classifications. The Mediterranean, and by definition the

Straits of Gilbratar, is often seen as dividing two worlds, that of Islam and Christianity, rather than connecting regions through maritime transport. One expression of this Iberian and Maghrebi connection was the networks of capture, enslavement, and ransom of Christians in North Africa during the Early Modern period. Situating Tétouan within the context of a North African frontier between Christian and Islamic space provided me access to cultural information that would otherwise have remained hidden.

For instance, my initial research was misled by the use of many different spellings and transliterations to designate Tétouan in the literature. The spelling that I use in my early research,

“Tétouan,” comes from French. Friedman (1983) prefers the Castilian (Spanish) version, Tetuán.

Some older sources use transliterated spellings of the Berber or Arabic words for the city, such as Titawin, Tituan, or Tittawan. I had not considered using alternative spellings in my queries, focusing instead on the modern spelling, which dates to the French protectorate of Morocco.

An inaccurate site description also sent me looking for the wrong thing. In May 2008, I first encountered a description of a possible Christian slave prison in “Titawin” (Tétouan) in an online reference by Khalid Amine (2007): “the Mtamar district that was constructed on an enormous underground labyrinth that served to shelter slaves and the Christian captives during

the heydays of piracy.” My attempts to contact Dr. Amine were unsuccessful. I made phone calls to several municipal offices in Morocco. I managed to find someone who spoke Spanish to ask about this “underground labyrinth,” but my interlocutor did not know of a site that fit the description. The report of an underground dungeon shaped as a labyrinth was misleading. I was translating the word “labyrinth” directly into the Spanish word laberinto and could not find evidence for such a thing. I would soon find out that the name for the Christian slave site in

Tétouan is mazmorras, a Spanish word for dungeon. Reframing my research using Spanish words would provide me new evidence.

Plan B

The Australian couple did not have their guide book at hand, but they were certain that an underground site known to be a place for Christian slaves existed in Tétouan. An underground site in the medina was particularly exciting because it might have escaped the ravages of urban expansion. Davis (2003:135) notes that, along North Africa, most of the sites related to Christian bondage have been heavily disturbed, vanished, or obliterated by time and urban expansion.

Excited by the prospect of an extant site, I pursued Tétouan as my Plan B.

That evening, I went to a late night internet café and started investigating Tétouan. I called my roommate back in the United States and had her read some of my notes, whereupon she found two important excerpts. The first was a note that “the term mazmorras refers to cramped damp silos that house 20–30 people” and the second was the title “Las Mazmorras de la

Alhambra.” These excerpts were from my notes on Jarbel Rodríguez’s 2007 Captives and their

Saviors in the Medieval Crown of Aragon, a book that I read when I was investigating options to research Christian slavery in Al-Andalus. I thought that the Spanish word mazmorra explicitly referred to sites in Spain and I did not contemplate then that Spanish terms could be used in my search for sites in Morocco. What I did not understand at the time was that the term mazmorra

had Arabic roots and was part of the cultural exchange between the Iberian Peninsula and the

Maghreb (see Chapter 2 for more details). Tétouan was part of this cultural exchange.

This oversight caught me off-guard. Before this trip, I had asked many Spanish academics via email whether they knew of any existing sites related to Christian slavery. Those who replied all said that they were aware of none. Connecting my notes on Rodríguez’s book with my conversation with the Australian tourists, I took a chance and started researching dungeons for Christian slaves in Morocco, this time in Spanish. Changing my search terms to mazmorras and Tetuán revealed a world of new information. I found several references to a specific subterranean dungeon in Tétouan called the Mazmorras that held Christian slaves.

Although I understood Morocco to be a cultural crossroads between Europe and North Africa, I had followed modern borders and restricted Spanish search terms to Spain.

Dr. Azennoud also provided some help. He mentioned the name of a Tétouani professor,

Dr. Mhamed Benaboud. One of his online articles described Tétouan’s Mazmorras in detail

(Benaboud n.d.). Davis also sent me two first-hand accounts of people who were held in mazmorras in Morocco. Germain Moüette (1683:101) described the Mazmorras of Salé, Alcazar, and Tétouan as exceptionally filthy with terrible tortures. Emanuel d’Aranda (1666), who was jailed in Tétouan’s Mazmorras, wrote a first-hand account of the Mazmorras in the 17th century:

This Masmora is a Vault thirty foot under ground divided into three partitions. The greatest of the three is about twenty eight foot in length, and twenty four in breadth; the two others are less. And there were commonly detain'd there an hundred and seven∣ty Christian Slaves. This prison hath no other light than that of three gates which are above in the mid'st of the Street, and at each of these grates there is a hook fasten'd to a Line; and when in the day time any Christians pass by, they charitably bring water to the poor Slaves; or if they have money, they buy somewhat for them; and the hook and line serve to let down what they would give them. The Jaylor or Keeper of this prison suffers not any body to come in without giving him something. There is no Privy in it, but the prisoners and Slaves use pots as they do in Spain, and those pots are hung about the Walls, and so serve both for Tapistry and perfume. Besides they are not to be empty'd till night, and then an

Officer opens one of the grates, and they are drawn up by the hook. And for every pot that is empty'd, there must be paid a Bobe, that is about half a farthing, which methinks is a great cruelty, and yet all those who are put into that miserable prison, are forc'd to lye on the ground, unless they are permitted to hang up Hammocks made of Cords against the Walls, as they do in Ships. But there are so many people, and the place is so streight, that the poor Slaves are forc'd to crow'd together, and lye like so many Herrings. Thence it comes that in the Summer time especially, there is such abundance of Vermine, and so much other nastiness, that it is as troublesome being there as rowing in the Gallies. It was our fortune to be there in Winter. But what troubled us most was, that in the night time, when all were laid in their places, some lewd Boys, Moors, to vex the poor Christians, would cast in filth, stones, water, and other things through the grates. This happen'd some nights three or four times, and that alarm oblig'd all who lay neer the grates to rise; for all lying on the ground, he who rose not presently was in danger of being trampled under-foot by his companions, the floor being all cover'd with bodies. (d’Aranda 1666:59–60)

Spanish search terms uncovered more recent confirmation for the existence of the site. I found that, while Tétouan was under Spanish rule (1912–1956), a Spanish archaeologist named

César Luis de Montalbán y Mazas performed a perfunctory exploration, mapping, and cleaning of Tétouan’s Mazmorras in 1921. His study contains illustrations of the interior of the

Mazmorras, including its rustic chapel (Montalbán 1929; Figure 5-1) and descriptions of the rooms inside the dungeon. With all of these sources, Tétouan as a Plan B was quickly becoming a strong research possibility.

From Meknes to Tétouan

The unanticipated shortcomings encountered in Meknes led me to evaluate what to do with the remaining week I had left on my 2009 trip. I had to decide whether I would stay in

Meknes or go investigating Tétouan. Habs Kara had potential as a research site. On one hand, the damages to and reconstruction of the site could be a problem for the archaeological excavations.

On the other hand, the disturbance and continued remodeling did not mean that the archaeological context for the entire site was completely compromised. The underground site was massive and the significant remodeling could be parlayed as an argument to minimize the

impact that archaeological excavations would have on the site. At the same time, securing the support of the municipal archaeologist was another source of ambivalence. His rejection of the site’s archaeological value did not rule out the possibility of engaging him as a collaborator. I was hoping that I could pitch a project that would minimize his investment while maximizing positive results if archaeological remains were to be found.

A B

Figure 5-1. Drawings of the interior of the Mazmorras. A) Altar of the Capilla de Nuestra Señora de los Dolores, as seen from the front door (Montalbán 1929). B) Entrance to the Capilla de Nuestra Señora de los Dolores, as seen from the “High Altar” (Montalbán y Mazas1929:16, 21).

Staying in Meknes also brought another set of worries. I found negotiations to be challenging because they took place in a language that I did not speak, Arabic and French. My trip was also becoming increasingly more expansive than what I could afford. I became concerned about how much money I would need to conduct an excavation in Habs Kara and about having to rely on an interpreter to run a large archaeological excavation. Such a project

had the potential to be time-intensive and the hourly rate that I was currently paying made the idea cost-prohibitive.

By May 13th, I felt that I had spent sufficient time in Meknes for a preliminary investigation. I had made important contacts and mapped and took hundreds of photos of the site.

I discussed the situation with my doctoral chair, Dr. Peter Schmidt, and he agreed that it was time to move on to another site. Although I had more than a week left, I actually was nearly running out of time. I only had two business days left: May 14, 2009 fell on a Wednesday, and the following day was a Thursday. In the Maghreb, Friday is a holy day and many offices are closed or close early. If I want to schedule an appointment to meet with any Moroccan officials,

Friday is a bad choice.

I needed to accomplish two things with my remaining time: 1) find the Mazmorras in

Tétouan; and 2) meet with officials to inquire about gaining access to the site, if it existed. I plan to arrive on Sunday in the Moroccan capital, Rabat, to accomplish three things. On Sunday, I would investigate Davis’ mention of a slave market called Souk el Ghezel near the casbah. On

Monday, I would meet with two people, Mitchell Cohn, the Cultural Affairs Officer in the U.S.

Embassy in Rabat, and Saadia Maski from the Moroccan-American Commission for Educational and Cultural Exchange (MACECE), to find out the appropriate people to contact if I wanted to enter the Mazmorras in Tétouan. On Tuesday and Wednesday, I would try to find the Mazmorras of Tétouan and to make contacts for future work. In Tétouan, I would try using the lessons of Dr.

Azennoud on negotiation and communication to create and nurture contacts in this city.

In Rabat, I achieved some of my goals. I asked to visit the Souk el Ghezel and was shown two locations. The first was an impressive gatehouse and a parking lot, and the second was a wool market. Both of these appeared to be poor candidates for an archaeological excavation. My

meetings with Mitchell Cohn and Saadia Maski did not quite bring the desired results. Both were warm, receptive, and friendly, and tried to help me the best they could. Together they provided a list of five people to contact, some of whom worked for the Moroccan Ministry of Culture.

However, I received no responses after emailing these contacts. This was a clear testimony to the need for face-to-face contacts in the part of the world. In sum, I was going to Tétouan alone and with no idea of what to expect once I was there.

Arrival at Tétouan

Approaching via bus through long winding roads into Morocco’s green and mountainous

North, Tétouan opens up as a collection of white-washed buildings in a sloping valley of the Rif

Mountains. After I checked into my hotel and dropped off my bags, I walked the streets to make a quick assessment on foot. I only had a couple of hours before sunset. Much like Meknes and many other Moroccan cities, Tétouan was divided in a Ville Nouvelle, a Medina, and a Mellah

(Old Jewish quarter). Wide boulevards stretch around the city’s Medina and Mellah. Walking on the east side of the city, I observed huge limestone outcroppings that gave me a great deal of hope (Figure 5-2). Limestone has natural karsts, or caves and voids; a dungeon could have been built in one of these natural caves. Walking further east, I saw clear evidence for limestone caves that were boarded off along the eastern road that encircles the medina (Figure 5-3). In Tétouan, an underground site may have been spared destruction by urban expansion because large modern constructions and motor vehicles are prohibited in the medina. The sun was setting and I returned to my hotel energized by the prospects of finding a sealed site with good archaeological context that had been spared the devastation of urban expansion.

Figure 5-2. Limestone outcropping, Tétouan, Morocco. Photo by the author.

Figure 5-3. Boarded off cave entrance, Tétouan, Morocco. Photo by the author.

I woke up the next morning with a sense of zeal mixed with desperation. When I first arrived in Morocco, I disliked being “enthusiastically approached” on the street; now I saw it as welcome gesture to open a reciprocal relationship. I now had a better sense on how to build a fair and reciprocal relationship using Moroccan tactics of communication and negotiation. All I needed was to find were interested parties to start this process. But first, I wanted to see if I could find the Mazmorras on my own.

I walked in the direction of the Medina hoping to find a guide. I did not have to wait long to be approached. Within half an hour, a teenager looked at me and asked “Medina?” To my surprise, he spoke Spanish. I told him that I wanted to see the Mazmorras. He replied that he could not, but he could introduce me to someone who could. This was great news. This teenager was going to be my temporary intermediary. We walked some distance inside the Medina and came upon a tall man with close-cropped hair and business attire. The man introduced himself as

Hassan El Afia in a nearly fluent Castilian Spanish. I told Hassan that I was a doctoral student in archaeology and I was interested in seeing the Mazmorras. He said that he could introduce me to the right people and show me the door to the dungeons. Elated, I paid the teenager for his help and I asked Hassan to lead the way.

Hassan led me back to the city center, towards what appeared to be a government building with a guard post and Moroccan flags flanking the entrance. From what I could see, this was an archaeology museum. We walked down several hallways and entered a gentleman's office. Hassan introduced me to a man, who also responded in Castilian Spanish. This was Dr.

Mehdi Zouak, a paleontologist and the Regional Director of Culture in Tangier and Tétouan. He seemed very interested in my project and asked me many questions about my research. The conversation turned very warm. He told me that we would not be able to get in the Mazmorras

today, but he would be excited to help me with my research. He gave me his contact information and looked forward to working with me in the future.

Here in Tétouan, I was using Castilian Spanish, my second language, to communicate; this helped make conversations more relaxed and natural. In Meknes, I had had significant problems communicating with people. My Arabic was at a basic level at best and I had little working knowledge of the local dialect, Darija. French was certainly more widely used in

Meknes, but my French was not passable. Conversely, Tétouan has a deep connection with Spain and I frequently heard Castilian Spanish on the street. Therefore, my conversations in Tétouan were much more productive.

I asked Hassan to take me to the entrance of the Mazmorras. He objected, saying that we could not get in and that he did not see the point. I insisted, saying that I just wanted to see the door. I wanted to take a photo of the door, take a look at the outside, and get a better idea of the site. He agreed and led me into the medina.

Up until now, I had avoided walking far into the medina. The narrow walkways are winding and the walls are often obscured by a continually moving mass of people. It can be a disorienting place for outsiders. The Medina in some ways creates an architectural barrier to outsiders, dividing the in- and out-groups. An intermediary is needed to navigate the space. I walked past an array of goods for sale that obscured the walls: Berber women selling agricultural products, men selling juice, and counterfeit clothing. We walked deeper into the interior of the medina and stopped at a location where the walkway widened. Hassan pointed to a large metal door in the floor and said this was the entrance of the Mazmorras (Figure 5-4).

Located near the street sign, El Mtamar, a large metal door covered the sealed dungeons below. This was deep into the medina, far from vehicular traffic. Unlike Habs Kara, the

underground structure appeared to be intact. The buildings above the Mazmorras would not have survived a collapse of the underground Mazmorras; they appeared to be hundreds of years old.

Later, I would realize that the local toponymy was filled with clues on the location of the

Mazmorras. Indeed, the door to the Mazmorras was located on Mtamar Street (the Arabic word for mazmorras), itself situated in the Mtamar neighborhood.

Figure 5-4. Entrance to the Mazmorras on El Mtamar Street (in the street, under the Carrion sign, on the left), Tétouan, Morocco. Notice the Mtamar yellow street sign above the staircase on the right. Photo by the author.

I left Morocco with two sites for potential research: Habs Kara in Meknes and the

Mazmorras of Tétouan. Habs Kara had first appeared as a good option but I had hit several roadblocks: unfriendly local bureaucracy, need for an interpreter, and possible time- and cost- prohibitive project. In Tétouan, the Mazmorras had great archaeological potential and I had established good contacts with the Ministry of Culture in Tétouan. Moreover, it became clear

that I would not need an interpreter in this Spanish-speaking part of the country. The biggest complication regarding the Mazmorras was to gain entrance to the site. At this moment, Plan B turned into my Plan A and I set out trying to figure out how to secure access to Tétouan’s

Mazmorras. This is the focus of the next chapter.

CHAPTER 6 DIGITAL HERITAGE AND THE COLLABORATION CONTINUUM

By mid-2012, my project was facing a crisis of time and funding. Three years had passed since my exploratory trip to Morocco in 2009. I made a follow-up visit to Morocco in 2010 to refresh contacts and discuss research proposals. My research goal was to help resolve historical contentions on Christian slavery in North Africa through archaeological research. Unfortunately, my proposals were unfocused and my six attempts to secure American funding were unsuccessful. A crisis of urgency provided focus for my research.

In May 2012, I reached out to several contacts in Tétouan to get updates on the

Mazmorras and I received some alarming news. Dr. Benaboud, a scholar in Tétouan, told me that plans were underway for a major restoration of Tétouan’s Mazmorras. I asked who would perform archaeological salvage in the dungeons. He replied that there were no provisions for archaeological work. Benaboud suggested that I contact Dr. Mehdi Zouak, the local delegate to the Ministry of Culture. Zouak confirmed the restoration plans, and was receptive to the proposal of working together on a heritage plan that could lead to an excavation within the dungeon.

As a result, I changed my research focus from documenting Christian slavery in North

Africa to conducting a collaborative rescue historical and archaeological investigation of

Tétouan’s Mazmorras. I proposed to digitally preserve the site, corroborate archaeological research with archival and primary sources, examine this site’s role within small-scale networks of capture and ransom, and show the relocation of interfaith frontiers from the Iberian Peninsula southward to Morocco. The focus on rescue brought urgency to resolve historical questions before the archaeological context would be gone forever. The viability of the project was reinforced by an association with Moroccan collaborators.

The Collaboration Continuum

This chapter discusses time, digital heritage, and the process of collaboration. In this project, I would find myself lost in a foreign culture. Local politics were confusing. My concept of time was different. Events happened slowly. For this project, I needed to access a long-sealed dungeon, and access would not come quickly. I was asking to have my needs met. What was I providing in return?

In an edited volume, Colwell-Chanthaphonh and Ferguson provide some clarification on how relationships move towards the goal of collaboration. In this volume, they describe collaboration as a continuum that spans from resistance to participation, to collaboration. The degrees of support and stakeholder involvement change depending on degree of collaboration.

Resistance is at the lowest level, and can imply forced or no collaboration. Ignoring the needs, goals, and voices of local actors would result in limited or no support. Limited or no support can lead to both an increasingly inaccurate and unethical project. In between resistance and collaboration is the participation stage. Local stakeholders have some voice and will have some of their needs met. Likewise, the project will receive some support. At the highest end, full collaboration represents full stakeholder involvement and shared goals. With full collaboration, local support is tacit, and the needs of all parties are realized.

For Colwell-Chanthaphonh and Ferguson’s description a collaborative approach improves relations with local scholars. Tétouan has several well-regarded local scholars

(Lebaddy 2009:18–19). Local scholars, such as Nadia Erzini, Mohammed Benaboud, and Mehdi

Zouak all have several publications on the history and heritage of the city. These scholars are not disinterested parties; they are concerned about the quality of research. They are both producers and curators of their local histories, and they have a vested interest in its production. Recent political changes in Morocco have increased the power of local authorities to manage heritage.

Shortly after his accession to the throne in 1999, King Mohammed VI accelerated a series of reforms aimed at decentralizing power to increase in regional authority. Decentralization increased the power of subnational authorities and local stakeholders (Azzarhrae Chaabani and

Ghayam 2010:128–130, 132–133). Securing archaeological access to restricted urban sites in

Tétouan can involve an array of overlapping institutions, with unclear but important local social and political dynamics. The maze of institutions and local social relationships recall the winding structure of the Medina, where it is unwise to enter without either local knowledge of the help of a guide. Nurturing reciprocity and mutuality at the local level is essential to provide guidance through complex and obscured social and institutional relationships that control access to restricted heritage sites. However, building these local relationships took time.

Time and Collaboration

In Time, Children, and Getting Ethnography Done In Southern Morocco, Karen Rignall

(2013:52) links a sense of Moroccan patience to a more relaxed sense of time. I would discover the process of building relationships involve a slow pace. My hurried persistence to enter the

Mazmorras was met with a Moroccan sense of patience as I altered my sense of time.

My Fulbright-Hays grant was eight months long. In 2012, an eight month archaeological project felt endless. My experience of time and archaeology came from the Forest Service. Our archaeology projects were associated with time-sensitive emergency excavations. Forest fires would burn whole stands of timber. We would archaeologically clear areas for heavy machinery to harvest the timber. If we moved slowly, the government could lose hundreds of thousands of dollars. Archaeological excavations moved quickly, despite conditions. Several times I led archaeological field excavations in areas that were still smoldering. Occasionally trees would ignite around us. We would excavate in fire retardant gear for protection and press forward. I wrote my Fulbright-Hays grant while leading a 12 person archaeological excavation in the

smoldering aftermath of a forest fire. This experience influenced my sense of time when I wrote my grant for an eight month length in Morocco.

I would discover a reoriented sense of time in Morocco. What once felt endless turned short. For example, Guillermo Gozalbes Busto wrote several publications on the Mazmorras in the 1980s and 1990s. He tried and failed to gain access. In Morocco, eight months was hardly enough time to enter the Mazmorras. My sense of time was incompatible with a Moroccan culture.

The continuum of practices that Colwell-Chanthaphonh and Ferguson present emphasizes meeting needs and reciprocity to build collaboration. They cite an interview by Leigh

Kuwanwisiwma to describe collaboration as at once deeply ethical, equal, and also one of reciprocity. Charlotte Seymore-Smith, in “Fieldwork,” defines the concept of collaboration and reciprocity simply as “to perform some a useful or valued service in return for the collaboration he or she requires” (1986:117). My professional archaeological experience helped to inform how digital heritage complimented relationship building. What I would discover is that digital heritage would act as a catalyst to activate the slow process of collaboration.

Digital Heritage and Early Plans

After I accepted my Fulbright grant, I considered how to use some of these funds to supplement my archaeological skillset in Morocco with digital heritage. My work in the United

States Forest Service as an archaeologist informed this course. My experience as a professional archaeologist revealed how digital heritage methods can be used for both research and to build human relations. An integral part of my archaeological work in the U.S. government involved collaboration with other teams in timber, recreation, and fire management. The digital heritage production of our work was favored most, by far. The images and maps we produced communicated massive datasets easily and clearly. In fact, other teams occasionally requested

our skillset on map creation and GIS work for nonarchaeological purposes. Our assistance helped create a more collaborative environment, where met needs created reciprocal bonds.

I sought to build on my experience with digital heritage to both improve my dissertation research and to help foster collaboration in Morocco. First, I bought several pieces of survey gear with my grant money, such as a Topcon Total Station, tripod, and mini prism so I could offer survey skills to the project. I would sell the total station upon return to the U.S. to fund laboratory fees for radiocarbon dating. I purchased a laptop and prepared it with the software I used professionally for the creation of digital heritage.

I also investigated supplemental ways to digitally preserve the site and artifacts. One option for a three-dimensional method to digitally preserve the site came from a discussion with

Professor Dewitt at the Engineering department at the University of Florida. He described a photogrammetric to create a three dimensional representation visible through stereographic displays. Since I would have the tripod and total station needed to execute this method, I considered it as a distinct possibility. A more flexible option came from using a Microsoft Kinect and a laptop to create a dense three-dimensional point cloud of interior spaces (Whelan et. al.

2012). With this point cloud, a virtual tour can be constructed and used for virtual tours.

After my first month in Tétouan, I suspected that I needed a different plan for three- dimensional viewing reconstruction. I was facing delays in accessing the Mazmorras, and felt that I needed an expedient and visually impressive solution to help advocate my position.

Dewitt’s solution, while nice, required me to return to the United States to render the images and required specialized equipment for viewing. Whelan’s solution using point clouds relied on the use of a lot of light for accuracy. The Mazmorras were dark and underground with no provisions

for electrical power, and my battery-powered lighting options could be inadequate. At this point I revisited the unfinished panorama method I shot in 2009 in Habs Kara.

Panoramic Methods and Virtual Tours

Creating a virtual tour with photographic images presented several technical advantages.

This option was flexible and I could carry all the equipment myself. Some testing in my apartment demonstrated I could shoot properly exposed images alone, in pitch black, with a tripod and the assistance of a bounced flash, headlamp and flashlight. Electrical power and additional lighting was unnecessary. This option was also expedient. I discovered I could stitch these images into a working panoramic view quickly. I could shoot images in the morning, return to my apartment that afternoon, and have a final product late that evening. This option was extremely accessible. I could place the tour online to be viewed on any laptop or desktop computer.

To test the photographic panorama method of virtual tour, I compiled the unused images from the Habs Kara virtual tour using several methods and ultimately created a three- dimensional tour using joined panoramas. I completed and hosted the Habs Kara virtual tour online on January 31 to both test its accessibility along different platforms to gauge their responses. The positive reactions I received from friends and members of my committee were extremely encouraging. This striking and positive response with expedient methods was exactly what I needed to impress audiences in Morocco. In order to create a proper three-dimensional tour, I needed link a series of floor-to-ceiling panoramas together to create a sense of immersive space within the Mazmorras and to preserve their appearance preceding any restorative activities.

Creating floor-to-ceiling panoramas in a dark interior space is very challenging. First, I purchased a 10-24 mm lens to shoot ultra-wide photos, allowing for fewer images per panorama.

Because of the poor lighting, exposures would need 30 seconds with repeated attempts to

achieve optimum lighting. Photographing the entire structure would be time consuming, and I had concerns my time in the dungeons would be limited. Also, the process of stitching images in dark environments can be very problematic because of the variability of exposures. Ultra-wide images sharply reduce the potential for error by limiting the required exposures and increasing overlap.

Second, I purchased a panoramic head to shoot the images without parallax errors. A panoramic head allows the camera to rotate around the entrance pupil of the lens. This device allows the overlapped areas images to align precisely with each other. Without this precaution, the images change in position relative to each other, otherwise known as parallax error. In tight interior spaces, problems of parallax error in the creation of panorama magnify. Centering a camera perfectly on the entrance pupil allowed me to create an accurate floor to ceiling immersive panoramas.

By the first of February 2013, I was ready to present my plan of digital preservation and archaeological rescue with the demonstration of creation of virtual tours to be used to demonstrate technical proficiency with an attention grabbing and accessible method—a way to draw potential local collaborators into engaged participation. Certainly European archaeological firms were equipped to do this work. However, I was proposing to perform this work alone, for free, and without the bureaucratic bulk that comes with organizing team-based archaeological excavations. With the demonstration of the virtual tour, I could follow-up with describing my years of experience managing archaeological teams in hazardous conditions, proficiency with surveying, mapping, GIS, all skills that would add to the appeal of collaboration.

The Participation Stage of Collaboration

In early February, Dr Zouak introduced me to a larger local initiative on the Mazmorras.

This group included another historical expert and the Secretary General of the Mediterranean

network of the Medinas and Elected representative to the Tétouan Council of the Tangier-

Tétouan region. We planned to meet during the following week to propose a plan of action.

During this meeting, I learned that plans for restoring the Mazmorras had been underway for roughly two years.

During these meetings, there was a discussion about opening the site to the public for tourism. It became clear to me that my participation constituted a small part of a larger and very invasive project. I gave a quick summary of my archaeological plan as it existed in February

2013. After our meeting, Dr. Zouak invited me to speak at the IIème Forum International des

Villes Historiques. We both felt I should present the digital preservation of heritage sites, specifically virtual tours, and 3D point clouds reconstructions of structures and artifacts. Since my panorama equipment was going to arrive by mid-February, Dr. Zouak and I decided to delay plans to enter the Mazmorras upon arrival of my equipment.

In February and March delays to enter the Mazmorras persisted. Reasons proffered for delays ranged from heavy rain fall, to scheduling conflicts, to other complications that were unclear to me. Several times, I waited outside a meeting place near Bab Okla, a prominent gate to the Medina near Dr. Zouak’s office, only to discover our plans were cancelled. Dr. Zouak was kind, assuring me that I would gain access. I worried I would have nothing to present for the conference. Several additional cancelled appointments passed, and it became clear I needed to alter the content and approach to my presentation.

I shifted my presentation to a general focus on flexible and inexpensive technical solutions for the digital preservation of heritage sites. I hoped to impress people with visual effects and open some doors. As the conference took place, I discovered a clue suggesting how cultural perceptions can influence reciprocity.

Americanness and Reciprocity

It was March 15, 2013, and I was in a petit taxi on my way to the Iième Forum

International des Villes Historiques in I, Morocco, to give a talk on new and economical digital preservation methods of historical sites. As I was rehearsing my speech, I nursed the hope that the cocktail of drugs I recently ingested would contain the intense bout of food poisoning I was suffered for the last four days. The taxi stopped in front of the Wilaya de I, an impressive and imposing palatial government structure on the outskirts of the city, near the airport. Hoping my illness would pass, I had missed the other days of the conference. It did not, and I hoped that I had taken enough medication to stop my symptoms.

Making my way inside the Wilaya, I was directed into a massive and ornately decorated room. Huge chandeliers hung from a ceiling ornamented with geometric patterns. Television crews were organizing the lighting in the room. I sought out the woman who was organizing the technical aspects of the talk since I needed to make sure the most impressive part of my talk, the virtual tour, worked on the conference computer. It did not. I brought several options to run the virtual tour, including using my laptop, installing the tour on a local computer, and accessing the tour via the web. The virtual tour was the visually engaging crescendo of my talk and having it fail would turned my talk from an engaging presentation to a boring discussion on computer code and technical terminology. The lady mulled over the options and told me she was going to give me personal access to the internet to make my tour work. We tested it, and relieved, I thanked her for her help.

The room was now filling with dignitaries and members of the press, adding to the hot stuffiness that comes with hundreds of people breathing in a closed space. Before I was able to slip outside for some cold air to clear my head, I noticed Dr. Mhamed Benaboud, a local professor and one of the very few researchers who managed access to the Mazmorras, albeit for a

very brief visit. I wanted to discuss my problems with him about gaining access to the dungeons.

I was three months (out of eight) into my third trip to Morocco, funded by a Fulbright-Hays fellowship, and a long series of delays had prevented me from securing access to the site. I was nervous about running out of time. Dr. Benaboud mentioned several city leaders to contact, but he seemed pessimistic that there would be sufficient time to conduct an archaeological excavation. He continued, saying many had tried and failed to gain long-term access to the

Mazmorras. He also mentioned ceramic jars and possibly human bones in the Mazmorras that required attention. I had a plan to get in, and a large part of my talk that day was to make a persuasive case for this plan.

Looking over the program, I noted that the talks from previous days of the conference involved a revolving door of high-level directors of internationally-based heritage-related projects with massive budgets. UNESCO directors, representatives from large international organizations, and other managers gave presentations that seem to update high-level managers about large projects underway across the Mediterranean. My presentation on economical methods of digital preservation seemed a little out of place in the middle of such high budget projects, yet I remained hopeful that it was just the antidote needed to capture attention in the midst of so many authorized heritage discourses.

The high budget and international flair of this forum was also evident in the use of headphones providing instant translation in either French, Arabic, or Spanish. The fact that a considerable portion of Moroccans were not wearing the headphones was not surprising.

Moroccans in the North were frequently exposed to these three languages. Dr. Mehdi Zouak, the

Regional Director for the Ministry of Culture and Inspector of Historical Monuments, who gave me the opportunity to speak at this forum, was fluent in Arabic, French, and Spanish.

Unfortunately, I needed to give parts of my presentation in English, which was not one of the languages of choice at the forum. My talk emphasized many technical terms related to computer coding, all of which is in English. I accepted to present at the conference on short notice and I did not have time to find technical translations for many of the words while I was suffering a long bout of food poisoning. When I began to speak in English, the noise level of the room rose. Some people asked for silence and the crowd complied. I needed something powerful and visually compelling to win over the crowd. Imagery on a screen can be both hypnotic and visually communicative in a way that transcends language. I used a visual tour that I created of imagery I shot in Habs Kara, a purported prison for Christian slaves in Meknes, Morocco, to capture the attention of the now quieting audience. After I secured their attention through visual display that cut though language barriers, I was able to discuss how to create a virtual tour.

This was an international conference filled with Europeans as well as North Africans with significant exposure to European-influenced cultural stereotypes. My time with my family in Spain had taught me that Europeans routinely portray Americans as a people without an understanding of history. As I returned to my seat, this sentiment was confirmed.

As I settled back into the audience, the man next to me introduced himself as an Algerian who specialized in the medinas, and he asked several questions about my work history as an archaeologist. His initial concerns about my lack of experience with “history” were not alleviated with a discussion of my experience with Native American prehistoric sites. Native American prehistory was the wrong sort of history.

He then asked bluntly: “What experience do you have with historic sites? Why would we want an American to excavate the important site of I’s Mazmorras? Why not hire a European company with more experience with antiquity and heritage sites to excavate this site?” I followed

with my excavations on 16th-century Spanish colonial sites in St. Augustine, Florida, and my archaeological work in Puerto Rico. For him, this was the right sort of history. I also emphasized my institutional support from Fulbright-Hays and the Moroccan Ministry of Culture. He responded favorably to the institutional support backing my proposed research.

After establishing my credibility, he started asking questions about technical and economical solutions for heritage management. The Algerian scholar then described a site he was working on, his limited budget, and his interest to both reach the wider international public and preserve the site. He asked many questions and wrote detailed notes. He said he appreciated a simplified and cost-cutting approach that could still produce high-quality results. We then talked a little about the very large budgets mentioned in some of the corporate presentations, and how this amount of funding was unrealistic for cash-strapped projects.

What I discovered in this exchange were the positive attributes that could arise out of my

Americanness and archaeological experience, how they intersect with technology and how I could engage similar lines of interest in North Africa. If the United States was perceived as power with limited experience with antiquity, the inverse stereotype, that Americans had experience with technical modernity also appeared as a viable alternative. Considering the

American origin of many commonly used computer programs and technical devices, this perception seemed to provide reasonable avenue for collaboration.

My experience in this conference opened up a clearer path along the collaborative continuum. First, I would need to establish suitable bona fide of proficiency with antiquity through work experience and institutional support. Second, I would need to use computerized methods of visual heritage preservation as a catalyst to initiate the process of reciprocity. Third, I could offer my digital heritage expertise in ArcGIS, virtual tours, survey, and map-making to

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help meet local collaborator’s needs. Using digital heritage methods to unlock the process of reciprocity and collaboration, I could move this project to a more ethically sound and accurate project where goals would be developed openly and jointly.

Morocco and Time

After the conference, delays persisted, and I sought the council of my PhD adviser Peter

Schmidt and Dr. James Miller, the Fulbright coordinator in Morocco. They both suggested I reach out to other officials in Tétouan. Dr. Miller talked to several of the top archaeologists in the country about my situation and they came to the conclusion that Dr. Zouak and I should both have a meeting with the Caid, a local administrative authority representing the Ministry of the

Interior. Dr Miller explained the Caid could be understood as the “president of the city” and he had authority over the access to the Mazmorras that could be helpful.

I talked to Dr Zouak about the visiting the Caid. In response, he first attempted a phone call to the Caid and left a voice message. Then, he wrote two letters on official letterhead appealing for more clearances for my project. One letter was to the Caid of the Medina in

Tétouan, and the other was to the Wali, a royally appointed provincial governor. In these two letters, Dr. Zouak mentioned my research clearance from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the authorization from the Institute National des Sciences de’Archaeologie et du Patrimonie du

Royaume du Maroc (INSAP).

My plan for the Caid was to introduce myself and establish my experience and institutional backing. I brought a document packet with the two previous research clearances along with my CV, the letter d’attestation from MACECE, a letter of support from my

University, the Fulbright-Hays letter of certification from the US Department of Education, an authorization from the Ministère des affaires étrangères, and the authorization from the

Inspecteur régional des monuments historiques et sites de Tanger Tétouan from the Ministry of

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Culture. Dr. Zouak insisted the last authorization was the most important for my research. I spent several appointments waiting, packet in hand, for a meeting with the Caid that never occurred.

I voiced my concerns about time to Dr. Zouak, and he gently suggested that this is how

Morocco works, and time in Morocco is not the same as it is in Europe or the United States.

Taking Dr. Zouak’s suggestion to heart, my once expansive eight-month Fulbright started to feel very short. Dr. Zouak was trying to help me, but this process required time.

Limited Access to the Mazmorras

On March 26, 2013, I waited outside Bab el-Okla, one of the seven historical gates of the medina, for another appointment to enter the Mazmorras. Just like many times before, I sat on the steps with all the gear I needed to create a virtual tour. It was very early in the morning and crowds would not arrive for another hour. This morning, something was different. The people I waited for allowed me to enter the Mazmorras.

A group of men greeted me and we shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Among the people, there was a representative of the Caid, and one of Dr. Zouak’s assistants. We met inside

Dr. Zouaks office to discuss the plan to: 1) open the door; 2) have a guard posted outside the door, and 3) bring a powerful light, a ladder, and hard hats for everyone. Dr. Zouak supplied these materials unsolicited. He offered to carry some of my gear and we all proceeded through the gate of Bab el-Okla, walking single file through the winding and narrow pedestrian-only medina streets. Eventually, we reached and opened the iron door that sealed the Mazmorras

(Figures 6-1 and 6-2).

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Figure 6-1. Opening the door to the Mazmorras. Photo by the author.

After opening the heavy iron door, two assistants placed the tall aluminum ladder down the entrance. One man descended down with a bright halogen light. After both assistants determined the ladder was secure, I, Dr. Zouak, Dr. Zouak’s assistant Nordine and the representative of the Caid all descended into the dungeons. My first impression was that the layout fit Emanuel d’Aranda’s mid-17th century and Cesar Luis de Montalban y de Mazas’ 20th century descriptions accurately. I found the ceramic and bone deposit Dr. Benaboud described, and I could determine that the remains were faunal and not human. I was not able to determine the types of ceramics immediately, as all the pots were broken. There was nothing that needed to be immediately retrieved from the dungeons. Also, it appeared the Mazmorras had long since been looted, evidenced by the removed decorative ceramics over the altar mentioned by Diego

Galán Escobar in the late 16th century and from the report by Cesar Luis de Montalban y de

Mazas in the early 20th century.

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Figure 6-2. Entrance to the Mazmorras. Photo by the author.

I asked Dr. Zouak how long I would have access. He replied that we could in the dungeons until late afternoon and I could return for one or two more trips. I asked if I could have access alone. I was denied this because of how access for safety reasons. The door was left open near a busy part of the medina, leaving a dangerous hazard where someone could fall in.

Moreover, the heavy door could not be closed for my safety. I might not be able to open the door from the inside, leaving me trapped within.

Because of the limited access given to me, I moved forward with my plan to create a panorama based virtual tour. I hoped I could make a final product that would help advocate for the archaeological protection of this site. I felt nothing else I could do in this timeframe would work better for the protection of this site.

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Creating the Panorama Based Virtual Tour

Creating the panorama-based virtual tour required taking photographs over 360 degrees in a very challenging environment. The site was dark. Some frames would have areas both close and distant to the camera, complicating an evenly lit exposure. I planned and practiced in the dark in my apartment, so I felt prepared. However, I did not plan on the bright light they would bring.

The light the Moroccans brought down a large and bright light. It cast a yellow hue that would clash with the white balance in my exposures. The light would be uneven and create problems for my exposures. They were bringing this light for me as a favor, and I wanted to handle this delicately, but first, I would use it to do a walk through.

Looking over the interior space, I needed to photograph 6 panoramas for the virtual tour.

The rear screen on my camera was a helpful but insufficient indicator of the quality of an image.

To ensure quality, I would take more than double the images I would need to safely have the 25

– 30% overlap of individual images required for optimal panorama stitching. I increased the number of exposures in areas difficult to photograph.

I set up my tripod in centrally located spaces within each section of the Mazmorras. I leveled the tripod and mounted the panorama head. The panorama head was transported securely in a hard shell plastic case, with the head precalibrated to the entrance pupil of my D5100 and

10-24 mm Nikkor at 10 mm.I then mounted the camera and took some test exposures to measure requirements for ISO, aperture, and shutter speed with flash and supplemental lighting by hand.

Each exposure was checked. Sometimes I would have to reshoot two or three times to expose the image correctly. Sometimes I would have to move lights around, and “light paint” or illuminate areas for part of the exposure. Thirty second exposures give you a lot of time to illuminate dark areas. Thirty seconds also feels like a lot of time when you make an error.

