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.