Eyal GINIO PIRACY AND REDEMPTION IN THE AEGEAN SEA DURING THE FIRST HALF OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY I n 1725 Yanaki veled Manuel, a Greek owner of a small vessel, submitted a claim in the ≥eriat court of Salonica against the man who was in charge of the local Muslim treasury (beytülmal). Manuel argued that he had been sailing his ship along the Kassandra peninsula close to Salonica when he and his crew had been forced suddenly to abandon the vessel as they feared that an attack by pirates (korsan) was imminent. The deserted vessel was then driven by the fierce winds along the coast to a place where it was found by the agents of the Muslim treasury. Assuming that its owner was unknown, the agents confiscated the vessel1. This short episode, which resulted in the recovery of the lost vessel, shows that piracy was still perceived as a genuine menace during the first half of the eighteenth century, a period that is generally considered to be the final phase of the notorious corso in the Mediterranean2. The Eyal Ginio teaches at the Department of Islamic and Middle Eastern Studies, The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Jerusalem 91905, Israël (e-mail∞: eginio@mscc.huji.ac.il) * This article was written while I was a scholar of the Skilliter Centre for Ottoman Studies, Newnham College, Cambridge. I would like to thank the Centre for its generous grant in support of my research. 1 Sicil [Thessaloniki] TH/IER vol. 36, p. 61 [hereafter sicil 36/61], 16 Safer 1138/ 1725. 2 On piracy in the Mediterranean during the eighteenth century, see∞: Gonçal López NADAL, “Mediterranean Privateering between the Treaties of Utrecht and Paris, 17151856∞: First Reflections”, in David J. STARKEY, E.S. van EYCK van HESLINGA and J.A. de Turcica, 33, 2001, pp. 135-147 135 136 EYAL GINIO presence of pirates was not limited, evidently, to legal arguments raised in court∞; their ominous presence in the immediate vicinity of Salonica is well documented in the records of the sicil, the archives of the local kadı. Thus, for example, a report compiled by the governor of Salonica in 1716 warns of two pirate war ships (kalyun)3 active near the shores of Salonica and Kassandra where they loitered (ge≥t ü güzar) along the coast in order to cause and spread havoc (isal-i mazarrat)4. Svoronos, who relies to a large extent on French consular reports, describes piracy as a consistent threat to maritime traffic in the Aegean. This danger continued to jeopardize the lucrative French commerce in this region during the eighteenth century5. Indeed Christian, and especially Maltese, piracy continued to haunt the popular imagination of eighteenth century Ottomans. We gain an insight into the world of ordinary Ottomans through records of popular entertainment. Özdemir Nuktu shows the threatening presence of the Maltese pirates in eighteenth century Meddah stories. This popular form of entertainment prevailed in the urban milieu and was inspired by scenes of everyday life from Ottoman cities, interwoven with historical events and motifs from classical stories. Most of the surviving texts of these stories are summarized outlines intended to serve as an aid to the storytellers. The narrator had to improvise the full scenario according to his own talents and creativity6. Capture by Maltese pirates is indeed one of the historical events that recur in these texts, and it is one of the episodes that exemplify the ‘characteristic panorama of the eighteenth century’7. MOOR (eds.), Pirates and Privateers — New Perspectives on the War on Trade in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth Centuries, Exeter, 1997, p. 107-125. This article includes in its notes a detailed bibliography on piracy in the Mediterranean. 3 On this type of ship, see Idris BOSTAN, Osmanlı Bahriye Te≥kilâtı∞: XVII. Yüzyılda Tersâne-i Âmire, Ankara, 1992, p. 94-95. 4 Sicil 26/163, evahir-i Safer 1128/1716. 5 N.G. SVORONOS, Le commerce de Salonique au XVIIIe siècle, Paris, 1956, p. 125-135. On piracy along the Macedonian shores, see also John K. VASDRAVELLIS, Klephts Armatoles and Pirates in Macedonia during the Rule of the Turks (1627-1821), Thessaloniki, 1975, p. 76-103∞; Richard CLOGG, The Movement for Greek Independence 1770-1821. A Collection of Documents, London, 1976, p. 73-77. 6 P.N. BORATAV, “Maddah”, Encyclopedia of Islam2, p. 951-953. 