Barbary Corsair

One early corsair, Michele da Malta, started by helping the Knights of St John, who were then based on the island of Rhodes, but later turned against them, raiding Christian ships. After capturing a ship belonging to the Knights, they sent a galley to hunt him down. Michele was killed in battle in 1467. However, just over a decade later, in 1480, during the first siege of Rhodes by the Ottomans, the Order of St John asked the Maltese corsairs for help.

The Knights of St John and a New Era of Corsairing

When the exiled Order of St John arrived in Malta in 1530, the Knights, warriors of a religious order, found a perfect base to continue their struggle against Muslim powers. The port cities and villages of Birgu, Bormla, Isla, and Kalkara, around the Grand Harbour, became the heartbeat of Malta’s corsairing world. In his research, Stanley Fiorini describes how some wealthy Rhodiots (people from Rhodes), accompanying the Knights of St John, teamed up with Maltese nobles and well-known Maltese families who owned ships (called padroni) to build and arm ships for corsairing. One of these sailors was Nicolaus Farrugia, who worked as the pilot of a bireme, a type of galley with 15 rows of benches for the rowers. This ship belonged to a man called Correo Manoli, and it had once been bought from a woman named Isolda Burlò from Birgu. The Burlò brothers, together with the Calamias family, also owned a 16-bench fusta (ship) called Sta Caterina. Another captain, Didacus Habela, commanded a smaller brigantine with 12 benches, ready for action on the seas.

In the early years of the Order’s stay in Malta, the shores of North Africa and the Ottoman Empire boasted fearsome leaders like Barbarossa, Dragut, and Occhiali. Malta, however, was not easily intimidated. It answered their challenge with its own champions — Grand Master de Valette, the daring Fra Mathurin Lescaut (better known as Romegas), and the successful Maltese corsiars Paolo Micciolo and Martin Mula.

Life of a Corsair

Corsairing was a job — a risky but potentially very profitable one. Captains needed a letter of marque (official permit) from the Grand Master to raid enemy ships legally. Investors (including women) put up money to arm the ships, hire crews, and supply food and weapons. The profits from captured ships and goods were shared among the investors, the captain, and the crew. Upon returning to Malta, corsairs were bound by a religious duty set by law in 1583: each vessel was required to donate five percent of its profits to the cloistered nuns of St Ursula’s convent in Valletta. Another act of devotion awaited them as well — before setting sail again, the captain was expected to pay three scudi for a blessing of the ship, seeking divine protection for the next voyage. Corsair ships ranged from small, swift xebecs to larger galleots with up to 22 cannons. These ships chased Muslim merchants across the Mediterranean, capturing cargoes of luxury goods such as spices, silk, and coffee, as well as slaves. Captured men, women, and children were also sold at public auctions in Malta.

Grand Master Alof de Wignacourt

France, eager to protect its trading interests with the Ottomans, pressured the Grand Master to restrict corsairing. The Grand Master had no choice but to agree, because a large part of the Order’s income came from estates in France — and many of the knights were French. Even so, the corso continued to be a major industry. During the era of the Knights of St John, corsairing in Malta flourished under three distinct banners: First, there were the private corsairs — daring Maltese and foreign adventurers, hailing from Italy, France, and even Spain, who secured a prized license to fly the Order’s flag and hunt enemy ships on the high seas. Then came the knightly shipowners — wealthy knights who poured their fortunes into outfitting their own vessels and galleons. Even Grand Masters like Cardinal Hugh Loubenx de Verdalle (1582–1595) and Alof de Wignacourt  (1601–1622), who owned and outfitted their own vessels or galleons, turned to corsairing to stake their claim on the Mediterranean’s fortunes. Finally, there was the might of the Order’s galley squadron itself — an official navy that sailed forth each year, leading daring campaigns against Muslim shipping and harrying the coastal towns of North Africa. Corsairing wasn’t just tolerated in Malta. It was an institution — woven into the very fabric of the island’s life, economy, and myth.

