THE HORRORS OF THE GALLEYS
Huguenots sent to the galleys--Authentic Memoirs of Jean
Marteilhe--Description of galleys--Construction--Method of
rowing--Extreme severity of labor--A sea fight--Marteilhe severely
wounded--His sufferings--Dunkirk acquired by the English--Huguenot
prisoners sent secretly to Havre--Removed to Paris--Included in
the chain gang for Marseilles--Cruelties en route--Detention
at Marseilles--Renewed efforts to proselytise--More about
the galleys--Dress, diet, occupation and discipline--Winter
season--Labor constant--Summer season.
No blot upon the reign of Louis XIV is blacker than his treatment of
the Huguenots,--most faithful of his subjects could he have perceived
it, and the flower of his people. They were hardly more devoted to
their faith than they were to France, and it was their faith in God
that inspired their patriotism; and yet because they would not abandon
their right of conscience they were hounded like a subject, savage
people.
A remarkable record of the sufferings endured by one of these victims
"for the faith" has come down to us in the "Memoirs of a Protestant,
Condemned to the Galleys of France for his Religion." The author is
said to have been one Jean Marteilhe, but the book was published
anonymously at The Hague in the middle of the eighteenth century. It
purports to be "A Comprehensive Account of the Various Distresses he
suffered in a Slavery of Thirteen Years and his Constance in supporting
almost Every Cruelty that Bigoted Zeal could inflict or Human Nature
sustain; also a Description of the Galleys and the Service in which
they are Employed." The writer states that he was at last set free at
the intercession of the Court of Great Britain in the reign of Queen
Anne.
Jean Marteilhe belonged to a family which had been dispersed in the
Dragonades, and he resolved to fly the country. Passing through Paris
he made for Maestricht in Holland, but was intercepted and detained at
Marienburg, a town in the French dominions, where he and his companions
were imprisoned and charged with being found upon the frontier without
a passport. They were called upon to abjure their faith or to be sent
instantly to the galleys; they were guilty of endeavoring to quit the
kingdom against the King's ordinance. Then began a weary pilgrimage on
foot, handcuffed together, "confined every evening in such loathsome
prisons as shocked even us, although by this time familiarised to
distress." On reaching Tournay they were thrown into a dungeon and
kept there many weeks, "laying continually upon an old pallet quite
rotten and swarming with vermin, placed near a door, through a hole
in which our daily allowance of bread was thrown." They remained
six weeks in this situation, when they were joined in prison by two
friends,--alleged Huguenots but less resolute than Marteilhe in
their belief, for they presently went over and embraced the Catholic
religion. Marteilhe sturdily resisted all attempts at conversion,
although all were continually importuned by the priests; yet
nevertheless entertained hopes of release, which were never realised.
They passed on from gaol to gaol until at last they reached Dunkirk, at
that time a French port and the home port of six war galleys. On their
arrival they were at once separated and each committed to a different
ship. Marteilhe's was the _Heureuse_, where he took his place upon the
bench, which was to be his terrible abode for many years.
The description given by our author of the system in force at the
galleys and of the galleys themselves may be quoted here at some length:
"A galley is ordinarily a hundred and fifty feet long and fifty feet
broad. It consists of but one deck, which covers the hold. This hold
is in the middle, seven feet high, but at the sides of the galley
only six feet. By this we may see that the deck rises about a foot
in the centre, and slopes towards the edges to let the water run
off more easily; for when a galley is loaded it seems to swim under
water, at least the sea constantly washes the deck. The sea would then
necessarily enter the hold by the apertures where the masts are placed,
were it not prevented by what is called the _coursier_. This is a
long case of boards fixed on the middle or highest part of the deck
and running from one end of the galley to the other. There is also a
hatchway into the hold as high as the _coursier_. From this superficial
description perhaps it may be imagined that the slaves and the rest of
the crew have their feet always in water. But the case is otherwise;
for to each bench there is a board raised a foot from the deck, which
serves as a footstool to the rowers, under which the water passes. For
the soldiers and mariners there is, running on each side, along the
gunnel of the vessel, what is called the _bande_, which is a bench of
about the same height with the _coursier_, and two feet broad. They
never lie here, but each leans on his own particular bundle of clothes
in a very incommodious posture. The officers themselves are not better
accommodated; for the chambers in the hold are designed only to hold
the provisions and naval stores of the galley.