7 Özdemir NUKTU, “Original Turkish Meddah Stories of the Eighteenth Century”, in Ilhan BA≥GÖZ and Mark GLAZER (eds.), Studies in Turkish Folklore in Honor of Pertev N. Boratav, Bloomington (IN.), 1978, p. 168. See for example the story of ‘Hazinedâr Ahmed Aga Yusuf Bâ Attarzâde’, in which the hero is taken prisoner by Maltese pirates∞: id., Meddahlık ve Meddah Hîkâyetleri, Istanbul, 1976, p. 83-85. PIRACY AND REDEMPTION IN THE AEGEAN SEA The threat of the Maltese pirates was tangible to the Ottoman audience. It incorporated the appalling experience of abduction at sea and the subsequent long years of enslavement in the hands of the Christians. This paper aims to explore the ≥eriat court records of Salonica to delineate the peril of piracy during the first half of the eighteenth century and to understand the process of ransoming Muslim captives from their captors’ hands during that period. PIRACY IN THE AEGEAN SEA — THE EVIDENCE OF THE ≤ERIAT COURT RECORDS (SICIL) The sicil, the records of the local ≥eriat court, is virtually the only prenineteenth century archive from Ottoman Salonica that has survived from the end of the seventeenth century onwards. The records comprise various types of documents∞: formal edicts issued by the central authorities in Istanbul, as well as local lawsuits and notarial registrations that present the needs and demands of the local population. As the local kadı’s responsibilities touched upon every sphere of local life, the sicil documents disclose the matrix of everyday life in this major Ottoman port-city as it was perceived and described by the local court scribes8. Among the thousands of sicil documents from the year 1694 to 1768 I found a small number of documents that delineate, in legal and summary terms, contemporary piracy and the ordeal of those Muslims who fell prey to pirates. The Aegean Sea certainly offered a promising hunting ground for the pirates. It served one of the most significant and valuable maritime routes in the Mediterranean basin∞: that which connected the core area of the Ottoman state — Istanbul, western Anatolia and the Balkans — with the holy cities of Hijaz, the bustling ports of Egypt, and other Mediterranean ports. Consequently, this route was frequented by merchants plying the waters with lucrative cargoes, as well as by pilgrims on their way to Mecca and Medina. Furthermore, the Aegean, with its innumerable bays and islands, provided the pirates with ideal sheltered coves in which to lurk concealed, as well as with perfect locations at which to ambush passing merchant ships. During the first half of the eighteenth century, these disruptive pirates did not hesitate to prowl even in the 8 On the Ottoman sicil see Suraiya FAROQHI, “sidjill — in Ottoman Administrative Usage”, in Encyclopedia of Islam2, p. 539-545. 137 138 EYAL GINIO vicinity of the harbour of Salonica itself. Sometimes they could rely on the fruitful co-operation of locals∞: ostensibly innocent and peaceful nearby villagers, for example, informed the pirates of approaching ships carrying cargoes of lucrative merchandise9. In other cases villagers offered the pirates provisions and shelter. One edict mentions, for instance, Christian pirates who made the adjacent village of Aya Nikola their permanent base, from which they used to prey on merchant vessels approaching the port of Salonica10. One case, recorded in the sicil, describes in detail a pirates’ attack. In this case, the pirates were Muslims from distant Tunis, one of the major centres of Barbary piracy in the Mediterranean. This attack clearly demonstrates the difficulty faced by the Ottoman authorities when they were trying to keep in check pirates who were ostensibly submissive to the Ottomans’ bidding11. The Tunisian pirates assaulted a Venetian ship near the island of Sakız (Chios). The aggressors numbered two hundred armed men, while their ship was heavily equipped with thirty cannon. They strove for four hours to take control of the Venetian ship, but in vain∞; the Venetian sailors repeatedly succeeded in resisting the aggressors and in repelling their assaults. Finally, the Venetian ship managed to escape and to find a safe haven in the relatively distant island of Istanköy (Kos). The exhausted sailors went ashore to repair the damage and to take on provisions. However, they soon discovered that their attackers had followed them ashore. The court scribe described the pirates as then determined to kill every last Venetian sailor. Nevertheless, the Venetians were finally able to make their escape. Their ordeal was reported to the Sublime Porte by the Venetian ambassador to Istanbul. Subsequently, the Sultan issued an edict that repeated his ban on piracy against Venetian vessels on the basis of an accord that had earlier been signed between the two states12. The Ottoman authorities hammered away at the problem of piracy, as is well documented in the sicil. Nevertheless, they did not attempt, or were unable, to suppress piracy altogether by pursuing the pirates into their lairs. The Ottomans rather endeavoured to mitigate or to escape the Sicil 25/35, 28 Receb 1127/1715. Sicil 26/163, evahir-i Safar 1128/1716. 