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I approached the two men with the light and asked them to move away. They seemed really confused. I tried to explain how the light was not helping; it was hurting the images. They moved the light to the far corner of the dungeon; however, the light would reappear occasionally.

In some instances, I kept them in the shots if they were in a separate partition. Their presence helped provide a sense of scale at a distance. I had more than enough exposures to either include or not include them if necessary.

Dr. Zouak came over to talk to me. He made some small talk and jokes and then asked about the photography. I admit, it must have looked curious. I had strange, C-shaped panorama head on top of tripod. The camera flash was bounced. It would light up the room, and then I would light areas for 15 to 30 seconds with hand-held lights. I showed him the results on the screen. He appeared to approve. I was to exited to show him the final product. After taking the photos I needed for the panoramas, I photographed some other areas of interest and we all left the Mazmorras.

Returning to my apartment, I started the process of creating the virtual tours. In basic terms, in 2013, there were two general avenues TO take while creating a panoramic-based virtual tour. One avenue was to use expensive but user friendly software that would streamline the process of stitching photos, creating panoramas, and arranging them in a virtual tour. The other avenue was to use free software that was less forgiving with stitching difficult images and would require the use of light coding rather than a user friendly interface. The free option had the potential to create equally impressive virtual tours. Since I photographed the images accurately along the entrance pupil, I could stitch these images with free stitching programs. It was an obvious and expeditious choice which accelerated by construction of appealing mutuality and reciprocity—immediate needs gratified in response of access, thus setting into motion a chain of

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mutuality that would lead to a community archaeology of unusual diversity but common purpose at the local lever (Atalay 2012; Pikirayi and Schmidt 2016; Schmidt 2014b, 2016; Schmidt and

Pikirayi 2016)

I used two freeware image stitching programs to create the panoramas: Microsoft ICE and Hugin. Microsoft ICE was the easiest to use out of the two, and it was more sensitive to any parallax errors. Hugin was a much more powerful and complex program, and compensated for errors more than Microsoft ICE. I used Microsoft ICE for most of the panoramas, since my images were accurately shot using a calibrated panorama head.

I used PanoSalado 2, an open-source flash-based program, to display the panoramas online in a virtual tour. PanoSalado supports the display of a panorama in a deep cubic zoom format. In other words, the image is displayed online at a lower resolution, and will produce higher resolutions if the user chooses to zoom in on an area. This allows for the fast loading of a panorama and the support of the high resolutions possible with a stitched panorama—an ideal solution that was easy to learn and easy to explain to local collaborators—thus investing them with the power of technical solutions in an culture of avoidance or lack of familiarity.

Within the panoramas displayed by PanoSalado2, visual aids can be added to combine panoramas together. I used arrows as hotspots to give an easy visual cue for users to navigate freely. Also, I used as an interactive map the 1929 map from Cesar Luis de Montalban y de

Mazas to help orient the user by placing it in the lower right hand corner of the display. This allows us to comprehend quickly and to share with Moroccan colleagues and partners the precise location of each cultural feature, and show within their field of view an image that would change as they zoomed in and out.

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I hosted the virtual tour on University of Florida servers. Uploading one panorama to the servers took hours at a time, so I created and tested the operation of the online virtual tour offline on my computer. By the end of March 26, 2013, I completed the virtual tour, emailing the link out to friends and my committee on the very same day of my presentation.

Digital Heritage and Mutuality

On March 28th, I went to Dr Zouak’s office to discuss a visit to the abandoned Ben

Marzouk Riad (Traditional Moroccan house with an interior courtyard), just above part of the

Mazmorras. This Riad was purchased to serve as the ground-level public entrance to the

Mazmorras. Dr. Zouak sent Ms. Tounsi, Chef d'annexe d'inspection du monument historique de

Tétouan, to accompany me to the Ben Marzouk Riad.

I described my accessibility issues, and how I needed better access to the site for archaeological inquiries. Upon entering the Ben Marzouk Riad, Ijlal showed me the top of the well that could be used to access the Mazmorras. Iron bars blocked the passage and the structural stability was unknown; this route solved the problem of accessing the site from the street. Access to the entrance was easily controlled and managed from within the Riad. Access could be left open and, in case of a catastrophic collapse, I could would have egress with the iron door we used previously.

Ms. Tounsi replied to these ideas by suggesting that I contact Dr. Zouak to provide lights and that I have approximately 3 to 4 days maximum for all documentation. I needed about three weeks to perform pertinent research, hopefully designed together and implemented together.

Complex social and economic networks need to be nurtured and not rushed in their implementation. We were negotiating for time. I explained to her the details of archaeological fieldwork, and she agreed with the scope of the project taking longer, but she was unsure how I would gain sufficient access to realize my goals

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I had observed Ms. Tounsi working on a plan in her office to renovate another riad in

Tétouan for tourism. Discussing the topic with her, she appeared to be deeply passionate about restoring structures of historic and local heritage values. I showed her the virtual tour and explained the utility in both preserving sites and exposing them to the public She seemed very interested and wanted me to teach her how to perform this work. I discussed various methods from easy to difficult and explained that we could work on more complex tours whenever she liked.

Ms. Tounsi responded positively to our discussion. I could feel tension relax between us.

She leveled with me and said that Dr. Zouak was really busy and that she was busy as well. I was, again, uncompliant with time.

She concluded by saying that I would be helped, with lights and by bringing people together. Their needs were modest—a specific itinerary and work plan, with every day specifically accounted for. I told her I would be happy to comply as I already had a plan drawn up and could modify it to her specifications. Upon reflection, this conversation was central to building a balanced relationship that was advantageous for all parties as well as the heritage values.

The following day Dr. Zouak let me know he liked the virtual tour and he wanted me to help him solve a GIS problem for him. He handed me a CD with information related to the Ben

Marzouk Riad and the Mazmorras that he wanted turned into an ArcGIS map. He wanted the

Riad and Mazmorras oriented in relation to each other and positioned within the medina. Healso repeated Ijlal Tounsi’s request for a complete excavation work plan, giving the strong impression that my research and its benefits were being seriously contemplated

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This was exactly the sort of reciprocal relationship I sought to foster, a more collaborative relationship with Dr. Zouak. Additionally, I could use these data to develop detailed maps of the interior of the Mazmorras. With this spatial information, I could create a very specific work plan supported by supplemental maps. The mechanics of the inquiry were finally being incorporated into local thinking and needs, an auspicious indication of mutual needs being met.

The information within the CD was both helpful and problematic. The CD contained

AutoCAD .dwg files with points and vectors associated with the Ben Marzouk Riad and the

Mazmorras. I was able to convert the CAD files into ArcGIS shapefiles, but CAD files do not have projection information. Further complicating this issue was the absence of any relevant

ArcGIS information for the entire medina of Tétouan. In other words, projected and accurate data existed for the city of Tétouan, but the Medina consistently appeared as a large informational black hole inside of the city. Not having reliable and georeferenced data within the

Medina presented significant complications to completing this task.

I decided to georeference a satellite image of the medina inside of the ArcGIS informational void inside of Tétouan and then use that data to orient the Ben Marzouk Riad and

Mazmorras vectors. To assist in this, I took GPS points on the roof of the Ben Marzouk Riad that were identifiable from satellite imagery. I also took points at the only two places the Mazmorras were visible from the surface; the well, and the street entrance. To increase the accuracy of my

Garmin 62sc, I used WAAS error corrections and waypoint averaging. Unfortunately, it was difficult to get decent satellite coverage in the medina when I was not on a rooftop, so I was limited with this option. The roof of the Ben Marzouk Riad was also in terrible shape, making it impossible to cross. I used a tennis ball attached to string; I threw this over some of the exposed

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beams of the dilapidated roof to pull the GPS unit up to the roof in very precarious areas. I also took similar GPS points at landmarks on the periphery of the medina that were easily visible from the satellite imagery to help with georeferencing.

With this method, I could orient the vectors within perhaps 10 or 20 meters of its true position. This was not an ideal solution, but it was a start. I returned to Dr. Zouaks with some data to report back and see if I could ask others in the city for projection data.

Arriving at Dr. Zouak’s office as another meeting was concluding, I was introduced to an architect I had met in the previous month. His demeanor was distant and all business. After the meeting, he took me aside and started discussing the construction of the new entrance of the

Mazmorras. I asked him what he thought. He shrugged his shoulders and said there were a lot of politics. He also observed that attracting tourists also presents its own problems, one of which was soil level. Tourists would transport more soil and soon no one would be able to walk through the site because the ground level would be too high. He mentioned there was no plan for soil removal at the moment.

At this point, Dr. Zouak indicated that I should sit in his chair and pull up my virtual tour on his computer. The architect took a look and his demeanor changed from distant to interested and personable. He was interested to learn how to do this sort of work and I offered him full accessibility to any services or help he wanted. Afterwards, we talked at length about his continued feelings about the site, photography, and the role of digital heritage preservation.

While I was working on georeferencing the Riad, I took the vectors of the Mazmorra boundaries to create the detailed maps and to help organize and illustrate the excavation plan requested by Dr. Zouak and Ijlal Tounsi. I took the ungeoreferenced CAD vectors of the

Mazmorras and organized the interior with a one meter grid. Pin flags would mark each grid. The

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grid was organized so that one axis could be shot with a total station down the two arch ways of the three sections. From this axis, I would reposition the total station within the larger rooms to lay out most of the remaining pin flags.

Using these maps, I detailed specific steps for a complete surface collection and detailed excavation plans. Both historical information and restorative plans informed the location of proposed excavation units. I also created supplemental maps showing possible excavation units at two, three, and four meter intervals, and why these were rejected in favor of my plan \.

The CAD files contained hidden elevational data, presumably from the total station.

Using spatial analysis tools to interpolate this data, I created a DEM elevational model for the interior. This information appeared inaccurate, given what I had served from my one visit. Using the discrepancies, I argued that it was also a good idea to enter in the Mazmorras and refine my survey data, gathering information from many data points, thus confirming or modifying the mapping data we were using.

Dr. Zouak approved of my work proposal on April 9, 2013, pending some minor changes for archaeology terms in French. In response to my proposal, he offered me another day of access to the Mazmorras. I discussed my problems with GIS and georeferencing, and told him the way I was orienting the vectors would be inaccurate and insufficient for his needs. He then recommended that I contact a topographer who worked on the original project for more information. I contacted the topographer asking for information that would help orient the

Mazmorras. I described the need for a projection file to orient the vectors accurately on GIS. I received a response about the name of the projection, but I did not get the projection file with the necessary Easting Northing, meridian information. Thereafter, all my attempts at contact were

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not answered. It was beginning to appear that principles a reciprocity, open practiced with Dr.

Zouak, did not extend this far.

Yet, Dr Zouak informed me I would be allowed to access the Mazmorras once again. I reentered the Mazmorras with the intention of reshooting two problematic panoramas and investigating particular areas of concern from the 1929 survey. This time, I was with only one person, guarding the entrance. I did not require lights or a team. While I was photographing one of the panoramas, a man descended to introduce himself as Otman El Absi.a city official in charge of patrimony in the Medina. He wanted to know about me and what I was doing. He was surprised, very inquisitive about what I was doing as he went on to describe how he was never allowed inside the Mazmorras, despite his position! This felt like a critical moment in the project, a point of transition in which I was facing a final assessment about my suitability to undertake such sensitive work that even an official Moroccan could not tred the same ground.

Out of this impromptu meeting, came the understanding that the street entrance posed logistic problems and that a public entrance added the potential for attracting additional bureaucratic complications to this project. Concluding my photography, I examined the well entrance that Ijlal Tounsi once showed me from within the Mazmorras. In order for this entrance to become viable, I needed a very sturdy one-piece ladder that extended the full length of the well to above the surface.

A few days later, Dr Zouak told me I would be given more permanent access to the site through the Ben Marzouk Riad. Dr. Zouak took care to make the place safe and he organized the removal of hazards that might cause problems.

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He proposed to hire some workers to clear some of the soil, bricks, and stones covering the dilapidated roof just over the well, and to cut the bars blocking access inside the well. I would pay for a ladder to be fabricated and placed inside of the well.

The following week, Dr. Zouak asked me to create a virtual tour and GIS presentation for high school kids at the nearby Roman archaeological site of Tamuda. The students were visiting there on an educational fieldtrip. He wanted the students to excavate a mock archaeological unit in disturbed soil, while I would map their site and create a virtual tour of their area, and present it to them on the same day. This type of public engagement, commonly called public archaeology is the civic of community approaches and seemed a natural part of a holistic and inclusive community archaeology engaged in reciprocal contributions to the project at all levels.

I wanted to give Dr. Zouak the best presentation possible, and had less than 18 hours to prepare. Considering that I needed to create a panoramic virtual tour and ArcGIS maps simultaneously, I tried to preprepare so I could create the best possible products as quickly as possible. I created nearly completed geodatabases loaded with satellite imagery, various shapefiles, and georeferenced graphic overlays of the roman ruins at the site. This way, I would have the flexibility to create high-quality maps quickly while I was busy creating a virtual tour.

Since we arrived early to the site, I took several panoramas of two picturesque areas of the site and many of the steps, such as image stitching, needed for the virtual tour. While the students were excavating, I showed some how to operate my Garmin GPS, and I instructed them how to take waypoints of the four corners of the test units. Inside, Dr. Zouak gave a lecture to the students while I completed the virtual tour and several scalar maps showing the location of their test unit within the region, city, and archaeological site. After his lecture, I presented these maps to the students and concluded with the virtual tour. Dr Zouak seemed pleased. I was happy to

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have the opportunity to reciprocate all of his goodwill. We toured the lab and grounds, and he told me I would get access shortly.

As plans were moving forward to finish the alternative entrance through the well in the

Ben Marzouk Riad, the architect called for a meeting. He insisted on the creation of maps with the Ben Marzouk Riad and Mazmorras oriented within the Medina. I noted that critical projection information was still missing, introducing errors. Because the Riad was three stories tall, I would need to line up the first and third floors. Since the third floor blocked the exact location of the well, this introduced another error. The associated projection information would be a great help in resolving these complications.

The architect looked back at me and said it was crucial that I create the maps orienting the Mazmorras over the Riad and Medina in ArcGIS. I got the sense that my access to the site hung in the balance if I did not produce these maps. I mentioned that I was running out of time to perform the excavations to help clear the site for restorative purposes, and I spent months of my grant just trying to secure access. The architect laughed and said people had tried to get access to the Mazmorras for decades. Months was a short amount of time to wait. Again, I underestimated how time functioned in Morocco. I assured the Architect I would work on the problem right away and would get back to him shortly.

Shortly after my meeting with the architect, I gained permanent access to the Mazmorras.

It appeared that I had passed the vetting of a series of concerned officials, all of whom found advantages to the local heritage and the enhanced operation of their offices by partnering with this project. While I was performing the initial surveys for the excavations, I worked at mapping.

I was determined to complete this task with the best precision possible, so I asked for help. I asked for GIS help from Nirav Patel, a recent graduate of the Geography Department at the

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University of Florida. He provided help with orienting the vector images on the map, but we were still stuck with the problem of projection errors. I concluded all we needed was the immediate area of the Ben Marzouk Riad rather than its specific location within the city. This way, we could avoid the problems of georeferencing.

Orienting subterranean and above ground spaces presents particular difficulties. These spaces exist largely invisible to each other, so it is challenging to orient these two spaces. To line up these structures, I took the three best data points available to me: The well, the central street entrance of the Masmorras, and compass readings for both structures. Using the compass, I noticed a small detail: the North Arrow on the CAD files for the Ben Marzouk Riad was incorrect. I also confirmed the orientation of the central door by overlaying the first and third floors of the Riad. From the third floor, or roof, I could look down and confirm the precise location of the Mazmorras street entrance. Conveniently, the central part of the street entrance intersected a corner in the third floor of the building. The well also intersected an easily visible area on the third floor.

In Adobe Illustrator, I was able to rotate and orient these two vector groupings while retaining their precise dimensions. I lined up the cardinal directions of each structure, the well entrances, and the building and the Mazmorras street entrances. I walked back to the Mazmorras and Riad to confirm their alignment by compass and measuring tape. Then, I used this information using Adobe Illustrator to ensure the two structures were oriented accurately.

Afterwards, I made the maps using both the information from GIS and completed the exercise with Adobe Illustrator for maximum precision.

I presented my information to Dr. Zouak and the architect, armed with every supplemental map possible. The Architect saw the structures were not lined up correctly. I

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pointed out that north was incorrectly labeled from the CAD maps. He disagreed with this premise, and I demonstrated it using the satellite photos. He changed his mind and became very receptive to the rest of my maps. We walked to the Ben Marzouk Riad and I talked him through how everything was oriented in person, using the architectural clues and compass information.

The architect was very pleased with this information. Near the end of my excavations, The architect, Dr. Zouak, and the project manager in the Tétouan Area of the Spanish Agency for

International Development Cooperation (AECID) Roberto Carlos Somlo congratulated me on solving this problem.

Concluding Remarks

The two themes of collaboration and digital heritage that appeared in 2009 come together in this chapter through mutuality and reciprocity. At key junctures of Moroccan assessment, my qualification was punctuated by whether I could meet their needs in mapping technology and virtual representations. At each juncture, the production of results helped meet local needs to where the gates of reciprocity swung open. This chapter captures several dynamic moments where reciprocal actions precipitate reciprocal actions for the Mazmorras. The development of reciprocal actions provides a feeling of flowing mutuality. The development of these collaborative relationships created the conditions for the tacit support needed for permanent access to the Mazmorras of Tétouan.

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CHAPTER 7 A HISTORICAL EXAMINATION OF TÉTOUAN’S MAZMORRAS

Interrogating the historical record for material and cultural evidence for Christian slavery can assist archaeological excavation plans for Tétouan’s underground Mazmorras (dungeons).

Several direct primary sources describe the dimensions of the interior, sacred space, the material culture used inside the dungeons, and anthropogenic deposits. In this chapter, I review the primary sources that speak to the interior and materiality found within the dungeons. I use the historical record to help locate sacred space and understand interior change that has the potential to help inform archaeological plans. I seek out gaps and inconsistencies in the material evidence of Christian captivity in Tétouan’s Mazmorras to guide my historical and archaeological research.

One effective way to resolve the gaps and inconsistencies in the historical record of

Tétouan’s Mazmorras is through the use of historical analog for the above-ground prisons, or bagnos. The experience of Christian captivity and slavery was not static and changed over time.

Likewise, the interior spaces also changed over time. The words bagno and mazmorra both refer to structures that were used to imprison Christians in North Africa; the examination of both structures reveal an overall trend of interior change that support historical trends of change in the

Mazmorras.

Bagnos and Mazmorras

The terms bagno and mazmorra both describe places to hold Christian slaves, but they are different in their historical connections and location. Clissold (1977:53, 64) describes how the two terms bagno and mazmorra fall within geographic divisions, where mazmorras are located in Morocco and Al-Andalus, and bagnos are along the rest of the Maghreb. Clissold is mostly correct; the distinction between these terms are not simply divided along nationalist

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borders, as the distinction arises from cultural differences. While mazmorras are also found within the Iberian Peninsula (Rodríguez 2007), one is also found within Tunis (Davis 2003:97), a city that was one of “the principal destinations of Morisco exile” (Villanueva Zubizarreta

2014:357). In this regard, mazmorras are linked to the cultural exchange between Iberia and the

Maghreb; a defining characteristic for mazmorras is its subterranean location.

Exploring the etymological roots of the words bagno and mazmorra provides additional emphasis on the Iberio-Maghrebi cultural links. Bagnos refer to above ground structures used to hold Christian captives and slaves. The word bagnos is Italian for bath, and similar structures are called baño when referring to Spanish sources (Friedman 1983), or bagnes in French documents

(Weiss 2011). These words all refer to the English word bath. The origin for the term is obscure, but most etymologists agree that it arose from a former bathhouse used to hold captives in

Constantinople (Friedman 1983:179).

Unlike bagnos, mazmorras refer to underground spaces, and the Iberian word for dungeon was borne out of the cultural and linguistic exchange that occurred between Iberian and

Maghrebi space (see chapter 2). The Iberio-Maghrebi cultural exchange left linguistic and historical evidence for the dual usage of underground spaces as silos and dungeons. As described in Chapter 2, the term mazmorra in Castilian Spanish comes from an Arabic root that refers to a silo or a place to store things underground (Corriente 2008:371; Pellat 1991:842–843; Rodríguez

2007:42; Weiss 2011:21), and there are Medieval Iberian subterranean sites used as silos and dungeons to hold Christian captives (Rodríguez 2007:42–43, 53–54). As the frontier between

Christian and Islamic space moved south, the use of subterranean mazmorras to hold captives of the religious other moved southward with it, to places like Tétouan, Morocco.

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In North Africa, there are several primary accounts describing the use and conditions of mazmorras. Among the mazmorras, witnesses almost universally agree that the underground structures were “stinking hot, dreadful places” (Weiss 2011:21). Germain Moüette (1683:101) described the Mazmorras of Salé, Alcazar, and Tétouan as exceptionally filthy with exceptional tortures. Emanuel d’Aranda (1666:63) describes the unbearable heat in the Mazmorra of Ceuta.

Though these historical accounts of several Mazmorras assist our understanding of the overall nature of slavery and captivity in North Africa, the numbers of underground dungeons are less than the amount of Christians held in above ground bagnos (Davis 2009:194, 206; Weiss

2011:243–244).

Understanding the historical trends of bagnos in the early modern period can help contextualize the incomplete historical record of Tétouan’s Mazmorras. Using the historical literature on bagnos as an analog can help clarify the structural changes that occur in the

Mazmorras. Along with the direct mention of material culture from the primary sources, a more complete knowledge of structural change in the Mazmorras will better inform a cultural heritage management plan for the site.

Capacity, Mazmorras, and Bagnos

The primary sources for the Mazmorras provide incomplete and sometimes contradictory information on the description of the interior of the Mazmorras of Tétouan, and their change over time. Early descriptions of captive Christians in Tétouan provide high figures that seem incongruent with the current dimensions of the Mazmorras. Other descriptions provide different dimensions for interior space. Comparing this information for the Mazmorras to the analog of what we know for the general trends for bagnos can help resolve inconsistencies and fill gaps.

The earliest account of Christian slavery and captivity in Tétouan comes from Al-Hasan ibn Muhammad al-Wazzan al-Fasi, the diplomat, explorer, and al-Andalus exile more famously

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known as Leo Africanus. During part of his extensive travels across North Africa, he visited and wrote about Tétouan. In Tétouan, he saw 3,000 slaves wearing sack cloth and working all day on the city walls, and at night the slaves were chained in irons in subterranean pits

(Africanus1956:268). It is not clear if these pits represent the Mazmorras, however, the numbers provided by Africanus require further analysis as it would be impossible to fit 3,000 people in the present-day Mazmorras.

Africanus’ three thousand figure is too large to describe the earliest capacity of the

Mazmorras. From this account alone, it is unclear if these figures are exaggerated or accurate and reflect housing captives in many locations. Gozalbes Busto reviews the historical literature and though he suggests the early figures appear excessive, he finds arguments both in support and against the figures (Gozalbes Busto 1992:247–248). He suggests evidence for the earliest figures for slaves in Tétouan to be inconclusive, and he points to later sources that provide smaller figures and several accounts that suggest captives were also kept above ground or in other locations in Tétouan (Gozalbes Busto 1992:247–249).

Indeed, the secondary historical sources on bagnos provides additional support for the housing of slaves in multiple locations. In cities with bagnos, the imprisonment of Christian captives was not only limited to the communal prison. In fact, the above ground location of bagnos is easier to construct than a subterranean prison. Some of the more wealthy slave owners found it more economical to build their own private bagnos, than to pay use the state structures to house their numerous slaves (Davis 2009:194). These private structures were sometimes no more than a hastily converted structure, and far from more permanent and specialized state- controlled bagnos (Davis 2009:195).

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Structural Change and Bagnos

The development and complexity of bagnos in North Africa mirror the rise in piratical raids associated with Christian capture from the 16th to the 17th centuries. For instance, in

Algiers, there were no collective government prisons for captives or slaves before the first portion of the 16th century (Friedman 1983:59). The growth in slaves created societal pressures that Algiers solved with collective spaces used to house slaves. The first bagno started operation in 1531, and could hold upwards of 2,000 captives (Davis 2003:110).

By the second half of the 16th century, almost all captives, public and private, were housed in both public and private bagnos (Friedman 1983:59). Each bagno was under the supervision of a keeper known as a Guardian Pasha (Clissold 1977:57), otherwise known as

Guardian Baji (Friedman 1983:62) or Guardian Basha (Davis 2003:118). This group was composed of Turks, Moors (Clissold 1977:57), Janissaries (Friedman 1983:61), and sometimes of renegade Christians (Davis 2003:118).

As the bagnos grew, so did the complexity found within the structures. By at least 1700, each bagno had a Catholic chapel (Davis 2003:12). There was a rich religious life found within the bagnos, where holy days were celebrated and priests gave mass (Davis 2003; Friedman 1983;

Gozalbes Busto 1992; Weiss 2011). In fact, the social complication within the bagnos grew more complicated due to the parallel hierarchy of control that sprung up from Catholic efforts to establish a religious presence in each of the prisons (Davis 2003:119). The religious presence also brought medical treatment to the bagnos. Religious orders, such as the Trinitarians, were responsible for bringing hospitals to the bagnos (Davis 2003:23; Friedman 1980). Even with the medical attention, large numbers still died from the effects of disease and ill treatment (Davis

2003; Weiss 2011:88).

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Part of the trend of increased complexity within the bagnos and religious life was tied to the production of alcohol. Taverns existed within some of the bagnos, and they provided a unique source of alcohol to a region with religious proscriptions against its sale by Muslims. The proceeds from taverns often went to the maintenance of religious structures (Friedman 1983:85).

How taverns were tied into religious life is important context not to characterize these sites merely as sites for alcohol production. In fact, Davis (2003:98) warns against singling out taverns as a method to describe how their lives as well treated.

The conditions within the bagnos were described as harsh by nearly all sources. The bagnos are depicted as corrals, complete with the associated paraphernalia of imprisonment, such as chains and shackles. Occasionally, imprisoned Europeans fought among themselves. The

European conflicts at this time did not lead to harmony and peace, and the multinational contingents found within these bagnos often fought with each other (Davis 2003; Weiss 2011).

These divisions contributed to additional hardships. The poor conditions and the infighting between the Christians weakened their collective resolve for revolt, and “greatly amused the

Turks” (Davis 2003:113).

Overcrowding in the bagnos diminished with the overall decline in Christian slavery after the 17th century. For instance, in the Baño Grande del Rey in Algiers, there were fifteen hundred and three thousand captives in this bagno, but by the 18th century, it housed no more than one thousand (Friedman 1983:60). Unused bagnos were sometimes abandoned, and with the decline of rowed corsair galleys, the proportion of bagno to private slaves fell (Davis 2003:116). During

Barbary slavery’s period of precipitous decline (1690–1720), a large majority of slaves may have experienced the relative comfort of a master’s house over the poor conditions found within the bagnos (Davis 2003:116–117).

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In summary, the analog provided from the bagnos provides several trends to look out for when viewing primary sources on the Mazmorras. First, collective prisons should appear in the early 16th century. As the 16th century progresses, there should be a trend towards housing more of these slaves and captives in collective use prisons. The complexity found within the

Mazmorras should rise with the numerical arc of slaving and ransom into its peak in the 17th century. The rise of complexity should correspond with the use of formalized sacred space and a permanent religious presence within the dungeons. After the peak of slaving in the 17th century, the trend of capturing Christians goes through a long and slow decline. The decline of Christian slaving should correspond with the reduction in number of slaves, and should correlate with the constriction of interior space or abandonment of the site.

Structural Change and the Mazmorras

While Leo Africanus’ account does not provide interior details of the Mazmorras, it does support analogs provided by bagnos. Africanus’ account does refer to the use of collective-use prisons. In fact, the labor of slaves was used on massive public works projects to fortify the city

(Gozalbes Busto 1992:247).

A few decades after Leo Africanus’ account, Father Fernando de Contreras provides a

1540 account of the interior space as well as interior culture of the Mazmorras. Contreras’ mid-

16th century perspective serves as a baseline for the early interior depiction of the Mazmorras:

Three estados1 below ground (he says) have the mazmorras that are like silos with seguiles around, and on top a ceiling opening with a grid that provides light and ventilation. Of these silos or dungeons there are some that communicate by some narrow transits: it does not enter in them air nor Sun nor can be seen the Sky and hardly the light. The last of these dungeons also serve as a jail for delinquent Moors

1 The Diccionario de la lengua española defines an estado as “a conventional measurement equivalent to the height of an average man” (Real Academia Española 2014). More specifically, sources identify the length of an estado as 2 varas castellanas, or 1.6718 meters (Abad 1888:213; Garcia 2004:67).

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(good company to relieve their jobs). The filth is notable for the continuous attendance of so many men: the smell and bad odor is intolerable. One of the Redeemer Fathers certified to me that after spending a little time with the captives, he almost fainted. This is the room of those poor Christians, the seguiles are their rooms: the bed is a mat, they are naked, with chains, leg shackles and (iron) rings, and other cruel prisons, among them there are thick and long iron bars, called Alcandaras, they have their extremities fastened to two chains: in these they force them to put their feet one vara2 apart from each other. (Aranda 1692:480–481)

Father Contreras’ description is important for its interior detail and what is not present.

Linguistically, his description supports the link between silo and mazmorra. This linguistic connection affirms the Iberio-Maghrebi cultural exchange described in Chapter 2. With regards to a description of space and the interior, Contreras provides a measurement of depth and he points out a general spatial arrangement with a narrow, grid-covered opening providing light and ventilation. These spaces are joined, in Contreras’ depiction, by narrow transits large enough for communication. One of these spaces is reserved for Muslim prisoners. Contreras’ account also provides more evidence towards the use of restraints. An archaeological examination should find evidence to locate this grid and, perhaps, some remnants of iron supports in the soil or iron fasteners remaining in the walls.

What is absent in Contreras’ account and present in later accounts is mention of permanent sacred and liturgical space. While Contreras’ account describes religious practice, he does not describe the presence of an altar within the Mazmorras. Guillermo Gozalbes Busto finds

Contreras’ account insufficient by itself to ascertain whether there were permanent altars in the dungeons (Gozalbes Busto 1992:162). Later accounts do mention an altar in the Mazmorras.

Guillermo Gozalbes Busto reviews several historical accounts that point to religious ceremonies

2 A vara is an archaic and nonstandardized unit of measurement that differs throughout Spain. The length of one vara can vary from 768 mm to 912 mm (Garcia 2004:64–67; Real Academia Española 2014). While the exact place of origin for a vara is unknown, Garcia (2004:67) states that we can define a vara as 83.59 cm. Other sources confirm this general metric conversion for one vara (Barluenga Ramón-Laca and Estirado 2013:193; Barnes et al. 1981:68).

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and concludes that chapels and liturgical spaces were constructed within the Mazmorras by the second half of 16th century (Gozalbes Busto 1984:250, 1992:152).

Gozalbes Busto’s argument that limits the construction of a permanent altar and liturgical space in the Mazmorras to the second half of the 16th century follows trends seen in the bagnos.

Increasing populations with bagnos brought efforts by the church and the prisoners to establish and maintain a permanent religious presence. Similar to the bagnos, the slaves would help fund the maintenance of a religious presence in underground dungeons.

Historical records provide some supporting information suggesting an increase in the population of the Mazmorras in the late 16th and early 17th centuries. Table 2-1 shows the trend of increased captive redemptions Tétouan starting in the early 16th century and growing in frequency into the 17th century.

Seventeenth century depictions within the Mazmorras provide more detail for both the altars and the interior of the dungeons. As redemption expeditions increased from their frequency from the 16th to the 17th century, more personal accounts with increased detail were recorded.

Three accounts, all from the 1640s, provide clarification on the altar and the interior. Gozalbes

Busto also cites a source from 1648 that describes religious space in the Mazmorras in great detail.

An altar was constructed in the dungeon to say mass, with a large drawer to hold the ornaments and doors to close them. And a strong brick arch, to secure the mota (small and isolated elevations) in which it was made. And in the altar a niche was constructed with a painting of Our Lady of the Mercedes. And in the doors that were made, to close the niche, Our Father San Pedro Nolasco and San Ramón was painted on the inside. (Gozalbes Busto 1992:171)

The description of the altar both provides important details and raises questions. This reference points out structural changes by noting the creation of sacred space and the use of arches that are

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both used for religious function and for structural support. The description refers to motas which are decontextualized in space, but are significant and used to define the area.

Accounts from Father José Tamayo and Emanuel d’Aranda

An account from Father José Tamayo in 1640 provides information on the orientation of sacred space within the interior during the middle seventeenth century. Tamayo fell captive to pirates and spent four months of 1645 in Tétouan’s Mazmorras. His time in the Mazmorras contribute to a more detailed description of the interior of the site and description of religious structures inside the dungeons.

It is necessary to describe it in order to make sense of what is in the dungeon. It is a cave dug beneath the ground, which will be twenty pasos3 long, and three or four wide, with three estados and more in height. For its firmness it has two arches of rough stone, which divides it with equal distance in three concavities that the Christian call motas; they go down to [the caves] by a hand ladder, that at night they rise it up and has no use but during the day. These motas have no more light than the one that enters through a window that each mota has in the ceiling, which measures less than half meter in frame, with two thick bars of iron that crosses it, so that the human body can not fit into it. Through these windows, they throw to the captives what they need to eat, hanging from a hook and a rope. In the first and last mota are two poorly composed altars, where Mass is said without being forbidden by the Moors. The room has innumerable annoyances, because the ground is moist, it causes to breed in it frogs and snakes and all kinds of foul animals that annoy the human body, lice, fleas and bedbugs in great abundance, and insects in the manner of colored winged crickets, which are bred in the concavities of the walls, and when there is sweltering air, swarms of them come out and they get in their eyes, and especially at night do not let the poor captives sleep, tired of working all day.

In this place, as described, all the captives of Tétouan are locked up at night, except those whom their masters or bosses wish to have in their houses, or those who for being elders or handicapped they leave outside at their own risk or those who for being out of the dungeons and without chains they have as a guarantor, some Christian merchant of Ceuta, so they can guarantee that they will not escape, When I arrived there were almost 400 who were locked at night. Those who in such a short space could not stand standing, consider how they would lie down to sleep. (Galán 1913:18–19)

3 Both García (2004:67) in Medidas Antiguas Españolas and the Diccionario de la lengua española (Real Academia Española 2014) define a paso as equivalent to 1.393 meters.

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Tamayo’s account provides context for earlier accounts and the orientation of sacred space.

Father Contreras’ description of interior space capped by a skylight covered by a grid corroborates with Tamayo’s clarification of the term motas. Tamayo clarifies the construction of the grid in Contreras’ description as constructed with thick iron bars. Tamayo also describes other captives not kept in the dungeons, adding some weight to arguments that early and high estimates from Africanus do not mean the entirety of those captives were in the dungeons.

While Tamayo’s account provides a spatial arrangement for the interior of the site and additional context for religious space, another first-hand account from the same decade provides additional insights. Emmanuel d’Aranda was a Flemish born man taken by Barbary pirates off the coast of Brittany on August 22, 1640. As part of his captivity in North Africa, d’Aranda spent time imprisoned in Tétouan’s Mazmorras, and he provides a detailed first-hand account of the interior of the Mazmorras in his book, The History of Algiers and it’s Slavery: With Many

Remarkable Particularities of Africk:

This Masmora is a Vault thirty foot underground divided into three partitions. The greatest of the three is about twenty eight foot4 in length, and twenty four in breadth; the two others are less. And there were commonly detain'd there an hundred and seventy Christian Slaves. This prison hath no other light than that of three gates which are above in the mid'st of the Street, and at each of these grates there is a hook fasten'd to a Line; and when in the day time any Christians pass by, they charitably bring water to the poor Slaves; or if they have money, they buy somewhat for them; and the hook and line serve to let down what they would give them. The Jaylor or Keeper of this prison suffers not anybody to come in without giving him something. There is no Privy in it, but the prisoners and Slaves use pots as they do in Spain, and those pots are hung about the Walls, and so serve both for Tapistry and perfume. Besides they are not to be empty'd till night, and then an Officer opens one of the grates, and they are drawn up by the hook. And for every pot that is empty'd, there must be paid a Bobe, that is about half a farthing, which methinks is a great cruelty, and yet all those who are put into that miserable prison, are forc'd to lye on the ground, unless they are permitted to hang up Hammocks made of Cords against the Walls, as they do in Ships. But there are so many people, and the place is so streight, that the poor Slaves are forc'd to crow'd together, and

4 A French foot corresponds to 1.066 imperial feet or 32.48 cm (Huerta 2015:28).

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lye like so many Herrings. Thence it comes that in the Summer time especially, there is such abundance of Vermine, and so much other nastiness, that it is as troublesome being there as rowing in the Gallies. It was our fortune to be there in Winter. But what troubled us most was, that in the night time, when all were laid in their places, some lewd Boys, Moors, to vex the poor Christians, would cast in filth, stones, water, and other things through the grates. This happen'd some nights three or four times, and that alarm oblig'd all who lay neer the grates to rise; for all lying on the ground, he who rose not presently was in danger of being trampled under-foot by his companions, the floor being all cover'd with bodies. (d’Aranda 1666:59–60)

From d’Aranda’s and Tamayo’s accounts account, we can see the trends from the bagnos that refer to an increased religious presence, religious structures, the presence of a permanent jailor, and social complexity. Tamayo, d’Aranda, and the 1648 description of the altar all refer at some point to religious practice and space within the Mazmorras. While d’Aranda does not specifically refer to an altar, he does refer to religious services; his background as a Lutheran may have contributed to this omission. D’Aranda makes several disparaging remarks about the Catholic religion of the Spaniards and Portuguese, and hid his Lutheran identity from the Catholics out of fear (d’Aranda 1666:145).

d’Aranda refers to a religious service on the first Friday in lent, where a Dominican priest gave a service (d’Aranda 1666:123). Overall, D’Aranda speaks, in general terms, about how priests lived at the Bagnos and were maintained by alms (d’Aranda 1666:197). This maintenance of religious services by the captives reflects the analog provided by the bagnos, and demonstrates how the church was just simply not imposed. The slaves helped support the maintenance of this religious presence.

Tamayo, a priest, is more specific in how he refers to the location of altars within the

Mazmorras. Tamayo points out how the altars are located on both ends of the Mazmorras. He does not provide much detail, other than disparagingly describing them as poorly composed. The

1648 description of an altar isolates one specific altar with an arch and decorations. An

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archaeological strategy should look for clues to see if both an altar can be found on both ends and try to reconcile the 1648 description with what remains today

Contreras, Tamayo and d’Aranda provide information that can be tested to help verify their accounts. All three accounts provide measurements of interior space that can be checked during a survey. For example, Tamayo and d’Aranda are largely in agreement on their descriptions of general space. Both accounts describe the general division of the Mazmorras into three spaces capped by a small opening with an iron grate, method of egress and ingress, and interior conditions. These descriptions match other accounts of the interior of the Mazmorras

(Gozalbes Busto 1992:159). However, Contreras, Tamayo and d’Aranda are in disagreement in their measurement of height. On one hand, Contreras and Tamayo describe the height of the

Mazmorras as “three estados” (five meters) in height. On the other hand, d’Aranda describes the height of the dungeons as thirty foot underground. These and other portions of their interior descriptions can be measured, contextually, against the actual structure. A contextual view can provide important material evidence to the historical record and its description to a dark, irregularly-shaped, managed, and changing interior.

The Changing Interior

Since the Mazmorras are a subterranean site, two particular issues present complications for standard archaeological methodology. First, the need to reinforce the structure from the threat of collapse from the weight of the city above creates a requirement to manage the structural integrity of this underground space. Second, anthropomorphic deposition that might normally be left alone in surface sites poses a problem in the Mazmorras. You cannot have the ground surface rise too high, otherwise your prisoners might escape.