"The hold is divided in six apartments. The first of these in
importance is the _gavon_. This is a little chamber in the poop,
which is big enough only to hold the captain's bed. The second is the
_escandolat_, where the captain's provisions are kept and dressed. The
third is the _compagne_. This contains the beer, wine, oil, vinegar and
fresh water of the whole crew, together with their bacon, salt meat,
fish and cheese; they never use butter. The fourth, the _paillot_. Here
are kept the dried provisions, as biscuits, pease, rice, etc. The
fifth is called the _tavern_. This apartment is in the middle of the
galley. It contains the wine, which is retailed by the comite, and of
which he enjoys the profits. This opens into the powder room, of which
the gunner alone keeps the key. In this chamber also the sails and
tents are kept. The sixth and last apartment is called the _steerage_,
where the cordage and the surgeon's chest are kept. It serves also
during a voyage as a hospital for the sick and wounded, who, however,
have no other bed to lie on than ropes. In winter, when the galley is
laid up, the sick are sent to a hospital in the city.
"A galley has fifty benches for rowers, that is to say, twenty-five
on each side. Each bench is ten feet long. One end is fixed in the
_coursier_, the other in the _bande_. They are each half a foot thick
and are placed four feet from each other. They are covered with
sack-cloth stuffed with flocks, and over this is thrown a cowhide,
which reaching down to the _banquet_, or footstool, gives them the
resemblance of large trunks. To these the slaves are chained, six to
a bench. Along the _bande_ runs a large rim of timber, about a foot
thick, which forms the gunnel of the galley. To this, which is called
the _apostie_, the oars are fixed. These are fifty feet long, and are
balanced upon the aforementioned piece of timber; so that the thirteen
feet of oar which comes into the galley is equal in weight to the
thirty-seven which go into the water. As it would be impossible to
hold them in the hand because of their thickness they have handles by
which they are managed by the slaves."
The writer passes on to the method of rowing a galley and says: "The
comite, who is the master of the crew of slaves and the tyrant so
much dreaded by the wretches fated to this misery, stands always at
the stern, near the captain, to receive his orders. There are two
lieutenants also, one in the middle, the other near the prow. These,
each with a whip of cords which they exercise without mercy on the
naked bodies of the slaves, are always attentive to the orders of the
comite. When the captain gives the word for rowing the comite gives
the signal with a silver whistle which hangs from his neck. This is
repeated by the lieutenants, upon which the slaves, who have their oars
in readiness, strike all at once and beat time so exactly, that the
hundred and fifty oars seem to give but one blow. Thus they continue,
without requiring further orders, till by another signal of the whistle
they desist in a moment. There is an absolute necessity for all rowing
thus together; for should one of the oars be lifted up or let fall
too soon, those in the next bench forward, leaning back, necessarily
strike the oar behind them with the hinder part of their heads, while
the slaves of this bench do the same by those behind them. It were
well if a few bruises on the head were the only punishment. The comite
exercises the whip on this occasion like a fury, while the muscles,
all in convulsion under the lash, pour streams of blood down the seats;
which how dreadful soever it may seem to the reader, custom teaches the
sufferers to bear without murmuring.
"The labor of a galley slave has become a proverb; nor is it without
reason that this may be reckoned the greatest fatigue that can be
inflicted on wretchedness. Imagine six men, naked as when born, chained
to their seats, sitting with one foot on a block of timber fixed to the
footstool or stretcher, the other lifted up against the bench before
them, holding in their hands an oar of enormous size. Imagine them
stretching their bodies, their arms outreached to push the oar over
the backs of those before them, who are also themselves in a similar
attitude. Having thus advanced their oar, they raise that end which
they hold in their hands, to plunge the opposite end, or blade, in
the sea, which done, they throw themselves back on their benches for
the stroke. None, in short, but those who have seen them labor, can
conceive how much they endure. None but such could be persuaded that
human strength could sustain the fatigue which they undergo for an hour
without resting. But what cannot necessity and cruelty make men do?
Almost impossibilities. Certain it is that a galley can be navigated
in no other manner but by a crew of slaves, over whom a comite may
exercise the most unbounded authority. No free man could continue at
the oar an hour unwearied; yet a slave must sometimes lengthen out
his toil for ten, twelve, nay, for twenty hours without the smallest
intermission. On these occasions, the comite, or one of the other
mariners, puts into the mouths of those wretches a bit of bread steeped
in wine, to prevent fainting through excess of fatigue or hunger, while
their hands are employed upon the oar. At such times are heard nothing
but horrid blasphemies, loud bursts of despair, or ejaculations to
heaven; all the slaves are streaming with blood, while their unpitying
taskmasters mix oaths and threats and the smacking of whips, to fill
up this dreadful harmony. At this time the captain roars to the comite
to redouble his blows, and when anyone drops from his oar in a swoon,
which not infrequently happens, he is whipped while any remains of life
appear, and then thrown into the sea without further ceremony."
