illegal district, such as Burgundy or Doubs,
where it is cheap. At this time (Louis
Fourteenth's) four pounds of salt cost three
shillings and sixpence; so that some poor
families could not often eat their soup for a
whole week together for want of this precious
condiment. If discovered buying it in a
cheap district, they were instantly sent to the
galleys. It was a cruel sight to see a wife
and children watching a poor rustic being
bound with chains for the humble offence of
buying salt in a distant country contrary to
some miserable custom law. The fançonier's
term of imprisonment was generally only
for five, six, or eight years, but the
misfortune was, that if strong or robust at
the oar, and a useful workman, he was never
released.
The mere deserters, though generally brave
young countrymen, driven to despair by a
cruel conscription for unrighteous and foolish
wars, were a lower class than even the
fançoniers. At one time they used to cut off
their ears and noses; but, because this led to
noisome diseases that made them the dread
of the crew, they continued the practice
of merely slitting them. Many of these
patriots were men of education and birth.
A still more degraded class were the criminals,
felons, sharpers, or highwaymen. These
wretches soon took courage, striking up
friendship with old friends in chains, telling
over their rogueries and boasting of their
crimes. They generally grew more desperate,
hopeless, and wicked, the greatest villain
passing among them for the greatest hero.
If a stranger came on board, gaping and
timid, hey presto! away went his handkerchief
and snuff-box—pinch from hand to
hand, all down the benches. The rogues
forged titles, engraved false seals, counterfeited
handwriting, which they sold to knavish
friends who came to see them.
When they were released they returned to
the world twenty times worse than they went
in. When they were attending the minister,
they poured out oaths and blasphemies that
set the chaplain's hair on end. Sometimes
they would show the blue stain that the ropes
had left round their thievish necks, boasting
that still they were no cowards; but that on
their reprieve, had robbed the first person
they met, and that now, not being known to
the judge, they had only been sent to the
galleys, where they rejoiced they had
bread and good company. Even in the
galleys they committed the most horrible of
crimes.
The slaves were sometimes, when old,
quiet, and, highly favoured, allowed to keep
shops about the port, and work, sell, and even
walk in the town upon giving a penny to
the Turk with whom each of them was
coupled, and eightpence to the pertuisane
or partisan leader who guarded them. They
were also allowed to receive letters and
money from their friends—only if they
were criminals, but not if they were
Protestants.
The galleys were much used in Mediterranean
sea-fights, to guard the level line of
coasts, rock, or sandbank; to convoy
merchant-ships when they were in danger of
being set on by the Duke of Savoy's
brigantines. They were used with their
long stern-chasers, or howitzer guns, to
sink the flaming fire-ships, and to tow
along disabled men-of-war. They would
also attack a becalmed ship, working at her
fore and aft, to avoid her sweeping broadside,
and occasionally overpowering her with
a howitzer shot between wind and water. A
ship, however, needed but a little breeze to
crush five or six galleys. These sea-hornets
carried five eight-pounders on the fore-deck;
and a coursier, which took a six-and-thirty
pound ball. There were twenty-four galleys
at Marseilles, and six at sea. Each vessel
had six small rooms under deck, namely, the
savon, the sandclat, the campaign, the paillot,
the tavern, and the fore-room.
When a Protestant slave refused to kneel
at the elevation of the mass, he was
sentenced to be bastinadoed on the coursier gun.
The chains were first taken off, he was
then stripped naked by four Turks, and
stretched on the gun. A Moor then beat the
wretch with a tough cudgel or a knotty
rope's end dipped in brine. Vinegar and
salt were then thrown on his wounds, and
he was dragged into the hospital, seldom
reviling, but piously calling on God for help.
When a prisoner was a Saint, or
obnoxious in any way to the comites or officers,
either because he did or did not complain,
they placed him next some ribald thief, who
would annoy and taunt him, or chained him
near the pump, or invented work for him.
Then they would make him serve round
water to all the benches, or beat him for
concealing letters, or lashed him for leaving open,
unchained, or for breaking a water-barrel.
Then they would set him to carry cordage, or
clean iron balustrades; or would keep him
without food till noon, and cut it small, to
prevent his selling it. Monsieur le Fevre, a
French advocate, eighteen years in the
galleys for being a Protestant, says, " There
were some who, to make themselves sport,
beat me continually; but chiefly our captain's
steward, who called it painting of Calvin's
back with cudgels, and then asked, scoffingly,
whether Calvin gave strength to work after
having been laden with so many blows; and
when he had a mind to begin again, he asked
if they would not give Calvin his commons,
and it was his delight to see me cast down
daily with blows and fatigue. The wheedling
officers that would please him, made use of
that means, as if they tickled him, to make
him laugh. When they saw me lift up my
eyes to heaven, he said, God does not hear
the Calvinists, they must suffer their due
until they either die or change."
Dickens Journals Online