Some well-known corsairs from Isla and Bormla

Leopoldo Desira, the son of Tomaso Desira, was born in Malta and lived in Isla, where he married Teresa, the daughter of Giovanni Ciarli, also from Isla. In 1780, Leopoldo claimed he had been corsairing since 1764. That same year, he faced a serious challenge: while sailing a recently captured ship from Alexandria back to Malta, a violent storm destroyed the ship’s rudder. As panic spread among his desperate crew — some even signaling a nearby Venetian ship for help — Leopoldo took charge. He ordered his men to build a special steering device, and thanks to their efforts, they managed to sail the damaged ship back to Malta after 18 long days at sea. Captain Giovanni Gera had his own adventures. Born in Tunis on September 17, 1755, to parents from Isla, he started young — at 22, he was already serving as a clerk aboard the xebec of the famous corsair Captain Giulermo Lorenzi. By 1790, Gera was in command of his first ship, the La Vittoria. A year later, while sailing near Crete on a captured ship, he spotted a Turkish frigate. Most of his crew were sick with fever, so fighting was out of the question. Instead, Gera came up with a clever plan: he had a triangular wooden frame built, attached a lantern to it, and set it afloat at night. Then, he doused the lights on his ship and quietly changed course back to Malta. The Turkish frigate took the bait and chased the floating light, letting Gera escape. Sadly, Gera died young, passing away in 1796 in tragic circumstances on the Strofades Islands in Greece at the age of 41.

Pietro de Giovanni Zelalich, born in Kotor, Montenegro, had one of the most dramatic stories. He began his career aboard an English privateer but was captured and enslaved on the Corona Ottomana, one of the grandest ships in the Ottoman Navy. Armed only with knives, Zelalich led a mutiny, seized control of the ship, and sailed it to Malta. Over his career, he captured 348 slaves on his own and another 181 while working with other corsairs. Despite surviving a mutiny against him and facing serious accusations of blasphemy and misconduct, Zelalich built a name for himself and died in Isla on December 10, 1811.

Another corsair from Kotor was Captain Giorgio Mitrovich, who also settled in Isla. He lived a long life, dying at the age of 80 in 1810. Mitrovich had 11 sons, many of whom followed him into the dangerous world of corsairing. His son Giacomo was awarded a gold medal by Grand Master de Rohan in 1796 for a victory against a Barbary galleot.

The dangers corsairs faced weren’t just storms and sickness. Capture or death at the hands of enemy forces was a constant threat. Gregorio Cassar and Salvatore Antonio Giurme, both from Bormla, were captured and sold into slavery.

Gregorio, a cooper and turner by trade, had joined Captain Giovanetto’s ship. While repairing barrels at a Tunisian port, they were ambushed by locals. Gregorio, married to a Maltese woman named Catarina and father to a son, Paolo, was sold to the Bey of Tripoli. Forced to abandon his faith, he later married a local woman, Maimuma, and had two children. After 14 years, with the help of Franciscan monks in Tripoli, Gregorio hatched an escape plan. Though one of his sons was caught, Gregorio and his eldest son managed to hide aboard a ship and returned to Malta after 43 years away.

 Pietro de Giovanni Zelalich

Salvatore Antonio Giurme’s story is equally gripping. Born in 1748 and left fatherless, Salvatore signed on with a Neapolitan martegana — a merchant ship — flying the Maltese flag, carrying wine between Malta and Scoglitti. When a Turkish corsair captured the ship, Salvatore was enslaved and taken to Tripoli, where he was beaten until he renounced Christianity and converted to Islam. Renamed Rais Sciaban, he married a local woman and had two sons. Although he tried several times to escape, he failed. Eventually, he became a corsair himself, though he always secretly helped Christian prisoners to escape. In 1780, he allowed himself to be captured by the Hospitaller frigate Santa Maria del Pilar and returned to Malta, where he asked the Inquisitor Zondadori to forgive him for abandoning his faith.

The End of the Golden Age

With the decline of the Ottoman Empire corsairing became less lucrative. France and Britain put increasing pressure on Malta to stop attacking their trading partners. In 1798, after the Knights were expelled, some corsairs exchanged the Order’s flag for that of the French whom they supported, others joined the Maltese in the uprising against the French.

 An English Ship in Action with Barbary Corsairs, circa 1680 by Velde, Willem van de, the Younger

A special pirate court, the ‘Court of Oyer and Terminer,’ was set up in 1815. Captured pirates faced hanging or exile to Australia. Yet just a few months before on Elba, Napoleon was worried about being abducted by ‘Maltese Pirates!’

A Proud Legacy

Today, the Cottonera cities remain proud of their corsairing past. The strong walls of Fort St Angelo, Fort St Michael, and the streets of Birgu, Bormla, Senglea, and Kalkara still echo with stories of brave captains, daring raids, fierce sea battles, and the hopes and dreams of generations who lived by the sea.

Malta’s corsairs were not pirates in the usual sense. They were men (and women) who sailed under law, seeking fortune, freedom, and adventure on the high seas. Their stories are part of Malta’s soul, a reminder of a time when a tiny island defied empires and sailed into legend.