Marteilhe fell to a galley commanded by a comite, commonly reputed of
cruel character and said to be "merciless as a demon." Yet the young
Protestant, who was of fine muscular physique, found favor with this
severe master, who ordered him to be chained to the bench under his
immediate charge. Quoting still further from his "Memoirs,"--he writes:
"It may not be unnecessary to mention that the comite eats upon a
table raised over one of the seats, by four iron feet. This table also
serves him for a bed, and when he chooses to sleep, it is covered with
a large pavilion made of cotton. The six slaves of that bench sit
under the table, which can easily be taken away when it interferes with
the working of the vessel. These six slaves serve as domestics to the
comite. Each has his particular employ; and whenever the comite eats
or sits here, all the slaves of this bench and the benches next it are
uncovered out of respect. Everyone is ambitious of being either on the
comite's bench or on one of the lieutenants' benches; not only because
they have what is left of the provisions of his table, but also because
they are never whipped while at work. Those are called the 'respectable
benches;' and being placed in one of them is looked upon as being in a
petty office. I was, as already mentioned, placed in this bench, which
however I did not long keep; for still retaining some of the pride of
this world, I could not prevail upon myself to behave with that degree
of abject submission which was necessary to my being in favor. While
the comite was at meals, I generally faced another way, and, with my
cap on, pretended to take no notice of what was passing behind me. The
slaves frequently said that such behavior would be punished, but I
disregarded their admonition, thinking it sufficiently opprobrious to
be the slave of the King, without being also the slave of his meanest
vassal. I had by this means like to have fallen into the displeasure of
the comite, which is one of the greatest misfortunes that can befall
a galley slave. He inquired whether I partook of those provisions he
usually left, and upon being told that I refused to touch a bit, said
'Give him his own way, for the present; a few years' servitude will
divest him of this delicacy.'
"One evening the comite called me to his pavilion, and accosting
me with more than usual gentleness, unheard by the rest, he let me
understand that he perceived I was born of a rank superior to the rest
of his crew, which rather increased than diminished his esteem; but,
as by indulging my disrespectful behavior the rest might take example,
he found it necessary to transfer me to another bench. However I
might rest assured of never receiving a blow from him or his inferior
officers upon any occasion whatsoever. I testified my gratitude in the
best manner I was able; and from that time he kept his promise, which
was something extraordinary in one who usually seemed divested of every
principle of humanity. Never was man more severe to the slaves in
general than he, yet he preserved a moderation towards the Huguenots of
his galley, which argued a regard for virtue, not usually found among
the lower classes of people."
Constant labor at the oar was terrible enough, but its horrors were
accentuated when the galley went into action. Marteilhe was engaged in
several sea-fights, one of the fiercest being an engagement with an
English warship convoying a fleet of merchantmen to the Thames. "Of the
two galleys ordered to attack the frigate," says he, "ours alone was
in a position to begin the engagement, as our consort had fallen back
at least a league behind us; either because she did not sail so fast
as we, or else her captain chose to let us have the honor of striking
the first blow. Our commodore, who seemed in no way disturbed at the
approach of the frigate, thought our galley alone would be more than a
match for the Englishman; but the sequel will show that he was somewhat
mistaken in this conjecture.
"As we both mutually approached each other, we were soon within cannon
shot, and accordingly the galley discharged her broadside. The frigate,
silent as death, approached us without firing a gun, but seemed
steadily resolved to reserve all her terrors for a closer engagement.
Our commodore, nevertheless, mistook English resolution for cowardice.
'What,' cried he, 'is the frigate weary of carrying English colors? And
does she come to surrender without a blow?' The boast was premature.
Still we approached each other and were now within musket shot. The
galley incessantly poured in her broadside and small arm fire, the
frigate, all this while, preserving the most dreadful tranquillity
that imagination can conceive. At last the Englishman seemed all at
once struck with a panic, and began to fly for it. Nothing gives more
spirits than a flying enemy, and nothing was heard but the boasting
among our officers. 'We could at one blast sink a man of war; aye,
that we could and with ease, too!' 'If Mr. English does not strike in
two minutes, down he goes, down to the bottom!' All this time the
frigate was in silence, preparing for the tragedy which was to ensue.