11 On Tunisian piracy, see Boubaker SADAK, La régence de Tunis au XVIIe siècle∞: ses relations commerciales avec les ports de l’Europe méditerranéenne, Marseille et Livourne, Zaghouan, 1987, p. 43-69∞; Paul SABEG, Tunis au XVIIe siècle∞: une cité barbaresque au temps de la course, Paris, 1989, p. 89-119. 12 Sicil 74/47, evasit-i Cemaziyel‘ahır 1162/1749. 9 10 PIRACY AND REDEMPTION IN THE AEGEAN SEA destructive effects of piracy by initiating a number of defensive countermeasures against pirates’ incursions. These defensive measures were implemented ashore or close inshore. Frigates patrolled the coast in search of the elusive pirates, at times themselves falling prey to them13 and forts constructed in piracy-ridden areas were provided with cannon and permanent military garrisons14. Villagers who co-operated with the pirates were heavily punished. In one case the court summoned all the agents of the villagers who lived on the Kassandra peninsula and ruled that the villagers were to recompense the owner of a tobacco shipment looted by pirates, it having been proved in court that one of the villagers had informed the pirates about this valuable cargo. As the informer himself later escaped, it was his fellow-villagers who had to endure the punishment15. Another measure against piracy was an interdiction on the construction of vessels that were not able to match the speed of the pirate ships. The justification that was put forward for so wide-ranging a prohibition referred to the threat posed by the pirates to the vital commerce with Egypt16. Finally, the authorities did not hesitate to detain suspect vessels upon their arrival in the port of Salonica. In one case the governor of Salonica ordered the seizure of a French ship that had anchored in the harbour. It was strongly believed (agleb-i ihtimal oldugundan) that this apparent merchant ship was in reality a pirate vessel that had threatened maritime traffic in the area over a long period. After a thorough search the Ottoman authorities believed that their suspicions had been confirmed∞: a large quantity of guns and gun powder, which had been carefully hidden away inside the ship, betrayed the ship’s true identity as a pirate vessel. Its crew of thirty-seven sailors was imprisoned and the ship and its contents were confiscated. Even the efforts of the local French consul to secure the release of the ship and its crew, on the grounds that it was an innocent merchant ship from Marseilles trafficking in tobacco, were unsuccessful. Only the intervention of the French ambassador to Istanbul finally brought about their release17. Sicil 7/123, 11 Zilkade 1111/1700. Sicil 15/148, 13 ≤aban 1118/1706. 15 Sicil 25/35, 28 Receb 1127/1715. 16 Sicil 30/34, 23 Safer 1131/1719. 17 Sicil 26/163, evahir-i Safer 1128/1716∞; 26/194, 21 Rebiülahir 1128/1716∞; 26/204, evasit-i Rebiülahir 1128/1716. On this episode from the French point of view, see∞: SVORONOS, op. cit., p. 24-25. 13 14 139 140 EYAL GINIO The pirates targeted cargo, vessels and passengers alike. They were in the habit of selling the cargo at the first opportunity. However, the vessel and the passengers could also prove to be profitable investments, as in both cases considerable gain could be achieved through the selling or the holding to ransom of the captives and the ships. To that end, the captives were taken by force to the pirates’ safe havens where they waited for their fate to be determined. Only a few autobiographical accounts by captives survive to tell us of the captives’ ordeals. One example is the memoirs of the seventeenth century poet Hüseyin bin Mehmed, who used the pseudonym ‘Esiri’ (‘the captive’). He was captured in 1625 by Maltese pirates and later imprisoned in the Sicilian city of Misine (Messina). In his work, Esiri described his captivity, the torment of his imprisonment, his desperate attempts to escape and his eventual ransoming18. The sicil provides us with additional details that enrich our information about the captives’ destinies. THE RANSOMING OF MUSLIM CAPTIVES The history of the ransoming of captives