The floor is also an area under constant change. Both d’Aranda (1666:59–60) and K hn

(1741:172–173) describe issues related to the removal of anthropogenic deposits from the

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interior. Both d’Aranda and K hn specifically refer to pots used to remove waste. While broken pots on a crowded floor would present a sharp hazard and would probably be removed, an anthropological examination should pay attention to the presence of what mostly likely would be coarse or simple ceramics used to hold human waste.

The collection of historical accounts points to the transformation of the interior of the

Mazmorras over time. The 1648 account describes the construction of the altar and attention to fortify this structure to support weight. Gozalbes Busto (1992:159) surveys several sources and suggests brick structures were added to fortify structural weaknesses.

Following the trend of the bagnos, evidence shows the Mazmorras reduced in population with the decline of the capture of Christians and eventually abandoned. Gozalbes Busto also suggests the possibility that the interior of the Mazmorras was gradually constrained with the reduction in the captive population within the Mazmorras (Gozalbes Busto 1992:159). In the early part of the twentieth century, the Spaniards reentered the Mazmorras, only to find them abandoned and full of debris.

During the Spanish protectorate of Morocco (1912–1953), several Spaniards explored and reported on the then abandoned dungeons. Gozalbes Busto cites a 1922 report from Gomez

Moreno describing his impression on how the walls were whitewashed many times, giving the impression that the dungeons were inhabited regularly (1992:156). During Gozalbes Busto’s visits to Tétouan, he found verbal reports that the Mazmorras held slaves that were not European

Christian until the 19th century (1992:156).

César Luis de Montalbán y de Mazas

César Luis de Montalbán was commissioned by the Delegate General of the High

Commissioner of Spain in Morocco for cleaning and exploration of the dungeons. Montalbán’s work in the Mazmorras, in the early 1920s, provides important details, maps, and photos that

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corroborate Early Modern period accounts of the dungeons. Montalbán’s report also makes unfortunate omissions, leaving unanswered questions.

Montalbán’s 1929 publication is broken into five parts. In the first chapter, he provides a brief historical background. He argues for Christian and Visigothic continuity in Morocco and he describes the classification of the slaves (Montalbán 1921:9–10). He also describes his manner of entry via knotted rope from one of the iron grates in the street (Montalbán 1921:9). It is unfortunate that he does not measure height/depth of the dungeons, from the street to the floor.

In the second chapter, he provides a short, 656-word treatment on primary sources describing the dimensions of the Mazmorras, with an emphasis on the testimony of Father

Contreras. In this section, he postulates that the current Mazmorras are smaller than they were in the past (Montalbán 1921:11). Curiously, Montalbán does not add the excerpt by Contreras that mentions dimensions. He could have used these historical figures and compare them to modern dimensions to test his hypothesis that the dungeons shrank.

The third chapter provides information on the Catholic religious orders in Morocco. He begins his coverage of the Franciscans in the general area of 13th century Morocco. As he continued his description, he covers the Trinitarian and Franciscan orders and some of their history in Morocco. At the end of his short description, he describes some of the actions of the

Franciscans in the late 17th and 18th century in Tétouan.

Unfortunately, Montalbán does not describe the historical creation, description, or development of sacred space within the dungeons. This is important since his work focuses on the space and structures within this site. He provides professional drawings of a “high altar” and an entrance to the church within the Mazmorras (Figure 7-1). His explanation is sparse, and it is

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not clear how he discerns details in defining the religious functions within the Mazmorras in

Chapters four and five.

A B

Figure 7-1. Drawings of the interior of the Mazmorras. A) Altar of the Capilla de Nuestra Señora de los Dolores, as seen from the front door (Montalbán y Mazas 1929). B) Entrance to the Capilla de Nuestra Señora de los Dolores, as seen from the High Altar (Montalbán y Mazas 1929:16, 21).

In the fourth chapter, Montalbán describes the process of cleaning and surveying the dungeons. This section includes a map of the dungeons, executed by the architect of the Superior

Board of Monuments, Carlos Ovilo y Castelló (Figure 7-2). Using an annotation of Ovilo’s map,

Montalbán locates observations made within the Mazmorras.

The map provided by Carlos Ovilo y Castelló provides an imperfect reference for measurement. The map is simply presented with a 1:100 scale. The detail provided in the map suggests precision. It is unfortunate that the published map is missing this information. Without this information, it is not possible to confirm Tamayo’s or d’Aranda’s measurements. Despite

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this lack of accuracy in measurement, Montalbán’s report provides very important information for this sealed dungeon.

Figure 7-2. Map of the Tétouan’s Mazmorras (modified from Montalbán y Mazas 1929:31).

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Viewing the map and Montalbán’s comments, we can clarify some questions from the primary sources about the interior. First, the site is separated in three sections and capped by three small openings. Tamayo mentions two altars in the Mazmorras, with one at either end. The map in Montalbán’s report describes four altars located at 5, 9, 17, 41 but three are in the same end of the Mazmorras and one is in the middle mota. On the opposite mota are a collection of arches that should be examined for clues to see how they may corroborate Tamayo’s account.

The Mazmorras changed and this change is apparent in Montalbán’s report.

Montalbán’s report makes some mention of interior alterations and reinforcements of the site by the architect Carlos Ovilo. The arches corresponding with 37, 38, and 27 on the map were restored by the architect (Montalbán 1929:24). All of the area at number 14 was walled off, and this obstruction was removed to reveal three niches (Montalbán 1929:29).

Montalbán’s report describes decorative ceramics within the Mazmorras. His report refers to decorative green, black and white tiles that may come from the 15th or 16th century

(Montalbán 1929:29). The bottom of the niche at location 25 is decorated with tiles similar to the sacristy of the Patrono de Talavera de la Reina from the fifteenth and sixteenth century

(Montalbán 1929:28). His report also refers to several decorative ceramics of Islamic manufacture. One of these ceramics he judges to be from the 13th century, though that date seems early and requires substantiation.

Chapter 5 of Montalbán’s report is a list of descriptions from the annotated map. He overemphasizes religious identity in his history, and assigns a religious significance to many parts of the dungeon. It is unclear whether these claims are correct. Nearly all the annotations in

Montalbán’s list refer to some sort of religious function (see Table 7-1).

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Montalbán’s description could be accurate, but it would be difficult to portray this layout through time. Gozalbes Busto, primary sources, and the analog provided by bagnos show the gradual development of permanent religious structures within these prisons. Montalbán’s saturation of space with sacred function is difficult to reconcile with the 17th century accounts provided by Tamayo and d’Aranda. Generally, the primary sources describe a stifling environment, packed with humans. The walls are occupied. There is hardly space to lie down.

Montalbán does not reconcile this density of human suffering with his accordance of religious space thorough the dungeons.

There is good evidence for both permanent sacred space and for interior change.

Montalbán is able to corroborate some religious spaces with artifacts, such as the cruets

(vinajeras) located near the sacristy. However, the evidence that the space changed through time is also strong. Perhaps there was an increased focus on religious space as the slave population decreased. Montalbán’s evidence for all four altars is unclear.

From an archaeologist’s vantage point, there are some concerns regarding the artifacts in

Montalbán’s work on the Mazmorras. Montalbán describes how he cleaned the dungeons of escombros, or rubble and refuse. Unfortunately, there is no detail given on what was removed and discarded. Montalbán suggests a wooden door should exist between the sacristy (23) and the high altar (5) and he found wooden remnants decorated with green, black, and white tiles. He also found what may have been remnants of an altar table for the high altar (5). The locations of these and other artifacts are unclear. Gozalbes Busto provides a list of artifacts he found during his cleaning of the Mazmorras.

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Table 7-1. Annotation of the map of the Mazmorras (Montalbán y Mazas 1929:33–34).

No Description of map feature 1 Skylight entrance to the dungeons 2 Half-point arch that gives way to the entrance to the church 3 Bow that constitutes one of the arms of the Latin cross that fires the church 4 Half-point arch that communicates with the sacristy 5 Altar of the church 6 Drill on the wall to be used as a confessional 7 Half-point arch giving way to a chapel 8 Arch that was covered and that hid an altar 9 Altar with the brick table and a sepulcher under the table 10 Niche for a statue 11 Niche for the cruets (vinajeras) 12 Double-walled arch that communicates with the chapel of Our Lady of Sorrows 14 Chapel of Our Lady of Sorrows 15 It does not exist - carelessness in the numbering 16 Niche for Holy Oil 17 Altar of Our Lady of Sorrows which [Montalbán] found covered with a 180-cm thick wall 18 Alcove to the well 19 A well from which the captives came, whose brocal gave out of the dungeons 20 Arch that constitutes another arm of the Latin cross of the church 21 Idem 22 Communication that I found closed, serving as passage between Feature 27 and the church 23 Aguamanil (ewer) of the sacristy. 24 Sacristy 25 Niche decorated with tiles of the 15th or 16th century 26 Communication that I found closed, serving as passage between Feature 22 and the church 27 Feature that has no signs of worship and which communicates with the church 28 Skylight that is preserved in the dungeons 29 A half-point arch whose key is broken and rests on the foot of a friend marked with no. 30 30 Friend's foot holding bow pointed to with no. 29 31 Round arches 32 Round arches 33 It does not exist - carelessness in the numbering 34 Feature by whose side the dungeons end 35 Idem 36 Skylight of the dungeons whose railing I found torn 37 Covered arch that hid a chapel. 38 Idem 39 Chapel with four niches for the worship of images 40 Chapel with a niche that should have served as credence 41 Altar

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According to Montalbán, all of the artifacts listed in Table 7-2 were given to the museum in Tétouan and were displayed to the public. Montalbán even describes their arrangement in their public display with the following description: “In the patio of the present Museum there is a small section on the wall with two showcases dedicated exclusively for the artifacts from

Tétouan’s Mazmorras” (Montalbán 1929:33). This list has catalog number, suggesting curation.

My inquiries to the location of these artifacts were met with a disheartening answer: They are now lost and cannot be located.

Table 7-2. Cataloged artifacts retrieved by Montalbán and displayed in Tétouan’s archaeological museum in the late 1920s (Montalbán y Mazas 1929:35–36).

Catalog numbers Artifact description 1.022, 1.024, 1.037, Mosaics that decorated the niches of the church and 1.038 1.027 – 1.033 Ceramic cruets (vinajeras). Two of them decorated in green 1.058 Iron pick 1.046 – 1.048 Green-glazed lamps of Islamic manufacture 1.029 Piece of white marble, burnished on both sides, that could be the rest of a stone altar No Number 19 clay pipes for smoking tobacco, some of Italian manufacture No Number A sickle and a cannonball that has a ring to hold a chain 1.016 Green-glazed Arabic dish fragments with Arabic reliefs 1.052 Stone mortar for domestic use 1.095, 1.110, and Remains of an green-glazed Arabic amphora vessel, decorated in reliefs 1.110 and probably of the 13th century 1.049, 1.050, 1.051, Ordinary or common clay bowl 1.053 and 1.054 1.101 Curved steel instrument used to cut wood 1.133 Remains of an Arabic dish with a remarkable maker's mark No Number 90 Arab copper coins, unclassified

The disappearance of the artifacts Montalbán retrieved from the Mazmorras complicates past and present archaeological analyses. Without the artifacts, it is not possible to confirm some of Montalbán’s assertions, particularly his claim that some artifacts originate from the thirteenth century. This requires verification. His artifacts could have provided helpful information for

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future archaeological work into the Mazmorras or other excavations of sites related to Christian slavery.

While historical evidence shows the modification and change of the interior and surface of the Mazmorras, the site has been relatively protected from disturbances. Entry to the

Mazmorras was prohibited long after the end of the Spanish protectorate period. Gozalbes

Busto’s work suggests dungeons remained sealed by the time of his publication in 1992. He tried and was unable to get access to the Mazmorras despite working on the site for years (Gozalbes

Busto 1992:163). Because of this protection, Busto thought the site had value for an archaeological study (Gozalbes Busto 1992:164).

Unanswered Questions

A survey and excavation of Tétouan’s Mazmorras may resolve questions that arise from the literature, identify areas of significance, and excavate and perform a full recovery in areas where potential ground disturbance cannot be avoided. Several questions arise from the literature regarding the internal dimensions of the Mazmorras. Before excavations, a full survey is required. These data will provide information to either corroborate or disprove accounts in primary sources.

The protection of sacred space within the Mazmorras is a high priority for archaeological excavation plans. Looking over the combinations of primary sources and accounts from

Montalba, the high altar (5) appears to be a clear area of sacred space. Due to the potential for impact during restorative activities in the Mazmorras, a full excavation of this area is warranted.

The information given by Montalbán regarding artifacts adds to the importance of this area.

Likewise, Montalbán’s discussion of the Capilla de Nuestra Señora de los Dolores at location 14 suggests an area of significance requiring an excavation unit. Montalbán’s suggestion that 41 represents an additional area of sacred space compels the addition of exploratory excavation in

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this area. Father José Tamayo’s account saying the first and last mota contained two poorly composed altars suggests archaeological investigation around the area in front of 33.

Attention should be given to clues for structural change and areas developed over time.

One particular area of concern is the well (19) in Montalbán’s survey. None of the primary accounts mention a well. Rather, they put emphasis on the small amount of light and ventilation.

The well would provide both. In prison, a source of water would be very notable. Strangely, the discussion of this space is omitted from the primary sources. During the excavation of location

14, attention to this discrepancy should be noted.

Both Montalbán and the primary accounts provide information on artifacts. One persistent artifact would be the iron tools of imprisonment. Another artifact that may have survived the centuries of use, Montalbán’s cleaning, and looting are the remains of iron fasteners in the walls. Iron fasteners mounted in the walls could have been used for the hammocks and pots in d’Aranda’s account or to fasten the wood mentioned in the 1648 description of an altar.

Another area of change to investigate is the deposition of material from the surface.

Montalbán’s description discusses the removal of rubble. Primary accounts and Montalbán’s publication both suggest reinforcements of the structure to repair structural weaknesses. These areas should be identified and the processes of deposition of material from the surface should be investigated and recorded.

The Mazmorras were not a static monument given what is known of their use over time.

What remains today bears the marks of change from centuries of use as a prison, to the impact of

Montalbán’s cleaning, and perhaps potential looting. The goal of heritage preservation in some ways is to mitigate further impact to a site that has endured change and alteration through its use as a prison.

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The amalgam of accounts in primary sources to the Mazmorras, historical analogs from bagnos, and 20th century surveys can help us to understand the development of the Mazmorras.

From this information, we understand that sacred space developed in these prisons years after their initial use. Through a combined historical and archaeological study, we can help reconstruct an image of this space and the slaves who lived within them.

This research holds great significance for introducing a new source of information into dialogues on Christian bondage in North Africa. The material record and local narratives can often speak more poignantly, together, than archival research alone. Tétouan’s Mazmorras is an important site for understanding Christian Slavery because it retains archaeological context for important and vanishing dimension of slavery in the Mediterranean. The historical literature leaves questions that can help inform archaeological investigations and plans for heritage management. Thus, both history and archaeology come together in an exciting way, with archaeology adding critical information that may be missing from the historical record while simultaneously providing new perspectives on the lives of those who history has forgotten.

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CHAPTER 8 ARCHAEOLOGICAL EXCAVATIONS OF TÉTOUAN’S MAZMORRAS

The preservation of threatened urban archaeological sites introduces problems of urgency that may clash with archaeological concerns. The establishment of heritage protection brings two competing interests into consideration. On one hand, economic pressures can favor a market approach. Those supporting this approach argue that preserving sites for tourism creates a local revenue source, but this may happen at the detriment of historical concerns (Fyall and Garrod

1998; Johns and Hoseason 2001; Johnson and Thomas 1995; Li 2003). On the other hand, archaeologists may favor time-intensive and expensive archaeological excavations. While rescue archaeological projects in North Africa are rare, concerns for heritage preservation, archaeological research, and heritage tourism in Morocco are growing (Fenwick 2012:514). I argue that the interests of both parties can be reconciled in Morocco by adopting a holistic method that combines collaborative work, digital methods of heritage preservation, historical research, and archaeology.

This is the approach that I adopted for the rescue excavations of Tétouan’s Mazmorras.

My excavation project complemented existing Moroccan restoration plans—which did not include archaeological heritage management—by providing methods to digitally preserve the site and an archaeological plan informed by historical sources to document the Mazmorras (see

Chapter 7). The goals of my excavations were to: 1) resolve questions that arose from the historical record, in particular to authenticate the Mazmorras as a prison for Christian captives;

2) digitally preserve the appearance of the site preceding any restorative activities; 3) determine the vertical limits of the site; 4) assess the presence of subsurface site formation processes; and

5) locate areas of archaeological significance, in order toprotect them from the impact of restorative activities.

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Upon gaining access to Tétouan’s Mazmorras, I promptly discovered that the site had several urgent structural issues. A slow leak from a grey water pipe installed over the center of the Mazmorras was eroding the limestone structure, causing a large piece of the ceiling to collapse. The destabilization of the Mazmorras was also observed in large cracks on the walls of the building above the dungeon. Delaying the restoration of the site threatened not only patrimony, but also lives and properties. Therefore, these immediate and life-threatening structural concerns forced me to limit the scope of this study to a rescue (or salvage) excavation.

Economic concerns were central to the archaeological excavation. Because my research in Morocco was funded by a Fulbright Hays DDRA grant, the excavations were provided at no cost to the Moroccan government. I worked without lighting and paid for the custom-built ladder that I used to access to dungeons. I led the archaeology team, with assistance from my parents, who volunteered as laboratory assistants and note-takers. Inevitably, some costs were incurred by the Moroccan government, but Dr. Mehdi Zouak, the local delegate to the Ministry of Culture, was always generous in his assistance. His guidance, support, and connections were instrumental to the success of this project (for more details on the relationship with Dr. Zouak, see Chapter 6).

Safety Precautions

Due to the dangerous conditions inside the Mazmorras, personal protective equipment

(PPE) was worn during the duration of the excavations. All surveys and excavations were conducted in pitch-black conditions. For lighting, I used a Black Diamond headlamp and a

Minimag flashlight. I wore a hard hat because of the threat posed by the unstable ceiling, the pitch-black conditions, and the low overhead clearance. Due to the low-quality of interior atmosphere conditions, 3M disposable respirators were worn during most of the survey and the entire excavation. I also wore heavy-duty 9-inch Red Wings logger boots with a Vibram sole.

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Evidence of structural weakness prompted the use of additional procedures to ensure safety and rescue in case of catastrophe. First, I enacted a check-in and check-out procedure for every entry into the Mazmorras by contacting a trusted individual who resided in Tétouan. The procedure stated that if I would not contact this individual by the prearranged check-out time, he? she? would call authorities to alert them to the possibility of my being trapped inside the

Mazmorras. Second, I always brought a fully-charged cell phone despite the fact that it had very limited reception underground. Third, I always wore a Riggers belt with parachute-grade buckles and adapters that met PIA-H-7195 standards. In case of an emergency, the belt could be connected to a line to pull me out of the dungeons.

Digital Preservation of the Mazmorras

Before any archaeological and restorative activities could take place in the Mazmorras, I digitally preserved the interior using two methods: a panorama-based virtual tour and a Kinect- based method to record the interior as a RGB dense point-cloud. To create the panorama-based virtual tour, full 360-degrees panoramas were photographed throughout the interior of the dungeons. I used a Nikon D5100, a Nikon 10-24mm lens, an external flash, and supplemental lights to photograph the dungeons. Each image was taken at 10mm. ISO for each exposure was limited to 1200 to control for noise. Shutter speeds varied between 10 seconds and 30 seconds. A heavy tripod and a remote trigger helped ensure vibration-free exposures.

I used a panoramic head to ensure precision of image capture. A properly adjusted panoramic head allows the camera to rotate around the entrance pupil of the lens. Overlapped areas of photos taken with this device align precisely with each other. Without this precaution, the photos will change in position relative to each other, otherwise known as parallax error. In tight interior spaces, problems of parallax error in the creation of panorama magnify. Centering a

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camera perfectly on the entrance pupil allowed me to overcome these technical concerns and create an accurate floor to ceiling immersive panoramas.

Images for the panoramas were combined using computer software to create ultra-high resolution panoramas of each room of the Mazmorras. These panoramas were then linked together to recreate the Mazmorras in their entirety. This panorama was made available online at www.pailos.com. The immersive environment allows viewers to “walk through” the Mazmorras.

Users can zoom in and out of areas of interest and their position in space is noted on an interactive map (recreated from Montalbán 1929), on the lower right hand side. I chose to use

Montalbán’s 1929 map because it is used by academics and the public for the Mazmorras.

I used an additional Kinect-based method to digitally record the interior of the

Mazmorras. Whelan and colleagues (2012) present a method to record interior space using a

Microsoft Kinect and a laptop to create a dense three-dimensional fully-colored digital model.

Information from this three dimensional model can be used for virtual reality applications. I found this method to be less accurate and less detailed the panorama-based virtual tour. Whelan suggested to me via email that despite some errors, this information could be refined and used for the creation of virtual tours in the future. As a result, I used the panorama-based images for the construction of the current virtual tour, while retaining the Kinect-based information for possible future use.

All ceramic artifacts recovered during excavations were photographed. I used a 40mm

2.8 Nikon Macro lens on a Nikon D5100 mounted on a Manfrotto articulating arm. Unlike many zoom lenses, this specialized Nikon macro lens is virtually distortion-free. The lens also resolves sharply on the sensor and controls vignetting very well. The photo number for each ceramic artifact is recorded in Appendix D.

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Surface Survey

The first step of my archaeological excavation plan was to conduct a surface collection survey of the Mazmorras. I divided the interior space into a one-meter grid using a Topcon 211-

D total station. Each one-meter grid was delimited by pin flags and was marked with a label.

Because of the difficulty of orienting oneself inside a pitch-black subterranean space, I selected an arbitrary north for mapping. This arbitrary north was oriented down the long axis, toward the what Montalbán describes as the high altar1. The “high altar” was an obvious choice because its prominent location ensures that I would maintain orientation in space and that my measurements would be accurate. For clarity, all cardinal directions that follow this arbitrary Cartesian orientation are preceded by an “A” in this study (e.g., Arbitrary East is abbreviated as A-East or

A-E).

With the data collected from the total station, I created a perimeter and topographic map of the interior of the dungeons. Artifacts found within each one-meter square were hand- collected and their location recorded. Ceramics were analyzed by the author. Recorded data include count, length, width, thickness, weight, surface color, temper type, and surface treatment

(Appendix D). Faunal remains were recovered (Appendix D) and curated for later analysis.

Bricks, because of their intrusive nature, were counted and weighed (Table Bricks X) but later discarded. During lab analysis, attempts were made to refit ceramic sherds collected during the surface survey. Ten partial vessels were reconstructed. Those are referred to as “Pots” (Pot 1, Pot

2, Pot 4, Pot 11, Pot 12, Pot 16, Pot 17, Pot 18, Pot 19, and Pot 20; see Vessel Analysis section below).

1 In this chapter, I use the term “high altar” for clarity. However, the use of this space as a high altar is inconclusive from Montalbán’s study. A discussion of my research on the function of this space can be found in this chapter.

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The location of the Mazmorras underneath a city creates conditions for the intrusion of surface material. The historical record mentions the presence of three grated apertures in the ceiling; if not sealed, these would have constituted an important point of access for intrusive material. Tamayo’s description of divisions within the Mazmorras as motas, or small isolated elevations (cited in Galán 1913:18), suggests the introduction of surface material under the holes in the ceiling dating to at least the early 20th century. Deposition of material through the grates is recorded even earlier, in the 17th century; d’Aranda (1666:59–60) mentions that people “would cast in filth, stones, water, and other things through the grates.” Johann Michael K hn’s account of his time in the Mazmorras in 1726 reaffirms that young people would throw items through the grates into the Mazmorras (1741:173).

In affirming historical accounts, I decided to look for evidence of Tamayo’s motas in the three main partitions of the Mazmorras (i.e., those located underneath the grates and labeled 1,

28, and 36 on Montalbán’s map, Figure 7-2). I quickly identified a rise in elevation in the northern partition (near 36 on Montalbán’s map), which was created by modern debris. The central partition (1) did not appear to have a rise, but this was difficult to evaluate because a large boulder from ceiling collapse obscured the area. The southern partition (28) had evidence for both surface material intruding from a structural failure and a depression. It was unsafe to remove all the soil littered with modern debris to locate and confirm the exact point of structural failure. I posit that this area was formed by a large deposit of dirt and modern debris that resembles a slow cave-in.

In the zone near the “high altar,” I located a second accumulation of intrusive surface material. I recovered there more than 300 modern-era zellij tiles (weight = 4.64 kg). These tiles matched the zellij tiles found in the Ben Marzouk riad that covers a portion of the Mazmorras

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(Figures 8-1 and 8-2). However, the “high altar” is not located directly underneath the riad.

Therefore, it is unclear how these materials were deposited within the Mazmorras. Dr. Nadia

Erzini, a local scholar, suggests that the Zellij tiles date to the 19th century2. I suspect that they fell inside the Mazmorras from the street opening. Perhaps Montalbán did not retrieve them during his cleaning of the Mazmorras in the 1920s.

Figure 8-1. Superposition of the Ben Marzouk Riad over Tétouan’s Mazmorras. Map by the author.

2 Nadia Erzini, personal communication, 2013.

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Excavation Units

Following the surface survey, I proceeded to conduct excavations in selected areas of the

Mazmorras. Two types of excavations were used: test units and larger excavation units (Figure

8-3). The test units measured 50 x 50 cm. Excavation units were larger, 1 m in length by 2 m in width. Levels were excavated in arbitrary levels of 10 cm. Unless a culturally significant feature was encountered or if it was not physically possible to excavate further, all excavations were taken down to limestone. All test and excavation units were documented using top plan and profile photographs and/or drawings. During excavation, soil color was recorded using the

Munsell Soil Color Chart. To ensure standardized recording of soil color, I always used the same light during visual examination of soils; differing white balance can result from using different lighting styles.

Figure 8-2. Modern-era Zellij tiles found in the Ben Marzouk Riad, above the Mazmorras. Photo by the author.

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All excavated sediments were screened through 6.35mm (1/4 inch) hardware cloth. Any materials suitable for radiocarbon dating were carefully recovered, wrapped in sterile aluminum, and stored in sterile bags for laboratory analysis. All artifacts were stored in 4-mil Uline polyethylene bags. All recovered ceramics were counted, measured, weighed, and described according to surface treatment type, surface treatment color, and temper (Appendix D). Ceramics were labeled on white-out with a black felt pen and the label was sealed with clear nail polish.

Figure 8-3. Location of Test Units and Excavation Units within the Mazmorras. Map by the author.

All ceramic fragments were examined in an attempt to reconstruct vessels. In this study,

20 vessels were partially reconstructed and four of these were sufficiently complete to draw a

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profile. In this study, all partially reconstructed vessels are referred to as “Pot” (see Vessel

Analysis section below). Additionally, I used photogrammetric methods to record the tobacco pipes and four reconstructed vessels. For this, I used a tripod, turn table, and D5100 with a

40mm 2.8 macro lens to capture a 360 degrees view of these artifacts. With these images, it is possible to create accurate 3D models of artifacts (Highton 2010:201–208; Porter et al. 2016).

While zooarchaeological analysis is outside the scope of this study, all faunal remains were collected, recorded, weighed, stored in polyethylene bags, and placed in curation. All bagged material was placed in archival-quality plastic storage containers. The archaeological remains were handed over to Dr. Zouak for curation. All artifacts remained in Morocco where they are the property of the Moroccan government.

Labeled artifacts were given a three-part alphanumeric designation (e.g., M13.39.03).

The first three characters on every label are “M13,” which represents Matamars 2013, the year of the excavations in the Mazmorras. However, note that in Appendix D, M13 is not added to the artifact number. The second group of characters consists of numbers referring to a specific location in the Mazmorras. This location can either be a grid of the surface collection survey or a specific level in one of the test or excavation units. The third group of characters refers to numbers to the right of the decimal point. These numbers represent an individual artifact.

Material recovered for radiocarbon dating was processed by Beta Analytic using the

INTCAL13 database. The radiocarbon dates were calibrated with BetaCal 3.14 using the high probability density (HPD) range method. When the traditional intercept method of date calibration is used, all date ranges obtained from the calibration are considered to be equally likely. Conversely, the new high probability density (HPD) range method statistically determines

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the probability of one range of calibrated dates being more likely than another (Ramsey 2009;

Reimer et al. 2013).

Test Unit 1

The location of Test Unit (TU) 1 was selected to both examine subsurface site formation in a known area of surface soil intrusion and look for evidence of sacred space. Tamayo Velarde describes two “poorly composed altars” located in “the first and last” motas (Galán 1913:18).

While Montalbán’s survey does not refer to an altar in the western mota, this area was selected because of the possible presence of an altar at Feature 33. Unfortunately, the area near Feature 33 could not be excavated because of compromised structural integrity in the zone encompassing

Features 21, 30, 32, 33, and 45. This section of the dungeons is covered in fill and modern rubbish, including fluorescent plastics and other items clearly more modern than what existed during Montalbán’s cleaning. It seemed unsafe to remove soil from an area that did not appear structurally sound. Instead, TU 1 was placed just A-east of the collapsed area, near Feature 29.

The datum was located on the A-NW corner of the unit, at 96.5 A-North and 99.5 A-East.

Level 1. The first level of TU 1 consists of the first ten centimeters from the datum. This dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2) soil contained modern plastics and discarded modern materials as well as 14 brick fragments and two modern ceramic fragments that were discarded.

Level 2. The second level of TU 1 corresponds to the sediments 10 cm to 20 cm below datum (BD). It was dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2) in color. The soil from this level contained a many modern plastics and discarded materials. Twenty-two brick fragments weighing 0.15 kg and 22 modern ceramics weighing 0.3kg were discarded. One sand-tempered ceramic rim sherd was collected and curated.

Level 3. The third level, a dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2) color, forms the stratum from

20 cm to 30 cm below datum. I recovered 49 brick fragments and 11 modern ceramics, which

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were discarded after excavation. Six ceramic fragments were retrieved from this level, for a total weight of 762.3 grams. Another fragment from this level forms part of Pot 19, a partially reconstructed vessel. Most of the other fragments of Pot 19 were found on the ground surface, at the opposite end of the Mazmorras, near TU 6.

Level 4. The fourth level is located between 30 cm and 40 cm below datum and is a dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2) color. There was a drop in the amount of modern plastics in Level 4, indicating decreased archaeological disturbance. Thirty-six ceramics were collected from this level, for a total weight of 466.97 g. Three ceramics conjoined and were labeled as Pot 13; these three ceramics did not match with any other sherds recovered from the Mazmorras. Twenty-four bricks were collected and discarded. Three faunal fragments were collected.

Level 5. The fifth level (40–50 cm below datum) revealed culturally sterile areas and a clear change in soil color. The soil was mottled with both dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2) and very pale brown (10YR 8/2). The ratio of 10YR 8/2 increased as the level approached 50 cm.

The layer of 10YR 8/2 appeared to be plaster. By 46 cm, the sediment was entirely 10YR 8/2. In fact, a sterile limestone floor nearly covered the entire unit when reaching a depth of 50 cm, with the exception of the A-NW corner. Nine ceramics and three faunal specimens were recovered in this level. This level also revealed the first charred materials at a depth of 47 cm. The level was taken down to 50 cm, cleaned, and a plan view was sketched (Figure 8-4). Visible on the plan are a limestone channel or groove, a small depression, and charcoal deposits.

Level 6. The sixth level was taken to a depth of 53 cm because very pale brown (10YR

8/2) sterile limestone was reached within 2 to 3 cm of excavation. No ceramics or faunal materials were recovered. However, a radiocarbon sample, located within a pocket of limestone,

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was removed from the A-northern portion of the unit. To limit contamination, I wrapped my trowel in aluminum foil and used this tool to remove a sample of charred wood.

Summary of Test Unit 1. The excavation of Test Unit 1 provided information on modern surface soil contamination and movement of artifacts inside the Mazmorras. This test unit is clearly located near an ingress point of natural and artifactual material from the surface, as indicated by the presence of abundant modern plastic and ceramic material in the upper levels of the unit. This test unit also revealed that some materials moved considerably inside the dungeons, either by human or natural means. A ceramic fragment recovered in Level 3 of TU 1 refits with one of the broken vessels found in TU 6, on the opposite side of the Mazmorras, near

Feature 24.

Figure 8-4. Top plan of Test Unit 1, facing A-North. Datum is located on the top left corner. Plan by the author.

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Stratigraphic integrity appears to have been preserved when Level 5 is reached; a plaster floor was discovered in this level. One radiocarbon sample was collected from the sediments found below the area of disturbance. This sample provides evidence for human presence in the

Mazmorras during the Early Modern period (Table 8-1). The high probability density range method suggests that the sample most likely dates to AD 1632–1682, providing support for use of the dungeons during the mid-17th century, as reported by primary source accounts.

Table 8-1. Radiocarbon sample for Test Unit 1 showing the results of the high probability density range method.

95.4% probability 68.2% probability Probability Calibrated years Probability Calibrated years 52.6% 1632 – 1682 cal AD 45.5% 1644 – 1668 cal AD 29.9% 1762 – 1803 cal AD 22.7% 1782 – 1797 cal AD 5.9% 1936 – Post AD 1950 5.7% 1526 – 1556 cal AD 1.3% 1738 – 1750 cal AD

Test Unit 2

The location of Test Unit 2 was selected to investigate the presence of a depressed area with a slight rise near the wall of Feature 35; this depression was revealed during the surface collection survey. I thought that TU 2 could also help identify the vertical limits of the site and document subsurface site formation processes. When designing my excavation plan, I also wanted to make sure that I was documenting at least two different areas in each of the

Mazmorras’ partitions (northern, central, and southern). Therefore, the location of TU 2 was also chosen because it is on the opposite side of the mota in the southern partition, A-West of TU 1.

To a lesser extent, TU 2 would look for evidence of a “poorly composed altar” described by

Montalbán (Galán 1913:18). The datum was located on the A-NW corner of the unit, at 97 A-

North and 103 A-East.

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Level 1.The first level of TU 2, of a dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2) color, was excavated to a depth of 10 cm from the datum. It contained modern plastics and discarded modern materials. Four sand-tempered ceramic fragments were collected. Two of the ceramic sherds were joined during the vessel analysis (Pot 14). One faunal specimen was also collected.

Level 2. The soil removed from Level 2 (10–20 cm BD) contained much modern plastics and discarded materials. Two sand-tempered ceramic sherds were recovered from this level. The soil color was dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2) in color.

Level 3. The third level of TU 2 was located from 20 to 30 cm BD and continued to be dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2) in color. From approximately 20 to 25 cm BD, the unit contained a great deal of modern plastic material. However, from 25 to 30 cm BD, the soil became much denser and contained no plastic material. Thirteen sand-tempered ceramic sherds, weighing

89.76 g, were collected. A piece of glass weighing 35 grams was recorded and subsequently discarded.

Level 4. The fourth level of TU 2 (30–40 cm BD) contained small rocks and a high density of ceramic sherds. This level contained 63 sand-tempered ceramic sherds. Two of the ceramic sherds from this level conjoined (Pot 7), while two others refitted with fragments recovered in Level 5 of TU 2, forming Pots 8 and 9. Eleven faunal fragments were collected

(weighing 150 grams in total) as well as seven brick fragments. The most interesting finds from this level were certainly a tobacco pipe and a pipe stem. The tobacco pipe is made of reddish clay and is of unknown origin. I was unable to find a typology for this pipe. The pipe stem, measuring 7.7 cm in length, comes from a white kaolin tobacco pipe. From 30 to 38 cm BD, the soil color for Level 4 was dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2) in color. At 38 cm BD, the dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2) soil became mottled with very pale brown (10YR 8/2) soil.

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Level 5. The fifth level of TU 2 (40–50 cm BD) contained small rocks and a high density of ceramic sherds. Due to the high density of ceramics, bricks, and limestone, the excavation of

Level 5 was constrained to the A-southern half of the unit. Thirty-nine ceramic sherds were recovered, weighing a total of 1153.29 grams. Two of the fragments conjoined (Pot 10) and two other two fragments refitted with sherds recovered from Level 4 of TU 2 (Pots 8 and 9). Eleven faunal fragments were collected (weight = 117 g). Four brick and two limestone fragments were recorded and then discarded, weighing 0.55 kg. The soil mottling of dark grayish brown (2.5Y

4/2) with very pale brown (10YR 8/2) ended at about 45 cm BD. Between 45 and 50 cm BD, the soil returned to dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2).

Level 6. The sixth level of TU 2, located between 50 and 60 cm below datum, contained small rocks and a high density of ceramic sherds. Similar to Level 5, excavations were furthermore restricted to the A-SW corner due to the presence of bricks and large outcroppings of limestone. Fifty-four ceramics were recovered from this level, weighing a total of 2073.65 g.

Two groups of ceramics containing three sherds each were refitted during vessel analysis (Pots 5 and 6). Four faunal fragments and one limestone fragment recovered. The soil color for this level was dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2).

Level 7. The seventh level of TU 2 (60–70 cm BD) was limited to the A-SW corner for the same reasons as Level 6. This dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2) soil was excavated with my bare hands because there was no other way to reach the bottom of the unit. Three ceramics were recovered from this level, weighing 399.44 g.

Level 8. The eight level of TU 2 was limited to a very small portion of A-SW corner and was only partially excavated due to physical limitations of my arm length. Due these limitations, there is no final plan view for TU 2. Level 8 reached a depth of 78 cm BD. A single ceramic

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sherd was recovered from this level. The soil color for this level was dark grayish brown (2.5Y

4/2).

Summary of Test Unit 2. The presence of a large depression within the Mazmorras was explored by Test Unit 2. The depth of this depression is unclear, however; it certainly goes deeper than the 78 cm BD reached by the test unit. Ceramic and faunal evidence suggests that deposits accumulated in this area of the site for several centuries. While the historical record strongly suggests that the deposition of material within the Mazmorras was controlled and that materials were removed to control the rise in ground level, this area has significant potential for future archaeological research. The excavation of Test Unit 2 shows that this area has a very high density of ceramic material.

Test Unit 3

The location of Test Unit 3 was selected to excavate in a purported sacred space.

Montalbán’s survey suggests that an altar was located at Feature 41, in the central partition, but he does not provide any supporting evidence for this claim. During my historical research, I did not find mention of this. The datum of TU 3 was located on the A-NW corner of the unit, at 98.5

A-North and 97 A-East.

Level 1. The soil in the first 10 cm BD of TU 3 was loose and contained many small limestone fragments. No artifacts were retrieved from the grayish brown soil (2.5Y 5/2).

Level 2. The soil in the second level of TU 3 (10 – 20 cm BD) was also loose and contained many small limestone fragments. No artifacts were retrieved from this level. The

Munsell soil color for the A-west side of the unit was dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2) while it was grayish brown (2.5Y 5/2) on the A-east side of the unit.

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Level 3. Located between 20 and 30 cm BD, the soil in Level 3 continued to be loose with many small limestone fragments. No artifacts were recovered from this level. The soil color for this level was exclusively dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2).

Level 4. The soil in the fourth level of TU 3 was dense and contained clay. Located from

30 cm to 40 cm below datum, the soil from this level was grayish brown (2.5Y 5/2) mottled with dark gray (7.5 YR 4/1) clay. Two brick fragments weighing 25 g were collected and discarded.

At 40 cm BD, the limestone floor was exposed in the A-southwestern portion of the unit.

Level 5. Level 5 is located from 40 cm to 50 cm BD. The amount of light brown (7.5YR

6/4) clay in this level decreased while the amount of limestone increased. First present in the A- southwestern portion of the unit, most of the unit exposed a limestone floor by 50 cm BD. There was evidence for a plaster covering over the limestone floor. Artifacts recovered in this level include two brick fragments and one decorative ceramic fragment (M13.56.01). This ceramic sherd is similar to the decorative blue and white tiles recovered at Altar 9, near Location 12. This provides some correlative support for Montalbán’s claims of an altar in this space.