Her flight was but pretended, and done with a view to entice us to
board her astern, which, being the weakest quarter of a man-of-war,
galleys generally choose to attack. Against this quarter they endeavor
to drive their beak, and then generally board the enemy, after having
cleared the decks with their five pieces of cannon. The commodore,
in such a favorable conjuncture as he imagined this to be, ordered
the galley to board and the men at the helm to bury her beak in the
frigate if possible. All the soldiers and sailors stood ready with
their sabres and battle-axes to execute his command. The frigate, who
perceived our intention, dexterously avoided our beak, which was just
ready to be dashed against her stern, so that instead of seeing the
frigate sink in the dreadful encounter as was expected, we had the
mortification of beholding her fairly alongside of us,--an interview
which struck us with terror. Now it was that the English captain's
courage was conspicuous. As he had foreseen what would happen, he was
ready with his grappling irons and fixed us fast by his side. His
artillery began to open, charged with grape-shot. All on board the
galley were as much exposed as if upon a raft. Not a gun was fired
that did not make horrible execution; we were near enough even to be
scorched with the flame. The English masts were filled with sailors,
who threw hand-grenades among us like hail, that scattered wounds and
death wherever they fell. Our crew no longer thought of attacking; they
were even unable to make the least defence. The terror was so great,
as well among the officers as common men, that they seemed incapable
of resistance. Those who were neither killed nor wounded lay flat and
counterfeited death to find safety. The enemy perceiving our fright,
to add to our misfortunes, threw in forty or fifty men, who, sword
in hand, hewed down all that ventured to oppose, sparing however the
slaves who made no resistance. After they had cut away thus for some
time, being constrained by our still surviving numbers, they continued
to pour an infernal fire upon us.
"The galley which had lain astern was soon up with us, and the other
four who had almost taken possession of the merchantmen, upon seeing
our signal and perceiving our distress, quitted the intended prey to
come to our assistance. Thus the whole fleet of merchant ships saved
themselves in the Thames. The galleys rowed with such swiftness that
in less than half an hour the whole six had encompassed the frigate.
Her men were now no longer able to keep the deck, and she presented a
favorable opportunity for being boarded. Twenty-five grenadiers from
each galley were ordered upon this service. They met with no opposition
in coming on; but scarce were they crowded upon the deck when they
were saluted once again _à l'Anglais_. The officers of the frigate
were entrenched in the forecastle, and fired upon the grenadiers
incessantly. The rest of the crew also did what execution they were
able through the gratings, and at last cleared the ship of the enemy.
Another detachment was ordered to board, but with the same success;
however it was at last thought advisable, with hatchets and other
proper instruments, to lay open her decks and by that means to make
the crew prisoners of war. This was, though with extreme difficulty,
executed; and in spite of their firing, which killed several of the
assailants, the frigate's crew was at last constrained to surrender."
Marteilhe was seriously wounded in this fight, and he graphically
details his sufferings as he lay there still chained to the bench, the
only survivor of his six companions at the oar. He says: "I had not
been long in this attitude when I perceived somewhat moist and cold
run down my body. I put my hand to the place and found it wet; but as
it was dark I was unable to distinguish what it was. I suspected it,
however, to be blood, flowing from some wound, and following with my
hand the course of the stream, I found my shoulder near the clavicle
was pierced quite through. I now felt another gash in my left leg below
the knee, which also went through; again another, made I suppose by a
splinter, which ripped the integuments of my belly, the wound being a
foot long and four inches wide. I lost a great quantity of blood before
I could have any assistance. All near me were dead, as well those
before and behind me, and those of my own seat. Of eighteen persons on
the three seats, there was left surviving only myself, wounded as I was
in three different places, and all by the explosion of one cannon only.
But if we consider the manner of charging with grape-shot our wonder at
such prodigious slaughter will cease. After the cartouche of powder, a
long tin box filled with musket balls is rammed in. When the piece is
fired the box breaks and scatters its contents most surprisingly.
"I was now forced to wait till the battle was ended before I could
expect any relief. All on board were in the utmost confusion; the dead,
the dying and the wounded, lying upon each other, made a frightful
scene. Groans from those who desired to be freed from the dead,
blasphemies from the slaves who were wounded unto death, arraigning
heaven for making their end not less unhappy than their lives had been.
The _coursier_ could not be passed for the dead bodies which lay on
it. The seats were filled, not only with slaves, but also with sailors
and officers who were wounded or slain. Such was the carnage that the
living hardly found room to throw the dead into the sea, or succor the
wounded. Add to all this the obscurity of the night, and where could
misery have been found to equal mine!
"The wounded were thrown indiscriminately into the hold,--petty
officers, sailors, soldiers and slaves; there was no distinction of
places, no bed to lie upon, nor any succor to be had. With respect to
myself, I continued three days in this miserable situation. The blood
coming from my wounds was stopped by a little spirit of wine, but there
was no bandage tied, nor did the surgeon once come to examine whether
I was dead or alive. In this suffocating hole, the wounded, who might
otherwise have survived, died in great numbers. The heat and the stench
were intolerable, so that the slightest sore seemed to mortify; while
those who had lost limbs or received large wounds went off by universal
putrefaction.