is as long as the history of war itself. From the Islamic point of view captives taken at sea are regarded in the same way as other prisoners of war, both groups being defined as ‘captives’ (asir). From the beginning of Islam, the redemption of Muslim captives was treated in treatises on war as a duty incumbent upon the Muslim community19. Van Koningsveld, writing on the fate of Muslim captives during the late Middle Ages, shows that at the beginning of the ninth century redemption became an important aspect of the Muslim-Christian relationship in the Mediterranean, a genuine concern that raised important political, administrative and judicial issues. From that period, European rulers chose to stop executing Muslim prisoners and to treat them as slaves instead, or else as a profitable investment to be recouped through ransom. With the expansion of the reconquista, redemption became more and more widespread as a growing number of Muslim captives fell into Christian hands in the Iberian peninsula, in 18 Günay KUT, “Esiri, His “Sergüze≥t” and Other Works”, Journal of Turkish Studies, X, 1986, p. 235-244. 19 For a detailed description of the legal features involving redemption in Islamic law, see G. CIPOLLONE, Cristinità-Islam — Cattività e Liberazione in nome di Dio∞: Il tempo di Innocenzo dopo ‘il 1187’, Rome, 1992, p. 296-324. PIRACY AND REDEMPTION IN THE AEGEAN SEA Italy and in the south of France as well as in Sicily and the Balearic Islands. As captives were subject to forced conversion, assimilation and slavery, ransoming them became a critical issue, and was considered an obligation on the Muslim community. Van Koningsveld demonstrates that the liberation of Muslim captives evolved into an affair of state in Andalusia. When in need of financial assistance one could turn to the public treasury∞; the rulers, for their part, were supposed to exchange their christian captives in order to redeem Muslims. The redemption of Muslims became so much of an everyday reality in medieval Andalusia that local jurists inserted a special standard form of redemption deed into their books of legal exemplars20. The Andalusian communities showed their concern by collectively gathering the requested ransom-money, and by establishing pious endowments that were explicitly designated for this end. Individuals made use of their legal right to bequeath a third of their estates to finance the redemption of their captive co-religionists21. In a similar way, special associations for the redemption of Jewish captives (pidiyon shevuim) were established with the same purpose in the major ports of the Mediterranean. Eliezer Bashan shows that the need to ransom Jewish travellers increased during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries owing to the growing incidence of Algerian and Maltese piracy in the Mediterranean. The main Jewish congregation that dealt with ransoming was the Venetian one. They used regularly to employ a Christian agent who lived in Malta. His mission was to check for Jewish prisoners on all ships arriving in the Maltese harbour and then to contact their families in order to gather the ransom money. The Maltese authorities assisted the agent, as they regarded ransoms as an important source of revenue22. Parallel associations also existed in the Christian West. The Mercedarian religious order, for example, was established in Christian Catalonia to procure ransoms and to liberate Christian captives abducted by Muslim pirates23. 20 P.S. van KONINGSVELD, “Muslim Slaves and Captives in Western Europe during the Late Middle Ages”, Islam and Christian-Muslim Relations, VI, 1995, p. 5-6. 21 Manuela MARIN and Rachid EL-HOUR, “Captives, Children and Conversion∞: A Case from Late Nasrid Granada”, Journal of the Economic and Social History of the Orient, XLI/4, 1998, p. 454-460. 22 Eliezer BASHAN, Captivity and Ransom in Mediterranean Jewish Society (13911830), Ramat-Gan, 1980, p. 109-135 [in Hebrew]. 23 On this redemptorist order, see James William BROADMAN, Ransoming Captives in Crusader Spain – The Order of Merced on the Christian-Islamic Frontier, Philadelphia, 1986. 