Level 6. Level 6, located between 50 and 59 cm BD, was only present in the A-northern portion of the unit. It consisted of two small areas of soil, while the rest of the unit was covered by limestone. Eight faunal remains were recovered from this level. A radiocarbon sample was collected from charred wood fragments present in the soil of Level 6 (Figure 8-5). To reduce contamination, I wrapped my trowel in aluminum foil and used this tool to remove the sample, which I placed in an aluminum foil pouch.

Summary of Test Unit 3. Test Unit 3 was located to examine an area allegedly designated as sacred space. The three first levels of the unit were sterile and very few artifacts were recovered from the other levels. However, one tile sherd, of the same kind as others

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recovered within the Mazmorras and associated with sacred space, was found in TU 3. However, this discovery provided weak support for Montalbán’s claims for an altar at Feature 41. The archaeological integrity of this unit is uncertain because the radiocarbon sample collected from

Level 6, the deepest level in this unit, provides a date range falling within the 19th and early 20th centuries (AD 1810–1926, Table 8-2). This suggests that the archaeological context of TU 3 may be disturbed and not date to the Early Modern period. It is possible that the tile comes from another area of the site and was brought there by looters or other intruders, long after the disuse of the Mazmorras as a dungeon. The date range of the radiocarbon sample also corresponds with

Montalbán’s cleaning and removal of material within the Mazmorras. In sum, the ceramic fragment stands as insufficient support for Montalbán’s claims and does not authenticate an altar in this space.

Figure 8-5. Top plan of Test Unit 3, facing A-North. Datum is located on the top left corner. Radiocarbon sample was collected from Feature 1. Plan by the author.

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Test Unit 4

Similar to Test Unit 2, the location of Test Unit 4 was selected to ensure an even distribution of archaeological excavations within each partition. It was not possible to place the unit further east, closer to the walls of Feature 27, because of the presence of a very large boulder from ceiling collapse. Therefore, the unit was put closer to the center of the central partition. The datum was located on the A-NW corner of the unit, at 100.5 A-North and 102 A-East.

Table 8-2. Radiocarbon sample for Test Unit 3 showing the results of the high probability density range method.

95.4% probability 68.2% probability Probability Calibrated years Probability Calibrated years 70.5% 1810 – 1926 cal AD 32.6% 1877 –1917 cal AD 24.9% 1690 – 1730 cal AD 20.9% 1696 – 1725 cal AD 14.7% 1814 – 1835 cal AD

Level 1. Taken down to a depth of 10 cm BD, the first level of TU 4 contained modern plastics, modern glass, and many small limestone fragments. Seventeen brick fragments and eight modern ceramic fragments were recorded and then discarded. The soil color for this level was dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2).

Level 2. Level two is located from 10 cm to 20 cm BD. The dark grayish brown (2.5Y

4/2) soil in Level 2 was very dense and contained a considerable amount of limestone material.

One ceramic sherd was recovered and curated, while 14 brick fragments were collected and discarded.

Level 3. The dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2) soil removed from the second level (20–30 cm BD) was dense and contained some limestone material. Modern bottle caps were discarded from this level, indicating evidence for soil disturbance. Five ceramic and 17 brick fragments were also retrieved from this level.

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Level 4. At a depth of 30 to 40 cm BD, Level 4 also revealed evidence for disturbance in the form of modern material and glass. Ten bricks were collected and discarded. The soil color for this level was dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2). This level revealed the presence of an alignment of weathered bricks along the A-east side of the unit and another large brick abutting the A-north wall (Figure 8-6).

Level 5. Level 5 consisted of the surface from the unit that was not covered by brickwork. The level was taken down to sterile limestone, at a final depth of 43 cm BD. No artifacts were recovered from this level. The soil was dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2) in color.

Figure 8-6. Top plan of Test Unit 4, facing A-North. Datum is located on the top left corner. Plan by the author.

Summary of Test Unit 4. Test Unit 4 was located in a disturbed area with loose soil and shallow soil deposits. The majority of artifacts recovered from this unit were of modern origin, with the exception of six ceramic sherds. As indicated by the presence of a boulder to the east of

TU 4, the ceiling in this area appears to be structurally compromised. This problem is

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exacerbated by a grey water pipe installed over the top of the Mazmorras. Leaking from the pipe is an additional concern.

Test Unit 5

The location of Test Unit 5 was selected to satisfy a more even distribution of archaeological excavations within the Mazmorras. This unit was placed near a limestone wall, in the northern partition. The datum was located on the A-NW corner of the unit, at 103.5 A-North and 104 A-East.

Level 1. The first level of TU 5 was taken down to a depth of 10 cm. It contained charcoal and many small limestone fragments. No artifacts were retrieved from this level. The soil was dark grayish brown (10YR 4/2) in color.

Level 2. The soil in the second level of TU 5 (1 –20 cm BD) was loose and contained some clay and many small limestone fragments. Ten ceramics were retrieved from this level, weighing a total of 284.24 g. Three of these ceramic sherds were parts of the same vessel (Pot

15). One of decorative sherd recovered in this level stylistically matches a ceramic assemblage found at Feature 12, on the A-western side of the A-northern partition. Other artifacts from Level

2 include three faunal remains and two brick fragments. The soil was grayish brown (10YR 5/2) in color.

Level 3. The soil in the third level of TU 5 (20–30 cm BD) was loose and contained many small limestone fragments. A limestone floor was uncovered on the A-eastern side of the unit at 25.5 cm BD. This limestone floor sloped downward to the west. Nearly the entire unit consisted of exposed limestone at 30 cm BD. No artifacts were retrieved from this level. A white

(2.5Y 8/1) plaster layer was identified in Level 3; it was present from 21 to 26 cm BD. The soil from the level was grayish brown (10YR 5/2).

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Level 4. A very small amount of grayish brown (10YR 5/2) soil remained in the western side of the unit, at 30 cm BD. Therefore, Level 4 only went down to 30.5 cm BD. No artifacts were recovered from this level.

Summary of Test Unit 5. The presence of a plaster floor in Test Unit 5 provides additional evidence for a plaster floor covering most of the floor within the Mazmorras. Plaster floors were also encountered in Test Units 1 and 3. The most interesting artifact recovered in TU

5 is a decorative ceramic sherd similar to those found near Feature 12, a known sacred space within the Mazmorras. It appears that this tile came from other areas of the site given that the walls near TU 5 are rough and carved in the natural limestone. It does not seem probable that tiles were affixed to these. Therefore, the sherd was likely transported to the area near TU 5 either by natural or human means.

Test Unit 6

The location of Test Unit 6 was chosen to examine an area of designated by Montalbán as the sacristy (Feature 24). The unit was also located adjacent to a large surface deposit of ceramics and faunal material. The datum was located on the A-NE corner of the unit, at 107 A-

North and 105 A-East.

Level 1. Level 1 was excavated down to a depth of 10 cm from the datum. The soil in the first level of TU 6 contained a mix of soils and color types (Figure 8-7). In the A-southern portion of the unit was found a very loose very dark grayish brown (10YR 3/2) soil, about 2 cm thick, that overlaid a dark grayish brown (10YR 4/2) soil. A thin pocket of charcoal was present between 4 and 8 cm BD in the middle of the unit. Starting in the A-northern portion of TU 6, a light gray (10YR 7/2) soil mixed with weathered plaster gradually covered the entire unit as depth increased. The thickness of this soil varied between 2.5 and 5 cm. It rested on a thin limestone floor identified at 7.5 cm BD, which sloped from A-north to A-south. Finally,

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underneath the plaster floor was a very pale brown (10YR 8/2) soil mixed with weathered plaster fragments. Five ceramic fragments and four faunal remains were recovered in this level.

Level 2. The sediments in the second level of TU 6 consisted of a layer of weathered plaster and soil of a very pale brown (10YR 8/2) color. Level 2 was excavated to a culturally sterile limestone, at a depth of 18 cm below datum. One ceramic sherd was recovered from this level.

Figure 8-7. Profile of west wall of Test Unit 6. Plan by the author.

Summary of Test Unit 6. Similar to TU 1, TU3, and TU 5, Test Unit 6 provides additional evidence for a plaster floor constructed within the Mazmorras. Additionally, this shallow unit demonstrates that the natural limestone floor of the Mazmorras is higher in elevation on the A-northern side than on the A-southern side. Despite the abundance of ceramics collected in this area during the surface collection survey, none combined with sherds recovered in TU 6. The archaeological material recovered in TU 6 was not sufficient to determine whether this area of the Mazmorras was used as a sacristy or sacred space.

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Test Unit 7

The location of Test Unit 7 was chosen to examine an alleged sacred space designated as a confessional by Montalbán, near Feature 6. The datum was located on the A-NE corner of the unit, at 108.5A-North and 99 A-East.

Level 1. Level 1 was excavated to a depth of 10 cm below datum. The first 4 cm consisted of a very dark grayish brown (10YR 3/2) soil. It overlaid a predominantly very pale brown (10YR 8/2) soil mixed with some pale green (GLEY1 6/2) soil. Artifacts recovered in this level include five ceramic sherds, one faunal specimen, two brick fragments, and one tobacco pipe. The latter is a white kaolin clay tobacco pipe of English manufacture (Figures 8-8 and 8-9).

It bears the royal coat of arms of the United Kingdom (from the House of Hanover) on the rear of the bowl, which are flanked by two supporters: the English crowned lion and the Scottish unicorn. Below the coat of arms, it is possible to read part of the motto of English monarchs,

Dieu et mon droit, while some of the letters from the motto of the Order of the Garter, Honi soit qui mal y pense, located in the center of the coat of arms, are also visible. The front of the bowl is decorated with leaves and flowers, which are referred to as “Prince of Wales feathers.”

These stylistic features, in particular the shape of the Prince of Wales feathers, the arrangement of the words Dieu et mon droit, and the shape of the lion’s tail, all date the pipe to the mid-18th century (Atkinson and Oswald 1980:370–381). The position of the motto, the style of the unicorn and coat of arms, lack of maker’s mark, and profile of the pipe, are similar to Pipe

22 recovered from the archaeological site of Paul’s Wharf, in London. Pipes recovered from this site were manufactured between 1740 and 1780 (Le Cheminant 1981:114, 124).

Level 2. Level 2 is located from 10 cm to 20 cm BD. The very dark grayish brown

(10YR 3/2) soil in the second level of TU 6 contained limestone, pale green (GLEY 1 6/2) clay, and some plaster. With the exception of the eastern end of the unit, most of this unit reached

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culturally sterile limestone by 19 cm BD. Twenty-six ceramics and three bricks were recovered from this level.

Level 3. A very shallow pit was present in the eastern side of the unit. It was excavated to a depth of 24 cm BD. The material in this pit consisted of weathered plaster and very pale brown

(10YR 8/2) soil. Two ceramic sherds and four faunal specimens were recovered in this layer.

A B

Figure 8-8. Mid-18th century British tobacco pipe. A) Side with the crowned lion. B) side with the unicorn. Photo by the author.

Summary of Test Unit 7. Test Unit 7 confirms the findings from TU 6: the elevation of limestone floor of the Mazmorras rises gradually as you move A-north. Unfortunately, the shallow soils of the A-northern portion of the site and evident disturbance documented within the

Mazmorras mean that the archaeological integrity of this test unit cannot be ascertained. The pipe is one of the few datable artifacts recovered during excavations, but its presence within the first 10 cm of TU 7 alone cannot provide a firm occupation date for the Mazmorras.

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Figure 8-9. Mid-18th century British tobacco pipe with the Royal coat of arms of the United Kingdom (House of Hanover) on the rear of the bowl. Photo by the author.

Excavation Unit 1

Excavation Unit 1 was placed in front of the Capilla de Nuestra Señora de los Dolores

(Feature 14). The reasons this excavation unit were three-fold. First, restorative plans called for the creation of an entrance to the Mazmorras through the ceiling of the riad located above this room. Since this location would become the new point of access, it would be significantly impacted by construction activities. Second, Montalbán emphasized the unique character of the

Capilla de Nuestra Señora de los Dolores compared to other areas of the site, based on his collection of artifacts in Features 14 and 16. Third, the room (Feature 18) and well (Feature 19) near the Capilla are not mentioned in 16th and 17th century historical accounts. Considering the importance of water and fresh air in a stifling subterranean dungeon, it is curious that no historical sources refer to a well that would have both provided water and ventilation. Therefore, the excavation in this area intended to look for clues of sacred space or indications of structural

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change. The datum was located on the A-NW corner of the unit, at 104A-North and 95 A-East.

Due to the arrangement of the room, the A-SW corner was cut off by a wall.

Level 1. Level 1 did not exceed a depth of more than 7 cm BD. In the A-NW corner, the light gray (10YR 7/2) soil was loosely compacted in the top 2 to 3 cm. The top 2 to 3 cm in the remainder of the unit contained dense soil with clay content. This soil was dark grayish brown

(10YR 4/2) in color with sporadic mottling of light gray (10YR 7/2). Under these layers was a dense layer of very pale brown (10YR 8/2) plaster. Underneath the plaster was a layer of brick and mortar. All of the plaster was removed to expose a rectangular brickwork oriented in the direction of Capilla de Nuestra Señora de los Dolores (Figure 8-10). The brickwork appeared to be recessed into culturally sterile limestone.

Figure 8-10. Brickwork recessed into limestone, facing A-SE, in Excavation Unit 1. Photo by the author.

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I considered that the brickwork was an artifact that was part of the room. I decided not to remove it to investigate what was underneath because this process would likely be destructive and would have provided me little information. Indeed, when I probed around the brickwork, I could feel that the natural limestone floor covering the Mazmorras was just underneath. I photographed the brickwork, drew up a plan of the excavation unit, and covered it with soil to protect it. The closing elevations for Excavation 1 were the following: A-SW 4 cm BD, A-NW 7 cm BD, A-NE 3 cm BD, and Center 5 cm BD. There was no SE corner for this unit. A total of ten ceramics fragments were recovered from this level, weighing a total of 47.8 grams.

Summary of Excavation Unit 1. The short excavation near the Capilla de Nuestra

Señora de los Dolores revealed distinct structural elements from the rest of the Mazmorras.

Materials to support to use of this area as a sacred space were not recovered during excavation.

However, several architectural elements and historical clues suggest that this room was built later than the mid-17th century. First, d’Aranda and Tamayo do not mention the presence of a well or a capilla in their accounts. Second, d’Aranda and K hn (1741:172-173) speak about water being lowered through the grates to the prisoners; this would not have been necessary if a well was present within the Mazmorras. Third, d’Aranda and Tamayo both describe how the Mazmorras are divided into three partitions. The Capilla appears like an addition to the original plan. Fourth, in every other unit, when a floor was identified, it consisted of a simple layer of plaster with ceramic or brick inclusions. The floor in Excavation Unit 1 is far more elaborate and the brickwork is recessed and directionally oriented within the limestone. This suggests a different construction history. Fifth, the bricks used in this floor are thin and appear identical to the bricks found in the Ben Marzouk Riad, just above the Capilla (Figure 8-2). Dr. Nadia Erzini told me that the riad located above the Capilla was built later than the mid-17th century (i.e., later than

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d’Aranda’s and Tamayo’s accounts)3. Given that the bricks found in the riad are similar to those found in the Capilla, they are likely contemporaneous.

Excavation Unit 2

Excavation Unit 2 was placed in front of the space that Montalbán described as the high altar of the Mazmorras (Feature 5). Similar to the goals of Excavation Unit 1, it was hoped that this excavation would uncover evidence of sacred space or structural change. The datum was located on the A-SW corner of the unit, at 106 A-North and 101 A-East.

Level 1. The surface of Excavation Unit 2 was sloped. As measured from the datum point, the depth of the surface was the following: A-SW 0 cm BD, A-NW 10 cm BD, A-NE 11 cm BD, A-SE 3 cm BD, and Center 10 cm BD. With the exception of the A-NE section, Level 1 was taken down to a depth of 10 cm BD. Sixteen ceramic, two glass, and nine brick fragments were recovered in this level. All of these ceramic sherds were modern Zellij tiles identical to the type found in the Ben Marzouk riad. The soil was dark grayish brown (10YR 4/2) in color.

Level 2. As measured from the datum, the surface of Level 2 was 10 cm BD but for the

A-NW corner which had a depth of 11 cm BD. The unit was excavated to the following depths:

A-SW 16 cm BD, A-NW 13 cm BD, A-NE 12 cm BD, A-SE 14 cm BD, and Center 15 cm BD.

The level was excavated to sterile limestone unless obstructed with brick protrusions. The excavation of Level 2 uncovered an arch made of thin bricks carved into the limestone in front of the “high altar”. In front of this arch were several large stones that could not be moved. Many artifacts were recovered from Level 2, including 37 ceramic sherds and three faunal remains.

While most of these ceramics are examples of modern zellij, five ceramic sherds are similar to the type found on the walls, near the altar. The soil was dark grayish brown (2.5Y 4/2) in color.

3 Nadia Erzini, personal communication, 2013.

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Summary of Excavation Unit 2. Excavation Unit 2 revealed an area of disturbed archaeological context in front of the space that Montalbán describes as the high altar. Similar to the space in front of the Capilla de Nuestra Señora de los Dolores, the space in front of the “high altar” presents distinctive brickwork recessed into the limestone, although it is not as extensive as the Capilla’s brickwork. However, the artifactual assemblage does not provide conclusive evidence for the use of this area as a sacred space.

Vessel Analysis

During ceramic analysis, 20 partial ceramic vessels were reconstructed by conjoining sherds recovered during the surface collection survey and in the Test and Excavations Units.

This refitting project was an attempt to recreate vessel forms as well as understand site formation processes and artifact movement. Elmer’s glue was used to bind ceramic fragments; it was the best and least destructive adhesive that I could find in Morocco. Surface treatment colors were recorded using the Munsell Soil Color Chart.

Pot 1 is a nearly complete amphora vessel with a white slip. Nine ceramic sherds were refitted to reconstruct this vessel. All the ceramic sherds from this vessel were recovered on the surface, near TU 6. The combined weight of these fragments was 3,322 g. The outside rim diameter of the rim is 7.8 cm. The height of the reconstructed vessel is 28.6 cm and the width is

25.6 cm (Figure 8-11).

Pot 2 was assembled from two ceramic rim sherds recovered on the surface, near TU 6.

Both sherds were 7.92 mm thick. These sherds were fragments of a brownish yellow salt-glazed and sand-tempered vessel. The weight of Pot 2 was 512 g. It has an outside rim diameter of 25 cm (Figure 8-12).

Pot 3 was assembled from four rim and body sherds recovered from the ledge of Altar 9.

These sherds are fragments of a sand-tempered vessel with a dark reddish brown salt-surface

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treatment. The rim thickness ranges from 5.57 to 6.59 mm. Pot 3 weighs 29 g. No profile was drawn for Pot 3.

Pot 4 was assembled from two body ceramic sherds recovered on the surface, near TU 6.

These sherds come from an unglazed and sand-tempered vessel. Pot 4 weighs 115 g. No profile was drawn for Pot 4.

Pot 5 was assembled from three rim and body ceramic sherds recovered in Level 6 of TU

2. The sherds are fragments of a sand-tempered vessel with a black slip. The style of Pot 5 matches that of Pot 6 but fragments of these pots do not conjoin. Pot 5 weighs 115 g. No profile was drawn for Pot 5.

Figure 8-11. Profile of Pot 1. Drawing by the author.

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Figure 8-12. Profile of Pot 2. Drawing by the author.

Pot 6 was assembled from three rim and body ceramic sherds recovered in Level 6 of TU

2. Pot 6 weighs 148 g. The rim thickness of the rim varies from 9.98 to 11.77 mm. The sherds are fragments of a larger a sand-tempered vessel with black slip. As mentioned above, these fragments have a similar surface treatment as those of Pot 5 but they do not refit with them. No profile was drawn for Pot 6.

Pot 7 was assembled from two body ceramic sherds recovered in Level 4 of TU 2. These sherds come from a sand-tempered vessel with a very pale brown slip. Pot 7 weighs 90 g. No profile was drawn for Pot 7.

Pot 8 was assembled from two base ceramic sherds recovered in Levels 4 and 5 of TU 2.

These sherds were fragments of a sand-tempered vessel with a pinkish white slip. Pot 8 weighs

440 g. No profile was drawn for Pot 8.

Pot 9 was assembled from two rim ceramic sherds also recovered in Levels 4 and 5 of TU

2. These sherds come from a sand-tempered vessel with a strong brown salt glaze. Pot 9 weighs

158 g. The thickness of the rim ranges from 12.24 to 12.38mm. No profile was drawn for Pot 9.

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Pot 10 was assembled from two body ceramic sherds recovered in Level 5 of TU 2.

These sherds were fragments of a sand-tempered vessel with a strong brown salt glaze. Pot 10 weighs 15 g. No profile was drawn for Pot 10.

Pot 11 was assembled from two body ceramic sherds recovered on the surface, near TU

6. These sherds are part of a larger sand-tempered vessel with a very pale brown sip. Pot 11 weighs 28 g. No profile was drawn for Pot 11.

Pot 12 was assembled from two body ceramic sherds recovered on the surface, near TU

6. These sherds come from a sand-tempered vessel with a very pale brown slip. Pot 11 weighs 22 g. No profile was drawn for Pot 12.

Pot 13 was assembled from one body, one base, and one rim ceramic fragments. These sherds were recovered in Level 4 of TU 1. These sherds come from a sand-tempered vessel with a very pale brown slip. Pot 13 weighs 54 g. No profile was drawn for Pot 13.

Pot 14 was assembled from one body and one rim ceramic fragments recovered in Level

2 of TU 1. The sherds are fragments from a larger sand-tempered vessel with a dark yellowish brown salt glaze. Pot 14 weighs 62 g. No profile was drawn for Pot 14.

Pot 15 was assembled from three body ceramic fragments recovered in Level 2 of TU 5.

These sherds come from a sand-tempered vessel with a very pale brown slip. Pot 15 weighs 79 g.

No profile was drawn for Pot 15.

Pot 16 was assembled from three body ceramic fragments recovered on the surface, near

TU 6. These sherds were unglazed with a sand temper. Pot 16 weighs 97 g. No profile was drawn for Pot 16.

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Pot 17 was assembled from nine unglazed ceramic rim and body sherds all recovered from the surface near TU 6. The combined weight of these fragments is 937 g. The outside rim diameter measures 28 cm, while the width of the reconstructed vessel is 48 cm (Figure 8-13).

Pot 18 was assembled from two ceramic fragments recovered on the surface near TU 6.

These sherds were unglazed with a sand temper. Pot 18 weighs 200 g. No profile was drawn for

Pot 18.

Pot 19 was assembled from 13 base and body ceramic fragments recovered on the surface near TU 6. One sherd was also recovered from Test Unit, Level 3. These sherds are unglazed with a sand temper. Pot 19 weighs 3,475 g. No profile was drawn for Pot 18.

Pot 20 was assembled from three unglazed, sand-tempered ceramic rim, body, and base sherds all recovered on the surface near TU 6. The combined weight of these fragments is 6,245 g. The outside diameter and width of the reconstructed vessel is 25 cm (Figure 8-14).

Figure 8-13. Profile of Pot 17. Drawing by the author.

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Figure 8-14. Profile of Pot 20. Drawing by the author.

Twenty vessels were partially reconstructed for this study but none formed a complete pot. In fact, only four vessels, all recovered near Test Unit 6, were sufficiently complete to draw a ceramic profile. With one exception of Pot 19, all vessels fragments were located in close proximity to one another. Most of the reconstructed vessels were formed of sherds that were either recovered from the surface or from excavations. In the case of the surface collection survey, conjoined ceramic sherds were collected within the same room. Vessels reconstructed from excavated ceramics were nearly all located within the same or within adjacent excavation levels.

The shape of five reconstructed vessels shows a diversity of styles: amphora (Pot 1), large shallow bowl reminiscent of a serving dish (Pots 2 and 20), jar-looking pottery (Pot 17), and large bucket-shaped pottery (Pot 19). All these vessels are plain in style. Unfortunately, their contribution to my archaeological study is limited because they were all recovered from the disturbed surface of the Mazmorras. However, the ceramic sherds recovered in the lower levels of the test and excavation units are informative. The manufacture of these ceramics is plain.

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These turned ceramics are nearly all sand-tempered. Some are slipped and some are not. None are decorated, with the exception of a jar sherd decorated with indentations. Some of the weathered ceramics are clearly of low quality. Overall, the pottery made available to the prisoners was of low-quality, simple, and undecorated. It was likely made locally. Unfortunately, because the sherds present few distinct characteristics, they are difficult to date.

Discussion

Problems of urgency, heritage concerns, and planned restorations were central to determining the goals for the present archaeological study. The first goal was to digitally preserve the site before any excavation and restorative activities took place. The second goal was to document subsurface site formation processes to determine whether the archaeological integrity of the site had been preserved. This included documenting the introduction of modern material within the Mazmorras. The third goal was to verify the vertical limits of the site so as to identify whether some parts of the Mazmorras were higher in elevation than others, to identify the depth of archaeological deposits, and to identify areas filled with debris and/or archaeological material. The fourth goal was to document the occupation of the Mazmorras through artifact collection and radiocarbon dating so as to verify the authenticity of the Mazmorras as a site for

Christian captives. This data would become essential if an interpretation center on the

Mazmorras were to be created in Tétouan. Finally, the fifth goal was to locate and evaluate areas of moderate and high artifact densities that could be protected from the impact of construction work in the Mazmorras and could be the object of future archaeological work. This section addresses each of these goals through a summary of my archaeological findings.

Digital Preservation

I used a panoramic method to reconstruct a visually accurate and immersive virtual environment of the interior of the Mazmorras as it existed before excavations and restorative

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work. In fact, when I first entered the Mazmorras, it was unclear whether I would later have access to the site to conduct archaeological excavations. Given that heritage management plans proposed by Moroccan authorities did not include an archaeological phase, it was imperative to make a record of the Mazmorras’ interior appearance. My visit to Habs Kara in Meknes had made it clear that restorative work could considerably alter the interior of a site (see Chapter 4).

Additionally, the compromised structural integrity of the site also meant that there would likely be an immediate need for support of the weakened ceiling. These concerns turned out to be real when temporary supports were erected inside the Mazmorras after the excavations.

Another outcome from producing a virtual tour was the creation of an immersive environment. The reconstructed interior of the Mazmorras makes it easier to understand historical descriptions of the site. Maps and photographs alone flatten reality and do not capture the confining sensation found within a subterranean dungeon; the weight of the city bears down on you. The virtual tour allows a more accurate sense of space within the Mazmorras for both academic and public audiences. Because my research was funded by public funds, it was my duty to make my research easily accessible by hosting the virtual tour online.

While this virtual environment is accessible online and meets or exceeds current resolution standards for digital displays, the panoramic photos that I took contain far more resolution than what I currently make available online. This means that I will be able to reconstruct the virtual environment to meet future resolution standards in an ever-improving digital age. Additionally, I also photographed many areas of interest up close, such as broken ceramics found within niches and nails found on the walls. All recovered and curated ceramics were digitally preserved using 2D photos and the tobacco pipes and profiled reconstructed vessels were digitally preserved through photogrammetric methods. I plan to add the 2D and 3D

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photogrammetry images to the virtual tour and make them available to researchers who would want to study specific artifacts or areas of the interior.

Subsurface Site Formation and Vertical Limits

A topographical survey of the surface of the Mazmorras revealed a surface slope going downward from the A-north to the A-south (Figure 8-15). The excavations confirmed that the limestone floor of the dungeons follows the same sloping trend. Units in A-northern side were shallow, with a depth between 20 and 30 cm, while those placed in the central and A-southern side reached a depth close to 60 cm. Test Unit 2 is an exception because it has a dense and deep artifactual deposit below the plaster layer. Despite a closing depth of 78 cm, sterile limestone was not reached during excavations.

I identified in most test and excavation units a light gray or very pale brown, weathered plaster layer between the surface deposits and limestone floor. The presence of modern-day artifacts above the plaster layer suggests that the archaeological context of upper excavation levels may be disturbed. Modern intrusive material was identified on the surface in all three partitions of the Mazmorras. The A-northernmost partition contains hundreds of modern-era zellij tiles and kilos of brick fragments. The 21th-century material also appears to have entered the Mazmorras from the ceiling in the central and A-southern partition. There are two points of access for foreign material in the central partition: a metal door on the ceiling and a structural failure (a large section of the ceiling collapsed and fell to the ground). The modern material in the A-southern partition also appears to come from a structural failure as evidenced by a mass of soil and modern trash leeching out of Locations 21, 32, 33, and 45. While modern disturbance is present above the plaster level, the levels found below this plaster floor appeared to be undisturbed. I did not find any evidence for modern material under the plaster layer.

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Figure 8-15. Map showing the surface elevation of the Mazmorras before excavation. Map by the author.

Based on my ceramic analysis, I also observed little movement of artifacts within the

Mazmorras. The only instance comes from one ceramic sherd recovered from the surface of the

A-southern partition that conjoins with another sherd found in the A-northern end of the

Mazmorras.

Overall, despite the substantial intrusion of modern material within the Mazmorras, I observed little surface movement of artifacts. The archaeological integrity of the lowest levels of the test and excavation units also appears to have been preserved. This suggests that materials and radiocarbon samples recovered from these levels can potentially provide information on occupation of the Mazmorras during the Early Modern period.

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Ascertaining Historical Sources from Archaeological Survey and Excavations

This section compares the results of the archaeological survey and excavations to descriptions found in the historical accounts by d’Aranda, Tamayo, Contreras, Gozalbes Busto, and Montalbán. It first examines the accuracy of description and measurements of interior space and designation of certain rooms as sacred space. Then archaeological evidence for use of the

Mazmorras during the Early Modern period is considered.

Description and measurements of the interior space

Qualifying the interior descriptions and measurements of space inside the Mazmorras as provided in primary accounts first needs to consider how human perception is affected by the interior conditions. The accounts all describe the sense of confinement created by the limited light and thick air, a feeling that I experienced during my excavation of the Mazmorras; I would have doubted any accounts that did not include recollection of this sort. Indeed, the historical sources generally agree that the Mazmorras were overcrowded, near pitch-dark dungeons. The prisoners lived in awful sanitary conditions, enduring hunger and fear. They at times fought each other. External stresses also contributed to the misery inside. For instance, d’Aranda describes how young boys agitated the prisoners from above. I argue that these conditions likely contributed to inaccurate measurements of the interior space.

Research shows that observers in conditions of low illumination tend to underestimate far distances and overestimate near distances (Gogel 1969; Gogel and Tietz 1973). Low lighting conditions can both distort vision and perceived distance in many ways; for example, it was documented that low light can create temporary myopia (Ono et al. 1986; Owens and Liebowitz

1976, 1980). Physical stress can also distort how individuals gauge distance (Proffitt et al. 2003).

Therefore, distance perception was likely distorted for those whose Early Modern accounts I report in this study.

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My review of interior measurements from d’Aranda and Tamayo demonstrates that they made some mistakes when compared to the dimensions that I collected during mapping of the

Mazmorras. While Tamayo’s description captures the oblong shape of the drungeons and he accurately measures the height from ground to ceiling, his dimensions for length and width do not match up with modern dimensions. His length of 20 pasos (27.8 m) is too long by approximately 10 m and his width ranging from three to four pasos (5.6 m) is too narrow by approximately 4 m. d’Aranda does not provide length or width measurements to compare with

Tamayo’s descriptions, but his height measurement of 30 [French] feet is too great.

Despite the fact that the gruesome conditions of the Mazmorras likely impacted perception, many dimensions given by Contreras, Tamayo and d’Aranda are consistent with one another and compare well to the results of my survey. d’Aranda accurately describes the largest mota as measuring 28 [French] feet (9.1 m) in length, although his width measurement of 24

[French] feet (7.8 m) is short by 1 m. Contreras and Tamayo provide a figure of three estados

(5.01 m) for the height of the Mazmorras. The height from the current ground level to each grate is between 4.3 and 4.5 meters. Even discounting the rise in soil elevation from modern deposits or the additional distance from the grates to the street level, their estimates of three estados, or three average men, is roughly accurate.

Two other elements that serve to confirm the historical accounts from Contreras, Tamayo and d’Aranda are the descriptions of the general arrangement of the interior and grated skylights.

Tamayo and d’Aranda accurately describe the arrangement of the Mazmorras into three partitions (or motas) and point out the presence of three grated skylights, one for each partition.

During my excavations, I was able to identify the location of the three skylights. The northern skylight is still covered with a thick grate, while the grate of the southern partition has fallen to

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the ground. I left this grate in situ. The skylights are only visible from the inside of the

Mazmorras as the openings were covered up with masonry. Contreras also accurately describes the many narrow passages found in the dungeons. The description of three grated skylights can be found in a later early 18th century account (K hn 1741:172–173). In sum, the combined accuracy of d’Aranda, Tamayo, and Contreras accounts is a strong argument for the authenticity of these primary sources.

Sacred space

One of the goals of this archaeological study was to ascertain the presence of sacred space inside the Mazmorras. Primary and secondary sources strongly suggest the existence of religious space in the Mazmorras, yet the primary accounts are unclear on the location of these spaces. In his early 20th century account, Montalbán assigns sacred space to many areas of the dungeons but these designations seem to lack historical corroboration. He argues that he recovered several artifacts of religious function, but these are now lost. Therefore, I was not able to examine them to provide an independent study of the material. While Tamayo’s 17th-century account mentions the presence of some religious space (i.e., two altars located in two different partitions) inside the Mazmorras, Montalbán refers to many sacred spaces (see Table 7-1). The stark difference between the two accounts suggests that important changes may have been made to the interior of the Mazmorras over the course of two centuries. The following section reviews the archaeological evidence recovered from five locations identified as sacred spaces by

Montalbán to corroborate and/or refute the historical sources.

Location 12. Both Gómez Moreno (cited in Gozalbes Busto 1992) and Montalbán describe decorative tiles found at Location 12. Gómez Moreno believes that they date to the 17th century while Montalbán assigns them an earlier date, either from the 15th or 16th century. I found 15 decorative tiles grouped in a corner of a high ledge, in the arched access-way between

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the Capilla and Altar 9 (Figure 8-16), referred to as Location 12. I consulted Dr. Nadia Erzini, a local scholar in Tétouan, for help with the ceramic analysis. She identified at least three types of ceramics: four zellij tiles, seven 17th-century Tunisian Qallaline tiles, and one Spanish

Renaissance tiles from the 15th or 16th century4. Three tiles could not be identified to a particular type; two of those are thin-glazed with blue leaves on a white background. The zellij type refers to common mosaic tiles of North African origin; those in Location 12 are small and green or white in color. The unique Spanish Renaissance tile is decorated with a white circular band (which likely forms a wreath if grouped by four) and blue swirl on a yellow-orange background. The Tunisian Quallaline type presents a green circular band (which would form a wreath when grouped by four) with three blue flowers with yellow stem, on a white background.

These identifications are supported by Clara Ilham Álvarez Dopico’s (2010) dissertation on

Tunisian Qallaline tiles.

Possible support for Location 12 as a sacred space comes from the association of

Tunisian Qallaline tiles with sacred space in the medina of Tétouan. Dr. Erzini pointed out a complete arrangement of Tunisian Qallaline tiles on the facade of the mausoleum of Sidi Sa'idi.

In a complete context, the tiles are arranged in a group of four, with a green wreath and blue flowers with yellow stems (Figure 8-17). It is possible the captives wanted to decorate spaces that they held important with beautiful materials. The tile mismatch in Location 12 suggests that they likely decorated the interior with what they could scavenge. This makes the dating of this construction event difficult because tiles could come from many different time periods.

However, the time and effort invested in decorating a ledge, a conspicuous location for rare

4 Nadia Erzini, personal communication, 2013.

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decorative work inside the Mazmorras, suggests that this space was important and might have held a particular significance for the captives.

Figure 8-16. Group of Zellij, Tunisian Quallaline, and Spanish Renaissance tiles found on a ledge, in Location 12. The zellij tiles are the small green and white tiles near the ceiling. The 17th-century Tunisian Qallaline tiles are the first three in the upper left row and the grouped four in the lower right corner. The Spanish Renaissance tile is the third tile from the left in the lower row. Photo by the author.

High Altar. The high altar (Location 5) was an area of high interest of my archaeological survey. Several artifacts support claims for the religious function of this space. Gozalbes Busto

(1992:171) makes reference to a 1648 account describing the presence of wooden material at the high altar. In his study, Montalbán explained that he removed wooden remnants decorated with green, black, and white tiles, and wooden remnants of an altar table near this location. While I did not find any wood at Location 5, I discovered several nails in the niche that Montalbán refers to as the high altar (Figure 8-18). The presence of nails at this location appears consistent with the fastening of wooden material to the walls.

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Figure 8-17. Tunisian Qallaline tiles on the facade of the mausoleum of Sidi Sa'idi, in the medina of Tétouan. Notice the arrangement of tiles with a green wreath and blue flowers on the upper right corner, matching tiles found in Location 12 of the Mazmorras. Photo by the author.

The westerly orientation of this structure is problematic for its alleged function as a

“High Altar.” There are examples of western facing apses in Roman Catholic churches for the early church. However, this westerly orientation would be unusual for a 17th century Catholic high altar. The disorienting dark space below and structural limitations of the interor could provide an explanation for this unusual interior orientation.

The 1648 account from Gozalbes Busto does coincide with structural evidence near the

“high altar.” The strong brick arch mentioned in the account is in accordance with the archways near the altar. The mention of the mota in the account precludes its location at the Capilla de

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Nuestra Señora de los Dolores. Historical accounts are clear that the motas are directly underneath the three grated apertures. None of these apertures are near the Capilla.

Figure 8-18. Nail in the niche of the “high altar.” Photo by the author.

Additionally, the 1648 account suggests the creation of a Mercedarian cult shrine. The

Mercedarians were founded in 1218 in Spain by Father Peter Nolasco to redeem Christians from their Muslim captors. Both Saint Father Nolasco and Saint Ramón Nonato were both important cult figures for the Mercedarian order in the Early Modern period (Taylor 2000:406), and cult icons could be oriented near the high altar (Nagel 2011:111).

Many decorative tiles were recovered near the putative altar. In the left border of the arch leading to the altar, I identified two green and two white zellij, one highly weathered tile with yellow and green decoration, and a triangular tile fragment decorated with a mix of blue, yellow, green, and white motifs (Figure 8-19A). A row of four tiles with the same motif as the latter was found on the right wall of the altar. On the ledge of the altar were a front row of thin, red bricks and a back row of black tiles. Finally, three thin-glazed blue-and-white tiles with a leaf motif

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were found on the back wall of the altar niche (Figure 8-19B). These are a match for those found in Location 12. Many more tiles likely covered the walls of this altar. Despite the eclecticism of tile styles, it appears that an effort was made to arrange tiles of similar style together.

A B

Figure 8-19. Group of tiles at the “high altar.” A) Tiles on the arch. From top to bottom: two green and two white zellij, one tile with yellow and green decoration, and one triangular tile fragment decorated with a mix of blue, yellow, green, and white motifs. B) Group of tiles in the altar and its niche. In the niche: three blue-and-white tiles with a leaf motif. On the right wall of the altar: row of four tiles with a mix of blue, yellow, green, and white motifs. Photo by the author.

Altar 9. Another altar described by Montalbán is an elevated brick surface, recessed within an arch at Location 9. I identified this space during my survey. Several loose tile fragments were found on the ledge of the altar. This includes two green and one white zellij, one thin-glazed tile with white background and blue decorations, and one tile decorated with a mix of

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blue, yellow, white, and green designs. The latter (M13.73.06) is similar to the triangular tile found on the left border of the arch at the “high altar.” The blue-and-white tile is in the same style as two tiles from Location 12 and three tiles at the “high altar”. It is very plausible that this area could be an additional altar.