"In this deplorable situation we at last arrived at Dunkirk, where
the wounded were put on shore in order to be carried to the marine
hospital. We were drawn up from the hold by pulleys and carried to
the hospital on men's shoulders. The slaves were consigned to two
large apartments separate from the men who were free, forty beds in
each room. Every slave was chained by the leg to the foot of his bed.
We were visited once every day by the surgeon-major of the hospital,
accompanied by all the army and navy surgeons then in port."
Better fortune came to Marteilhe when he recovered. He was appointed
clerk to the captain of the galley, being maimed by his wounds and no
longer fit for the oar.
"Behold me now," he writes, "placed in a more exalted station, not
less than the captain's clerk, forsooth. As I knew my master loved
cleanliness, I purchased a short coat of red stuff (galley-slaves must
wear no other color) tolerably fine. I was permitted to let my hair
grow. I bought a scarlet cap, and in this trim presented myself before
the captain, who was greatly pleased with my appearance. He gave his
_maître d'hôtel_ orders to carry me every day a plate of meat from his
own table and to furnish me with a bottle of wine, luxuries to which
I had long been a stranger. I was never more chained and only wore a
ring about my leg in token of slavery. I lay upon a good bed. I had
nothing fatiguing to do, even at times when all the rest of the crew
were lashed to the most violent exertion. I was loved and respected by
the officers and the rest of the crew, cherished by my master and by
his nephew, the major of the galleys. In short, I wanted nothing but
liberty to increase the happiness I then enjoyed. In this state, if not
of pleasure at least of tranquillity, I continued from the year 1709 to
1712, in which it pleased heaven to afflict me with trials more severe
than even those I had already experienced."
England acquired Dunkirk by special treaty with France in 1712. Upon
the transfer the English troops entered the city and took possession
of the citadel. The French galleys were to remain in port until the
fortifications were demolished, and it was agreed that no vessel
should leave Dunkirk without permission from Her Britannic Majesty.
The galley-slaves remained on board their ships, but by some strange
oversight it was not stipulated that the Protestant prisoners,
with whose sad condition the English fully sympathised, should be
released. The French government was still determined to retain them,
and planned to carry them off secretly into France before any demand
could be made for their release. In the dead of night they were
embarked to the number of twenty-two on board a fishing boat and
taken by water to Calais, where they were landed to make the long
journey on foot, chained together, to Havre-de-Grace. Here they were
held close prisoners in the Arsenal, but fairly well treated. After
some weeks, orders came for their removal to Rouen, en route for
Paris and eventually to Marseilles. Through the kindness of their
co-religionists, who came charitably to their aid, they were provided
with wagons for the journey in which all were carried to the capital,
where on arrival they were lodged in the ancient castle of Tournelle,
formerly a pleasure house belonging to the royal family, but by now
converted into a prison for galley-slaves. It is thus described by
Marteilhe: "This prison, or rather cavern, is round and of vast extent.
The floor is made uneven by large oak beams, which are placed at three
feet distance from each other. These beams are two feet and a half
thick, and ranged along the floors in such a manner that at first sight
they might be taken for benches, were they not designed for a much more
disagreeable purpose. To these were fastened large iron chains, a
foot and a half long, at intervals of two feet from each other. At the
end of each chain is a large ring of the same metal. When the slave is
first brought into this prison, he is made to lie along the beam till
his head touches it. Then the ring is put round his neck and fastened
by a hammer and anvil kept for the purpose. As the chains are fixed in
the beam at two feet distance from each other, and some of the beams
are forty feet long, sometimes twenty men are thus chained down in a
row and so in proportion to the length of the beams. In this manner are
fastened five hundred wretches in an attitude certainly pitiful enough
to melt the hardest heart.
[Illustration: _Château D'If_
Fortress on a small island two miles southwest of Marseilles: one of
the scenes of Dumas's novel "Count of Monte Cristo," and the place
of captivity of several celebrated persons, among them Mirabeau and
Philippe Égalité.]