141 142 EYAL GINIO Remarkably, I did not come across any reference to any similar associations or pious endowments that were designated for this end in Ottoman Salonica. It appears that one of the clearest features of redemption during the eighteenth century was the part played in it by private initiative, the captives themselves or their relatives or acquaintances organising the ransoming. The state, or the Salonican community, was essentially absent from the liberation of Ottoman captives. Evidence for the existence of endowments in favour of Muslim captives comes mainly from the fringes of the Ottoman state, for example from Ottoman Algiers. Miriam Hoexter, who describes the evolution of the waqf alharamayn during the Ottoman centuries in Algiers, mentions that this enormous foundation brought under its wing endowments that were designated — inter alia — for the redemption of Muslim captives. However, as she did not find any reference to the foundation’s participation in the redemption process, she assumes that the provincial government played the principal role in the ransom of captives. Indeed, the local authorities assigned some of the booty taken from Christian ships to this end24. Can we assume that the Algerian exception stems from the fact that the grim Andalusian precedent lived on in the memory of the North Africans∞? Or is it a reflection of the relative profusion of captivity cases in Algiers, at least when compared with those in other parts of the Ottoman state∞? Nicolas Vatin indeed argues that the Ottoman state did not regard the ransom of its captured subjects as one of its major obligations. The Ottoman sultans limited themselves to including explicit clauses against piracy in all peace accords (´ahdname) that were signed with European states. These clauses secured the redemption of Muslim captives and utterly prohibited piracy25. A similar picture is painted by the Salonican documents∞: generally speaking, only in cases of piracy by or against friendly states was dealing with redemption promoted to an affair of state, as was illustrated above in the Ottoman concern to put an end to attacks made by Muslim pirates on Venetian ships. One peace accord, which was fully registered in the sicil of Salonica in 1728, is the 24 Miriam HOEXTER, Endowments, Rulers and Community. Waqf al-Haramayn in Ottoman Algiers, Leiden, 1998, p. 158, n. 62. 25 Nicolas VATIN, “Note sur l’attitude des sultans ottomans et de leurs sujets face à la captivité des leurs en terre chrétienne (fin XVe-XVIe siècle)”, Wiener Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes, LXXXII, 1992, p. 375-395∞; id., “Deux documents sur la libération de musulmans captifs chez les Francs (1573)”, Wiener Zeitschrift für die Kunde des Morgenlandes, LXXXIII, 1993, p. 223-232. PIRACY AND REDEMPTION IN THE AEGEAN SEA peace treaty that was concluded between the Ottomans and the governors (hâkim) of the seven provinces (vilâyet) of the Dutch Republic and the governor of the Dutch East Indies (Indonesia). The accord includes specific clauses that require both parties to release all prisoners of war and to prevent any future attacks. The treaty was not a new one∞; the central authorities ordered the Salonica kadı to register the agreement again as it had been violated several times by both sides. Interestingly, some of the violations were related to piracy∞: the edict mentioned that Dutch merchants had been taken prisoner, in contravention of the treaty, since they had been travelling on military ships and pirate ships that belonged to hostile states26. When such reciprocal treaties did not exist — for example in the case of the Ottoman relationship with the knights of Malta, the socalled ‘boulevard de la Chrétienté’27 — redemption was mostly secured by private enterprise. Generally speaking, captives had to rely overwhelmingly on their own efforts. Recapturing lost ships was apparently a relatively smooth and quick mission. If the ship-owner had succeeded in escaping from the ship, the ransoming of the vessel was carried out on the spot, immediately following the seizure. The ship-owner would pay the ransom through the mediation of some Christian captain whom the despairing ship-owner had come across by chance. Thus, as an example, a Muslim captain had succeeded, together with another twenty-five passengers, in escaping in a small boat from his captured ship. He later asked a French captain of a passing ship to convey the ransom to the pirates and subsequently to recover his lost ship. The remaining fifteen wretched Muslim passengers, who had stayed on the ship, were left in the lurch28. 26 Sicil 41/65, evail-i Ramazan 1140/1728. The first capitulations accord between the Ottomans and the Dutch Republic was concluded in 1612, see A.H. de GROOT, The Ottoman Empire and the Dutch Republic — A History of the Earliest Diplomatic Relations 1610-1630, Leiden and Istanbul, 1978, p. 114-125. 