Although the general idea is that the Ottomans and Barbary corsairs limited their naval raids to the Mediterranean, this is a mistake, as ships and even entire fleets dared to pass through the Pillars of Hercules and sail into the Atlantic Ocean to attack not only the Canary Islands and Madeira but even the British coasts. Of all the raids carried out in those latitudes, perhaps the one that left the greatest impression was the so-called Sack of Baltimore, remembered in songs and poems.
Baltimore sounds familiar to us because it is the name of a city in the state of Maryland, USA, the respective birthplace and resting place of two greats of American literature, Dashiell Hammett and Edgar Allan Poe.
But the Baltimore we are concerned with today is the original, the European one, as the name comes from a town in County Cork, at the southern tip of Ireland. It is a small fishing village with fewer than four hundred inhabitants, which has gone down in history for the brutal sea assault it suffered in 1631.
The bucolic verses of the romantic poet Thomas Davis, in his work The Sack of Baltimore, give an idea of the peacefulness of life in that quiet corner, whose inhabitants least expected to see ships flying the red flag with the crescent moon appear on the horizon:
The summer sun is falling soft on Carbery’s hundred isles.
The summer sun is gleaming still through Gabriel’s rough defiles.
Old innisherkin’s crumbled fane looks like a moulting bird,
and in a calm and sleepy swell the ocean tide is heard.
The hookers lie upon the beach; the children cease their play,
the gossips leave the little inn and the household kneels to pray,
and full of love and peace and rest – its daily labour o’er –
upon that cosy creek there lay the town of Baltimore.
Ottomans expand westward
The Ottomans had been practically the masters of the Mediterranean – especially the eastern part – since the 14th century, in fierce competition with the Italian republics of Venice and Genoa, which tried to resist the effects of the collapse of the Byzantine Empire. But the Sublime Porte continued expanding its dominions: Trebizond, the Black Sea, the Balkans… Nothing seemed able to stop it, and consequently, they began an expansion westward, so the Adriatic and the Levantine coasts of Iberia began to suffer periodic attacks, which worsened when Sultan Selim took Algeria from the Mamluks and Suleiman the Magnificent did the same with Rhodes, seizing it from the Knights of St. John.
The Christian world united in a Holy League to confront them, but the military genius of Hayreddin Barbarossa and the assistance of the French King Francis I caused repeated failures until 1571, when the first victory was achieved at Lepanto. In practice, this was of little consequence because the Ottomans rebuilt their fleet in a matter of months and, besides retaining Crete, they launched themselves upon Tunis, taking control of almost the entire northern coast of Africa.
Meanwhile, they continued expanding their borders in the Indian Ocean and gobbling up the Portuguese colonies on the eastern part of that continent. But that cycle began to show signs of wear and tear starting in the 17th century due to internal causes, which Western countries took advantage of to shake off Muslim domination.
It was the corsair’s turn
Then it was the corsairs’ turn, who could act on their own and were more elusive because their actions did not follow strategic objectives but were driven by a simple thirst for riches. One of them was Murat Reis the Younger, the Islamic name adopted by the Dutch pirate Jan Janszoon van Haarlem after being captured by Barbary corsairs in Lanzarote and converting to their faith. As he was already engaged in piracy, he placed himself under the orders of Suleiman Reis and in 1619, after the latter’s death, even replaced him as leader of the famous Republic of Salé.
It was a small state that had gained independence from the Sultan of Morocco, which the Barbary corsairs used as a base, displacing the prominence that Algiers had previously enjoyed; somewhat in the style of what the Caribbean pirates had done on Tortuga Island first and later Nassau. Since it was on the Atlantic coast, Murat Reis organized several expeditions across that ocean. The one that interests us took place on June 30, 1631, the day when the inhabitants of Baltimore experienced the most terrifying dawn of their previously peaceful existence.
All, all asleep within each roof along that rocky street,
and these must be the lovers friends with gentle gliding feet.
A stifled gasp! A dreamy noise! “The roof is in aflame!”
From out their beds and to their doors rush maid and sire and dame,
and meet upon the threshold stone the gleaming sabres fall,
and o’er each black and bearded face a white or crimson shawl
The yell of “Allah” breaks above the prayer, and shriek, and roar,
Oh! Blessed God! The Algerine is Lord of Baltimore.
The yell of “Allah” breaks above the prayer, and shriek, and roar,
Oh! Blessed God! The Algerine is Lord of Baltimore.
Around five hundred British ships had been captured
In reality, British authorities were expecting an imminent raid, as it wasn’t the first they had suffered. As we mentioned earlier, those islands did not escape Berber greed and had already suffered previous incursions: in the first two decades of the century, around five hundred ships had been captured in those waters, and in 1625 a fleet ravaged the English coastal counties, looting them one after another. It was only a matter of time before something similar happened again, which is why they fortified what seemed like the most logical target, Kinsale; no one thought it would be anywhere else, and even less a modest place like Baltimore.
This later aroused suspicions, and rumors began to circulate about the support the attackers may have received from Catholics, which was ironic considering that a few decades earlier, the English had participated in Ottoman raids on the Canary Archipelago. This happened in 1587, during the war against Spain, and in that same year, Francis Drake carried out his decisive expedition against Cádiz, attempting to capture the Spanish treasure fleet near the Azores, while the Spanish Armada was being organized in Lisbon.
Now, in 1631, the tables had turned, and it was England’s turn to suffer at the hands of its former allies. And indeed, most of those affected in Baltimore weren’t Irish—though some were—but English settlers. Their presence in Cork had caused inevitable conflicts involving religious, political, and economic issues. For example, the town had been recently founded, in 1607, by the Englishman Sir Thomas Crooke, a Calvinist baronet who settled hundreds of colonists and co-religionists from his country there, much to the locals’ anger.