"We remained here (in the Tournelle) but a month, at the expiration of
which time we set out with the rest of the slaves for Marseilles. On
the tenth of December, at nine in the morning, we left our dismal abode
and were conducted into a spacious court of the castle. We were chained
by the neck, two and two together, with a heavy chain three feet long,
in the middle of which was fixed a ring. After being thus paired, we
were placed in ranks, couple before couple, and a long and weighty
chain passed through the rings, by which means we were all fastened
together. This 'chain,' which consisted of more than four hundred
slaves, made a strange appearance. Once more a Protestant friend
interposed and purchased the captain's consent to allow them to
provide wagons on the road for those unable to walk. But the trials
endured by the majority of these wretched wayfarers were terribly
severe. We entered Charenton at six in the evening by moonlight. It
froze excessively hard, but the weight of our chains, according to the
captain's calculation, being a hundred and fifty pounds upon every
man, with the swiftness of our pace, had kept us pretty warm, and we
were all actually in a sweat when we entered Charenton. Here we were
lodged in the stable of an inn, but chained so close to the manger,
that we could neither sit nor lie at our ease. Beside, we had no bed
but the dung and the litter of horses to repose on; for as the captain
conducted the train to Marseilles at his own expense, where he received
twenty crowns for every one that survived the journey, he was as saving
as possible and refused us bedding, nor was any allowed the whole
way. Here, however, we were suffered to repose, if it might be called
repose, till nine at night, when we were to undergo another piece of
cruelty, which almost disgraces humanity.
"At nine o'clock, while it yet froze excessively hard, our chains
were again unriveted and we were all led from the stable into a court
surrounded by high walls. The whole train, which was ranked at one
end of the court, was commanded to strip off all clothes and lay them
down each before him. The whip was exercised unmercifully on those who
were lazy or presumed to disobey. Every one promiscuously, as well
we as others, was obliged to comply with this unnecessary command.
After we were thus stripped, naked as when born, the whole train was
again commanded to march from the side of the court in which they were
to the side opposite them. Here were we for two hours, stark naked,
exposed to all the inclemency of the weather and a cutting wind that
blew from the north. All this time the archers were rummaging our rags
under pretence of searching for knives, files or other instruments that
might be employed in effecting our escape; but in reality money was
that for which they sought so earnestly. They took away everything that
was worth taking,--handkerchiefs, shirts, snuff-boxes, scissors,--and
never returned anything they laid hands on. When any slave entreated
to have his goods restored, he was only answered by blows and menaces,
which effectually silenced if not satisfied the querist. This rummage
being over, all were ordered to march back to the place from whence we
came, and take again each his respective bundle of clothes. But it was
impossible. We were almost frozen to death, and so stiff with cold that
scarce one in the whole train could move. And though the distance was
but small, yet frozen like statues, every wretch remained where he was
and silently awaited fresh instances of their keeper's cruelty. But
they did not long wait; the whip again was handled and by the merciless
fury of these strangers to pity, the bodies of the poor wretches were
mangled without distinction; but all in vain, for this could not
supply vital warmth where life was no more. Some actually dead, others
dying, were dragged along by the neck and thrown into the stable,
without further ceremony, to take their fate. And thus died that night
or the ensuing morning, eighteen persons. With respect to our little
society, we were neither beaten nor thus dragged along and we may well
attribute the saving of our lives to the hundred crowns which had been
advanced before our setting out."
Further details of this cruel march may be spared the reader. "In this
manner," says Marteilhe, "we crossed the Isle of France, Burgundy and
the Mâconnais, till we came to Lyons, marching every day three or four
leagues; long stages, considering the weight of our chains, our being
obliged to sleep every night in stables upon dung, our having bad
provisions and not sufficient liquid to dilute them, walking all day
mid-leg in mud, and frequently wet through with rain; swarming with
vermin and ulcerated with the itch, the almost inseparable attendants
on misery." At Lyons the whole train embarked in large flat-bottomed
boats and dropped down the Rhone as far as the bridge St. Esprit;
thence by land to Avignon and from Avignon to Marseilles, which they
reached on the 17th of January, 1713, having spent some six weeks on
the road.
The treatment accorded to the galley-slaves at Marseilles was
identical with that of Dunkirk. But now the case of the Protestants
engaged the serious attention of the Northern nations, and strong
representations were made to the French king, demanding their release.
But now in the vain hope of retaining them, the most pertinacious
efforts were made to obtain that abjuration of the faith which
had been steadfastly rejected by the sufferers for so many years.
Bigoted priests with special powers of persuasion were called in with
fresh zeal for proselytising, but being entirely unsuccessful they
concentrated their efforts to impede and prolong the negotiations for
release. When at last the order came, due to the vigorous interposition
of the Queen of England, it was limited to a portion only of the
Protestant prisoners. One hundred and thirty-six were released, and
among them Jean Marteilhe; but the balance were retained quite another
year. Marteilhe, after a short stay at Geneva, travelled northwards,
and at length went with some of his comrades to England. They were
granted a special audience with Queen Anne, and were permitted to
kiss her Majesty's hand, and were assured from her own mouth of the
satisfaction afforded by their deliverance.
