In the early 1600s, Barbary corsairs were on a role—as the saying goes. From Europeans, they had learned how to build and sail square-rigged ships, and this allowed them to burst out of the Mediterranean and raid all along the Atlantic coast of Europe up as far as the English Channel. They even reached Iceland, where, in the summer of 1627, two sets of corsairs captured close to 500 people and hauled them off to North Africa to be sold into slavery.
But Iceland wasn’t the only North Atlantic island to be raided.
Two years after the Iceland raid, three Barbary corsair ships attacked the island of Suðuroy, the southernmost of the Faroe Islands. They attacked the settlement on what was called Kvalbø Bay (more commonly referred to as Hvalbiarfjørður), on the northeast tip of Suðuroy.
The image at the top of this post shows the location of the Faroe Islands archipelago (due north of Britain, on the meridian that cuts through the Irish Sea and western Scotland). Map 1 on the left below shows the Faroe Islands in their entirety (Suðuroy is the southernmost). Map 3 below it shows a close-up of the island of Suðuroy (Hvalbiarfjørður is spelled Qualboefiord).
There is a written account of the Barbary corsair attack on Suðuroy. It is, however, perhaps more folktale than actual historical fact. Folktales do often have their roots in fact, though, and the account almost certainly has a kernel of truth to it—even if all the details it depicts are not strictly accurate.
This written account of the corsair attack exists in both Faroese and Danish. The translation below is from the Danish version. As far as I know, it is the first complete English translation.
Here, then, is the tale of the Barbary corsair attack on the island of Suðuroy in the Faroe Islands.
In the summer of 1629, three Turkish warships dropped their anchors in Kvalbø Bay at the foot of which lay Prestedalen [Pastor’s Valley, where the residence of the local pastor was located]. It is said that the ships were guided there by a man from the farm, Nøst, in Kvalbø, who thought he had been wronged by his brother in a matter of inheritance. He set fire to Nøst Farm, which was occupied by his brother, and showed the Turks around the village. During this part of the raid, six people were killed and over thirty women and children abducted.
Reverend Povel [the local pastor] was on the beach there when the Turks came ashore. He had his seven-year-old son with him. One of the Turkish chiefs who came ashore performed [Muslim] devotions, bowing towards the sun. The boy laughed at this outlandish, foreign behavior. Because of this, the Turks wanted to seize him. With the boy under his arm, the father ran to his horse and rode off up the slope of Prestedalen, holding the boy in front of him. Some of the Turks pursued them.
When the Reverend Povel and his son entered a fogbank, the Reverend threw off his cloak, let his horse go, and laid his son in a small hollow between some stones and hid himself in another place from which he could keep an eye on how things were progressing.
The Turks captured the horse and found the cloak. One of them put it on. This man walked past the place where the boy was hidden. The boy, thinking it was his father in the cloak, cried out, “Take me with you, father!” The Turks then discovered him and took him captive. He screamed so loudly, however, that his father heard and came out of the place where he had been hiding. The Turks caught sight of him and tried to seize him.
Reverend Povel, who would rather have died than be captured, fled to the edge of the mountain and jumped, thinking he would fall into the sea. However, he tumbled down onto a rocky ledge called Gimbrarouk. The drop was fifteen favne [i.e., fathoms—about 27.5 meters/90 feet], but he escaped with his life.
On Gimbrarouk, he fell in with some people from Trangisvaag who had fled there. With two of these people, he descended to Sagis Tangen to use Galdr [a form of incantatory magic] against the Turkish ships. He asked whether all the Turks should perish at his hand, but those with him said that since only half of the Turks were devoted to dealing death, he should only make two of the ships run aground.
He took three scapular bones and tossed them into the sea after reading a prayer. Immediately afterwards, a great storm came up from the northeast with a strong wind, and the largest and the smallest of the Turkish ships ran aground under Hundegjov on Prestegaardens Bay. None of the crew survived, and the dead bodies of over three hundred Turks floated to shore—among them was the body of the Reverend’s son, who washed up on Gjørda Strand. The middle ship. However, floated far out to sea, as far as the eye could see.
There are red and green granite stones, hunks of sandstone, and white-spotted stones at that spot—stones that are not otherwise found on the Faroe Islands. They are referred to as the Turkish Stones and are said to be from the Turkish ships’ ballast.
The second day after that, the wind shifted, and the Turks’ middle-sized ship sailed away northwards. As it lay north of the Island, people onshore could hear the captives onboard lamenting.
After this, the Reverend Povel lost his mind. He laughed constantly. When he buried his son, he said, “Now I shall laugh and laugh until I die, and then I will see my son again. If he were a captive, I would be crying.”
The following year he was dismissed as pastor due to his insanity.
For those who may be interested…
The original Danish text can be found in
N. Andersen, Færøerne 1600-1709. København: Forlagt af Universitetsboghandler G. E. C. Gad, Trykt Hos Nielsek & Lydiche, 1895, pp. 431 – 433.
I would like to express my thanks to Mia Pamuk, who looked over my translation and gave me valuable advice on how to improve it.
The Travels of Reverend Ólafur Egilsson
The story of the Barbary corsair raid on Iceland in 1627
Amazon listing