He wouldn’t have succeeded without the cooperation of Sir Fineen O’Driscoll, the local Gaelic lord, who had once been a staunch supporter of Queen Elizabeth I but was later convinced by his relatives to join the Irish cause during the Battle of Kinsale (when Juan del Águila’s Spanish troops landed in 1601 to take Cork and spark a rebellion on the island). His defeat led to his downfall, and to obtain a pardon, he agreed to Crooke’s plan. The colonists arrived, were granted lands along with a license for the booming sardine fishing industry, and Baltimore began to prosper.
Baltimore settlers were accused of profit from piracy
From the very beginning, there was suspicion in neighboring towns, accusing the Baltimore settlers of improving their living conditions by participating in the profits from piracy and smuggling that Crooke allegedly sponsored, taking advantage of the many coves along that coast. The accusation even reached King James I, who summoned him to court for prosecution; in the end, he was exonerated. Even today, the controversy among historians persists over whether he was guilty or not; in any case, the Crown, which believed he was, preferred to turn a blind eye so as not to disrupt the colony’s good progress, as it was in their interest to maintain that foothold in Ireland (after the Gunpowder Plot, the Crown had ended its tolerance towards Catholics).
Now then, the baronet had made powerful enemies, and the most prominent one was Sir Walter Coppinger, a distinguished lawyer and member of one of the most prominent families in Cork… and a Catholic. Being O’Driscoll’s brother-in-law, he believed he had rights over Baltimore, which made him openly hostile to the English settlers, who, on top of everything, were heretics. That legal conflict seemed to be resolved in 1610 through a three-way agreement by which the town was leased to the settlers for twenty-one years; but in practice, Coppinger continued pressuring them, and they kept denouncing him. The situation became entrenched for years until Crooke passed away in 1630.
Besides practicing law, Coppinger was also a moneylender and acted ruthlessly toward those who couldn’t repay the loans, being a creditor to many people; that’s why he wasn’t exactly popular. When O’Driscoll and Crooke died in a short span of time (1629 and 1630 respectively), Coppinger finally found himself free to gain effective control over Baltimore. With all of this, it’s no surprise that many believed the pirate attack the following year happened with his approval. The O’Driscoll family was also accused, having fled to Spain after the defeat at Kinsale.
The truth is, Murat Reis didn’t need any backers. He personally led the raid, the largest carried out on British soil to date. Under his command was a diverse crew of two hundred men, including Algerian and Ottoman pirates, but also Moroccans; even Dutchmen who had previously sailed with him. This, along with the fact that they forced John Hackett, a fisherman they captured along the way, to serve as their guide in exchange for his freedom (and who ended up hanging from a noose at the hands of the authorities for collaborating with the enemy by convincing Murat that it would be easier to take Baltimore), reinforced the feeling of an inside betrayal.
The pirate raid was devastating, with 200 people captured as slaves
It was a way to psychologically explain how Ireland, and therefore England, were more vulnerable to external attacks than previously believed, despite the propaganda spread after the failure of the Spanish Armada. And the pirate raid was devastating. The town was sacked, and after being set on fire, one to two hundred of its residents, mostly English but also some Irish (though it was said the latter were freed by Murat’s orders), were captured to be sold as slaves; only three (one rescued in extremis and the other two in 1646) would return to Ireland, with the rest remaining in Algiers, the men forced into hard labor or the galleys, and the women into harems. By the end of the century, there would be between seven and nine thousand British slaves in Barbary, though they were a minority compared to those from other countries.
They only found the smoking walls, with neighbor’s blood besprint
and on the strewed and trampled beach awhile they wildly went
then dashed to sea and passed Cape Clear and saw five leagues before
the pirate galleys vanished, that ravished Baltimore.
Oh! Some must tug the galleys oar and some must tend the steed.
This boy will bear a sheik’s chibouk; and that a bey’s jeered.
Oh! Some are for the arsenals by beauteous Dardenelles.
And some are in the caravans to Mecca’s sandy dells.
The maid that Bandon gallant sought is chosen for the Dey.
It should be noted that Murat Reis continued his raids in those waters, taking over the island of Lundy in the Bristol Channel (which separates England and Wales), where he established a base for further raids in that region (which affected the coasts of Great Britain, Iceland, Scandinavia, and Denmark, as well as almost defenseless archipelagos like the Shetland, Faroe, and Vestman islands), as well as a meeting point for the captured slaves, estimated at between four hundred and eight hundred on that trip alone. It was such a good location that, when the Muslims eventually left Lundy, pirates of other nationalities reused it.
The survivors left their devastated town and settled in nearby Skibbereen, a town located several kilometers inland and, therefore, safer than Baltimore, which remained abandoned for decades. In the 18th century, under very different circumstances, the town began to be repopulated, slowly recovering its economic development until 1845 when ruin struck again due to the Great Famine (ironically, the Ottoman Empire was the first to send aid). However, the memory of that traumatic episode endured, and today there are still references to it in songs, poems, and the names of pubs.
This article was first published on our Spanish Edition on November 10, 2018: El saqueo de la localidad irlandesa de Baltimore por corsarios berberiscos en 1631
SOURCES
Des Ekin, The Stolen Village: Baltimore and the Barbary Pirates
Peter Lamborn Wilson, Pirate Utopias: Moorish Corsairs & European Renegadoes
Thomas Davis, The Poems of Thomas Davis
Fernand Braudel, El Mediterráneo y el mundo mediterráneo en la época de Felipe II
Robert Davis, British Slaves on the Barbary Coast
Wikipedia, Saqueo de Baltimore
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