Linda Colley has written a biography of an English woman whose life crossed many cultural and geographical boundaries. It is a book that the author of Moll Flanders would have loved to write.

Elizabeth Marsh would not have been of interest to historians had her life not reflected the British imperialism that ruled the waves from the second half of the eighteenth century on. Nor would she have deserved a full-length study, “unsophisticated but not unperceptive woman” (xxxi) that she was, had she not left behind writings unique in their originality and detail. For Colley, Marsh was important not only as a venturesome, defiant, and articulate woman but also as a representative of the new generation of Britons involved in “transoceanic and transcontinental commerce” (xxiii). In the “fortunes and misfortunes” (as in Moll Flanders) of this woman, we see the impact of Britain's intrusion through its navy into every corner of the globe. With extensive research conducted in every region where Elizabeth Marsh went, and with a sweeping command of social, political, and commercial history, Colley presents a rich tapestry of the world of the eighteenth century.

Elizabeth Marsh was born in the busy port of Portsmouth on 3 October 1735 after her parents had fled Jamaica because of a Maroon uprising. Did she have mulatto blood in her? Professor Colley intriguingly raises this question, but, in the absence of any painting of Elizabeth, she is unable to answer it. Elizabeth grew up in a family of seamen and tradesmen, and in 1755, after her father was promoted to naval officer, the Marshes moved to Menorca and a year later fled to Gibraltar after the island was invaded by France. She left her parents in Gibraltar in July 1756, and, as she was sailing back home, her ship was attacked by Moroccan pirates. Elizabeth was taken captive to Meknas, where she remained until the end of November. The story of her captivity, which she wrote and published anonymously in London in 1769 as The Female Captive, is unique in English, being the first account by a woman of captivity in North Africa. Within half a century, there would be many more accounts mixing, as always, fiction with reality. But as Colley shows by situating it within contemporary Moroccan history, Elizabeth's account was accurate and unencumbered by fantasy.

Upon her release and return to England, Elizabeth married James Crisp, who had been with her in Morocco, and, as Professor Colley puts it, “was caught up again in the flux of transcontinental events and contacts. Slavery, the sea, empire, war and the ambitions of contending states had brought her into being and shaped her experiences across three continents” (89)—America, Europe, and North Africa. Although not much is known about her life after her return, her husband's commercial activities provide information about the trade in silk and slaves, wine, brandy, salt, and tea, with which she became familiar. Crisp also joined in an enterprise to acquire property in Florida, but as his business failed, he set out without Elizabeth or their children to Bengal and Madras to recoup his fortunes. Colley carefully and sensitively turns to The Female Captive, which Elizabeth published a few months after her husband's departure, to explore the emotional and psychological state of the deserted wife. The account of captivity reflected her desperation and sense of desertion.

In August 1770, and in the company of her daughter, Elizabeth set sail to India. Colley dedicates the rest of her study to this daring deed and to the colonies of expatriates living in the trading centers of India. In 1771, “only eighty-five women and children classified as European were listed as residing there” (164). In December 1774, at thirty-nine years of age, Elizabeth started on her travels from Dkaka to Calcutta to Madras, sailing the western coast of India—a region under East India Company military and political hegemony. Her travels, conducted without her husband and in the company of a family friend, Captain George Smith, extended for eighteenth months, during which time she kept a diary. Colley traces the changes in Elizabeth's personality in India: the young Englishwoman no longer invoked the Bible or the Book of Common Prayer in her reflections, nor did she object to spending time in locations where Company troops were stationed. She was not unwilling to defy custom and social convention, taking interest in local culture and community, religion, and landscape. She returned to Calcutta in June 1776, traveled back to England a year or so later, and then sailed back to Madras in November 1779 to find that her husband had died. Five years later, she fell ill, underwent painful surgery, and died in the spring of 1785. She was buried in Calcutta.

The Ordeal of Elizabeth Marsh is rich in detail, derived from Colley's extensive archival research as well as personal observation. The numerous illustrations and reproductions reflect the vast sweep of the experience of the heroine: maps, slaves, portraits of family members, family trees, landscapes and seascapes, cartoons, and aerial photographs (of the spot of land in Florida in which Crisp had invested). Colley is at her best when she focuses on Elizabeth's accounts and situates them in their historical, geographical, and global contexts. Elsewhere, the book provides a survey of the global markets that were evolving in the wake of the consolidation of British imperial hegemony over the seas. Having studied various aspects of the development of the British Empire in her earlier books, Colley now revisits the expanse, complexity, cruelty, wealth, and commerce of the Empire through the eyes of a “female Candide.”