Capilla de Nuestra Señora de los Dolores. The Chapel of Our Lady of Sorrows is a sacred space that Montalbán discovered hidden behind a 1.8 m-thick wall at Location 14. He describes the space as being “better decorated than the others, with tiles of equal or better decoration than the other altars” (Montalban 1929:29). The current state of this niche is far poorer than Montalbán’s description suggests. However, it is possible that the closing of this room for many years, perhaps even centuries, preserved it better than the other altars documented by Montalbán within the Mazmorras. Damage to the Capilla may also have been caused in the some 90 years that elapsed between Montalbán’s study and my excavations.

No surface artifacts were recovered in this area. The niche has two different elevations, with a step in the back of the niche. Most of the forward facing tiles have been removed and only a few remain in situ. On the edge of the niche which Montalbán refers to as the Altar of Our

Lady of Sorrows, I found four alternating white and green zellij. Additional zellij fragments and one thin-glazed white-and-blue tile were observed on the step of the niche. These tiles are similar to those found in other alleged sacred spaces in the Mazmorras (e.g., Location 12, “high altar”, and Altar 9).

Altar 41. Montalbán places an altar at Location 41, although he does not support his claim with evidence. Test Unit 3 was placed in this location to determine whether this space had a sacred function. At Location 41, I recovered a single tile fragment matching the tiles from

Location 12. However, the stratigraphic integrity of this unit appeared to be compromised, with

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an accumulation of modern debris and a radiocarbon date ranging from the early 19th to early

20th centuries.

Summary. The few artifacts recovered at location 12, “high altar,” altar 9, Capilla de

Nuestra Señora de los Dolores, and altar 41 do not provide definitive evidence for the use of these locations as sacred space. However, the architecture of these locations is very similar, generally consisting of an alcove with a niche dug into the limestone wall. This architecture is reminiscent of basic religious alcoves found in many Catholic churches. The few decorative tiles observed on the walls, which were definitely more extensive in the past, stand out in comparison to the bare limestone walls and overall austerity of the dungeons. In fact, tiles were only found in these five locations. This strongly suggests that these spaces were special in some way. The time and effort invested in decorating the walls and the attention to aesthetics (e.g., matching patterns) reinforce this hypothesis. It seems plausible that the Christians held in the Mazmorras turn to their religious faith to carry them through the hardship of captivity. d’Aranda (1666:123, 197) reports that captives in bagnos would pay for religious services and to have a priest stay with them. It is possible that the Mazmorras captives funded similar endeavors. Therefore, the archaeological and historical evidence strongly suggest that some spaces in the Mazmorras were used for religious purposes, although not to the extent described by Montalbán.

Documenting and dating site occupation

Archaeological survey and excavations provided evidence for the use of the Mazmorras as a carceral space during the Early Modern period. One important observation from the excavation and test units is the scarcity of artifacts recovered. It is possible that the upper excavation levels were depleted in artifacts because of Montalbán’s artifact collection in the

1920s. However, this would not explain the dearth of artifacts in the lower excavation levels (i.e., below the plaster floor). The function of the Mazmorras as a prison may explain this

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phenomenon. d’Aranda (1666:59–60) writes that food was brought to slaves and that waste was removed from the Mazmorras. The control of sediment accumulation on the floor was fundamental in preventing escape of the prisoners through the grates in the ceiling. This site was a dungeon, and not a domestic space for slave families.

Despite conditions that limit the presence of artifacts, this study provided archaeological support for the primary sources. The plain, low-quality ceramics recovered in the lower excavation levels are consistent with the type of objects that would be made accessible to prisoners. The remains of a plaster floor that covered most of, if not all, the surface of the

Mazmorras were identified in nearly all test and excavation units. It is not clear when the surface of the Mazmorras was plastered but no modern artifacts were recovered underneath the plaster layer. This plaster appears to have sealed accumulations underneath. Indeed, a radiocarbon sample from the deepest level of TU 1, about 7 cm below the plaster floor, provides evidence for human occupation of the Mazmorras during the mid-17th century. This gives credence to

Tamayo’s and d’Aranda’s personal accounts. The floor was not the only plastered surface in the

Mazmorras; in fact, nearly all the walls have traces of plaster. The floor may have been plastered because it created a smoother surface to clean than the natural limestone floor of the Mazmorras.

However, lime plaster acts as a long-lasting fungicide, which inhibits mold growth even in damp environments (Pieckova 2007:77; Ropp 2013:121). This suggests that the owners of the

Mazmorras possibly plastered the floor and walls to prevent their human possessions from getting sick from mold and fungus in the dungeons. This inexpensive interior modification would guarantee a good return on investment.

In an inversion of archaeological principles—most archaeological data coming from the excavation of sediments—the ceiling and walls of the Mazmorras constituted an important

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source of information for documenting the occupation and use of the site. I found several wrought iron nails pinned to the walls of the Mazmorras. Although one might imagine that chains or shackles were fastened to them, d’Aranda (1666:59–60) reports a more mundane use for the nails. He describes that pots and hammocks were hung or fastened to walls throughout the

Mazmorras. The three grates on the ceiling, a key element in verifying the veracity of the historical accounts, also support the use of the Mazmorras as a dungeon. I found one grate in situ in the skylight of the northern partition, while the grate from the northern partition has fallen to the ground. These apertures were fundamental to the function of the Mazmorras as a carceral space. They were openings protected by jailors, who regulated the amount of food and human property in and out of the Mazmorras. The integrity of the grated apertures was structurally fundamental to the imprisonment of the Christian captives.

Evidence for interior change within the Mazmorras was also observed. I argue that the room containing the Capilla de Nuestra Señora de los Dolores and the well (Locations 14, 16, 17,

18, and 19) contain an addition to the original plan of the Mazmorras. The first point of evidence for an addition in this area is historical and refers to the well. Historical accounts from Tamayo

Velarde (Galán 1913:18–19), d’Aranda (1666: 59–60), and K hn (1741:172-173) do not mention a well in their accounts of ceiling openings and their use in lowering water down. These primary sources discuss three, not four openings for fresh air and light. In this dark and fowl smelling location, a source of fresh water and air would be unmistakable. I can find no early modern reference to a well or a fourth source of light and fresh air.

The lack of references to a fourth source of light and fresh air is important as the well may be mislabeled. Montalbán provides a function to this structure without proof of its use as a well. The well is nearly the same depth as the Mazmorras, so it is unlikely this structure would

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draw water from the water table. Coincidentally, the medina above uses an extensive subterranean network of water distribution (scoundo) that dates to the 15th century (Rami

2009:48, 54). The historical sources above strongly suggest that neither this well or the scoundo was connected to the Mazmorras in the 16th century. However, this well could have been added as part of the scoundo sometime between K hn’s 1726’s imprisonment and Montalbán’s study in the early twentieth century.

Structurally, this area differs from the rest of the dungeons. The elaborate brickwork on the floor of the Capilla is a stark contrast to the simple and degraded plaster layer found elsewhere in the dungeons. One reason for this structural difference may be from religious modification. Unlike the “high altar,” the Capilla is oriented in an easterly direction. It is possible the Mazmorras were modified to correct an improper orientation in location from the “high altar” and the Capilla was added to provide an appropriately oriented location for worship.

Summary

Despite the hurried character of the salvage archaeological survey and excavations that I conducted inside the Mazmorras, this archaeological work verified the veracity and accuracy of the historical sources, confirmed the presence of sacred space within the Mazmorras, and provided support for the use of the dungeons as a prison during the Early Modern period.

Areas to Display and Areas to Protect

The archaeology conducted inside the Mazmorras in 2013 consisted of a rescue excavation. One of the immediate goals of my archaeological plan was to identify areas of immediate structural concern and decide on areas that could be use for public display and others to protect for future work.

The structural issues of the Mazmorras received priority over all concerns. If they were not addressed, there might not be any Mazmorras left standing to study! I brought structural

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concerns near Test Unit 4 to the attention of Dr. Zouak after completion of the excavation. A crew was hired to erect temporary structural supports (Figure 8-20). The supports rested on the limestone floor and buttressed the ceiling above. I screened the backfill from the erection of these supports. I recovered 26 ceramics and three faunal remains. One terrazzo ceramic and 349 brick fragments were weighed and discarded. One brass cartridge of an unknown caliber was collected and curated. These findings did not add substantial data to that collected during the excavations.

Figure 8-20. Moroccan crew adding structural supports to the central partition of the Mazmorras. Photo by the author.

At least two areas need to be protected for future archaeological work. I strongly recommend that any restorative activities in the Mazmorras do not disturb the soil near Test Unit

2. This site area contains a deep artifactual deposit that was not completely excavated. It may contain important data about the chronological occupation and use of the site. I created a map for

Dr. Zouak and Anas Aktaou so as to convey the importance of the area near TU 2 (Figure 8-21).

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Both agreed of the importance to limit ground disturbance in the area; Anas Aktau suggested that a boardwalk be constructed over this area when the site would be made accessible to the public. I agree that this solution resolves heritage concerns for the area and protects the archaeological integrity for future research.

Figure 8-21. Map of the Mazmorras showing the area to be protected (in red). Map by the author.

The openings in the walls in the eastern end of the Mazmorras near TU2 should be probed to determine if voids are located behind the walls. There are three reasons for this investigation. First, this location is the easterly orientation for the Mazmorras, an area where

Early Modern Catholic sacred space is most likely constructed. Second, Tamayo Velarde’s account suggest altars were located in the “first and last motas” of the Mazmorras. If his account

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is accurate, this would mean an altar should be located in this area. Third, Montalbán encountered a wall enclosing the Capilla. The appearance of brick walls enclosing the eastern end of the Mazmorras raises suspicions that warrant further investigation.

A second area may warrant protection: the Capilla de Nuestra Señora de los Dolores. The depth of soil in the area near the Capilla is very shallow. This soil has helped protecting the brick floor from foot traffic. It is my suggestion that the soil remains in place to protect the floor until boards or an elevated floor can be constructed over the area to protect it.

If urgency does not allow for the complete excavation of the site, I suggest that the A- northern partition of the Mazmorras should be used for public display. All of the decorative sacred spaces are located in this section of the Mazmorras. Ideally, additional excavation units should be placed in the A-northern partition and in the Capilla room to document those more fully before restorative efforts take place.

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CHAPTER 9 DISCUSSION

This dissertation is part of a collaborative heritage management project on a structurally unsound but well-preserved subterranean dungeon associated with Christian slavery in North

Africa, the Mazmorras of Tétouan, Morocco. My research examined this site’s role within small- scale networks of capture and ransom on the edge of a frontier between Iberia and the Maghreb in Early Modern Northern Morocco. My excavations within Tétouan’s Mazmorras combined digital humanities, historical archaeology, and a collaborative approach to work with Moroccan authorities to gain access, digitally preserve, and execute a historically-informed archaeological plan. To assist with archaeological plans, I interrogated primary and secondary sources to discover unresolved questions to investigate for this archaeological study. After excavating the site, I searched several Spanish archives for redemptive accounts to address more unresolved historical questions and to better understand the small-scale networks of redemption from Spain to Tétouan. By corroborating my archaeological findings with historical research, I was able to document the lives of the captives and slaves in the Mazmorras as well as situate the role of

Tétouan on a post-Reconquista Iberio-Maghrebi frontier.

Central to this dissertation was the following question: Are Tetouan’s Mazmorras a dungeon for Christian enslaved captives? I explore this question through the following research goals: 1) document the occupation and use of Tétouan’s Mazmorras; 2) assess the accuracy and veracity of primary source accounts describing the networks of ransom of Christian captives as well as life inside the Mazmorras; 3) contribute to the academic debate on Christian slavery and captivity in North Africa; 4) develop a heritage management plan to preserve the Mazmorras; and 5) form long-lasting relationships with collaborators in Tétouan.

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Document the Occupation and Use of the Mazmorras

The archaeological excavations of the Tétouan’s Mazmorras provide evidence for use and occupation of the site as a Christian prison from the 16th to 18th centuries. Despite the presence of several layers of disturbed material on the floor surface of the Mazmorras, I identified undisturbed contexts below a plaster floor that appears to cover most of or the entire surface of the dungeons. A radiocarbon sample found in one of these lower layers of the archaeological units provide a date supporting use of the dungeons during the 17th century. The ceramic sherds found in the undisturbed contexts suggest that the Christian captives had access to plain, utilitarian vessel ware. Nearly all the sherds were sand-tempered and most were undecorated. The ceramics were likely of local production and would be consistent with the types of pottery made available to slaves and captives by their owners. Unfortunately, the results of these excavations cannot be compared to other similar archaeological sites in North Africa, since this is the first excavation of a mazmorra known to the author.

Verify the Accuracy and Veracity of Primary Source Accounts

One of the goals of this dissertation was to provide historical documentation for

Tétouan’s Mazmorras. Both primary and secondary sources describe the use of the Mazmorras as a place where slaves and captives were held during the 16th and 17th centuries. Some of these accounts were written by former Christian captives who lived in the Mazmorrras themselves.

Their accounts tell us about a difficult life where a large number of slaves lived in cramped quarters in a dark dungeon. The interior conditions were unsanitary. A shared focal point between accounts was the barred openings in the ceilings. These holes brought light, fresh air, and a portent for free space. The emphasis on the openings and the bars prohibiting human passage in the accounts reflects the conditions of the captives’ imprisonment in dark underground dungeons.

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A lack of archaeological and structural evidence for Christian slavery had raised concerns about the accuracy of primary sources. For this study, I compared the descriptions of the interior of the dungeons found in the historical accounts to what I observed during the archaeological excavations of the site. Considerations were made for structural change as well as how dark and stressful interior conditions could have influenced perceptions of light and space of the captives.

This study showed that the structural evidence of the Mazmorras supports several primary source accounts. Measurements of the length, width, and height of the different partitions of the

Mazmorras given in the accounts were roughly similar. The radiocarbon sample also supports the use of the Mazmorras as a prison during the times when the accounts were written: the 17th century.

Contribute to the Debate on Christian Slavery and Captivity in North Africa

This study examines the academic debate for the use of the terms “slave” or “captive” to describe the collective treatment and experience of those Christians who lived in bondage in

North Africa during the Early Modern period. To address this debate, this dissertation presents primary source documents with an emic approach for people held in bondage in Tétouan. This emic approach challenges rigid legalistic and semantic arguments that suggest that the possible expectation of rescue created a difference between “captives” and “slaves.” Indeed, Spanish scribes used both words to describe Christians held in bondage. For example, a 1535 treaty of capitulations between Charles V and the King of Tunis demanded freedom for all the “Christian, men, women and children who are and were held captive, slaves, and servants in and for all the mentioned kingdom.” Additionally, one of the books of redemption transcribed in this dissertation showed additional examples of the interchangeability of the words captive and slave.

The Libros de la Redención de Cautivos de Tetuán, Fez y Marruecos lists the redemption of 106

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Christians. Within this list, 113 were described as esclavos or slaves, and 19 as cautivos or captives.

Legalistic arguments that suggest Spaniards held in bondage in North Africa were captives and not slaves based on an expectation of ransom are far too rigid and do not speak to the collective experience of people held in bondage. While there appears to be a preponderance of the word cautivo in Spanish archival sources, these sources do not speak to the totality of

Spaniards and other European Christians held in bondage in North Africa, because the primary source documents primarily refer to people being ransomed, not those who were left in slavery.

The amount of people ransomed only represented a small proportion of the total number of

Christians held in bondage.

What is unclear in this legalistic argument is how the people held in bondage defined themselves. Christians with origins outside of the borders of modern day Spain and France reaffirm the interchangeable use of slave and captive in their self-description. Emanuel d’Aranda

(1665), a Flemish student who was captured while returning from studies in Madrid, uses both the terms slave and captive in his first-hand account of his time held in bondage in North Africa.

While the term slave appears with a far higher frequency in his text, the interchangeability of the terms can be seen in the document. One example of this interchangeability is in the title, elation de la ca tivit et li ert du Sieur manuel d'Aranda iadis Esclave Alger (d’Aranda 1665). An additional first-hand account of a person from what is now Germany provides additional support for the interchangeability of the terms. Johann Michael K hn (1741) was held captive in

Tétouan’s Mazmorras in the 1720s. K hn uses the term sclaven (slave) hundreds of times in his book and he uses the term nearly exclusively to describe the nature of bondage in North Africa.

In comparison, K hn uses the term gefangene (captive or prisoner) far fewer times.

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It is important to recognize that, while the archival sources do allow people to define themselves, the documents focus on those being rescued. The majority of people who were not rescued are not similarly considered in the archival sources. Since this dissertation’s topic is smaller in scale, given the focus on people held in Tétouan only, I use the terms interchangeably.

In addition, this emic approach for redemptions from Tétouan reflects the lived experiences of both slaves and captives and allows them to define themselves.

Form Long-Lasting Relationships in Tétouan

A clear objective that emerged during the process of my dissertation research was the necessity of forging lasting collaborative relationships with Moroccan authorities and scholars.

The focus on collaboration was not just an ethical concern; it was essential to the realization of a successful heritage management plan. Technology helped foster this collaboration. For instance, during the excavations, I discovered structural issues that threatened the site and the people living in the medina (Old city) above the dungeon. The Moroccan Ministry of Culture erected temporary structural supports as a stop-gap measure.

Limitations and Significance

This study represents the first archaeological excavations—known to the author—of a mazmorra in North Africa. It provided essential data to confirm the veracity and accuracy of historical documents depicting the networks of redemption of captives and slaves during the

Early Modern period as well as accounts written by former captives of Tétouan’s Mazmorras. By documenting Tétouan’s Mazmorras through archaeological and historical research, this study ensured to preserve the site, which is threatened by structural problems and stalled restoration plans.

However, this study is not without limitations. Before I became involved in the heritage management plan of Tétouan’s Mazmorras, archaeological excavations did not form a

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component of the plan. Although I gained access to the site, I only had a few months left to my

Fulbright-funded research trip to Morocco. The urgent nature of the excavations led me to place archaeological units in a few localized sections of the Mazmorras. The excavations were designed to minimize impact from immediate heritage plans—which have not yet taken place three years after the excavations. Additional excavations are necessary to better document the site and its occupation.

This study of Christian captivity and slavery in North Africa is also slanted towards captives. This dissertation relied heavily on primary source documents describing the ransom of thousands of Christians on a span of 169 years. Many of these sources define people by name and offer a brief description of their life conditions. However, the documents emphasized those who were redeemed and returned to their country of origin. It appears certain at this point that the majority of those held in bondage remained slaves. This was likely the case for Tétouan’s

Mazmorras. Therefore, this study is a partial account because it mainly tells the tale of captives rather than slaves.

Future Directions

Additional archaeological excavations appear necessary to continue documenting the occupation and use of Tétouan’s Mazmorras. These excavations may help to provide more information on the lives of those who lived in the dungeons and to create a more balanced perspective of both slaves and captives. It would help document the lives of those who are nearly absent from the historical account: the slaves.

The data collected on subsurface site processes during the 2013 excavations will help inform future plans for this site. Future excavations should occur in two phases. Phase 1 should consist in the excavation of the A-northern and central partitions. These partitions have the least amount of soil, the most disturbance, and the most areas of touristic interest. The second phase

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should focus on a full excavation of the A-southern portion of the mazmorras. This excavation should include the excavation of the deep ceramic horizon identified in Test Unit 2.

Archaeological plans may have to contend with structural concerns that come with the removal of a large amount of soil. Structural concerns need to be observed and managed to maintain the safety of the crew and the city above. Future archaeological plans should also include more detailed ceramic analysis. A zooarchaeologist should also be added to the research team to analyze the animal bones recovered from previous and future excavations.

Because of the threatened nature of the site, I plan to expand the virtual tour that I created of the site. To do this, I will integrate a remastered virtual tour of the Mazmorras with the historical and archaeological discoveries from this study so as to create an interactive virtual tour. First, the current Flash based virtual tour needs to be remade into HTML5, the web platform slowly replacing Flash. The Flash format of the current virtual tour is incompatible with iOS devices, including the iPad touch and iPad. Second, I plan to integrate several archaeological components to the virtual museum. I recorded the partially reconstructed vessels and tobacco pipes using photogrammetric methods in order to to display these artifacts in a three-dimensional virtual environment. Third, primary source narratives can be incorporated in the tour to provide a human context to the site. Fourth, the museum will have multilingual access to reflect the international interest for the site.

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APPENDIX A TRANSCRIPTION OF CODICE 125: SPANIARDS DESCRIBED AS “ESCLAVOS”

1. Diego Pérez Granadilla

Natural del concejo Castro Polo en el Principado de Asturias de Oviedo, de edad veinte y seis años, hijo de Juan López de Granadillas y de Ynés García, de mediano cuerpo. Cautiváronle en el año de mil y seiscientos y quince yendo a la ciudad de Sevilla desde --- de ---- Fue esclavo de Mohamet alcay de Ramadan. Tiene una señal de herida en el carrillo (cheek) izquierdo. Costó su rescate dos mil y quinientos y treinta y tres reales, ayudáronle con quinientos cincuenta reales del Hospital de la Misericordia de Sevilla y con seiscientos y sesenta reales de La Vera Cruz de Sevilla y con mil y trescientos ochenta y ocho reales de la obra pía (pious work) del licenciado Angel de Castro, lo cual, los dos padres redentores pagaron en mi presencia, de que doy fe en doce de junio del dicho año y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan Aguiriano (rúbrica) //23v

2. Gaspar de los Reyes

Natural de Málaga de edad de cuarenta y seis años de mediano cuerpo, pocas barbas mesadas (torn beards) hijo de Juan Dominguez y Ana Ramírez. Cautivo de cerca de Málaga, por el mes de mayo 1617. Fue esclavo en Argel de Rapachi Arráez, renegado. Costó su rescate dos mil y quinientos y noventa y dos reales. Ayudáronle con quinientos y cincuenta reales del Hospital de La Misericordia de Sevilla y con seiscientos y sesenta reales de La Vera Cruz de Sevilla y con mil y trescientos y ochenta y dos reales de la memoria y obra pía (pious work) de Angel de Castro y lo firmaron los dichos padres por haberlos pagado en mi presencia Ante mi Juan Aguiriano (rúbrica) //24v

3. Sebastián Flores Rino Baldés

Natural de la villa de Cáceres de cuarenta y siete años, de pocas barbas con una señal de herida en la 205

frente ----. Hijo de Sebastián Flores y María Sánchez de Sayabedra. Cautiváronle en la compañía de Juan ---- Vázques por agosto de mil y seiscientos y diecisiete. Fue esclavo en Argel de AliHamer, turco. Costó su rescate mil y novecientos reales, ayudósele con novecientos y cincuenta reales del Consejo de Ordenes y con otro tanto de la obra pía del comendador Santo Ybañez comendador de Alcántara, los cuales, los dichos Padres Redentores lo pagaron en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan Aguiriano (rúbrica) //25v

4. El capitán Andrés de Salçedo

Natural de la villa de Salcedo en la montaña, de edad de sesenta años, de mediano cuerpo, hijo de Antonio de Salcedo y de María de Peña. Fue cautivo por el mes de agosto de 1617 de los de la presa de Cartagena. Fue esclavo de Chafaur Montes, turco ----. Costó su rescate tres mil y seiscientos y y cuarenta reales. Ayudósele con dos mil reales de la obra pía del Obispo de Çig ença y con seiscientos cuarenta reales de la obra pía de los señores de Polvoranca y ---- reales de la obra pia de ---- Ybañez ---lo cual se pagó en mi presencia y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) 25v

5. Capitán Sancho de Urdanivia

Natural de Yrún Yranco en la provincia de Guipúzcua, de edad de treinta y cinco años, de mediano cuerpo, barbita, tiene señal de herida en la frente. Hijo de Sancho de Ocaida y de Magdalena de Urdanivia. Cautiváronle viniendo de Las Indias con un navío suyo en el año de---mil y seiscientos quince. Fue esclavo de Soliman Juet,moro. Costó su rescate doce mil y cuatrocientos reales, ayudósele con seiscientos y sesenta reales de La Vera Cruz de Sevilla y con quinientos cincuenta de La Compañía de Jesús y con mil reales de Lope de Mendieta y el resto pagó de su dinero, los cuales, los dichos padres los pagaron en mi presencia, de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi 206

Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //26r

6. Besperssiano Samulo

Residente en Agras de Valencia tierra del condestable de edad de cuarenta y ocho años pocos mas o menos cariflaco, alto, moreno de rostro. Cautiváronle viniendo de Valencia a Barcelona por el año de seiscientos y diecisiete, fue esclavo en Argel de Mostafá Baxa. Costó su rescate mil y cuatrocientos y diez y ocho--- que hacen dos mil y cuatrocientos y cuarenta y cinco reales ayudósele con la limosna del señor condestable con cuatrocientos reales y lo demás pagó de su dinero y lo firmaron y de ello doy fe Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //26v

7. Domingo Sánchez

Natural de Cabarcos en el Reyno de Galicia, de edad de cincuenta y dos años poco más o menos, de buen cuerpo, entrecano con dos lunares junto al ojo izquierdo. Hijo de Julia Sánchez y de Dominga Ramos, cautiváronle yendo de su tierra para Cádiz por mayo de todo este año. Fue esclavo de Ali Pacheli, turco renegado. Costó su rescate mil y trescientos y diez y nueve reales que se pagaron de la limosna de las arcas de la provincia de Andalucía en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //28r

8. Tomás Blanco

Natural de la villa de Bermeo en el Señorío de Vizcaya, hijo de P.Blanco natural de la dicha villa y de Ana de Navas natural de la villa de Pumar en el arzobispado de Burgos, de edad de veinte años, de buen cuerpo. Cautiváronle en la presa de Cartagena por el mes de mayo del año de mil y seiscientos diez y siete. Fue esclavo de Mami Rojo, turco de Argel. Costó su recate tres mil y cuatro cientos y cuarenta y ocho reales que se pagaron los mil reales de la obra pía de Lope de Mendieta y con quinientos reales de la obra pía de--- Ybáñez de Arnani y los mil y novecientos y cuarenta 207

y ocho reales de la obra pía y memoria del señor obispo de Çig enza. Todo lo cual, sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia, de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan Aguiriano (rúbrica) //28v

9. Juan Ruiz de Torrijos

Natural de la villa de --- de tierra de --- de edad de veinte y ocho años, alto, espigado y pecoso --- Hijo de J. Torrijos de ---. Cutiváronle por el mes de abril del año de 1616 yendo desde Alicante a Roma. Fue esclavo de Ali Peheli turco “ginobés” renegado. Costó su rescate dos mil y quinientas doblas que hacen cuatro mil y trescientos y diez reales, los cuales, sus paternidades pagaron lost res mil y trescientos y diez reales de la --- y obra pía del señor condestable de Castilla y los mil reales --- que se ayudó el dicho --- los cuales se pagaron en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan Aguiriano (rúbrica) //28v

10. Pedro Llorente

Natural de la villa de San Asensio, obispado de Calahorra, de edad de veinte y dos años, pequeño de cuerpo, de poca barba, ojos azules. Hijo de Pedro Llorente y de Angela de ---natural de la dicha villa. Cautiváronle por el mes de agosto de mil y seiscientos y diecisiete en la presa de Cartagena. Fue esclavo de Cide Hamuda Ochavarre, turco de Argel. Costó su rescate dos mil y doscientos y cincuenta y seis reales que pagaron los padres Redentores de la obra pía del señor condestable, en mi presencia, de lo que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan Aguiriano (rúbrica) //29r

11. Francisco Martínez

Natural de la villa de Madrid de edad de treinta y seis años, de mediano cuerpo, de cejas grandes, nariz tuerta. hijo de Francisco Martinez y Catalina Pérez. Cautiváronle por agosto del año pasado de 1617en la presa de Cartagena. Fue esclavo de Cit Mahamet, turco. Costó su rescate ochocientos y sesenta y dos reales, los cuales sus paternidades pagaron de la limosna y obra pía del condestable, los que se contaron 208

y entregaron en mi presencia y lo firmaron en este libro Ante mi Juan Aguiriano (rúbrica) //29v

12. Alonso Sánchez

Natural de la villa de Cadahalso de la Orden de Alcántara. Hijo de Juan Sánchez Chicote y de María Hernández de la dicha villa. Cautiváronle a principio de este año yendo de Málaga, por soldado, al presidio del Peñon en una polacra (a type of sailboat) cargada de bizcochos y aceite para el dicho presidio. Fue esclavo de Cara Ali, turco. Costó su rescate mil y quinientos y cincuenta reales. Ayudósele con la misma cantidad de la obra pía del Consejo de Ordenes, los cuales sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan Aguiriano//29v

13. Juan de Urraca

Natural de Molina de Aragón del Obispado de Çig enza, con una nube en el ojo izquierdo, rubio, cariampollado, con una señal de herida sobre la nariz. Hijo de Juan de Urraca y de Catalina Mejía. Cautiváronle en una barca de pesca junto a Barcelona. Fue esclavo en Argel de Ramadanh, hijo de Mohamet, moro en Argel. Costó su rescate mil y doscientos y seis reales. Ayudose él mismo con doscientas doblas y los demás se le ayudó con la limosna del señor Obispo de Çig enza, los cuales pagaron sus paternidades en mi presencia, de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan Aguiriano (rúbrica) 30r

14. Marcos de Torrijos

Natural de la ciudad de Málaga, de edad de veinte y ocho años, de justa estatura y flaco de rostro, dientes de arriba salidos, manco del brazo izquierdo. Hijo de Marcos de Torrijos y de Damiana de Rojas. Cautiváronle junto a Málaga, andando pescando en la mar, por mayo del año pasado de 1617. Fue esclavo de Achi Amançor, moro. 209

Costó su rescate mil y setecientos y veinte y cuatro reales. Ayudose con treinta ducados de la Compañía de Jesús de Sevilla padre Escobar y con cuarenta ducados de los p. de la misericordia de Sevilla y el resto por el arca de Andalucía y lo pagaron en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //30r

15. Francisco Garçía

Natural de Ayamonte, de edad de cincuenta y cinco años, flaco de rostro y Colorado, muy cano, con señal de herida pequeña junto al ojo izquierdo, de mediano cuerpo. Hijo de Salvador García y de Costança Gonçález, difuntos (deceased) --- que fueron de la dicha villa de Ayamonte. Cautiváronle, habrá un año, poco más o menos, en la mar, en un barco que llevaba cargado de sardinas para Sevilla --- Esclavo de Mostafá Arráez. Costó su rescate novecientos y cuarenta y ocho reales. Ayudósele con cuatrocientos y cuarenta reales del hospital de la Misericordia de Sevilla y con cuatrocientos y veinte y dos reales de la obra pía de Gaspar Ruiz de Montoya y lo demás se pagó del arca de Andalucía y lo pagaron en mi presencia de lo que doy fe y firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //31r

16. Antonio Miguel

Natural de Çig enza de edad de cuarenta y ocho años, alto de cuerpo y buen rostro, barba, cortada la oreja izquierda por la parte de arriba. Hijo de Miguel Concejo y de Isabel Concejo vecinos de la dicha Çig enza. Cautiváronle en la mar por Mallorca en el mes de junio de mil seiscientos y tres. Era esclavo de Mostafá, turco. Costó su rescate mil y doscientos y siete reales, los cual pagaron sus paternidades la mitad por la Provincia de Castilla y la otra mitad por la de Andalucía y lo pagaron del arca de cada provincia y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //31r

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17. Juan Fernández

Natural de de Villafranca en el obispado de Avila, vasallo del señor marqués de Las Navas, de mediano cuerpo, menos el dedo índice junto al pulgar de la mano izquierda, de edad de treinta y ocho años. Hijo de Jesús Fenández Bentura. Cautiváronle por el mes de agosto de mil y seiscientos y diecisiete en la presa (dam) de Cartagena, esclavo de Solimán Juer, moro. Costó su rescate mil y quinientos y cincuenta y dos reales, ayudáronle con la limosna del señor Obispo de Çig enza, los cuales pagaron sus paternidades en mi presencia, de que doy fe Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //31v

18. Andrés de Ortega

Natural de la ciudad de Murcia, de edad de veinte años, Moreno, de rostro---, tiene una señal de herida en la parte de izquierda de la cara. Hijo de Pedro de Ortega y de María López de La dicha ciudad. Cautiváronle por el mes de agosto de Mil y seiscientos y diecisiete en la presa de Cartagena. Fue esclavo en Argel de Achi Mohamet, moro de Argel. Costó su rescate mil y ochocientos y noventa y seis reales que se le pagaron los --- ducados de la limosna de La Compañía de Jesús de Sevilla y lo demás se pagó del arca de la provincial de Andalucía y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //31v

19. Manuel de Plus Ultra

Natural de la villa de Carmona en La Andalucía, pequeño de cuerpo, con un beneficio en la cara al lado izquierdo. Hijo de Miguel y de Isabel Fernández, de edad de veinte y dos años, poco más o menos. Cautiváronle en la presa de Cartagena por Agosto del año pasado de mil y seiscientos y diecisiete. Fue esclavo en Argel de Hamudat Vico Cololi. Costó su rescate mil y ciento y quince reales los cuales pagaron sus paternidades y le ayudaron con cuarenta ducados de La Compañía de Jesús de Sevilla y con cuarenta ducados del convento de la Cartuja de Sevilla, y el resto 211

del arca de la provincia de La Andalucía y lo firmaron ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //32r

20. Juan Sánchez

Hijo de Francisco Sánchez y de Francisca Pérez, sus padres difuntos, naturales de ---, pequeño de cuerpo, delgado de rostro barbinegro, de edad de veinte y ocho años. Cautiváronle el año pasado de mil y seiscientos y siete sobre Cartagena con la infantería Española. Esclavo de Mamed, moro de España. Costó mil y ciento y quince reales. Ayudósele con la limosna del señor Obispo de Çig enza y lo firmaron ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //32r

21. Hernando de Ortega

Natural de San Sebastián en la provincial de Guipuzcua, de edad de setenta años, de mediano cuerpo, ojos hundidos, señal entre cejas. Hijo de Hernán Sánchez y de Margarita Duarte, Fue soldado de la costa de Almería. Cautiváronle en tierra junto a Almería por septiembre de 1614? Fue esclavo en Argel de Mostafá, agá, turco. Costó su rescate cuatrocientas doblas de Argel, y le ayudaron con el dicho dinero de la --- y obra pía de Lope de Mendieta, y lo pagaron en mi presencia, de que doy fe Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //32v

22. El padre fray Miguel Pantali

Natural de Mallorca, de edad de veinte y seis años, buen cuerpo, señal de herida encima de la ceja izquierda. Hijo de Juan Pantali y Juana Pantalina. Esclavo de Yusef Boluco baji Cautivo pasando de Mallorca a Ibiza por el mes de junio de mil y seiscientos y catorce. Costó su rescate tres mil y novecientos y treinta y dos reales, los cuales se pagaron por mitad, provincia de Andalucía y Castilla y adjudicó el padre maestro Castilla por el Andalucía seiscientos treinta reales de La Vera Cruz de Sevilla y trescientos 212

y diez y ocho de la Misericordia de Sevilla y el resto del arca de La Andalucía y por la provincia de Castilla novecientos y diez y seis reales de la limosna de la memoria y obra pía del señor condestable de Castilla y mil reales de la limosna del Consejo de Ordenes, y sus paternidades lo firmaron ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //32v

23. Pedro Pérez del Perero

Natural del valle de--- en La Merindad de --- del arzobispado de Burgos, de edad de veinte años, mozo rehecho (of medium height and strong) abultado de rostro (bulky face) ojos verdes, desbarbado, mediano de cuerpo. Cautivaronle en la presa de Cartagena por el mes de agosto de mil y seiscientos y diez y siete. Esclavo de Acid Amete Costó su rescate mil y doscientos y cuarenta y ocho reales. Ayudósele con seiscientos y veinte y cuatro reales de la limosna y obra pía de Lopez de Mendieta y otra tanta cantidad de la limosna y obra pía del señor condestable. Lo que se pagó en mi presencia y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //33r

24. Francisco Roldán

Natural de la villa de Moguer en el condado de Huelva, de pequeño cuerpo, lampiño (hairless) de rostro colorado, con una señal de herida en la frente a la parte izquierda. Hijo de Francisco Ruiz y doña Catalina Roldán vecinos de la dicha villa. Cautiváronle viniendo de las --- víspera de--- Catalina, el año de 1617 sobre el cabo de Santa María. Fue esclavo en Argel de Solimán Arráez, turco de --- Costó su rescate seis mil y cuarenta y dos reales que pagaron en mi presencia, ayudósele con cincuenta ducados de la Misericordia de Sevilla y lo demás pagó de su dinero, y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //33v

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25. Juan de Bermejo

Natural de Málaga, pequeño de cuerpo, cojo estropeado que anda con una muleta, delgado de rostro, de edad de cuarenta años. Hijo de Juan Bermejo y de Ana García. Cautiváronle por el … de 1616 años yendo de pasaje en un un barco mastelero para Sevilla sobre la costa del Reyno de Granada. Ayudósele con cincuenta ducados de la Misericordia de Jesús y lo demás por la caja de la provincia de la Andalucía y costó su rescate ochocientos y sesenta y dos reales y lo firmaron. Era esclavo de Yosef pagador del … Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //33v

26. Justo Franco

Natural de la villa de Alcalá de Henares, de treinta y ocho años y buen cuerpo, rostro flaco. Hijo de Francisco Franco cautiváronle en la presa de Cartagena por el mes de agosto de 1617. Era esclavo de Mahamete Boluco Baji, costó su rescate dos mil y setenta y nueve realesque se pagaron de la limosna y obra pía del Obispo de Çig enza y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //34r

27. Juan Domínguez

Natural de la villa de Aznalcazar del arzobispado de Sevilla, alto de cuerpo, buen rostro, hijo de Juan Monte y de Leonor Alonso. Cautiváronle por octubre del año pasado de seiscientos y diez y seis viniendo de las Indias en compañía del capitán Sancho de Ordanivia, junto al cabo de San Vicente. Era esclavo de Ademí Aymon moro de Argel. Costó su rescate mil y ochocientos y diez y seis Rls, ayudósele con sesenta ducados de la Vera Cruz de Sevilla y con cincuenta ducados? de la Misericordia de Sevilla y el resto por el arca de la Andalucía lo cual sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia, de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) 34r

214

28. Ynés Sánchez

Natural de Cabarcos en el Reyno De Galicia, de edad de diez y seis años, poco más o menos, rubia de rostro. Cautiváronla por mayo de este presente año, yendo en compañía de su padre. Fue esclava en Argel de Ci Budin, moro de Tunez. Costó su rescate setecientos y setenta doblas. Ayudósele con cincuenta ducados de la obra pía del licenciado Cervantes y --- de la limosna de La Andalucia, los cuales se pagaron en mi presencia, de lo que doy fe Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //34v

29. Francisco de Artelecu

Natural de Fuenterrabía en la provincia de Guipuzcoa, Hijo de Ramón de Artelecu y de Catalina Ibañez, de edad de diecinueve años, de buen cuerpo, barbilampiño, señal de herida encima de la ceja izquierda, lunar en el carrillo izquierdo, cautivo en la presa de Cartagena por el mes de agosto de mil y seiscientos y diez y siete, fue esclavo en Argel de Cit Mahamei, jarife, costó su rescate mil y ochocientas doblas que hacen tres mil y ochenta y nueve Rls, los cuales sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia en esta manera, dos mil y ochocientos Rls el padre maestro fray Andrés de Mancera por la provincia de Castilla, de la obra pía de Lope de Mendieta y los doscientos y noventa y ocho Rls restantes pagó el padre maestro fray Pedro del Castillo por la provincial de la Andalucía, de la limosna del arca de la dicha provincial y fue todo pagado en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //35r

30. Juan Méndez

Natural de Ayamonte, de sesenta años, de buen cuerpo, sien entrecana, nariz chata con señal de herida en la frente al lado del ---Hijo de Manuel Gómez y Catalina Morera. Cautiváronle por julio de 1617 en la mar, yendo de Ayamonte a ---. Fue esclavo en Argel de Babair Suf, moro. Costó su rescate mil y cuarenta y seis reales de España y lo pagaron 215

sus paternidades y le ayudaron con cuarenta ducados del Hospital de la Misericordia de Sevilla y el resto de la obra pía de A. de Castro y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //35v

