[CHAPTER IX]
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.”