27 On the Maltese corso, see Michel FONTENAY, “Corsaires de la foi ou rentiers du sol∞? Les Chevaliers de Malte dans le corso méditerranéen au XVIIe siècle”, Revue d’histoire moderne et contemporaine, XXXV, 1988, p. 361-384∞; Alain BLAONDY, “L’ordre de Saint-Jean et l’essor économique de Malte 1530-1798”, Revue du monde musulman et de la Méditerranée, LXXI/1, 1994, p. 75-90∞; Ann WILLIAMS, “Crusaders as Frontiersmen∞: The Case of the Order of St. John in the Mediterranean”, in Daniel POWER and Naomi STRANDER (eds.), Frontiers in Question — Euroasian Borderlands 700-1700, London, 1999, p. 209-227. 28 Sicil 26/163, 12 Rebiülevvel 1128/1716. 143 144 EYAL GINIO The ransoming of passengers was a more complex process. The captives or their relatives initiated and carried out the redemption. This was so even in cases where the captives had been in the state’s service at the time of their capture. Accordingly, the father of Mehmet, a soldier who served on an imperial frigate that patrolled the Salonican coast, had to hire the services of a French merchant to redeem his son, who had been captured together with the rest of his boat’s crew while on duty29. In the last mentioned-case, it was the captive’s father who played the crucial part in his son’s redemption. In other cases it was the captives themselves who had to set their own redemption into motion. As they were generally reduced to slavery, such an initiative on their part might seem suprising, unless their captors, who could expect to reap a considerable profit, gave them some direct or implicit assistance. Firstly, the captives had to inform their relatives of their plight, and also of their survival and the possibility of release in return for a ransom. They had to instruct their relatives to collect the necessary sum of money. To achieve these ends, the captives had to find a trustworthy negotiator who would inform their relatives, undertake the risks involved, and carry out the redemption in a hostile and unfamiliar country. Subsequently, they had to inspire the potential redeemer with total confidence that they would refund him after being released from their captivity. How was this done∞? It seems that in the eighteenth century an organized redemption network functioned to bridge the physical and cultural distances involved. It relied on mediation services provided regularly by Christians — both Ottomans and foreigners — who frequented the Western European ports and spoke the necessary vernaculars. Consider the following case, which describes the redemption of a group of pilgrims from Yeni ≤ehir (Larissa). The seizing of pilgrim ships was not random, as many of the pilgrims returned from Hijaz and Egypt with valuable merchandise that must have acted as a powerful lure for the pirates. In this case the group included seventeen men and one woman. Maltese pirates attacked their ship in the vicinity of the island of Susam (Samos) in the Aegean. Their captors took them to Malta and sold them as slaves in the local markets. However, from this crucial moment, a rather complex, yet well-organized, network intervened on 29 Sicil 1/11, 10 Zilkade 1105/1694. PIRACY AND REDEMPTION IN THE AEGEAN SEA behalf of the prisoners. Six of the captives turned for assistance to an Ottoman Christian islander named Mihelaki ibn Yakomi. Interestingly, the Salonica court’s scribe described and labelled this Greek man as “the one who constantly redeems prisoners in Malta” (her bâr cezirei malta’da esir istihlâs eden). The hiring of a Christian’s services is not surprising. Even though we have evidence of Muslim merchants who frequented some of the Christians ports, Malta, until the end of the eighteenth century, was clearly not a place where Muslims or Jews would freely disembark. Bashan mentions that Jews or Muslims who accidentally arrived in Malta were promptly taken prisoner. It is apparent that the above-mentioned Christian, who used to ply the route between the Greek lands and Malta, met the despondent prisoners in their place of captivity and assisted them in response to their entreaties. In order to carry out the redemption, the six captives became partners (≥erik). They pledged to reimburse their redeemer for their costs and for the cost of each one of their partners in case he should die before his safe return to Larissa. The agreement (kavil) received formal recognition by means of registration in a court deed (hüccet-i ≥er´îyye). This document was later copied into the Salonica sicil as an appendix to the survivors’ declaration made upon their safe return to Larissa. The