31. Gaspar de los Reyes

Natural de la ciudad de Sevilla, rehecho, abultado de rostro, de buen cuerpo, barbinegro con una señal de herida en la mollera junto a la frente ---Hijo de Jaime Fernández y de Catalina Rodriguez vecinos de la dicha ciudad, de edad de treinta y seis años. Cautivo por enero de este presente año en la mar, saliendo por la barra de San Lucar para las Indias de Canarias. Fue esclavo de Hamet Aráez, turco de Argel. Costó su rescate tres mil y noventa y ocho reales. Ayudósele con sesenta ducados de la limosna de la Cartuja de Sevilla y con cuarenta ducados del Hospital de la Misericordia y con ciento ochenta y cinco reales del patronato de Andrés de la Barrera y lo demás se pagó de la limosna del arca de La Andalucía en mi presencia, de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //36r

32. Luis Méndez

Natural de Coria jurisdición de la ciudad de Sevilla, de buen cuerpo, barbiponiente, abultado de rostro descolorido con lunares por el rostro, de edad de veine y siete. Hijo de Antonio Méndez y de Maria González. Cautiváronle en el mes de enero de este año en el navío de Francisco de Avila que iba a las islas de Canaria. Era esclavo de Mosuer Aráez. Costó su rescate mil y trescientos y ochenta reales. Pagáronlo sus Paternidades los sesenta ducados de la limosna de la Vera Cruz de Sevilla y los cincuenta del Hospital de La Misericordia y el resto se pagó de la limosna del arca de La Andalucía. Pagáronlo en mi presencia, de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //36v

216

33.Juan Jinobarte

Natural de la isla de Mallorca, alto, de cuerpo delgado derecho, entrecano, ojos azules, de edad de cincuenta años. Hijo de Juan Pino Barres. Cautiváronle por el mes de mayo de 1610 yendo de Cerdeña para Mallorca en un navío con trigo. Fue esclavo en Argel de Brayn Boluco Baji, turco. Costó su rescate ochocientos y sesenta y dos reales que se pagaron los trescientos y treinta de la limosna de la Cartuja de Sevilla y lo demás por el arca de la Andalucía y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //37r

34. Juan Ruiz Calbo

Natural de la villa de Torrecilla Extremadura de la Orden de Alcántara de la encomienda de San Ibañez de la dicha Orden. Fue esclavo de Un Maçul, aga turco, de edad de cuarenta y dos años. Hijo de Miguel—Cautiváronle por el mes de noviembre de --- andando pescando en la mar. Costó su rescate mil doblas de Argel que se pagaron de la limosna la obra pia que fundó fray Luis de Villaseca comendador de San Ibáñez. Era esclavo en Argel del dicho y los pagaron en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //37r

35. Juan de Azcárate

Natural de la ciudad de Palencia, mediano cuerpo, carirrosado, barbicastaño,ojos tiernos llorosos, nariz tuerca y afilada de treinta años. Cautiváronle por enero de 1613 yendo de Orán para Cartagena en una---. Fue esclavo de Açan portugués, Maçul, aga turco renegado. Costó su rescate mil y trescientos y ochenta reales. Ayudósele con seiscientos y noventa reales de la limosna del señor condestable y con otro tanto de la limosna del señor Obispo de Çig enza y se pagó en mi presencia y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //37v

217

36. Juan de Mondragón

Natural de la ciudad de Bilbao en la provincia de Guipuzcoa, de mediano cuerpo, flaco, barbinegro, frente grande nariz, de edad de cuarenta y cinco años. Hijo de Rodrigo de Mondragón. Cautiváronle por febrero de 617 en la mar andando pescando en un barco. Costó su rescate ochocientos y sesenta y dos reales. Ayudósele con la misma cantidad de la obra pía de Lope de Mendieta. Los cuales sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia y lo firmaron. Fue esclavo de Ali Bene Yusef, turco. Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //37v

37. Ana Carrilla de Albornoz

Natural de Tenerife en La Canaria, de edad de veinte y siete años, flaca de rostro, delagada, un lunar junto al ojo izquierdo. Hija de Marcos carrilla. Cautiváronla por --- por junio pasado yendo de --- para Canaria. Fue esclava en Argel de Mahamet, turco. Costó su rescate mil doblas, ayudósele con treinta Doblas de La compañía de Jesus de Sevilla y con cuarenta doblas de la Misericordia, los cuales sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //38r

38. Juan Reberte

Natural de Málaga, de buen cuerpo y rostro, ojos grandes algo encanecidos, de edad de treinta y cuatro años. Hijo de P. Perito y Beatriz García. Cautiváronle por el mes de octubre yendo de Cartagena a Málaga en una --- francesa. Fue esclavo de Afarico, corso turco renegado. Costó su rescate tres mil y doscientos y ochenta y cuatro reales, ayudándole con cincuenta ducados de la limosna del hospital de la Misericordia y con cincuenta ducados de la Compañía de Jesus padre Escobar y con doscientos y sesenta y cuatro reales de la cartuja de Sevilla y el resto pagó de su dinero, lo cual se pagó en mi presencia, de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //38v 218

39. Juan de Tabera Montoya

Natural de la villa de Aro en el obispado de Calahorra, de buen cuerpo, Delgado, de rostro lampiño Moreno, nariz afilada, ojos pardos --- cautivo viniendo de Sicilia para España en compañía del hijo del señor marqués de Villena por diciembre del año pasado de 1617, digo de 1608. Fue esclavo de Chafarico, corso turco. Costó su rescate tres mil y seiscientos y veinte reales que se pagaron y le ayudaron con la dicha cantidad de la limosna y obra pía del señor --- de Castilla. Los cuales se pagaron en mi presencia y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //38v

40. Cosme de Collado

Natural de la villa de Ribadesella del Principado de Asturias, pequeño de cuerpo, rostro grande. Cautiváronle por diciembre de 1617 junto al cabo de Finibus Terrae (Finisterre). Fue esclavo de Ali Maçul, aga. Costó su rescate seis mil y cuatro reales que sus paternidades pagaron de la limosna y obra pía de Martín Ybañez de Arnani en mi presencia, de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //39r

41.Lucas Gonçález

Natural de la ciudad de Córdoba, buen cuerpo, amulatado, de diez y ocho años. Hijo de P. González. Cautiváronle por septiembre de 1610? en el barco que se derrotó de la armada--- Fue esclavo de Serafoxa, escribano mayor del duan. Costó su rescate mil doblas de oro que hacen mil y setecientos y veinte y cuatro reales. Ayudósele con cincuenta ducados de la cartuja de Sevilla y con cincuenta ducados de la Compañía de Jesus de Sevilla y cincuenta ducados de la Misericordia de Sevilla y el resto por el arca de La Andalucía, lo cual sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia de que doy fe Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //39r

219

42. Ana del Castillo

Natural de la ciudad de Sevilla, pequeña de cuerpo, De cincuenta y cuatro años. Cautiváronla por enero del año pasado yendo de Sevilla para Canaria. Fue esclava de Morato, turco de Argel. Costó su rescate ochocientos y sesenta y dos reales que se pagaron los sesenta ducados por cuenta de La Vera Cruz de Sevilla y el resto por el arca de La Andalucía, lo cual pagaron sus paternidades en mi presencia de que doy fe Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //39v

43. Juan de Balverde

Natural de Ayamonte, buen cuerpo, de treinta años, cautiváronle por el mes de Agosto de 612 junto al cabo de Santamaría. Costó su rescate mil y setecientos y veinte y cuatro Rls que sus Paternidades pagaron los seiscientos sesenta por cuenta de la Veracruz de Sevilla y sesenta por la Misericordia de Sevillay doscientos y setenta y cinco Rls por cuenta de la Cofradía de los Nazarenos y el resto por el arca de la Andalucía. Pagáronse en mi presencia de que doy fe. Fue esclavo de Amei Dabaji, turco Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //39v

44. Juan Bázquez de Mondoñedo

Natural de la misma ciudad de Mondoñedo, alto de cuerpo, nariz aguileña, barbiponiente, cejijunto, lunar por debajo de la oreja izquierda que cae al pescuezo, lampiño --- Hijo de P. Arrás y de Isabel Vázquez. Cautiváronle por junio de 1615 yendo de su tierra para --- en un navío cargado de madera, en la mar junto al Cabo de San Vicente. Era esclavo de Achi Mostafa, turco. Costó su rescate dos mil y quinientos y ochenta y seis reales. Ayudósele con cuatrocientos reales del Hospital de la Misericordia de Sevilla y sesenta ducados de La Vera Cruz de Sevilla y veinte ducados de la obra pía de Andrés de la Barra y lo demás se pagó del arca de La Andalucía y lo firmaron Ante mi 220

Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //40r

45. Rafael Forner

Natural de Binaroz, de buen cuerpo y rostro, ojos azules, frente grande, con algunas canas en la cabeza. De edad de treinta años, hijo de José Forner y de Isabel Vidal, vecinos del dicho Binaroz en el Reyno de Valencia. Cautivo por junio de seiscientos y dieciséis. Costó su rescate dos mil y quinientos reales castellanos. Ayudose de su dinero con mil y novecientos y veinte reales y con quinientos y ochenta restantes se le ayudó del dinero de la obra pía de Lope de Mendieta, los cuales se pagaron en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron. Era esclavo de Muira, español. //40r

46. Bartolomé de Nabarrete

Natural de Valencia, de mediano cuerpo, abultado de rostro, ojos azules, encarnados y llorosos muy --- un poco Rosado, de edad de cincuenta y seis años. Hijo de Marco Gracian y de Catalina de Navarrete. Cautiváronle por el mes de agosto del año pasado de 1616 yendo de Cadiz para la Mamora (the actual Moroccan city of Mehdía). Fue esclavo en Argel del alcaide Ytecef”. Costó su rescate quinientas doblas de Argel. Ayudáronle con treinta ducados de La Compañía de Jesus padre Escobar y veinte ducados de la cartuja y trescientos y doce reales de La Misericordia de Sevilla, lo cual se pagó en mi presencia, de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //40v

47. Damián Francisco

Natural de la isla de La Madera. De buen cuerpo, delgado, barbinegro. Hijo de Francisco González. Cautiváronle yendo desde la dicha isla de La Madera a Lisboa. por---fue esclavo en Argel de Ali Boluco Baji, turco. Costó su rescate dos mil y ciento cincuenta reales que se pagaron los seiscientos y cincuenta reales del arca de La Andalucía y el resto se ayudó con su dinero el dicho______Ante mi 221

Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //42r

48. Juan García Fuentes

Natural de la villa de Gibraltar del arzobispado de Sevilla, mediano de cuerpo, cariflaco. Hijo de Benito González, de edad de treinta y cuatro años. Cautiváronle junto al cabo de Espichel viniendo de Lisboa para Sevilla por octubre de 1617. Era esclavo en Argel de Muça, moro andaluz. Costó su rescate mil y setecientos y veinte y cuatro reales. Ayudósele con cincuenta ducados de la limosna del --- Agustín de Castro y con cincuenta ducados de la Compañía de Jesus y lo demás por el arca de La Andalucía, lo cual se pagó en mi presencia y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //42r

49. Don Luis Chirinos

Natural de la ciudad de Cuenca. Hijo de don Luis Chirinos de--- y de doña Agustina de Chinchilla, barbipomente, una nube en el ojo derecho, de diez y ocho años. Cautivo en la presa de Cartagena poragosto de 16— Era esclavo de Serafoja, escribano mayor del duan. Costó su rescate ocho mil reales castellanos. Ayudose con cuatro mil reales de la obra pía de Lope de Mendieta, y cuatro mil reales de la obra pía del Obispo de Çig enza. Lo que se pagó en mi presencia, de que doy fe y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //42v

50. Domingo Hernández

Natural de la ciudad de Sevilla, en Triana , de mediana estatura, carirredondo. Hijo de Juan Fernández. Cautiváronle por el año pasado de 1617 junto al Cabo de Espichel, juntoa la barra de Lisboa. Era esclavo de Hamet Boluco Baji, turco Costó su rescate mil y setecientos y veinte y cuatro reales. Ayudósele con sesenta ducados de la obra pía de La Vera Cruz de Sevilla y con cincuenta ducados de La Misericordia de Sevilla y el resto de La Cartuja de Sevilla. Pagose en mi presencia de que doy fe Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //43r

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51. Bartolomé Fanales

Natural de la isla de Mallorca, de buen cuerpo, de treinta y cinco años. Hijo de Damián Fanales. Cautiváronle por junio de 1611 yendo de Málaga a su tierra. Era esclavo de Ali Pecheli renegado “jinobés”. Costó su rescate dos mil y cuatrocientos y catorce reales que pagaron sus paternidades los quinientos diez y seis reales de la limosna del arca de La Andalucía y el resto pagó de su dinero y de lo que doy fe y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //43r

52. Juan Bernal

Natural de Cádiz, espigado, delgado de edad de veinte y cinco años. Cautivo por enero de este presente año yendo de Tanger para Cadiz en el estrecho. Era esclavo en Argel de Hamut Boluco Baji, turco. Costó su rescate mil y cuatrocientos y sesenta y cuatro reales que pagaron sus paternidades de la limosna y obra pia de la señora duquesa Fras, de que doy fe. Juan Aguiriano (rúbrica) //43v

53. Pedro Hernández

Natural de Baeza, de mediano cuerpo de cincuenta años. Hijo de Pedro Hernández. Cautivo por diciembre de este año, estando en tierra de Almeria junto a Roda. Era esclavo de Hachi Mami, moro. Costó su rescate mil doscientos y ocho reales, los cuales sus paternidades pagaron del arca de La Andalucía en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //44r

54. Nicolás Garberin

Natural del Puerto De Santa María de buen cuerpo, de veinte y seis años. Hijo de Pedro Benito y deMaría Gómez. Cautivo por septiembre de 1617, viniendo de Las Indias. Era esclavo de Ali Boluco Baji, turco. Costó su rescate dos mil y sesenta y nueve reales que sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia, los sesenta ducados de La Misericordia de Sevilla y con cincuenta ducados de la Compañía de Jesus de Sevilla y con sesenta ducados de La Vera Cruz de Sevilla y el resto por la obra pia de Angel de Castro de que doy fe y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //44r 223

55. Gabriel Galindo

Natural de Valencia, de treinta años. Hijo de Juan Galindo y de Isabel de Acosta. Cautiváronle yendo de Alicante a Roma por mayo de 1616. Fue esclavo de Ali Pechili. Costó su rescate tres mil y setecientos noventa y tres reales. Ayudáronle con quinientos reales de la obra pia de Gaspar Ruiz de Montoya y con quinientos y veinte y cuatro del arca de La Andalucia. Pagáronse en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo demás a cumplimiento de la dicha cantidad lo pagó el dicho (cautivo) de su dinero y los dichos padres redentores, lo firmaron Juan Aguiriano (rúbrica) //44v

56. Juan del Poyo

Natural de Calahorra, de diez y ocho años. Cautiváronle en la presa de Cartagena por Agosto de 1617. Fue esclavo de Hamai Boluco Baji, turco de Argel. Costó su rescate mil y cuatrocientos y sesenta y cinco reales que se pagaron de la limosna del señor obisdo de Çig enza en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //44v

57. Doña Ana Cabil

Natural de Jerez de la Frontera, de edad de treinta años, de buen cuepo, lunar un poco grande, encima de la nariz al lado derecho. Cautiva en el ingenio de --- por septiembre de 1617 Fue esclava en Argel de Hamai Benamar, moro español. Costó su recate con una niña, digo, un niño de un año llamado Juan, hijo de la dicha y de Juan de Cambil, su marido, mil y novecientos y dieciocho reales que se pagaron los mil reales de la obra pia del señor de Getable y el resto se pagó por cuenta de la obra pia del señor Obispo de Çig enza. Pagáronlo en mi presencia de que doy fe Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //45r

58. Francisco Rodríguez

Natural de el Castillo de Locubín, de buen cuerpo, rostro abultado y colorado. Cautiváronle por septiembre de seiscientos y doce en Motril junto a la marina. 224

Era esclavo de Mahamet Aráez. Costó su rescate dos mil y sesenta y nueve reales, los quinientos y cincuenta del patronazgo de Gaspar Ruiz de Montoya, y cuatro cientos y ochenta y cinco reales del patronazgo del licenciadoAngel de Castro y lo demás restante, que el mismo pagó de su dinero en mi presencia de que doy fe Juan Aguiriano (rúbrica) //45v

59. Francisco Rodríguez

Natural de Vigo en el arzobispado de Santiago, de edad de sesenta años, abultado de rostro, tuerto del ojo izquierdo. Cautiváronle andando pescando por mayo de este presente año. Fue esclavo de Acayn Bajá, Rey de Argel que lo entregó a cuenta de los que se le han de recibir. Pagáronle por él mil y treinta y cuatro reales de la obra pia de la señora duquesa de Frias y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //46r

60. Domingo Pérez

Natural del lugar del Grove en el arzobispado de Galicia, de edad de sesenta años de buen cuerpo. Cautivo andando pescando por el mes de mayo de este año. Era esclavo de Acayn Bajá, Rey de Argel que lo entregó a cuenta de su obligación. Costó seiscientas doblas que se pagaron de la obra pia de la señora duquesa de Frias de que doy fe y lo firmaron Juan Aguiriano. Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //46r

61. Francisco Ribero . Natural de Cangas en Galicia. de setenta años, de pequeño cuerpo, ojos hundidos azules. Cautivaronle andando pescando por mayo de este año. Era esclavo de Acayn Bajá. Costó su rescate seis doblas de la obra pía de Lope de Mendieta. Pagáronle en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //46v

62. Domingo de Azís

Natural de Cambados, de cincuenta años y pequeño cuerpo. Fue cautivo por el mes de agosto, digo mayo de este presente año. Fue esclavo 225

del Rey de Argel, y se le recibió por cuenta de su obligación. Pagarónsele seiscientas doblas, moneda de Argel, de la obra pía del Señor Obispo de Çigüenza, en mi presencia, por lo que doy fe. Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //46v

63. D. Andrés Patón

Natural de la villa de Cambados del dicho arzobispado de Galicia. Pequeño cuerpo, pocas carnes, cariacaponado, de edad de cuarenta y cinco años. Hijo de Francisco Paton. Cautiváronle junto a la isla de Bayona por el mes de mayo de dicho año. Era esclavo del dicho Acayn Bajá. Rescibiéronlo por cuenta de su obligación con trescientas doblas. Doy fe. Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //47r

64. Domingo de Santos

Natural de la villa de Cambados. Buen cuerpo, barbicano, de edad de sesenta años. Cautiváronle en la mar andando pescando por mayo de este año. Era esclavo de Acain Bajá quien lo entregó porque era su obligación Pagáronle seiscientas doblas de la limosna y obra pía del señor obispo de Çigüenza, de que doy fe y lo firmaron. Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //47r

65. Bartolomé Perez.

Natural de la villa de Cambados de cincuenta años. Cautiváronle por el mes de mayo de este año. Fue esclavo del Rey de Argel que lo entregó por su obligación. Pagaron por él seiscientas doblas y que doy fe de la limosna del Señor obispo de Çigüenza . Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //47v

66. Gregorio Alvarez.

Natural de la villa de Vigo en Galicia, de sesenta y cinco años, de mediano cuerpo, cara abultada. Cautivo andando pescando por mayo de este año. Era esclavo del dicho Acayn Bajá Rey de Argel. Recibiósele por su obligación. Pagosele la dicha cantidad de la limosna y obra pía de---.la duquesa de Frias Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //47v

226

67. Diego Pérez

Natural de Bayona en el arzobispado de Santiago. Mediano cuerpo, barbicastaño, de edad de cincuenta y cinco años. Cautivo andando pescando junto a Bayona por el mes de mayo de este año. Era esclavo de Acain Bajá Rey de Argel. Entregolo por cuenta de su obligación y se le pagó por él seiscientas doblas de la obra pía del Señor obispo de Çigüenza en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //48r

Más esclavos recibidos por Haden de el duan. Por tenerse obligación a las personas que las entregaron a recibírselas de conforme a la costumbre antigua. Son los siguientes

68. Sebastián de Prol

Natural del Grove del Reyno de Galicia junto a Pontevedra. Abultado de rostro, de edad de---años. Por el mes de mayo de este año andando pescando junto a las islas de Bayona. Fue esclavo del agá del puerto de esta ciudad que lo entregó por cuenta de la obligación de su--- Pagáronsele seiscientas doblas de que doy fe . Pagáronse del arca de la Andalucía. Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //48v

69. Aldonza de Lemu[za]

Natural de Nega junto a Cangas en Galicia, de edad de sesenta años - Cautiva en tierra junto a las islas de Bayona por mayo de este año. Era esclava del alamí del puerto que se le recibió por su obligación. Pagáronsele seiscientas doblas de oro por concierto conforme a los demás de la obra pía del Señor obispo de Çigüenza de lo que doy fe Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //48v

70. Pedro Forné

Natural de Vinaroz del Reyno de Galicia. De edad de sesenta años. Hijo de Vicente Forner. Cautiváronle por marzo de este año con una goleta cargada de Sagunto a Valencia. Era esclavo del alcaide y alamín del puerto que entregó por su obligación y 227

se lo pagó por su obligación seiscientas doblas que se pagaron por cuenta del arca de la Andalucía de que doy fe y firmaron y pagose del dinero que para este hecho tomó a cambio --- maestro fray Pedro del Castillo en Argel Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //49r

71. Alonso Bidal

Natural de Cangas en Galicia, de edad de setenta años, alto. enjuto, barbicano, desdentado, ojos hundidos. Cautiváronle por noviembre de 616 en la villa de Cangas. Era esclavo del agá de los jenízaros. Por su obligación, y se le pagó por su precio seis doblas de oro de Argel que hacen reales castellanos mil y treinta y cuatro reales pagados al padre maestro Castillo por cuenta de la provincia de La Andalucía en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //49r

72. Juan Martínez Molinero.

Natural de la villa de Cangas del arzobispadp de Galicia, de edad de setenta años, pequeño, delgado, seco. Cautivo en el asalto de Cangas por diciembre del año pasado. Fue esclavo del cadí, justicia mayor de Argel. Entregolo por su obligación. Pagáronsele por él seiscientos doblas de oro de que doy fe, de la limosna del arca de La Andalucia, doy fe y lo firmaron. Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //49v

73. Juan Baptista Saboyano.

Natural de Niza del ducado de Saboya, de mediano cuerpo, delgado, lampiño, de edad de sesenta y cinco años. Hijo de Valentín Soto, cautivo por junio ...... en la mar Mediterránea. Era esclavo de Adil Serafoxa escribano mayor del duan y de los otros jenízaros. Entregolo forzoso, costó mil y treinta y cuatro reales que se pagaron de la limosna de el arca de Castilla, de que doy fe y lo firmaron. Juan de Arguiriano (rúbrica) //49v

74. Costança Gonçález

Natural de Cangas, de buen cuerpo, morena, de sesenta y cuatro años. Cautiváronla por 228

diciembre de seiscientos y diez y siete. Era esclava del Mofti, uno de las justicias mayores, el cual la entregó a la redención y se lo pagaron seis--- doblas en mi presencia de la obra pia del Señor Obispo de Çigüenza de quien doy fe. Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //50r

75. Jacome de Refols

Natural de Cangas en Galicia, de edad de treinta años, cautivo en el asalto de Bayona por--- Era esclavo de los chaves del duan, que lo entregaron por su obligación, pagóseles por él, seis doblas de la obra pía del Señor obispo de Çigüenza de que doy fe. Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //50r

Al margen: murió en 17 de agosto de 1618

76. Juan Marín

Natural de Alicante en el Reyno de Valencia, de edad de sesenta años, bajo de cuerpo, techo con una herida en la frente, cariflaco, cano. Cautiváronle en la mar una legua de Alicante por marzo de este presente año. Fue esclavo de los ajioldas del duán. Costó su rescate seiscientas doblas que se pagaron a los dichos ajioldas que lo entregaron por su obligación en mi presencia, de que doy fe y lo firmaron. Pagose por cuenta de la arca de la provincia de Castilla. Juan de Aguirriano (rúbrica) //51r

77. María Albarez

Natural de Cangas en Galicia de edad de setenta años cautiva por diciembre de seiscientos y diez y siete en el asalto del dicho Cangas. Fue esclava del trujamán del duan que la entregó por su obligación y se le pagaron seiscientas doblas de la obra pia de Lope de Mendieta en su presencia de que doy fe Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //51v

78. Domingo Aznar

Natural de Valencia de mediano cuerpo, cariredondo y barbinegro de cincuenta y dos 229

años. Cautivo andando pescando por marzo de este año. Era esclavo de Acayn Arráez de este Puerto de la ciudad. Recibiósele porque era de su obligación y pagósele por él mil y treinta y cuatro reales de la limosna del arca de Castilla de que doy fe Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //51v

79. Diego García de Ybargen

Natural de Yniesta jurisdicción de San Clemente, de buen cuerpo, de veinte y seis años, hijo de Diego García y Lucía del Castillo. Cautivo por agosto de 617 en la presa de Cartagena. Era esclavo de Chafar aga nuevo que entró a serlo en catorce de este presente mes de junio. Costó su rescate provincia de concierto y fuerza dos mil y sesenta y nueve reales que se pagaron mil y treinta y cuatro de la obra pía de Lope de Mendieta y el resto por el arca de Castilla Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica)//52v

80. Diego de Camino

Natural de la villa de Laredo arçobispado de Burgos, hijo de Juan Sáez de Camino y de María Gutiérrez Camino, de veinte años, alto de cuerpo, pecoso de rostro, cautivo saliendo de Sanlúcar para Canarias por enero de este año. Fue esclavo de Ali Pechili. Costó su rescate doce mil doblas que pagaron sus paternidades, los dos mil y seiscientos por el arca de la Andalucía y el resto pagó el dicho de su dinero en mi presencia de que doy fe Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //52v

81. Andrés de Berrio

Natural de Muroi, hijo de Ramiro Martínez de Berrio y de Melchora de Pedrosa, de veinte años, barbiponiente, pequeño de cuerpo, cautivo en la presa de Cartagena por el mes de agosto del año pasado. Era esclavo de Ali Ruiz, moro andaluz. Costó su recate tres mil y doscientos Rls los cuales se pagaron por cuenta de la Andalucía en mi presencia, de que doy fe; y este dinero fue del que tomó a cambio el padre maestro fray Pedro del Castillo en Argel.

230

Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //53r

82- 87.

El capitán Pedro Ruiz de Avendaño Natural de Alcalá la Real, de edad de cincuenta años El capitán Pedro Ruiz de Ballesteros, natural de Agüera en la Montaña, de cinquenta años. Francisco de Almaraz, natural de Salamanca, de treinta y siete años. Cristóbal de Flores, natural de Madrid, de cinquenta años. Gregorio de Alvarado, natural de Pontevedra en Galicia, de treinta años. Nicolás de Cárdenas, natural de Sevilla, de diez y seis años. Todos seis cautivaron saliendo de la Mamora con la armada real en un barco por el mes de diciembre de seiscientos y catorce años. Costó su rescate de todos seis, veinte y cinco mil y quinientos y setenta reales. Ayudóseles con doce mil y cuatrocientos y ochenta y quatro reales, la mitad por la provincia de Castilla y la otra mitad por la provincia del Andalucía, y con los demás //53r al cumplimiento se ayudaron de su dinero por cierto concierto y conveniencia hecha entre los susodichos, con declaración que tres mil y seiscientos reales que están en Cádiz en poder de Juan López Malavad se han de dar a los dichos padres redentores por haberlos tomado atributos por falta de dinero en su nombre de los susodichos, para que se quite el dicho tributo. Todo lo qual pasó en mi presencia y se pagó a Alí Baja Cololi, de quien eran esclavos; y de ello doy fe y lo firmaron de sus nombres. Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //53v

En veinte y seis de julio de dicho año recibieron sus paternidades los demás esclavos del Rey a cumplimiento a los veinte de su obligación de dicho precio de mil y treinta y cuatro Rls. Son los siguientes.

88. Juan Méndez

Natural de Almaçarrón en el Reyno de Murcia, de edad de setenta años, cano con una herida en la cabeza. Cautiváronle en la marina de Almaçarrón habrá doce años. Fue esclavo del Rey de Argel. Costó su rescate seiscientas doblas de Argel que hacen mil treinta y cuatro Rls, los cuales pagaron sus paternidades en mi presencia de la limosna 231

del obispo de ig enza de que doy fe y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //53v

Al margen: En 27 de agosto le mataron unos moros y le hallaron ahorcado fuera de la Puerta de Bahaluedes?

89. Andrea, sardo

Natural de la isla de Cerdeña de edad de cuarenta y cinco años, mellado por la parte de arriba. Cautiváronle en Longona, frontera de Córcega. Fue esclavo del Rey de Argel. Cautiváronle habrá treinta años. Costó su rescate seiscientas doblas de Argel que hacen mil y treinta y cuatro Rls, los cuales sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia de la limosna del señor obispo de ig en a y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //54r

90. Marcos, siziliano

Natural del Reyno de Sicilia, de edad de setenta años, mulato, cano. Cautiváronle en dos galeras de Palermo viniendo a España habrá cuarenta años. Fue esclavo del Rey de Argel. Costó su rescate mil y treinta y cuatro Rls, los cuales sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia, de que doy fe, de la limosna del señor obispo de ig en a. Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //54r

91. Jacome, siziliano

Natural del Reyno de Sicilia, de edad de sesenta años, calvo, entrecano. Cautiváronle en la almadraba de Sicilia cuatro fragatas de Biserta habrá treinta años. Fue esclavo del Rey de Argel. Costó su rescate seiscientas doblas que valen mil y treinta y cuatro Rls los cuales sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia de la limosna y obra pía del comendador de Santibañez Orden de Alcántara y lo firmaron de que doy fe Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //54v

232

92. Juan, sardo

Natural de la isla de Cerdeña, de edad de ochenta años, cano, todo calvo. Cautiváronle en su casa una noche, habrá treinta y ocho años. Fue esclavo del Rey de Argel. Costó su rescate mil y treinta y cuatro Rls los cuales pagaron sus paternidades en mi presencia de la limosna y obra pía del comendador de Santibáñez, Orden de Alcántara y lo firmaron de que doy fe Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //54v

93. Hernando de Muça

Natural de la ciudad de Almería, de edad de setenta años con una señal de herida encima de la ceja del lado derecho. Cautiváronle en la torre de Cabo de Gata en la tierra, el mes de agosto de 615. Fue esclavo del Rey de Argel. Costó su rescate mil y treinta y cuatro Rls los cuales pagaron sus paternidades en mi presencia de la obra pía del comendador Santibáñez, Orden de Alcántara y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //55r

94. Fernando de Autón

Natural de la isla de Córcega, de edad de setenta años. Cautiváronle en su lugar en un asalto habrá cuarenta años. Fue esclavo del Rey de Argel. Costó su rescate seiscientas doblas, que hacen mil y treinta y cuatro Rls, los cuales pagaron sus paternidades en mi presencia de la memoria de la señora duquesa de Frías, y lo firmaron, de que doy fe Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //55r

95. Benito, ginobés

Natural de Génova, de edad de ochenta años, entrecano, ojos llorosos. Cautiváronle en la isla de Córcega habrá cuarenta y tres años. Fue esclavo del Rey de Argel. Costó su rescate seiscientas doblas que hacen mil y treinta y cuatro Rls, los cuales pagaron sus paternidades en mi presencia, de la memoria y limosna del comendador Santibáñez, Orden de Alcántara y lo firmaron de que doy fe Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //55v 233

96. Juan Durán

Natural de la ciudad de Toledo, de edad de treinta años, hijo de Nicolás Durán y de Juana López, de buen cuerpo con un lunar pequeño en el carrillo derecho. Cautiváronle pasando de Sicilia a España en el año de 607 en compañía del hijo del marqués de Villena. Fue esclavo del Rey de Argel. Costó su rescate mil y treinta y cuatro Rls que se le pagaron de la limosna y obra pía del comendador de Santibáñez, Orden de Alcántara y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //55v

Al margen: … estando para embarcarse le detuvieron por ser de los rescatados del m. Monroy y así se quedó

97. Joana Gopar

Natural de la isla de Lançarote, de edad de setenta años. Cautiváronla en el asalto de Lançarote el mes de mayo pasado de este presente año. Fue esclava del Rey de Argel que la entregó por su obligación a cumplimiento a los veinte, en mil y treinta y cuatro Rls que se pagaron por sus paternidades de la limosna y obra pía del comendador Santibáñez, Orden de Alcántara; y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //56r

Esclavos entregados por el duán Consejo de Argel, por fuerza, según dicha costumbre, son los siguientes, en veinte y ocho de julio, entregados

98. Jusepe de Mesina

Natural de Mesina de edad de setenta años. Cautiváronle en Levante habrá treinta y ocho años. Fue esclavo del duán de Argel que le entregaron por su obligación. Costó su rescate mil y treinta y cuatro Rls que sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia de la obra pía de Lope de Mendieta y lo firmaron de que doy fe, fray Andrés de Mancera, fray P. del Castillo, fray Diego de Ortigosa, ante mi, Juan de Aguiriano Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //56r

234

99. Ynés Pérez

Natural de Tenerife de las islas Canarias, de edad de sesenta años. Cautiváronla por mayo de este año. Fue esclava del dicho duán de Argel. Costó su rescate mil y treinta y cuatro Rls que se le pagaron en mi presencia de la obra pía de Lope de Mendieta y lo firmaron fray Andrés de Mancera fray P. del Castillo, fray Diego de Ortigosa y el dicho escribano y de ello doy fe Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //56v

100. Juan de Lucas

Natural de Lançarote de edad de cincuenta años. Cautiváronle por mayo de este presente año. Fue esclavo del duán de Argel que le entregaron por cuenta de los cuatro de su obligación en los dichos mil y treinta y cuatro Rls que le pagaron en mi presencia de la limosna y obra pía de Lope de Mendieta de lo que doy fe y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //56v

Esclavos del escribano del Rey Mostafá Chelivi de los de por fuerza al dicho precio son los siguientes. Entregáronse en 29 de julio

101. Luis de Sanabria

Negro, natural de la isla de Lançarote, de edad de cincuenta años, hijo de M. Sanabria Estibado. Cautiváronle por mayo de este presente año en el aslto de Lançarote. Fue esclavo de Mostafá Chelivi, escribano del Rey de Argel. Costó su rescate mil y treinta y cuatro Rls que sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia de la limosna de los señores de Polvoranca de que doy fe y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //57r

102. Sebastián Hernández

Natural de la isla de Lançarote, de edad de veinte años con una señal de herida en la frente … Hijo de Sebastián Hernández y de M. González. Cautiváronle en el dicho asalto en la dicha isla por mayo de este presente año. Fue esclavo de Mostafá Chelivi, escribano del Rey 235

de Argel que le entregó por su obligación en los dichos mil y treinta y cuatro Rls que se le pagaron en mi presencia de la limosna y obra de la señora condesa de Altamira, de que doy fe y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //57v

Entregó en uno de agosto. Entregó Ada Muda Tapachi por obligación y fuerza a

103. Salvador de Mayo

Natural de Palermo de edad de setenta años con una señal de herida en la frente en el lado derecho. Cautiváronle habrá cuarenta años en tiempo de Marco Antonio Coloma yendo a tomar lengua a Túnez. Fue esclavo en Argel de Ysain Baja y ahora lo era de Ada Muda Tapachi turco. Costó su rescate seiscientas doblas que hacen mil y treinta y cuatro Rls que se pagaron de la limosna y obra pía del obispo de ig enza en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //57v

Entregó en 1 de agosto por Acanfer y obligación a

104. María Rudal

Natural de la villa de Cangas en Galicia de edad de cuarenta y cinco años, hija de J. de Guemano y de María del Agua. Cautiváronla por diciembre de 1617 en el aslto de Cangas. Fue esclava de Acanfer, tarifa del Rey y costó su rescate mil y treinta y cuatro Rls que se pagaron de los veinte y cuatro mil Rls que se tomaron a daño en esta ciudad en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //58r

En dos de agosto de 618 los dichos redentores rescataron a

105. Diego Sánchez de Ribadeneira

Natural del Reyno de Galicia en los puentes de Eume, de edad de veinte y seis años con una señal de herida en la frente y otra grande en la muñeca izquierda. Hijo de J. de Pinero de Xascalla y de María Correa de Ribadeneira. Cautiváronle por agosto pasado de 617 en la presa de Cartagena. Fue esclavo de Ada Muda Ochavi Costó su rescate mil y cuatrocientas doblas 236

de Argel que hacen dos mil y cuatrocientos y trece Rls de Castilla, los cuale pagaron sus paternidades en mi presencia. Ayudósele con mil y seiscientos cincuenta Rls. De su dinero y con lo demás restante se ayudó con la limosna de la señora condesa de Altamira, en mi presencia de que doy fe Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //58r

En 4 de agosto se recibieron cuatro…del capitán Ali Mami de tierra y mar, por fuerza al dicho precio, siguientes

106. Gerónimo de Soto

Natural de Vigo con una señal de herida en el carrillo izquierdo, de edad de sesenta años. Cautiváronle por marzo de este presente año. Fue esclavo en Argel del capitán Ali Mami. Costó su rescate mil y treinta y cuatro Rls, los cuales se pagaron del dinero que se tomó a daño en mi presencia y los firmaron de que doy fe Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //58v

107. Bartolomé Brabo

Natural de Portondo, pequeño de cuerpo, rojo, entrecano, de edad de sesenta años. Cautiváronle por mayo de este año andando pescando en la mar, junto Bayona. Fue esclavo en Argel de Ali Mami, capitán de tierra y mar. Costó su rescate mil y treinta y cuatro Rls que se pagaron de la limosna de la Andalucía en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron y pagose del dinero que se tomó… a cambio el padre maestro fray P. del Castillo Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //59r

108. Nicolás de Braza

Natural de la ciudad de Murcia, alto de cuerpo, barbirrojo, entrecano, de edad de cincuenta y cinco años. Cautiváronle habrá treinta y cuatro años junto a Alicante. Fue esclavo en Argel de Ali Mami, capitán de mar y tierra. Costó su rescate mil y treinta y cuatro reales que le pagaron de la limosna de el arca de la Andalucía en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron y para este efecto tomó el padre maestro fray P. del Castillo el dinero a cambio en Argel Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //59r 237

En 9 de agosto del dicho año los dichos padres redentores rescataron a

109. Marcos de Bega

Natural de Getafe, aldea de Madrid, de edad de cuarenta años, hijo de S. de Bega y de Maria de Guarda, con una señal de herida en el carrillo izquierdo y una verruga en la frente. Cautiváronle por agosto de 617 en la presa de Cartagena. Fue esclavo en Argel de Mami Rojo, turco, de por fuerza y obligación. Costó su rescate mil y treinta y cuatro reales que pagaron sus paternidades, la mitad por la provincia de Castilla y la otra mitad por la de la Andalucía y del dinero que tomaron a daño, en mi presencia, de que doy fe, y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //59v

110. Juana López

Natural de la ciudad de Sevilla, de edad de setenta años, el ojo derecho menos. Cautiváronla por el mes de diciembre del año pasado de 617 viniendo de las Indias, de la isla de la Trinidad en un navío de Francisco de Fue esclava en Argel de Alel Chauz. Costó su rescate ciento y cincuenta doblas de Argel que hacen doscientos y cincuenta y ocho reales castellanos que sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia del dinero que tomó a daño el padre maestro fray P.del Castillo por la provincia de la Andalucía de que doy fe y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //59v

111. Pedro Gutiérrez y Avila

Natural de la ciudad de Avila del Rey, de edad de diez y nueve años. Hijo de Pedro Gutiérrez de Avila y de María Hernández, redondo de cara, de buen cuerpo y una señal de herida en la frente. Cautiváronle en veinte de enero de este año saliendo de la barra de Sanlúcar para canal, en un navío de Francisco de Avila. Fue esclavo en Argel de Brain Chali, turco de Estambul. Costó su rescate de principal compra mil y quinientas doblas que hacen de Castilla dos mil y quinientos y ochenta y seis Rls los cuales sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia del dinero que tomó a cambio el padre maestro fray P. del Castillo por la provincia de la Andalucía de que doy fe y lo firmaron 238

Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //60r

En dos de octubre

112. Diego de Fabricio De edad de sesenta años, de nación veneciano, esclavo de Cida Muda Tapachi, le hicieron recibir por fuerza en seiscientas doblas que hacen mil y treinta y cuatro Rls los cuales sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia de que doy fe, del dinero de Castilla. Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //60r

113. Francisco Amado

Vecino de Lançarote, esclavo de Ali Duy Le hicieron recibir por fuerza estando para embarcarse. Costó seiscientas doblas las cuales pagó aquí en Madrid la provincia de Castilla de que doy fe Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //60v

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APPENDIX B TRANSCRIPTION OF CODICE 125: SPANIARDS DESCRIBED AS “CAUTIVOS”

1. Lorenzo de la Cruz

Natural de la villa de Mondragón en la provincia de Guipúzcoa. Hijo de Juan Larez y Ana de Orduya, de edad de veinte y dos años, mediano de cuerpo, una raja en el carrillo izquierdo. Cautiváronle viniendo de la isla de la Trinidad, de las Indias, por el mes de diciembre de mil y seiscientos y diez y siete. Fue cautivo de Yedit Mahamet. Costó su rescate dos mil y seiscientos y sesenta y seis reales los cuales sus paternidadesde los padres redentores pagaron en mi presencia de que doy fe. Ayudósele con dos mil reales de la obra pía de Lope de Mendieta y los doscientos sesenta y seis reales de la obra pía de ---Ybañez de Arnani. Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //23r

2. Alvaro de Losada

Natural de Monforte de Lemos, Reyno de Galicia, de edad de veinte y siete años, de buen cuerpo, con una señal de herida en el dedosegundo de la mano derecho. Hijo de Suero Sánchez y Constanza de Losada, sus padres. Cautivo por el mes de agosto pasado de mil y seiscientos y diez y seis, yendo en la compañía de don Luis de Cháves en la presa de cartegena. Fue cautivo de Adefere, moro. Costó su rescate tres mil y setenta reales. Ayudáronle sus paternidades con dos mil reales de la obra pia del Señor Obispo de Çig enza y con mil y setenta reales de la memoria de la obra pia del señor condestable de Castilla, los cuales sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia, de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //23v

240

3. Diego de Ribera

Natural de Málaga, de edad de treinta y seis años, de buen cuerpo, barbirrubio, con una señal de herida entre las cejas. Hijo de Joan Moreno y de Juana de Herrera. Cautiváronle en las aguas de Torre Molinos, dos leguas a la mar, el diez de mayo de mil y seiscientos y diez y siete año. Fue cautivo de Yusef Araez, turco. Costó su rescate mil y ochocientos y ochenta y un reales. Ayudáronle con cuatrocientos y cuarenta reales del hospital de La Misericordia y con seiscientos y sesenta reales de la cofradía de La Vera Cruz de Sevilla y con doscientos y sesenta y cinco reales de la cofradía de Los Nazarenos de Sevilla y con el resto, de la obra pia de Angel de Castro de Sevilla, de los que los dichos padres pagaron en mi presencia, de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //24r

4. Pedro de Harteaga

Natural de Portugalete, de la provincia de Vizcaya, de veinte y ocho años, de buen cuerpo, barbitaheño, con una señal de herida en la mano izquierda. Hijo de M. de Ortega y de María de Chavarri. Cautiváronle en el Cabo de San Vicente, viniendo de Las Indias en compañía del capitán Sancho de Urdanivia, el dos de septiembre de mil y seiscientos y diez y siete. Fue cautivo en Argel de Morabut Esarti. Costó su rescate dos mil y setecientos y cincuenta y cinco. Ayudáronle con seiscientos y sesenta reales de la cofradía de La Vera Cruz y con dos mil y noventa y tres reales de Lopez de Mendieta, los cuales dichas paternidades pagaron en mi presencia y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //24v

5. Joan de Montañedo

Natural de San---en el señorío de Vizcaya, de edad de treinta y seis años, barbitaheño Tiene una señal de herida en la frente. Hijo de . Montañedo y de J. de Billa.