A few details may be extracted from Marteilhe's story as to the dress,
diet, occupation and general discipline of one of Louis' galleys. As to
dress he tells us:
"Each slave receives every year linen shirts, somewhat finer than that
of which sails are made; two pair of knee trousers, which are made
without any division, like a woman's petticoat,--for they must be put
on over the head because of the chain; one pair of stockings made of
coarse red stuff, but no shoes. However, when the slaves are employed
in the business of the galley by land, as frequently happens in winter,
the keeper on that occasion furnishes them with shoes, which he takes
back when the slaves return aboard. They are supplied every second year
with a cassock of coarse red stuff. The tailor shows no great marks of
an artist in making it up; it is only a piece of stuff doubled, one
half for the forepart, the other for the back; at the top a hole to
put the head through. It is sewed up on each side, and has two little
sleeves which descend to the elbow. This cassock has something the
shape of what is called in Holland a 'keil,' which carters generally
wear over the rest of their clothes. The habit of the former is,
however, not so long, for it reaches before only down to the knees, and
behind it falls half a foot lower. Besides all this, they are allowed
every year a red cap, very short, as it must not cover the ears. Lastly
they are given every second year a great coat of coarse cloth made
of wool and hair. This habit is made in the form of a nightgown and
descends to the feet; it is furnished with a hood not unlike the cowl
of a Capuchin friar. This is by far the best part of a slave's scanty
wardrobe; for it serves him for mattress and blankets at night, and
keeps him warm by day."
As will have been gathered from the preceding description, the galleys
were mainly intended for sea service and occasional combat, but this
was only in the summer months. As winter approached, generally about
the latter end of October, the galleys were laid up in harbor and
disarmed. "The first precaution is to land the gunpowder, for they
never bring their powder into port. The galleys are next brought in and
ranged along the quay according to the order of precedence, with the
stern next the quay. There are then boards laid, called _planches_, to
serve as a passage from the quay to the galley. The masts are taken
down and laid in the _coursier_, and the yards lie all along the seats.
After this they take out the cannon, the warlike stores, provisions,
sails, cordage, anchors, etc. The sailors and coasting pilots are
discharged, and the rest of the crew lodged in places appointed for
them in the city of Dunkirk. Here the principal officers have their
pavilions, though they lodge in them but seldom, the greatest part
spending the winter at Paris or at their own homes. The galley being
at last entirely cleared, the slaves find room enough to fix their
wretched quarters for the winter. The company belonging to each seat
procure pieces of boards, which they lay across the seats and upon
these make their beds. The only bed between them and the boards is a
cast-off greatcoat; their only covering that which they wear during
the day. The first rower of each seat, who has consequently the first
choice, is best lodged; the second shares the next best place; the
four others are lodged, each, on the cross planks already mentioned,
according to his order.
"When the weather grows extremely cold, there are two tents raised over
the galley, one above the other. The outermost is generally made of
the same stuff of which the slaves' greatcoats are formed, and keeps
the galley sufficiently warm; I mean it seems warm to those who are
accustomed to this hard way of living. For those who have been used
to their own houses and warm fires would never be able to support the
cold without being habituated to it beforehand. A little fire to warm
them and a blanket to cover them would make our slaves extremely happy,
but this is a happiness never allowed them on board. At break of day
the comites, who always sleep on board together with the keepers and
halberdiers, blow their whistles, at the sound of which all must rise.
This is always done precisely at the same hour; for the commodore every
evening gives the signal to the comite by firing a cannon for the
slaves to go to sleep, and repeats the same at break of day for their
getting up. If in the morning any should be lazy and not rise when they
hear the whistle, they may depend on being lashed severely. The crew
being risen, their first care is to fold up their beds, to put the
seats in order, to sweep between them and wash them when necessary.
The sides of the tent are raised up by stanchions provided for that
purpose in order to air the galley; though when the wind blows hard,
that side to the leeward only is raised. When this is done every slave
sits down on his own seat and does something to earn himself a little
money.
"It is necessary to be known, that no slave must be idle. The comites,
who observe their employments every day, come up to those they see
unemployed and ask why they do not work. If it is answered that they
understand no trade, he gives them cotton yarn, and bids them knit it
into stockings; and if the slave knows not how to knit, the comite
appoints one of his companions of the same seat to instruct him. It
is a trade easily learnt; but as there are some who are either lazy,
stupid or stubborn and will not learn, they are sure to be remarked by
the comites who seldom show them any future favor. If they will not
work at that for their own advantage, the comite generally gives them
some work impossible to perform; and when they have labored in vain to
execute his commands, he whips them for laziness; so that in their own
defence, they are at last obliged to learn to knit.