original ransom agreement was written as a surety accord, in which all the captives pledged temporarily to stand surety for the claim (kefil bilmal)30. It meant that all of them became guarantors for the repayment of the total debt stemming from the full payment of the redemption costs of all the eighteen members. In the meantime, the six captives’ agents (vekiller) in Salonica deposited the required ransom in trust with the Venetian consul in the city. The Greek, acting for the captives, then entreated (niyaz) the owners of these Muslim captives, whom they had bought as slaves, to sell them to him. Gradually he succeeded in assembling all of them. After being released, only four of the six captives survived and returned to Larissa. Upon their arrival, they went to the Venetian consul and collected the deposited money to pay back to the Greek who had arranged their ransom. We can assess the time needed for the redemption process∞: the pilgrims were seized three years before their declaration given in 30 On suretyship for the claim, see Joseph SCHACHT, An Introduction to Islamic Law, Oxford, 1964, p. 158. 145 146 EYAL GINIO court upon their safe return to Larissa and one year before their agreement with the Greekransomer31. In this case the redemption process relied on a Greek islander who acted regularly in organising ransom. He was well paid for his services in addition to the reimbursement of his own expenses stemming from the captives’ redemption. Apart from such payment, some means of ensuring confidence had to be obtained in this delicate procedure, in which huge amounts of money were transformed from ‘the land of Islam’ (darül’islâm) to the ‘land of the infidels’ (darülharb). In order to obtain this trust, various security measures were taken. First of all, the oral agreement received formal recognition in a written court deed. Secondly, the captives’ relatives in Salonica deposited the agreed sum of money with a neutral person, the Venetian consul, in order to ensure proper payment. And last, but not least, the captives formed among themselves an ad hoc partnership and stood surety for the full payment of the redemption costs. All these preliminary measures were required to guarantee the ransomer that his expenses would be completely refunded and his services would be amply rewarded. The fulfilment of these measures was vital in order to implement the redemption. A case in which the Muslim owners of a ship refused to refund a Greek for his expenses incurred when he ransomed their pirated vessel, will serve to illustrate the precarious nature of this process. In this case, the ship-owners argued that the pirates had not demanded the sum of money which the agent acting on their behalf had requested, presenting them instead with an inflated figure32. 31 Sicil 29/86, 2 Muharrem 1130/1717. The original agreement was registered in the following page of the same volume, see∞: sicil 29/87, ≤evval 1127/1715. 32 Sicil 6/1, 1 Safer 1111/1699. PIRACY AND REDEMPTION IN THE AEGEAN SEA Eyal GINIO, Piracy and Redemption in the Aegean Sea during the first half of the Eighteenth Century The ransoming of captives was still a feature of the Ottomans’ relations with some of their Christian enemies during the eighteenth century. While reciprocal treaties concluded with some European states prohibited piracy and required the restitution of captives, Ottoman subjects could still face captivity at the hands of Christian pirates, mainly Maltese. Their redemption could be secured only if the captives had the necessary amounts of money and the right connections with an experienced Christian agent. Redemption was a private process that largely depended on the ability and the initiative of individuals. Eyal GINIO, Piraterie et rachat en mer Égée durant la première moitié du dixhuitième siècle Le rançonnement des prisonniers a persisté dans les relations qu’entretenaient les Ottomans avec leurs ennemis chrétiens au cours du dix-huitième siècle. Alors que des traités bilatéraux conclus avec certains États européens interdisaient la piraterie et garantissaient la restitution des prisonniers, il arrivait encore que des sujets ottomans se retrouvent prisonniers de pirates chrétiens, surtout de pirates maltais. Leur rachat n’était possible que si les prisonniers possédaient les sommes d’argent requises ainsi que les contacts appropriés avec des agents chrétiens. Le rachat s’effectuait au niveau des particuliers et son aboutissement dépendait en grande partie de l’habileté et de l’initiative des individus. 147