241

Cautivo en el Cabo de Santa María, viniendo de Vizcaya por el mes de septiembre de mil y seiscientos y quince. Fue cautivo de Ruy Boluco Baji, turco. Costó su rescate tres mil y ochocientos noventa reales reales, ayudáronle con dos mil reales dela limosna del Señor Obispo de Çig enza y con mil reales de la obra pia de Lope de Mendieta y con ochocientos y noventa reales de la obra pia de M. Ybáñez de Arnani, los cuales sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //25r

6. Miguel de Pando

Natural de la villa de Castro de Urdiales, en Las Encartaciones de Vizcaya, de edad de veinte años, moreno de rostro, barbilampiño con un lunar en el carrillo derecho junto a la oreja. Hijo de Juan de Pando y de María de Carranza. Fue cautivo en servicio de Su Majestad en la jornada de la ---por diciembre de seis--- siendo soldado de la compañía del capitán Francisco Gran---. Fue cautivo de Ali Pechili, turco renegado y de Ali Belar, turco, hasta el diez y seis de marzo de seiscientos y diez y siete que le tomó Mahamete Haga --- a Maamete Colobi que estaba cautivo en España. Costó su rescate fuera del --- del turco con todos los derechos y averías, dos mil y trescientos y sesenta reales. Ayudósele con seiscientos reales de la memoria y obra pia de Lope de Mendieta y lo demás pagó de su dinero en mi presencia y lo firmaron, de que doy fe Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //26r

7. Sancho de Cocullo

Natural de la villa de Portugalete en el Señorío de Vizcaya, de edad de treinta y siete años, entrecano, moreno de rostro, bien barbado, pequeño de cuerpo, rehecho con una señal de herida en medio de la frente. Hijo de Joan Cocullo y de

242

María Sánchez de B---. Cautiváronle por diciembre de seiscientos y diez y seis, sobre el Cabo de santa María viniendo de La Habana en compañía del capitán Sancho de Urdanivia. Fue cautivo en Argel de Amete Aliaga, turco. Costó su rescate cinco mil y quinientos reales con todas averías, ayudándosele con seiscientos y sesenta reales de La Vera Cruz de Sevilla y lo demás pagó de su dinero, de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //27r

8. Simón Rodríguez

Natural de San Sebastián, de edad de veinte años, de mediana estatura, barbiponiente, moreno de rostro. Hijo de Gaspar R. y de Juana Díaz vecinos de la dicha villa. Cautiváronle por el mes de noviembre del año pasado de 1616 yendo de Sevilla a Lisboa. Fue en Argel cautivo de Yfubo Lucobaji. Costó su rescate dos mil y setecientos y cincuenta y siete reales que valen noventa y tres mil y setecientos y treinta y --,los cuales sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia. Ayudósele con 862 reales dela obra pia del Señor Obispo de Çig enza y con 862 reales de la obra pia del señor condestable de Castilla y lo demás pagó de su dinero y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //29r

9. Damián de Linares

Natural de Villajoyosa en el Reyno de Valencia, de edad de cuarenta años, de mediano cuerpo, pecoso de rostro, el ojo izquierdo menos. Hijo de Damián de Linares y de Isabel Fornaz vecinos de la dicha villa. Cautiváronle por el mes de junio del año de 1607, fue cautivo en Argel de Mami Arráez, turco. Costó su rescate dos mil y cincuenta y seis reales. Ayudáronle sus paternidades con quinientos reales del arca de la provincia de la Andalucía, y lo demás pagó con su dinero y los dichos padres lo firmaron en mi presencia, de que doy fe Ante mi Juan de Aguriano (rúbrica) //30v

243

10. María Sánchez

Hermana de la dicha (Inés Sánchez) que cautivó con ella, de edad de diezy seis a diez y ocho años. Fue cautiva de Adraomán Benabe, moro de Túnez. Costó su rescate mil y quinientos y doce reales. Ayudósele con quinientos y cincuenta reales de la obra pia del licenciado Cervantes y lo demás por cuenta del arca de La Andalucía los cuales sus paternidades pagaron en mi presencia, de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //34v

11. Torivio de la Marina

Natural de Asturias de la Villadesella, pequeño de cuerpo, rehecho, Colorado de rostro, nariz y orejas grandes, de edad de setenta y cinco años. Hijo de José de La Marina. Cautiváronle por octubre de seiscientos y diez y seis, yendo con su navío a --- en servicio de Su Majestad. Era cautivo de Hamet Cortidor. Costó su rescate --- doblas. Ayudósele con sesenta ducados de la limosna de la cofradía de La Vera Cruz de Sevilla y con treinta ducados del convento de la cartuja y con doscientos y treinta y nueve reales de la limosna de la Compañía de Jesús de Sevilla y con doscientos y treinta y nueve reales de la limosna de la Compañía de Jesús de Sevilla y con doscientos y sesenta y cinco de Los Nazarenos de Sevilla y el resto se pagó del arca de La Andalucía y lo firmaron de que doy fe Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //36r

12. Jaime Bujados

Natural de la villa de Oropesa, de buen cuerpo, Bermejo, ojos azules con un lunar con pelos en el--- del medio del carrillo izquierdo, de edad de cuarenta años. Hijo de Jaime Bujados y de Margarita Soria. Cautiváronle en el Cabo de Oropesa, yendo por El Camino Real junto a la orilla de la mar, por junio de 617. Fue cautivo en Argel de Mami, turco.

244

Costó su rescate dos mil y cuatrocientos y sesenta y nueve reales. Ayudósele con seiscientos y setenta y cuatro reales de la limosna de la obra pía de la señora condesa de Altamira y lo demás se ayudó con su dinero y lo pagaron en mi presencia y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //41r

13. Juan Ruiz de Medina

Natural de la villa de Santorcaz, de buen cuerpo, lampiño, barba negra, ojos negros, de edad de veinte y cuatro años. Cautiváronle por Agosto de 1607 en la presa de Cartagena. Fue cautivo de Cide Hamuda Achavi, turco. Costó su rescate dos mil y cuatrocientos y treinta reales. Ayudósele de su dinero con mil reales, lo demás se pagó de la limosna del señor obispo de Çig ença y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //41r

14. Francisco [Pérez]Arias

Natural de --- del Reyno de Cataluña, de buen cuerpo, trecho, ojos azules, barba castaña, un poco lampiño, con dos lunares gruesos entre cejas, de edad de treinta años, hijo de Benito Arias. Cautiváronle en la plaza de Valencia, veinte millas a la mar, por el mes de octubre de 1610. Fue cautivo de Ali Pechilino, renegado genovés. Costó su rescate dos mil y cuatrocientos y noventa reales. Ayudósele con mil y cuatrocientos reales de la limosna del arca de La Andalucía y el resto pagó de su dinero de lo que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //41v

15. Alonso Pérez de la Çerda

Natural de Ayamonte, del arzobispado de Huelva. Hijo de Gonzalo de La Cerda. Cautiváronle por diciembre de 617 viniendo de Las Indias en compañía del capitán Sancho de Urdanivia junto a la barra de ---. Fue cautivo en Argel de Hamet, hijo de Maymón, moro de Argel. Costó su rescate mil y setecientos y veinte y cuatro reales. Sus paternidades le ayudaron con sesenta ducados de La Vera Cruz de

245

Sevilla y con cincuenta ducados de La Misericordia de Sevilla y el resto de la obra pía de Andrés de la Barrera, de que doy fe Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica)

16, 17, 18. Lucía Hernández y dos niñas

Natural de Maro, de sesenta años. Hija que dijo ser de la iglesia, ojos azules, cariarrugada. Cautiva por septiembre de seiscientos y diez y siete, cautiva con dos niñas, la una Juana y la otra Beatriz hijas de Diego Hernández---. Eran cautivas de Mahamet, turco. Costó su rescate dos mil y seiscientos y veinte reales que pagaron por cuenta de la obra pía y arca de la provincial de La Andalucía, y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //45r

19. Simón García

Natural de la villa de Cambados, del dicho arzobispado de Galicia, de buen cuerpo, ojos azules, de cincuenta años. Cautiváronle andando pescando junto a Bayona por el mes de mayo de este presente año. Fue cautivo de Acayn Baza, renegado Rey de Argel. Rescatósele por cuenta de su obligación por seiscientas doblas de oro que se pagaron por cuenta de la obra pía de Lope de Mendieta en mi presencia doy fe Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //47v

246

APPENDIX C TRANSCRIPTION OF CODICE 125: OWNERS OF RANSOMED SPANIARDS DESCRIBED AS “SU PATRON”

1. Jaime Campis

Natural de la ciudad deValencia, de edad de veinte y ocho años, de buen cuerpo, delgado barbinegro, con una señal de herida en la frente junto al cabello. Hijo de Pedro Campis. Cautiváronle en la mar andando a pescar, habrá seis años poco más o menos. Costó su rescate mil y doscientas doblas que se pagaron a Mahamet Casas, moro, su patrón. Ayudósele con setecientos y sesenta y nueve reales y lo demás pagó de su dinero en mi presencia de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //30v

2. Francisco de Ulloa

Natural de la ciudad de Murcia, de edad de veinte y siete años, poco más o menos, pequeño, de cuerpo delgado, pocas carnes, señal de herida sobre la frente al lado derecho. Hijo de Francisco de Ulloa y de María de Cháves. Cautiváronle por agosto de 1617 años en la presa de Cartagena. Costó su rescate mil y ochocientos y seis reales que se pagaron a Matamoro, su patrón. Ayudáronle con cincuenta ducados de la Compañía de Jesús y con cincuenta ducados de la obra pía de Andrés de la Barrera, y el resto de la limosna del arca de la Andalucía. Pagaron en mi presencia y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //35v

3. Antonio Pérez

Natural de la ciudad de S---a, de buen cuerpo, grueso, Abultado rostro descolorido, barbinegro. Hijo de P. González de Valdés, de edad de cuarenta años. Cautivo por diciembre de seiscientos y catorce en el barco que iba para Zamora. Fue su patrón Mahamet Boluco Baji, turco. Costó su rescate mil y doscientos y ocho reales. Ayudósele con setenta ducados de la Compañía de Jesús de Sevilla padre Escobar y lo demás se pagó del arca de la provincial de La Andalucía, los cuales pagaron

247

sus paternidades en mi presencia, de que doy fe y lo firmaron Ante mi Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //41v

4. Juan de Lomas

Natural de Mora, jurisdicción de la ciudad de Toledo, de veinte años, de mediano cuerpo, rehecho con señal de herida en la nariz. Cautivo en la presa de Cartagena por agosto de 617. Es hijo de Francisco de Lomas. Fue su patrón Ali Aranda. Costó su rescate dos mil y ochocientos y setenta reales, con los cuales ayudaron enteramente por haberlos encargado don Miguel Falconi en Valencia---y los pagaron en mi presencia y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //42v

5. Federico Mirabili

Caballero romano gentilhombre, ojos grandes y saltados, de treita y cinco años. Cautivo yendo de Barcelona para Denia por el año de 612. Era su patrón Chafar Adabaji. Costó su rescate cuatro mil y novecientos y cuarenta y seis reales. Pagáronlo sus paternidades los mil reales de la limosna del señor obispo de Çig ença y el resto por el arca de la provincial de Castilla. Pagose en mi presencia de que doy fe Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //45v

6. Luis de Betancor Vecino de Lan arote por… su patrón para que tratase del rescate de su mujer y hijos se le pagó la salida de la puerta que fueron sesenta y cinco Rls de que doy fe y lo firmaron Juan de Aguiriano (rúbrica) //60v

248

APPDENDIX D ARTIFACT TYPES AND COUNTS OF THE 2013 MATAMAR EXCAVATIONS

Table D-1. Artifacts from the 2013 excavations of the Mazmorras. Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 1.01 103.0 100.0 S,2 1 Z 78.8 14.9 14.6 2.8 Glaze White sand 29-30

2.01 103.0 102.0 S,1 1 Z 25.6 25.4 14.5 13.0 Glaze White sand 31-32

2.02 103.0 102.0 S,1 1 Z 24.0 24.0 15.6 10.9 Glaze Blue sand 31-32

2.03 103.0 102.0 S,1 1 Rim 31.5 27.2 6.4 6.6 Slip Very pale brown sand 31-32

2.04 103.0 102.0 S,1 1 Body 49.0 46.9 8.2 21.0 Glaze dark yellowish brtown sand

3.01 103.0 103.0 S,1 1 Z 73.3 55.7 18.6 107.0 Glaze modern concrete sand

3.02 103.0 103.0 S,1 1 Z 29.7 29.5 17.1 21.0 Glaze blue sand 33-34

3.03 103.0 103.0 S,1 1 Z 55.4 18.1 17.1 24.0 Glaze white sand 33-34

3.04 103.0 103.0 S,1 1 Z 29.3 19.4 15.5 13.2 Glaze blue sand 33-34

4.01 104.0 99.0 S,1 1 Z 53.5 54.5 12.8 65.0 Glaze black sand 35-36

5.01 104.0 100.0 S,1 1 Z 28.0 12.9 10.5 2.1 Glaze white sand 37-38

5.02 104.0 100.0 S,1 1 Z 4.8 1.9 Glaze black sand 37-38

5.03 104.0 100.0 S,1 1 Z 15.7 11.3 Glaze blue sand 37-38

5.04 104.0 100.0 S,1 1 Z 13.8 14.1 Glaze yellowish brown sand 37-38

5.05 104.0 100.0 S,1 1 Z 85.9 74.4 15.7 132.0 Glaze white and black sand 37-38

5.06 104.0 100.0 S,2 2 Z 57.0 54.7 13.2 72.0 Glaze blue sand 39-40

6.01 104.0 101.0 S,1 1 Z 12.9 54.0 Glaze blue sand 41-42

6.02 104.0 101.0 S,1 1 Z 14.3 15.5 Glaze blue sand 41-42

6.03 104.0 101.0 S,1 1 Z 26.7 25.3 16.3 16.7 Glaze black sand 41-42

6.04 104.0 101.0 S,1 14.5 64.0 Glaze black sand 41-42

6.05 104.0 101.0 S,1 Z 55.1 18.1 15.8 25.0 Glaze white sand 41-42

6.06 104.0 101.0 S,1 19.6 307.0 modern terrazo sand

7.01 104.0 102.0 S,1 1 Z 22.3 21.2 14.9 8.9 Glaze blue sand 43-44

7.02 104.0 102.0 S,1 1 Z 18.7 17.6 Glaze white sand 43-44

7.03 104.0 102.0 S,1 1 Body 6.7 6.8 Slip pink sand 43-44

7.04 104.0 102.0 S,1 1 Z 14.4 11.2 Glaze blue sand 43-44

7.05 104.0 102.0 S,1 1 Z 11.6 9.1 Glaze black sand 43-44

7.06 104.0 102.0 S,1 1 Z 54.7 17.6 16.3 25.0 Glaze white sand 43-44

250

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # #

7.07 104.0 102.0 S,1 1 Body 16.2 236.0 Glaze dark reddish brown sand 43-44

7.08 104.0 102.0 S,1 1 Z 55.6 54.6 13.3 71.0 Glaze black sand 43-44

7.09 104.0 102.0 S,1 1 Z 54.8 18.1 13.8 21.0 Glaze white sand 43-44

7.10 104.0 102.0 S,2 2 Z 26.1 25.8 14.7 14.1 Glaze strong brown sand 45-46

7.11 104.0 102.0 S,2 2 Z 14.5 6.2 Glaze white sand 45-46

7.12 104.0 102.0 unknown S,2 2 Z 14.5 14.9 sand 45-46

7.13 104.0 102.0 S,2 2 Z 26.3 25.9 16.7 18.4 Glaze strong brown sand 45-46

7.14 104.0 102.0 S,2 Z 15.8 20.0 Glaze unknown sand 45-46

7.15 104.0 102.0 S,2 Z 54.2 18.4 15.8 26.0 Glaze white sand 45-46

8.01 104.0 103.0 S,1 1 Z 13.4 38.0 Glaze black sand 47-48

9.01 105.0 98.0 S,1 1 body 16.1 73.0 Slip/Incised pale yellow sand 49-50

9.02 105.0 98.0 S,1 Z 11.8 10.3 Glaze blue sand 49-50

9.03 105.0 98.0 S,1 Z 53.9 17.7 16.4 26.0 Glaze strong brown sand 49-50

9.04 105.0 98.0 S,1 Z 56.0 55.1 12.8 69.0 Glaze strong brown sand 49-50

Brick 15.5 28.0

10.01 105.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.6 26.3 14.8 15.4 Glaze strong brown sand 51-52

10.02 105.0 99.0 S,1 Base 6.2 6.8 Slip pale yellow sand 51-52

10.03 105.0 99.0 S,1 Z 5.0 8.6 modern terrazo sand 51-52

10.04 105.0 99.0 S,1 Body 6.4 9.6 Slip pale yellow sand 51-52

10.05 105.0 99.0 S,1 Z 14.3 22.0 Glaze Blue sand 51-52

10.06 105.0 99.0 S,1 Z 17.1 26.0 Glaze strong brown sand 51-52

10.07 105.0 99.0 S,1 Z 56.7 55.3 13.5 65.0 Glaze strong brown sand 51-52

10.08 105.0 99.0 S,1 Z 57.6 55.0 12.5 71.0 Glaze Blue sand 51-52

10.09 105.0 99.0 brick hex S,1 M 77.4 77.4 23.0 223.0 UnGlaze sand 51-52

11.01 105.0 100.0 Ceram Ass S,1 1of2 Z 26.2 25.8 14.6 17.1 Glaze black sand 53-54

11.02 105.0 100.0 1of2 Z 17.4 26.0 Glaze white and blue sand 53-54

11.03 105.0 100.0 1of2 Z 14.2 26.0 Glaze white sand 53-54

251

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 11.04 105.0 100.0 1of2 Z 15.9 20.0 Glaze white sand 53-54

11.05 105.0 100.0 1of2 Z 26.6 26.4 15.5 19.1 Glaze white sand 53-54

11.06 105.0 100.0 1of2 Z 15.8 19.4 Glaze black sand 53-54

11.07 105.0 100.0 1of2 Z 26.4 26.1 16.6 19.5 Glaze white sand 53-54

11.08 105.0 100.0 1of2 Z 26.4 26.5 15.5 21.0 Glaze white sand 55-56

11.09 105.0 100.0 1of2 Z 14.1 16.6 Glaze blue sand 55-56

11.10 105.0 100.0 1of2 Z 12.9 53.0 Glaze black sand 55-56

11.11 105.0 100.0 1of2 Z 26.5 26.4 14.4 19.0 Glaze blue sand 55-56

11.12 105.0 100.0 1of2 Z 26.4 26.4 26.7 18.7 Glaze white sand 55-56

11.13 105.0 100.0 Assy 1of2 Z 16.8 264.0 Glaze white,black,blue sand 55-56

12.01 105.0 100.0 Reg Coll S,2 1of2 Z 14.3 40.0 Glaze black sand 63-64

12.02 105.0 100.0 S,2 1of2 Z 15.9 21.0 Glaze strong black sand 63-64

12.03 105.0 100.0 S,2 1of2 Z 16.8 16.0 Glaze black sand 63-64

12.04 105.0 100.0 S,2 1of2 Z 15.0 15.7 Glaze blue sand 63-64

12.05 105.0 100.0 S,2 1of2 Z 54.4 18.2 17.0 25.0 Glaze strong brown sand 63-64

12.06 105.0 100.0 S,2 1of2 Z 11.4 36.0 Glaze black sand 63-64

12.07 105.0 100.0 S,2 1of2 Z 26.6 26.0 14.9 12.7 Glaze strong brown sand 63-64

12.08 105.0 100.0 Terrazo S,1 2of2 Unk 19.7 189.0 Glaze modern terrazo sand 63-64

12.09 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 55.3 17.9 15.9 25.0 Glaze white sand 57-58

12.10 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 26.0 25.9 17.5 17.1 Glaze strong brown sand 57-58

12.11 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 17.4 16.9 Glaze white sand 57-58

12.12 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 26.6 26.5 15.4 16.9 Glaze white sand 57-58

12.13 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 24.0 23.0 16.1 10.9 Glaze strong brown sand 57-58

12.14 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 26.4 25.9 17.6 18.3 Glaze black sand 57-58

12.15 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 12.5 31.0 Glaze black sand 57-58

12.16 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 14.7 10.7 Glaze black sand 57-58

12.17 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 11.1 28.0 Glaze black sand 57-58

glaze olive brown,slip 12.18 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Body 8.5 51.0 Slip/Glaze sand 57-58 pale br

252

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # glaze olive brown,slip 12.19 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Body 17.7 26.0 Slip/Glaze sand 57-58 pale br 12.20 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 13.8 40.0 Glaze blue sand 59-60

12.21 105.0 100.0 broken S,1 2of2 Z 55.0 Glaze white sand 59-60

12.22 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 12.7 69.0 Glaze strong brown sand 59-60

12.23 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 56.5 54.7 11.5 67.0 Glaze black sand 59-60

12.24 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 79.5 14.9 13.5 28.0 Glaze strong brown sand 59-60

12.25 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 57.3 55.0 12.8 71.0 Glaze blue sand 59-60

12.26 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 11.5 89.0 Glaze strong brown sand 59-60

12.27 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 57.2 55.7 13.3 77.0 Glaze blue sand 59-60

12.28 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 13.4 65.0 Glaze blue sand 59-60

12.29 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 56.3 54.5 13.7 67.0 Glaze strong brown sand 61-62

12.30 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 55.2 55.2 14.4 68.0 Glaze black sand 61-62

12.31 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 11.8 64.0 Glaze blue sand 61-62

12.32 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 13.7 62.0 Glaze black sand 61-62

12.33 105.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 55.3 55.3 14.3 74.0 Glaze strong brown sand 61-62

12.34 105.0 100.0 ASSY S,1 2of2 Z 14.9 726.0 Glaze white,black,blue sand 61-62

Brick 32.3 2404.0

13.01 105.0 101.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.4 25.9 14.7 14.4 Glaze black sand 65-66

13.02 105.0 101.0 S,1 1of1 Body 10.8 18.2 Slip pale yellow sand 65-66

13.03 105.0 101.0 S,1 1of1 Z 56.8 55.2 12.5 65.0 Glaze blue sand 65-66

13.04 105.0 101.0 S,1 1of1 Z 55.6 54.4 11.6 57.0 Glaze black sand 65-66

13.05 105.0 101.0 S,2 1of1 Z 12.7 6.0 Glaze black sand 67-68

13.06 105.0 101.0 S,2 1of1 Z 24.6 24.3 15.7 10.7 Glaze black sand 67-68

13.07 105.0 101.0 S,2 1of1 Z 11.3 6.9 Glaze unknown sand 67-68

13.08 105.0 101.0 S,2 1of1 Rim 7.5 8.6 8.3 Slip very pale brown sand 67-68

13.09 105.0 101.0 S,2 1of1 Z 16.9 26.0 Glaze strong brown sand 67-68

13.10 105.0 101.0 S,2 1of1 Z 54.2 18.0 15.2 25.0 Glaze strong brown sand 67-68

13.11 105.0 101.0 S,2 1of1 Z 18.0 15.3 21.0 Glaze strong brown sand 67-68

253

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 13.12 105.0 101.0 S,2 1of1 Z 54.0 18.3 15.2 20.0 Glaze white sand 67-68

13.13 105.0 101.0 S,2 1of1 Z 76.3 18.7 14.1 34.0 Glaze blue sand 69-70

13.14 105.0 101.0 S,2 1of1 Z 77.4 19.3 14.3 35.0 Glaze blue sand 69-70

13.15 105.0 101.0 S,2 1of1 Z 12.6 32.0 Glaze black sand 69-70

13.16 105.0 101.0 S,2 1of1 Z 56.0 54.7 12.8 61.0 Glaze unknown sand 69-70

13.17 105.0 101.0 zellig assy S,2 1of1 Z 16.1 148.0 Glaze white,black,blue sand 69-70

13.18 105.0 101.0 Terrazo S,2 1of1 Z 17.8 1320.0 modern

14.01 105.0 102.0 S,1 1of1 Z 13.3 57.0 Glaze strong brown sand 71-72

14.02 105.0 102.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.5 26.5 16.0 14.9 Glaze white sand 71-72

14.03 105.0 102.0 S,1 1of1 Z 15.5 13.2 Glaze white sand 71-72

14.04 105.0 102.0 S,2 1of1 Z 15.6 22.0 Glaze blue sand 73-74

14.05 105.0 102.0 S,2 1of1 Z 14.6 16.4 Glaze strong brown sand 73-74

14.06 105.0 102.0 S,2 1of1 Z 16.1 10.2 Glaze black sand 73-74

14.07 105.0 102.0 S,2 1of1 Z 16.6 13.2 Glaze white sand 73-74

Brick 25.6 983.0

15.01 105.0 103.0 S,1 1of1 Z 13.3 57.0 Glaze black sand 75-76

15.02 105.0 103.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.5 26.5 16.0 14.9 Glaze blue sand 75-76

15.03 105.0 103.0 S,2 1of1 Z 15.5 13.2 Glaze whie sand 77-78

15.04 105.0 103.0 S,2 1of1 Z 15.6 22.0 Glaze white sand 77-78

15.05 105.0 103.0 S,2 1of1 Z 14.6 16.4 Glaze black sand 77-78

15.06 105.0 103.0 S,2 1of1 Z 16.1 10.2 Glaze strong brown sand 77-78

16.01 105.0 105.0 S,1 1 Z 24.2 23.5 16.3 10.9 Glaze blue sand 79-80

16.02 105.0 105.0 S,1 1 Rim 5.7 4.5 69.0 Glaze olive sand 79-80

faunal 2 2 28.0

17.01 106.0 96.0 D=45,55 S,1 Base 16.0 27.0 Slip white sand 81-82

Iron 1 25.0

18.01 106.0 98.0 S,1 1of1 Z 54.5 18.3 15.6 25.0 Glaze white sand 85-86

18.02 106.0 98.0 S,1 1of1 Z 77.2 19.6 15.9 38.0 Glaze blue sand 85-86

254

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 18.03 106.0 98.0 top of wall S,1 1of1 Z 38.7 Glaze pale yellowish green sand 85-86

18.04 106.0 98.0 S,2 1of1 Z 77.2 18.9 17.3 35.0 Glaze blue sand 83-84

19.01 106.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.3 26.3 17.9 19.8 Glaze

19.02 106.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.5 26.4 16.5 15.6 Glaze blue sand 87-88

19.03 106.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.7 26.7 14.7 16.8 Glaze white sand 87-88

19.04 106.0 99.0 None 1of1 Glaze white sand 87-88

19.05 106.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 15.0 13.5 Glaze white sand 87-88

19.06 106.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.6 26.5 15.3 16.4 Glaze blue sand 87-88

19.07 106.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.4 26.5 16.9 17.6 Glaze black sand 87-88

19.08 106.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.5 26.5 15.9 16.6 Glaze black sand 87-88

19.09 106.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 27.0 26.5 17.7 17.0 Glaze white sand 87-88

19.10 106.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.9 25.9 15.8 18.4 Glaze black sand 89-90

19.11 106.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.7 26.3 15.8 17.2 Glaze white sand 89-90

19.12 106.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.1 26.1 14.9 16.9 Glaze blue sand 89-90

19.13 106.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.6 26.8 14.6 15.2 Glaze strong brown sand 89-90

19.14 106.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 53.7 18.7 15.5 21.0 Glaze white sand 89-90

19.15 106.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.7 26.5 16.6 17.2 Glaze white sand 89-90

19.16 106.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 30.1 29.8 36.0 Glaze strong brown sand 89-90

19.17 106.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 56.0 55.2 15.1 74.0 Glaze black sand 89-90

19.18 106.0 99.0 Terrazo S,1 1of1 21.2 322.0 modern terrazo

19.19 106.0 99.0 Terrazo S,1 1of1 21.2 1760.0 modern terrazo

19.20 106.0 99.0 Terrazo S,1 2of2 223.0 223.0 22.2 3223.0 modern sand 91-92

20.01 106.0 100.0 S,1 1of1 Z 55.4 55.3 12.3 61.0 Glaze black sand 99-100

20.02 106.0 100.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.4 26.4 9.0 6.0 Glaze black sand 99-100

20.03 106.0 100.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.3 25.9 15.0 13.6 Glaze strong brown sand 99-100

20.04 106.0 100.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.4 26.2 16.2 17.1 Glaze white sand 99-100

20.05 106.0 100.0 S,1 1of1 Z 25.9 26.3 16.5 17.3 Glaze white sand 99-100

20.06 106.0 100.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.8 26.6 15.5 18.0 Glaze blue sand 99-100

255

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 20.07 106.0 100.0 Triangle S,1 1of1 Z 41.2 41.2 14.4 18.9 Glaze dark olive green sand 99-100

20.08 106.0 100.0 S,1 1of1 Z 56.7 55.5 13.5 69.0 Glaze black sand 99-100

20.09 106.0 100.0 S,1 1of1 Z 19.6 14.5 37.0 Glaze blue sand 101-102

20.10 106.0 100.0 Assy S,1 1of1 Z 78.0 53.4 13.7 65.0 Glaze black,white sand 101-102

20.11 106.0 100.0 S,1 1of1 Z 57.2 55.4 14.6 75.0 Glaze blue sand 101-102

20.12 106.0 100.0 Terrazo S,1 1of1 20.6 166.0 modern terrazo

20.13 106.0 100.0 Terrazo S,1 1of1 21.7 231.0 modern terrazo

20.14 106.0 100.0 S,1 1of1 Z 56.2 54.7 13.6 76.0 Glaze strong brown sand 101-102

20.15 106.0 100.0 S,1 1of1 Z 56.2 54.4 13.8 70.0 Glaze strong brown sand 101-102

20.16 106.0 100.0 S,1 1of1 Z 56.1 55.7 14.3 74.0 Glaze black sand 101-102

20.17 106.0 100.0 S,1 1of1 Z 56.2 56.1 13.2 72.0 Glaze strong brown sand 101-102

20.18 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 24.1 15.1 9.8 Glaze unknown sand 93-94

20.19 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 17.4 8.5 Glaze white sand 93-94

20.20 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 12.7 10.5 Glaze white sand 93-94

20.21 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 17.7 15.9 20.5 Glaze white sand 93-94

20.22 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 18.3 15.0 17.9 Glaze blue sand 93-94

20.23 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 26.6 26.6 16.4 17.9 Glaze white sand 93-94

20.24 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 13.9 13.1 Glaze unknown sand 93-94

20.25 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 20.0 14.8 22.0 Glaze blue sand 93-94

20.26 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 26.5 26.4 16.4 16.3 Glaze white sand 95-96

20.27 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 26.5 26.5 17.6 18.7 Glaze white sand 95-96

20.28 106.0 100.0 Triangle S,2 1of1 Z 37.7 20.9 17.1 13.0 Glaze white sand 95-96

20.29 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 18.0 17.1 24.0 Glaze white sand 95-96

20.30 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 54.5 18.0 18.2 28.0 Glaze white sand 95-96

20.31 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 15.0 13.8 22.0 Glaze white sand 95-96

20.32 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 15.3 15.5 17.7 Glaze unknown sand 95-96

20.33 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 55.0 18.7 13.4 27.0 Glaze strong brown sand 95-96

20.34 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 31.1 13.4 18.9 39.0 Glaze strong brown sand 97-98

256

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 20.35 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 17.6 15.5 22.0 Glaze strong brown sand 97-98

20.36 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 54.4 17.8 16.0 24.0 Glaze strong brown sand 97-98

20.37 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 56.5 54.8 13.8 76.0 Glaze unknown sand 97-98

20.38 106.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 17.4 17.3 27.0 Glaze white sand 97-98

20.39 106.0 100.0 edge tile S,2 1of1 Z 21.1 302.0 Glaze blue sand 97-98

21.01 106.0 101.0 S,2 1of1 Z 18.0 15.8 11.5 Glaze white sand 103-104

21.02 106.0 101.0 S,2 1of1 Z 13.9 13.1 Glaze blue sand 103-104

21.03 106.0 101.0 S,2 1of1 Z 62.3 60.7 21.6 22.1 Glaze pale green sand 103-104

21.04 106.0 101.0 Triangle S,1 1of1 Z 53.2 13.0 33.0 Glaze black sand 105-106

Stone 9.5

22.01 106.0 102.0 S,1 1of1 Z 14.4 34.0 Glaze black sand 107-108

22.02 106.0 102.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.3 25.6 14.5 13.2 Glaze white sand 107-108

22.03 106.0 102.0 S,2 1of1 Z 55.5 55.5 14.3 69.0 Glaze black sand 109-110

22.04 106.0 102.0 S,2 1of1 Z 13.7 46.0 Glaze blue sand 109-110

22.05 106.0 102.0 S,2 1of1 Z 16.0 15.0 Glaze black sand 109-110

23.01 106.0 103.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.5 26.2 15.8 16.3 Glaze white sand 111-112

23.02 106.0 103.0 S,1 1of1 Z 16.0 15.9 Glaze white sand 111-112

23.03 106.0 103.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.4 26.3 17.8 17.7 Glaze white sand 111-112

23.04 106.0 103.0 S,1 1of1 Z 55.7 18.5 14.0 23.0 Glaze white sand 111-112

23.05 106.0 103.0 S,1 1of1 Z 54.5 18.1 16.1 22.0 Glaze white sand 111-112

23.06 106.0 103.0 S,1 1of1 Z 54.7 18.4 14.4 22.0 Glaze white sand 111-112

24.01 107.0 98.0 Ceram Ass S,1 1of2 Z 27.2 26.8 17.4 18.1 Glaze strong brown sand 113-114

24.02 107.0 98.0 S,1 1of2 Z 26.3 26.3 15.8 16.0 Glaze strong brown sand 113-114

24.03 107.0 98.0 S,1 1of2 Z 26.7 26.7 16.2 17.0 Glaze unknown sand 113-114

24.04 107.0 98.0 S,1 1of2 Z 26.6 26.4 17.7 17.8 Glaze white sand 113-114

25.01 107.0 98.0 Reg Coll S,1 2of2 Z 55.1 13.7 69.0 Glaze black sand 115-116

25.02 107.0 98.0 S,1 2of2 Z 26.4 18.8 17.6 Glaze white sand 115-116

25.03 107.0 98.0 S,1 2of2 Z 25.9 25.7 14.4 14.5 Glaze white sand 115-116

257

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 25.04 107.0 98.0 S,1 2of2 Z 25.9 16.4 16.6 Glaze black sand 115-116

25.05 107.0 98.0 S,1 2of2 Z 26.3 26.1 16.6 17.2 Glaze black sand 115-116

25.06 107.0 98.0 S,1 2of2 Z 26.1 24.8 15.9 14.8 Glaze strong brown sand 115-116

25.07 107.0 98.0 S,1 2of2 Z 28.3 28.1 16.9 21.0 Glaze black sand 115-116

25.08 107.0 98.0 S,1 2of2 Z 25.9 16.4 15.1 Glaze white sand 115-116

25.09 107.0 98.0 S,1 2of2 Z 26.7 15.3 13.3 Glaze white sand 117-118

25.10 107.0 98.0 S,1 2of2 Z 15.3 15.3 Glaze white sand 117-118

25.11 107.0 98.0 S,1 2of2 Z 26.6 26.0 16.6 16.5 Glaze strong brown sand 117-118

25.12 107.0 98.0 S,1 2of2 Z 26.0 25.9 14.5 14.8 Glaze blue sand 117-118

25.13 107.0 98.0 Triangle S,1 2of2 Z 53.3 13.5 27.0 Glaze black sand 117-118

25.14 107.0 98.0 S,1 2of2 Z 17.9 15.3 25.0 Glaze white sand 117-118

25.15 107.0 98.0 Square S,1 2of2 Z 55.8 55.9 14.3 71.0 Glaze strong brown sand 117-118