"Whenever a slave is missing, there are guns fired one after the other,
which advertise his escape to the peasants round the country; upon
which they all rise, and with hounds trained for the purpose trace
out his footsteps; so that it is almost impossible for him to secure
a retreat. I have seen several instances of this at Marseilles. At
Dunkirk, indeed, the Flemish detest such practices; but the soldiers,
with which the town abounds, will do anything to gain twenty crowns.
At Marseilles the peasants are cruel to the last degree. I have been
informed for certain that a son brought back his own father, who had
been a slave and endeavored to escape. The intendant, as the story
goes, was so shocked at his undutifulness, that though he ordered him
the twenty crowns for his fee, yet sentenced him to the galleys for
life, where he remained chained to the same seat with his unhappy
father. So true is it, that the natives of Provence are in general
perfidious, cruel and inhuman.
"All along the quay, where the galleys lie, are ranged little stalls,
with three or four slaves in each, exercising their trades to gain a
trifling subsistence. Their trades are nevertheless frequently little
better than gross impositions on the credulity of the vulgar. Some
pretend to tell fortunes and take horoscopes; others profess magic and
undertake to find stolen goods, though cunning often helps them out
when the devil is not so obedient as to come at a call.
"While some of the slaves are thus employed in the stalls along the
quay, the major part are chained to their seats aboard, some few
excepted who pay a halfpenny a day for being left without a chain.
Those can walk about the galley and traffic or do any other business
which may procure them a wretched means of subsistence. The greatest
part of them are sutlers. They sell tobacco (for in winter the slaves
are permitted to smoke on board), brandy, etc. Others make over their
seats a little shop, where they expose for sale butter, cheese,
vinegar, boiled tripe, all of which are sold to the crew at reasonable
rates. A halfpenny worth of these, with the king's allowance of bread,
make no uncomfortable meal. Except these sutlers, all the rest are
chained to their seats and employed in knitting stockings. Perhaps it
may be asked where the slaves find spun cotton for knitting. I answer
thus:
"Many of the Turks, especially those who have money, drive a trade in
this commodity with the merchants of Marseilles, who deal largely in
stockings. The merchants give the Turks what cotton they think proper,
unmanufactured, and the Turks pay them in this commodity manufactured
into stockings. These Turks deliver the cotton spun to the slaves, to
be knit. They are indifferent as to the size of the stockings, as the
slave is paid for knitting at so much a pound. So that the slave who
received ten pounds of spun cotton is obliged to return the same weight
of knit stockings, for which he is paid at a fixed price. There must be
great care taken not to filch any of the cotton nor leave the stockings
on a damp place to increase their weight; for if such practices are
detected the slave is sure to undergo the bastinado.
"At the approach of summer their employments are multiplied every day
by new fatigues. All the ballast, which is composed of little stones
about the size of pigeon's eggs, is taken out and handed up from the
hold in little wicker baskets from one to the other, till they are
heaped upon the quay opposite the galley. Here two men are to pump
water upon them till they become as clean as possible; and when dry
they are again replaced. This, and cleaning the vessel, takes up seven
or eight days' hard labor. Then the galley must be put into proper
order before it puts to sea. First, necessary precautions must be taken
with respect to the cordage that it be strong and supple; and what new
cordage may be necessary is to be supplied by the slaves by passing it
round the galley. This takes up some days to effect. Next the sails are
to be visited, and if new ones are necessary, the comite cuts them out
and the slaves sew them. They must also make new tents, mend the old in
like manner, prepare the officers' beds, and everything else, which it
would be impossible to particularise. This bustle continues till the
beginning of April, when the Court sends orders for putting to sea.
"Our armament begins by careening the galleys. This is done by turning
one galley upon another so that its keel is quite out of the water.
The whole keel is then rubbed with rendered tallow. This is perhaps
one of the most fatiguing parts of a slave's employments. After this
the galley is fitted up with her masts and rigging and supplied with
artillery and ammunition. All this is performed by the slaves, who are
sometimes so fatigued that the commander is obliged to wait in port a
few days till the crew have time to refresh themselves."
Galleys as warships fell into disuse about the time that our Protestant
prisoners were released. The improvement in the sailing qualities of
ships and the manifest advantages enjoyed by those skilfully handled,
as were the English, gradually brought about the abandonment of the oar
as a motive power, and the galleys are only remembered now as a glaring
instance of the cruelties practised by rulers upon helpless creatures
subjected to their tender mercies.