107.0 98.0 modern 28.0

107.0 98.0 1/2 iron B 1 1008.0 119-120

26.01 107.0 99.0 Assy 2 S,1 1of1 Z 50.4 26.6 16.9 29.0 Glaze black,white sand 121-122

26.02 107.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 17.8 16.8 14.3 Glaze white sand 121-122

26.03 107.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 56.8 55.1 14.3 73.0 Glaze blue sand 121-122

26.04 107.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Z 15.9 15.7 Glaze unknown sand 121-122

26.05 107.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Rim 14.4 69.0 Glaze green sand 121-122

26.06 107.0 99.0 Terrazo S,1 1of1 Z 20.2 94.0 modern terrazo

Rock 14.1

27.01 107.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 17.4 13.6 9.0 Glaze white sand 127-128

27.02 107.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 26.2 15.9 15.7 Glaze white sand 127-128

27.03 107.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 16.9 18.6 Glaze white sand 127-128

27.04 107.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 26.3 26.1 16.6 15.5 Glaze strong brown sand 127-128

27.05 107.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 26.3 26.3 18.9 13.6 Glaze strong brown sand 127-128

27.06 107.0 100.0 S,1 1of2 Z 26.7 26.6 16.2 15.3 Glaze white sand 123-124

258

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 27.07 107.0 100.0 S,1 1of2 Z 25.8 25.3 15.1 15.2 Glaze white sand 123-124

27.08 107.0 100.0 S,1 1of2 Z 17.8 16.3 22.0 Glaze strong brown sand 123-124

27.09 107.0 100.0 S,1 1of2 Z 26.1 26.1 16.1 17.1 Glaze black sand 123-124

27.10 107.0 100.0 Triangle S,1 1of2 Z 72.1 41.5 14.3 41.0 Glaze black sand 123-124

27.11 107.0 100.0 Assy 4 pcs S,1 1of2 Z 53.2 52.0 17.5 73.0 Glaze strong brown,white sand 123-124

27.12 107.0 100.0 Assy 2 pcs S,1 1of2 Z 74.6 55.7 12.6 98.0 Glaze strong brown sand 123-124

27.13 107.0 100.0 S,1 1of2 Z 56.4 54.7 12.7 60.0 Glaze black sand 123-124

27.14 107.0 100.0 wall top S,1 1of2 Z 19.3 1029.0 Glaze pale yellowish green sand 125-126

27.15 107.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 26.0 26.5 16.3 16.2 Glaze white sand 129-130

27.16 107.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 26.2 26.1 17.2 16.4 Glaze white sand 129-130

27.17 107.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 26.7 25.5 17.3 17.4 Glaze black sand 129-130

27.18 107.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 54.3 17.3 16.4 22.0 Glaze white sand 129-130

27.19 107.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 54.3 17.3 14.8 23.0 Glaze white sand 129-130

27.20 107.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 54.1 18.4 14.4 22.0 Glaze white sand 129-130

27.21 107.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Brick 14.6 brick+mortar

27.22 107.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 18.9 17.7 30.0 Glaze strong brown sand 129-130

modern white ware in 27.23 107.0 100.0 wall top S,1 2of2 ? 20.4 1750.0 mortar 27.24 107.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 55.8 54.8 12.8 66.0 Glaze black sand 129-130

27.25 107.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 56.2 55.9 13.1 69.0 Glaze blue sand 129-130

27.26 107.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 57.1 55.4 14.4 73.0 Glaze strong brown sand 131-132

27.27 107.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 56.2 55.2 15.0 71.0 Glaze black sand 131-132

27.28 107.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 58.6 56.7 13.0 73.0 Glaze strong brown sand 131-132

27.29 107.0 100.0 edge L S,1 2of2 Z 21.1 Glaze blue sand 131-132

27.30 107.0 100.0 Assy 2 pcs S,1 2of2 Z 53.1 56.5 16.5 33.0 Glaze black,white sand 131-132

27.31 107.0 100.0 S,1 2of2 Z 26.1 26.1 17.4 17.8 Glaze black sand 131-132

28.01 107.0 101.0 S,2 1of1 Z 61.6 60.5 23.2 259.0 Glaze light greenish gray sand 133-134

28.02 107.0 101.0 S,2 1of1 Z 108.9 108.5 20.0 372.0 Glaze light greenish gray sand 133-134

28.03 107.0 101.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.1 25.7 16.8 17.2 Glaze strong brown sand 135-136

259

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 28.04 107.0 101.0 S,1 1of1 Z 54.1 17.9 16.1 23.0 Glaze white sand 135-136

28.05 107.0 101.0 S,1 1of1 Z 76.8 19.1 15.8 37.0 Glaze blue sand 135-136

28.06 107.0 101.0 S,1 1of1 Z 55.6 54.8 13.5 69.0 Glaze blue sand 135-136

28.07 107.0 101.0 S,1 1of1 Base 8.9 122.0 UnGlaze sand 135-136

28.08 107.0 101.0 S,1 1of1 Z 15.6 15.6 Glaze white sand 135-136

28.09 107.0 101.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.1 25.8 14.2 16.2 Glaze blue sand 135-136

28.10 107.0 101.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.6 26.5 17.2 18.1 Glaze black sand 135-136

29.01 107.0 102.0 S,1 1of1 Z 17.6 9.5 Glaze white sand 137-138

29.02 107.0 102.0 S,1 1of1 Body 7.7 250.0 Glaze unglaze sand 7A-8A* 19

29.03 107.0 102.0 S,1 1of1 Z 56.4 55.4 15.4 77.0 Glaze black sand 137-138

29.04 107.0 102.0 S,1 1of1 Z 54.6 18.2 16.3 26.0 Glaze strong brown sand 137-138

29.05 107.0 102.0 S,1 1of1 Z 18.0 17.3 27.0 Glaze strong brown sand 137-138

30.01 107.0 104.0 S,1 1of5 rim+b+b 728.0 unglaze sand 23A-24A* 20

30.02 107.0 104.0 S,1 2of5 rim+b+b 725.0 Slip very pale brown sand 139-140

30.03 107.0 104.0 S,1 4of5 Body 10.3 81.0 Slip very pale brown sand 141-142

30.04 107.0 104.0 S,1 4of5 Body 9.3 156.0 unglaze sand 11A-12A* 18

30.05 107.0 104.0 S,1 4of5 rim+body 751.0 slip white sand 5 & 6 1

30.06 107.0 104.0 S,1 3of5 Base 11.3 469.0 Slip white sand 1 & 2 1

30.07 107.0 104.0 S,1 3of5 Base top 8.5 161.0 Slip very pale brown sand 143-144

30.08 107.0 104.0 S,1 3of5 Body 7.0 123.0 unglaze sand 9A-10A* 19

30.09 107.0 104.0 S,1 3of5 Body 4.4 32.0 Slip very pale brown sand 143-144

30.10 107.0 104.0 S,1 3of5 Body 9.3 126.0 unglaze sand 5A-6A* 17

30.11 107.0 104.0 S,1 3of5 Body 9.2 114.0 unglaze sand 9A-10A* 19

30.12 107.0 104.0 S,1 5of5 Body 8.4 196.0 unglaze sand 17-18 17

30.13 107.0 104.0 S,1 5of5 Body 10.0 280.0 Slip very pale brown sand 145-146

30.14 107.0 104.0 S,1 5of5 Base 8.1 39.0 Slip very pale brown sand 145-146

30.15 107.0 104.0 S,1 5of5 Body 12.2 357.0 Slip white sand 3 & 4 1

30.16 107.0 104.0 S,1 5of5 Rim+bdy 3.5 unglaze sand 15-16 17

260

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 30.17 107.0 104.0 S,1 5of5 base+bdy 178.0 Slip very pale brown sand 145-146

faunal S,1 3of5 2 225.0

faunal S,1 4of5 7 91.0

brick 1 5of5 19.7

faunal 5of5 4 3.8

31.01 107.0 105.0 S,1 1of5 Body 2.9 1.5 Slip very pale brown sand 147-148

31.02 107.0 105.0 S,1 1of5 rim+b+b 5196.0 UnGlaze sand 25A26A* 20

31.03 107.0 105.0 S,1 1of5 Body 9.5 136.0 UnGlaze sand 147-148

31.04 107.0 105.0 S,1 1of5 Body 13.2 572.0 Slip white sand 9 & 10 1

31.05 107.0 105.0 S,1 1of5 Body 8.1 70.0 UnGlaze sand 5A-6A* 17

31.06 107.0 105.0 S,1 2of5 Base 8.4 66.0 UnGlaze sand 149-150

31.07 107.0 105.0 S,1 2of5 Body 12.5 95.0 slip white sand 3 & 4 1

31.08 107.0 105.0 S,1 2of5 Body 7.5 53.0 UnGlaze sand 149-150

31.09 107.0 105.0 S,1 2of5 Body 7.1 89.0 UnGlaze sand 149-150

31.10 107.0 105.0 S,1 2of5 Body 12.2 262.0 Slip very pale brown sand 149-150

31.11 107.0 105.0 S,1 2of5 Body 12.0 386.0 Slip white sand 11 & 12 1

31.12 107.0 105.0 S,1 2of5 Body 11.8 290.0 Slip very pale brown sand 151-152

31.13 107.0 105.0 S,1 3of5 Body+h 8.2 221.0 UnGlaze sand 153-154

31.14 107.0 105.0 S,1 3of5 Base 12.6 325.0 UnGlaze sand 15A-16A 19

31.15 107.0 105.0 S,1 3of5 Body 8.4 341.0 UnGlaze sand 21A-22A* 19

31.16 107.0 105.0 S,1 4of5 Body 9.8 11.4 Slip sand 155-156

31.17 107.0 105.0 S,1 4of5 Body 12.4 200.0 Slip white sand 11 & 12 1

31.18 107.0 105.0 S,1 4of5 Body 15.6 46.0 Glaze Dusky red sand 155-156

31.19 107.0 105.0 S,1 4of5 Base 11.0 35.0 UnGlaze sand 155-156

31.20 107.0 105.0 S,1 4of5 Body+h 12.0 155.0 UnGlaze sand 155-156

31.21 107.0 105.0 S,1 4of5 Body 7.7 26.0 Slip very pale brown sand 155-156

31.22 107.0 105.0 S,1 4of5 Body+ba 14.5 50.7 Slip very pale brown sand 157-158

31.23 107.0 105.0 S,1 5of5 Rim 6.2 48.4 Slip sand 159-160

261

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 31.24 107.0 105.0 S,1 5of5 Body+ba 350.0 UnGlaze sand 3A-4A* 16

31.25 107.0 105.0 S,1 5of5 body+base 292.0 Slip very pale brown sand 159-160

31.26 107.0 105.0 S,1 5of5 Rim+bdy 321.0 UnGlaze sand 25A-26A* 20

31.27 107.0 105.0 S,1 5of5 Body 9.2 159.0 UnGlaze sand 5A-6A* 17

Brick 5of5 Brick 205.0

Rock 5of5 69.0

5of5 2 30.0

32.01 108.0 98.0 S,1 1of1 Z 26.3 26.2 14.7 14.5 Glaze white sand 161-162

32.02 108.0 98.0 S,1 1of1 Z 54.0 18.3 18.4 24.0 Glaze white sand 161-162

33.01 108.0 99.0 S,1 1of1 Body 5.4 25.0 Slip light greenish gray sand 163-164

34.01 108.0 100.0 S,2 1of1 Z 26.8 26.5 16.5 10.2 Glaze white sand 165-166

35.01 108.0 101.0 S,1 1of2 brick tle 60.8 2681.0 Glaze pale green sand 167-168

35.02 108.0 101.0 S,1 2of2 42.4 266.0 Glaze pale green sand

35.03 108.0 101.0 S,1 2of2 45.1 473.0 Glaze pale green+glaze white sand 169-170

36.01 108.0 102.0 S,1 1of1 Z 61.9 60.1 19.6 193.0 Glaze pale green sand 171-172

36.02 108.0 102.0 S,1 1of1 Z 62.1 19.9 245.0 Glaze white sand 171-172

36.03 108.0 102.0 S,1 1of1 Z 61.3 60.8 23.0 245.0 Glaze white sand 171-172

36.04 108.0 102.0 S,1 1of1 Z 20.5 194.0 Glaze pale green sand 171-172

36.05 108.0 102.0 S,1 1of1 Z 61.0 61.1 22.1 314.0 Glaze white sand 173-174

36.06 108.0 102.0 S,1 1of1 Z 61.6 61.3 21.5 282.0 Glaze pale green sand 173-174

37.01 108.0 103.0 S,1 1of2 Body 6.7 6.6 Slip very pale brown sand 175-176

37.02 108.0 103.0 S,1 1of2 Z 14.1 5.3 Glaze pale green sand 175-176

37.03 108.0 103.0 S,1 1of2 Body 8.0 69.0 UnGlaze sand 175-176

stones 4 81.0

metal 1 0.7

faunal 4 11.0

Brick 8.1

Brick 2of2 195.0 33.1 1689.0

262

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 38.01 108.0 104.0 S,1 1of3 Body 7.3 11.0 UnGlaze sand 27A-28A* 19

38.02 108.0 104.0 S,1 1of3 base + 14.3 1018.0 UnGlaze sand 13A-14A* 19

38.03 108.0 104.0 S,1 2of3 Body 9.2 44.0 UnGlaze sand 11A-12A* 18

38.04 108.0 104.0 S,1 3of3 Body 6.3 31.1 UnGlaze sand 177-178

38.05 108.0 104.0 w/handle S,1 3of3 Body 7.7 59.0 UnGlaze sand 177-178

38.06 108.0 104.0 S,1 3of3 Body 9.8 137.0 UnGlaze sand 17-18 17

38.07 108.0 104.0 S,1 3of3 Body 6.6 85.0 UnGlaze sand 17-18 17

38.08 108.0 104.0 S,1 2of3 Body 4.7 15.1 slip very pale brown sand 41-42 12

38.09 108.0 104.0 S,1 2of3 Body 4.8 7.1 slip very pale brown sand 41-42 12

38.10 108.0 104.0 S,1 2of3 Body 5.3 18.2 slip very pale brown sand 39-40 11

38.11 108.0 104.0 S,1 2of3 Body 9.3 56.0 UnGlaze sand 37-38 17

38.12 108.0 104.0 S,1 2of3 Body 8.1 105.0 UnGlaze sand 37-38 17

38.13 108.0 104.0 S,1 2of3 Body 10.4 slip very pale brown sand 39-40 11

Rocks 82.0

Faunal 59 629.0

Faunal 80 699.0

39.01 108.0 105.0 S,1 1of8 Body 12.5 342.0 Slip white sand 7 & 8 1

39.02 108.0 105.0 rim=13,75 S,1 1of8 Rim+bdy 7.9 262.0 glaze brownish yellow sand 13-14 2

39.03 108.0 105.0 rim=13,98 S,1 1of8 Rim+bdy 7.9 250.0 glaze brownish yellow sand 13-14 2

39.04 108.0 105.0 S,1 1of8 Body 8.2 314.0 UnGlaze sand 19A-20A* 19

39.05 108.0 105.0 S,1 8of8 Body 7.2 8.8 UnGlaze sand 179-184

39.06 108.0 105.0 D=130 S,1 8of8 Body+ba 9.2 899.0 Slip pale yellow sand 179-184

39.07 108.0 105.0 w/hole S,1 7of8 Body 14.9 578.0 UnGlaze sand 17A-18A* 19

39.08 108.0 105.0 S,1 5of8 Body 11.0 150.0 slip white sand 1A-2A * 1

39.09 108.0 105.0 S,1 5of8 Body 7.0 30.0 Slip very pale brown sand 185-186

39.10 108.0 105.0 S,1 5of8 Body 6.0 65.0 Slip very pale brown sand 185-186

39.11 108.0 105.0 w/rim S,1 5of8 Body 11.5 275.0 UnGlaze sand 185-186

39.12 108.0 105.0 S,1 5of8 Body 4.3 9.7 Glaze light yellowish brown sand 187-188

263

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 39.13 108.0 105.0 S,1 5of8 Body 5.8 55.0 UnGlaze sand 187-188

39.14 108.0 105.0 S,1 5of8 Body 6.8 42.0 Slip very pale brown sand 187-188

light reddish brown 39.15 108.0 105.0 S,1 6of8 R+H+B 203.0 Slip sand 189-190 pink 39.16 108.0 105.0 D=74,52 S,1 6of8 Base 10.1 184.0 Slip very pale brown sand 189-190

39.17 108.0 105.0 S,1 3of8 Body 5.6 14.5 UnGlaze sand 191-192

39.18 108.0 105.0 D=74,20 S,1 3of8 Base 15.6 111.0 Slip very pale brown sand 191-192

glaze=greyish 39.19 108.0 105.0 D=91,9 S,1 3of8 Base 8.8 374.0 Slip+Glaze sand 191-192 grn,slip=pale br 193A- 39.20 108.0 105.0 S,1 4of8 Body 7.8 88.0 UnGlaze sand 19 194A* 39.21 108.0 105.0 S,1 4of8 Body 7.4 130.0 UnGlaze sand 21A-22A* 19

39.22 108.0 105.0 S,1 4of8 Body 7.4 139.0 UnGlaze sand 19A-20A* 19

39.23 108.0 105.0 S,1 4of8 Body 7.0 46.0 UnGlaze sand 195-196

39.24 108.0 105.0 S,1 4of8 Body 4.2 1.9 Slip pale yellow sand 195-196

39.25 108.0 105.0 S,1 4of8 Base 14.6 17.4 UnGlaze sand 23.24 16

39.26 108.0 105.0 S,1 4of8 Body 7.9 94.0 unglaze sand 21-22 4

39.27 108.0 105.0 S,1 4of8 Body 6.3 21.0 UnGlaze sand 21-22 4

39.28 108.0 105.0 S,1 4of8 Base 13.0 45.0 UnGlaze sand 3A-4A* 16

39.29 108.0 105.0 S,1 4of8 Base 11.5 126.0 UnGlaze sand 23-24 16

39.30 108.0 105.0 S,1 4of8 Base 14.1 325.0 UnGlaze sand 195-196

39.31 108.0 105.0 S,1 2of8 Body 7.4 56.0 UnGlaze sand 197-198

39.32 108.0 105.0 cylinder S,1 2of8 Unk 30.9 130.0 Glaze dark greyish green sand 197-198

Metal 2of8 1 18.6

faunal 2of8 31 359.0

Metal 4of8 2 53.0

Faunal 4of8 4 43.0

39.33 108.0 105.0 13.3 Slip very pale brown sand 197-198

39.34 108.0 105.0 2.1 Slip very pale brown sand 197-198

Clamshell 4of8 14.6

40.01 109.0 102.0 Handle S,1 1of1 Handle 13.3 11.6 UnGlaze sand 199-200

264

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 41.01 109.0 103.0 None S,1

109.0 103.0 Rock S,1 1of1 21.0

109.0 103.0 Faunal S,1 1of1 8.3

42.01 109.0 104.0 D=75,05 S,1 1of4 bse,bdy 7.9 247.0 UnGlaze sand 201-202

42.02 109.0 104.0 S,1 1of4 Body 9.4 91.0 UnGlaze sand 201-202

42.03 109.0 104.0 S,1 1of4 Body 7.4 331.0 Slip pale brown sand 203-204

42.04 109.0 104.0 S,1 3of4 Body 6.8 13.8 Slip very pale brown sand 205-206

42.05 109.0 104.0 S,1 4of4 Body 4.7 9.9 Slip light reddish brown sand 207-208

42.06 109.0 104.0 S,1 4of4 Rim 5.8 14.4 Slip very pale brown sand 207-208

42.07 109.0 104.0 S,1 4of4 Body 3.4 5.2 Slip very pale brown sand 207-208

42.08 109.0 104.0 Body 3.6 Slip very pale brown sand 207-208

109.0 104.0 Metal S,1 2of4 114.0

109.0 104.0 Faunal S,1 4of4 388.0

109.0 104.0 Faunal S,1 3of4 410.0

109.0 104.0 MZIHRI S,1 3of4 11.9

109.0 104.0 stones S,1 3of4 10.0

109.0 104.0 Glass S,1 3of4 16.0

109.0 104.0 Faunal S,1 1013.0

43.01 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 2 Rim 18.7 400.0 Slip very pale brown sand 209-210

44.01 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 3 Ba,bdy 9.3 607.0 Slip very pale brown sand 211-212

44.02 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 3 Body 9.7 7.3 Slip very pale brown sand 213-214

44.03 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 3 Base 9.2 27.0 UnGlaze sand 213-214

44.04 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 3 Body 7.6 44.0 UnGlaze sand 27A-28A* 19

44.05 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 3 Body 7.6 77.0 Slip pink sand 213-214

44.06 96.5 99.5 ST1 Lv3 Body 9.0 Slip very pale brown sand 213-214

Stones 47.0

MZIHRI 20.0

45.01 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Unk 6.9 4.4 UnGlaze sand 215-216

265

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 45.02 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 3.3 3.9 Slip pink sand 215-216

45.03 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Unk 7.9 7.9 sand

45.04 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 7.9 4.2 Slip very pale brown sand 215-216

glaze yellowish 45.05 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 5.6 3.1 Slip+Glaze sand 215-216 red,slip gray 45.06 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 7.2 4.5 Slip light gray sand 215-216

45.07 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 6.2 3.3 Slip very pale brown sand 215-216

45.08 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 10.7 6.9 Slip very pale brown sand 215-216

45.09 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Rim 6.3 3.8 UnGlaze sand 215-216

45.10 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Unk 9.2 5.6 Slip very pale brown sand 215-216

45.11 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 11.2 7.7 Slip very pale brown sand 215-216

45.12 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Rim 7.1 7.1 Slip pale brown sand 215-216

45.13 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Rim 4.7 6.7 Glaze yellowish brown sand 215-216

45.14 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 9.7 11.2 Slip very pale brown sand 215-216

45.15 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Base 6.4 6.5 UnGlaze sand 215-216

45.16 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 8.2 10.9 Slip very pale brown sand 217-218

45.17 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 11.6 8.8 Slip pale brown sand 217-218

45.18 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 9.8 9.2 Slip pale brown sand 217-218

45.19 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 5.2 5.4 UnGlaze sand 217-218

45.20 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 7.8 10.4 Slip very pale brown sand 217-218

glaze dark grayish 45.21 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Ba,bdy 8.1 28.0 Slip+glaze sand 217-218 br,slip gray 45.22 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 7.3 8.9 slip very pale brown sand 43-44 13

45.23 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Rim 7.7 11.9 Slip pale brown sand 217-218

45.24 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 7.8 16.7 Slip pinkish white sand 217-218

45.25 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Rim 7.1 10.3 Slip very pale brown sand 43-44 13

45.26 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 8.9 11.9 Slip very pale brown sand 217-218

45.27 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 6.8 8.6 Slip very pale brown sand 219-220

45.28 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 7.9 16.4 Slip gray sand 219-220

45.29 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 7.9 14.5 Slip pinkish gray sand 219-220

266

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 45.30 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 10.5 26.0 Slip very pale brown sand 219-220

45.31 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Base 8.0 35.0 slip very pale brown sand 43-44 13

45.32 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 7.6 17.4 UnGlaze sand 219-220

45.33 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 9.3 40.0 Slip pale brown sand 219-220

45.34 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 4 Body 6.4 13.9 Slip very pale brown sand 219-220

45.35 96.5 99.5 ST1 Lv4 Slip very pale brown sand 219-220

MZIHRI 76.0

Faunal 3 14.2

Stones 72.0

46.01 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 5 Body 7.5 4.0 Slip very pale brown sand 221-222

46.02 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 5 Body 9.0 37.0 Slip very pale brown sand 221-222

46.03 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 5 Unk 9.9 3.4 UnGlaze sand 221-222

46.04 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 5 Rim 6.2 5.6 Slip light gray sand 221-222

46.05 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 5 Body 7.0 3.3 UnGlaze sand 221-222

46.06 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 5 Body 8.8 6.3 Slip very pale brown sand 221-222

46.07 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 5 Body 8.5 9.4 Slip very pale brown sand 221-222

46.08 96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 5 Rim 3.7 1.9 UnGlaze sand 221-222

96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 5 3 23.0

96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 5 25.0

96.5 99.5 ST 1 Lv 5 23.0

ST 1 R/C 47.01 96.5 99.5 Sam 48.01 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 1 Body 5.8 5.5 Slip white sand 223-224

48.02 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 1 Body 5.5 8.7 Slip white sand 223-224

48.03 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 1 Body 4.8 27.0 glaze dark yellowish brown sand 45-46 14

48.04 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 1 Rim 6.6 35.0 glaze dark yellowish brown sand 45-46 14

97.0 103.0 Faunal Lv 1 1 21.0

49.01 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 2 Unk 6.4 4.6 Slip pale brown sand 225-226

49.02 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 2 Body 8.2 49.0 Slip very pale brown sand 225-226

267

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 50.01 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 3 Body 5.1 8.6 Slip very pale brown sand 227-228

50.02 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 3 Body 7.3 11.9 Slip white sand 227-228

50.03 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 3 Body 11.3 3.7 UnGlaze sand 227-228

50.04 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 3 Body 10.3 30.0 Glaze light gray sand 227-228

50.05 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 3 Body 6.6 4.7 Slip pink sand 227-228

50.06 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 3 Body 5.6 10.7 Slip light gray sand 227-228

50.07 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 3 MZIHRI 25.5 105.0 sand

50.08 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 3 Body 6.0 11.6 Slip very pale brown sand 227-228

50.09 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 3 Body 6.6 12.1 Slip white sand 229-230

50.10 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 3 Body 8.2 24.0 Slip dark gray sand 229-230

50.11 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 3 Body 4.9 7.2 Slip very pale brown sand 229-230

50.12 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 3 Body 5.9 8.8 Slip light gray sand 229-230

50.13 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 3 Body 7.3 6.4 Slip very pale brown sand 229-230

50.14 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 3 Body 4.6 15.0 Slip very pale brown sand 229-230

Glass 35.0

51.01 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 6.7 8.7 Slip very pale brown sand 233-234

51.02 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 6.9 6.5 Slip very pale brown sand 233-234

51.03 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Unk 7.9 9.8 Slip very pale brown sand 233-234

51.04 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 7.2 3.7 Slip very pale brown sand 233-234

51.05 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Unk 6.8 5.1 Slip light reddish brown sand 233-234

51.06 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 6.3 6.3 UnGlaze sand 233-234

51.07 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Rim 6.3 35.0 Slip pinkish gray sand 233-234

51.08 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 7.7 12.3 Slip light brown sand 233-234

51.09 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 6.7 4.5 Slip pink sand 233-234

51.10 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Rim 5.7 6.0 Glaze yellowish brown sand 235-236

51.11 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 7.5 11.2 Slip very pale brown sand 235-236

glaze strng brwn,slip 51.12 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 5.9 9.7 Slip+Glaze sand 235-236 very dk br 51.13 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 5.4 6.4 Slip light gray sand 235-236

268

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 51.14 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 6.7 13.3 Slip dark gray sand 235-236

51.15 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 7.2 10.7 Slip very pale brown sand 235-236

glaze dk olive gray,slip 51.16 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 6.0 17.4 Slip+Glaze sand 235-236 dk gray 51.17 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 6.7 8.0 Slip very pale brown sand 235-236

51.18 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Unk 18.0 58.0 Slip pink sand 235-236

51.19 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 6.1 24.0 Slip pink sand 235-236

51.20 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 6.6 5.5 Slip light brownish gray sand 237-238

51.21 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 6.7 21.0 Slip pale brown sand 237-238

51.22 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 7.2 9.8 Slip very pale brown sand 237-238

51.23 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Base 10.2 33.0 Slip very pale brown sand 237-238

glaze strng brown,slip 51.24 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 7.8 20.0 Slip+Glaze sand 237-238 dk gray 51.25 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Rim 4.5 15.7 Slip pink sand 237-238

51.26 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 8.8 35.0 slip very pale brown sand 27-28 7

51.27 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 8.0 25.0 Slip very dark gray sand 237-238

51.28 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 6.0 14.1 Slip pale brown sand 237-238

51.29 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Base 19.3 34.0 UnGlaze sand 237-238

51.30 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 5.5 30.0 UnGlaze sand 239-240

51.31 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 6.4 36.0 Slip black sand 239-240

51.32 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 7.3 26.0 UnGlaze sand 239-240

51.33 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 6.9 31.0 Slip pale brown sand 239-240

51.34 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 9.6 55.0 slip very pale brown sand 27-28 7

51.35 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Rim 9.2 101.0 UnGlaze sand 239-240

51.36 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Base 15.6 190.0 slip pinkish white sand 35-36 8

51.37 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 5.9 24.0 Glaze strong brown sand 239-240

51.38 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 6.0 36.0 Glaze very dark gray sand 239-240

51.39 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Rim 12.4 64.0 glaze strong brown sand 31-32 9

glaze dk olive gray,slip 51.40 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Body 4.7 42.0 Glaze + Slip sand 241-242 black 51.41 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Rim 5.7 112.0 Glaze pale green sand 241-242

269

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 51.42 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Rim 11.8 147.0 Glaze strong brown sand 241-242

51.43 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1of2 Base 10.2 71.0 Glaze pink sand 241-242

51.44 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Body 10.8 13.2 UnGlaze sand 243-244

glaze dk olive gray,slip 51.45 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Body 7.8 4.1 Glaze+slip sand 243-244 lt br gray 51.46 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Rim 8.4 4.3 Slip pale brown sand 243-244

glaze dk olive gray,slip 51.47 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Body 6.7 3.0 Glaze+slip sand 243-244 lt br gray 51.48 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Unk 7.0 5.2 Slip pale brown sand 243-244

glaze dk olive gray,slip 51.49 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Body 6.1 17.2 Glaze+slip sand 243-244 lt br gray 51.50 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Body 5.6 5.2 Slip pale brown sand 243-244

glaze st brn,slip very 51.51 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Body 7.0 7.8 Glaze+slip sand 243-244 dk gray 51.52 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Body 4.7 8.2 Slip/Incised very pale brown sand 243-244

51.53 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Body 4.9 15.1 Glaze+slip glaze brown,slip pink sand 245-246

51.54 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Rim 9.4 21.0 Slip pale brown sand 245-246

51.55 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Rim 8.3 10.5 Slip pale brown sand 245-246

51.56 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Rim 11.1 31.0 Slip black sand 245-246

51.57 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Unk 9.9 24.0 Slip very pale brown sand 245-246

51.58 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Rim 5.8 16.4 Slip very pale brown sand 245-246

51.59 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Body 6.1 10.7 Slip pale brown sand 245-246

51.60 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Body 10.9 37.0 UnGlaze sand 247-248

51.61 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Body 5.5 21.0 Slip pinkish gray sand 247-248

51.62 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Body 10.7 55.0 Slip pink sand 247-248

51.63 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 2of2 Body 7.4 35.0 Slip light reddish brown sand 247-248

97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 11 150.0

97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 91.0

97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 13.0

97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 7.1 231-232

270

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 25.0

97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 4 1 3.9

52.01 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 5.7 2.6 Slip black sand 249-250

52.02 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Unk 9.1 3.1 Slip black sand 249-250

52.03 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 5.6 12.0 Slip dark reddish gray sand 249-250

glaze strng brown,slip 52.04 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 5.9 4.2 Glaze+Slip sand 249-250 pink 52.05 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Base 8.9 5.4 Slip pale brown sand 249-250

52.06 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 8.0 7.9 Slip pink sand 249-250

52.07 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 4.1 2.1 Slip pale brown sand 249-250

52.08 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Handle 5.4 10.3 Slip pale brown sand 249-250

52.09 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Rim 8.2 8.7 Slip black sand 249-250

52.10 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 10.7 14.5 Slip black sand 249-250

52.11 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 7.1 24.0 glaze strong brown sand 33-34 10

52.12 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 6.1 8.5 Slip light reddish brown sand 251-252

52.13 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 6.8 8.1 Glaze+Slip glaze brown,slip pink sand 251-252

52.14 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Rim 6.5 14.6 Slip very pale brown sand 251-252

52.15 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Unk 10.8 9.7 Slip very pale brown sand 251-252

glaze dk olive gray,slip 52.16 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 10.0 15.1 Glaze+Slip sand 251-252 lt gray 52.17 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 4.9 9.7 Slip very pale brown sand 251-252

52.18 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 7.9 5.8 Slip very pale brown sand 251-252

52.19 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Unk 5.9 6.9 Slip pink sand 251-252

52.20 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Rim 5.0 9.8 Slip-Stamped very pale brown=slip sand 253-254

52.21 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Handle 4.6 12.8 Slip very pale brown sand 253-254

52.22 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 6.6 10.6 Slip very pale brown sand 253-254

52.23 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Rim 5.1 21.0 Slip very pale brown sand 253-254

52.24 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Base 13.1 58.0 Slip black sand 253-254

52.25 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 5.0 31.0 Slip black sand 253-254

52.26 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 5.6 8.6 Slip black sand 253-254

glaze very dk 52.27 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 5.9 8.8 Glaze+Slip sand 255-256 brown,slip pink

271

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 52.28 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 6.3 8.7 Slip pink sand 255-256

52.29 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Rim+ 7.4 45.0 Slip pink sand 255-256

52.30 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 6.7 16.0 Slip black sand 255-256

52.31 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Rim 6.0 54.0 Slip pink sand 255-256

52.32 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Rim 12.2 131.0 glaze strong brown sand 31-32 9

52.33 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Base 7.7 85.0 Slip very pale brown sand 257-258

52.34 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 7.8 24.0 glaze strong brown sand 33-34 10

52.35 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 11.7 35.0 Slip black sand 257-258

52.36 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Body 9.8 46.0 Slip pale brown sand 257-258

52.37 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Base 15.6 250.0 slip pinkish white sand 35-36 8

52.38 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Rim 13.3 40.0 Glaze strong brown sand 257-258

52.39 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv 5 1of1 Base 20.8 85.0 Slip very pale brown sand 257-258

97.0 103.0 Faunal Lv 5 1of1 11 117.0

Stone 1 524.0

53.01 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 1of3 Rim 7.6 9.9 Glaze browish yellow sand 255-256

53.02 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 1of3 Rim 3.9 3.1 Slip-Incised pink sand 255-256

53.03 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 1of3 Body 7.5 7.5 Slip black sand 255-256

53.04 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 1of3 Body 5.7 6.4 Slip light gray sand 255-256

53.05 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 1of3 Body 6.7 8.9 Slip very pale brown sand 255-256

53.06 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 1of3 Body 6.9 21.0 Glaze+Slip glaze brown,slip pink sand 255-256

53.07 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 1of3 Body 6.4 22.0 Slip black sand 255-256

53.08 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 1of3 Base 7.3 13.8 Slip black sand 255-256

53.09 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 1of3 Base 8.8 26.0 Unglaze sand 255-256

53.10 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 1of3 Handle 7.3 26.0 Slip pink sand 267-268

53.11 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 1of3 Rim 13.2 51.0 Glaze yellowish red sand 267-268

53.12 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 1of3 Body 6.9 35.0 Glaze yellowish red sand 267-268

53.13 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 1of3 Body 8.3 31.0 Slip pale brown sand 267-268

53.14 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 1of3 Unk 12.7 55.0 Unglaze sand 267-268

53.15 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 1of3 Body 6.7 53.0 Glaze yellowish red sand 269-270

272

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 53.16 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 1of3 Rim 13.0 94.0 Glaze yellowish red sand 269-270

53.17 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Body 4.6 4.2 Slip black sand 259-260

53.18 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Handle 7.1 39.0 Slip light reddish brown sand 259-260

53.19 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Rim 23.2 251.0 Slip pale brown sand 259-260

53.20 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Body 5.1 19.7 Slip black sand 259-260

53.21 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Rim 8.0 60.0 Slip pink sand 259-260

53.22 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Handle 9.3 91.0 Slip black sand 261-262

53.23 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Body 6.7 12.0 Glaze light olive sand 261-262

53.24 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Handle 7.9 22.0 Slip light gray sand 261-262

glaze strong 53.25 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Body 7.6 10.8 Glaze+Slip sand 261-262 brown,slip gray 53.26 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Body 6.0 13.4 Slip black sand 261-262

53.27 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Rim 9.6 23.0 Slip pink sand 261-262

53.28 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Body 8.7 28.0 Slip black sand 261-262

53.29 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Body 8.4 10.0 Slip pink sand 261-262

53.30 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Body 8.5 96.0 Slip black sand 263-264

53.31 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Body 5.5 17.8 Slip pink sand 263-264

53.32 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Body 4.6 19.6 Slip pale brown sand 263-264

53.33 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Rim 23.1 135.0 Slip pink sand 263-264

53.34 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 2of3 Body 11.3 101.0 Slip pink sand 263-264

53.35 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 3of3 Base 5.3 4.5 Slip pink sand 271-272

53.36 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 3of3 Body 6.8 7.1 Unglaze sand 271-272

glaze yellowish 53.37 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 3of3 Body 5.7 9.0 Glaze+Slip sand 271-272 red,slip black 53.38 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 3of3 Body 7.2 9.2 Slip pink sand 271-272

53.39 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 3of3 Rim 13.2 5.1 Glaze yellowish red sand 271-272

53.40 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 3of3 Body 6.4 14.3 slip black sand 29-30 6

53.41 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 3of3 Rim 10.0 35.0 slip black sand 29-30 6

53.42 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 3of3 Body 10.7 26.0 slip black sand 25-26 5

53.43 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 3of3 Body 8.9 22.0 Slip very pale brown sand 271-272

273

Table D-1. Continued Art Length Width Thick Faunal Metal Weight Surf Treat Photo Pot N E Notes Level Bag Type Surface Color Temper # (mm) (mm) (mm) # # (in g) Type # # 53.44 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 3of3 Rim 10.6 30.0 slip black sand 25-26 5

53.45 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 3of3 Handle 5.2 70.0 Slip/Stamped pale brown sand 273-274

53.46 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 3of3 Rim 3.5 56.0 Slip pink sand 273-274

53.47 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 3of3 Rim 11.8 99.0 slip black sand 29-30 6

53.48 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 3of3 Body 7.5 39.0 slip black sand 25-26 5

97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 Faunal 3 40.0

97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 Stones 31.0

97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv6 Faunal 1 26.0

53.49 97.0 103.0 ST2 Body 5.8 4.5 Slip very dark gray sand 273-274

53.50 97.0 103.0 ST2 Rim 24.1 106.0 Slip pinkish gray sand 273-274

53.51 97.0 103.0 ST2 Body 5.4 13.1 Slip pink sand 273-274

97.0 103.0 ST2 22.0

97.0 103.0 ST2 1 14.0

97.0 103.0 ST2 598.0

54.01 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv7 1of1 Body 9.6 13.4 Slip very pale brown sand 275-276

54.02 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv7 1of1 Handle 19.7 136.0 Slip very pale brown sand 275-276

54.03 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv7 1of1 Base 11.0 250.0 Slip very pale brown sand 275-276

55.01 97.0 103.0 ST 2 Lv8 Body 8.1 51.0 Slip pale brown sand 277-278

56.01 98.5 97.0 ST 3 Lv5 Z 7.9 1.7 Tin Glaze blue and white sand 279-280

Glass 12 12.6

274

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BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH

Robert Scott Hussey earned a double major in history and anthropology from the

University of Florida in 2000. He subsequently enrolled in the graduate program in anthropology at the University of Florida. Completed in 2005, his master’s research combined experimental archaeology and engineering to test a levering device that could have been used to build the

Egyptian pyramids. Finally, Scott received his Ph.D. from the University of Florida in the summer of 2017. For his doctoral project, he decided to pursue a topic closer to his Spanish roots and focused on the relations between Spain and North Africa during the Early Modern Period through the lens of Christian slavery in Morocco. Scott has 14 years of archaeological field experience in both the private and public sectors (Southeastern Archaeological Research

(SEARCH), United States Forest Service, Moroccan Ministry of Culture, Florida Museum of

Natural History, and University of Florida).

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