THE LIVING HELL

Evening Post, Volume CXXVI, Issue 80, 1 October 1938, Page 27

THE LIVING HELL

LOT OF GALLEY SLAVE

* VOYAGE AMONG BOOKS

(By "Quest.") j Qulnqulrenie of Nineveh, from distant Ophir, Bowing home to haven iv sunny Palestine, With a cargo of ivory, And apes and peacocks, Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine. Of all picturesque and romantic poems,, this of Masefield's must be among the warmest favourites. So much of ancient Eastern splendour, adventure, strangeness, luxury, and exotic beauty glows in this graceful stanza, so vivid seems the highlybedecked and painted vessel, the shining equipment of both ship and passenger, the bright hot sunshine of v the Red Sea, the aromatic scents of the rich cargo, that wealth of imagery vies with soft music in the faultless measure. Now watch the regular swinging rhythm of the great yellow gleaming oars, the five rows of them that line each side, sweeping back and forth, up and down, hour after hour, with impressive power and ease. But look more closely, see the thirty-seven feet of oar that project, but see, too, the thirteen feet within. To each oar are five slaves, stark naked but for the chains that lock them hopelessly to the benches. Between the two rows of oars move two or three powerful fellows with great lashes which are scarcely ever still, for they hesitate not to use them upon any slave they think capable of better effort. The terrific labour induces profuse sweating, and the fair aroma of spices or sandalwood is vanquished in the pungent unsavoury odours of humanity. As I re-read the poem recently, this was the picture.that I saw, and the vision was not a happy one, albeit a perversely attractive one. I suppose one of the satisfactions of books and reading is that one has at least full liberty of mind, and can meander at will down any intriguing mental alley that presents itself. Thus I started looking over the shelves for books about galleys and conditions of such ships. But first I was curious enough to find where Ophir was, and to see what sort of a trip it would be to sunny Palestine. Apparently it lay near the Aden end of Arabia, and if so, to reach Palestine proper would have meant a longish voyage around the then unknown Cape of Good Hope. Solomon had his port in the Red Sea to receive his bales from Ophir, but I half think Masefield was relying on the Suez Canal, GOLDSMITH'S EARLIEST BOOK. Two little octavo volumes published in 1758 were Goldsmith's earliest production. "Memoirs of a Protestant" is their name, and it is a translation from the French of Jean Marteilhes. At this time Goldsmith was doing hack-work for Griffiths, the enterprising proprietor of the '/Monthly Review,' and the •Memoirs" was the young writer's first individual, job. The Protestant was a-Hugenot, who, persecuted consequent upon -the revocation in 1685 of the Edict of Nantes, under which he had enjoyed freedom of worship, found himself obliged to flee, and being caught, was condemned to the French galleys. His account of the life is most Vividly terrible—especially when one considers the two 'thousand years since Nineveh, three-quarters of it of growing Christianity. For Ihe -greater part of thirteen years he is in this service, several times an battle against the English. Ultimately he is freed "through the intercession of the court of Great BritS? His story is interesting enough but his detail of galley life is . especially clear! S rowi"g:!!' f°r inStanCe ' the *"*«* The captain gives the word for r <iwii.» 2T£affi£ £*?%& 'oars bo exacfly 'that t h p h. ion- e and beat ffme fall too'soon, those' beforTleaning back"'™' cessanly strike the oar behind thSnwMh uA hinder part of their heads, while the sla 6s ?o"2 c, SSame, ame by those behind them t£ comite (slave master) exercises th* on this occasion like a fury, while streams of .blood pour down the seats. The labo?r 0 f a *a»?y slave is become a proverb, nor is it without reason that this may be reckonedth* greatest fatigue that can be tafltetad li wretchedness 'Certain it is that a galley can *LJ iaviea, t6d ln D 0 other manned but by a SSIL of*,f laves' over whom a con»ite may exercise the most unbounded authority No freeman could continue at the oar an hour unEFh&S? fo/ Ia? m. Ust s°™time Ds lengthen X^&SUZT* hours WlthoUt tte One of the most tensely dramatic incidents as where, in a battle, his galley H? ' dl m£ by jowl wi*ll enemy ship. The enemy cannon are so close .that he-can touch one with his hand. He realises that this one would, if discharged, sweep the bench to which he is chained The other slaves lie flat, but it seems to him to be possibly better to sit upright. "My eyes were fixed upon the gunner, who, with his lighted match, was employed in discharging every piece one after another. I saw him approach nearer and, nearer to the fatal one. I lifted my heart to my God, in all the ecstasy of fervent devotion. , I had the constancy to observe the gunner apply the lighted match. What followed I only know by the consequences." While the rest about him were annihilated he escaped with severe wounds. BEN HUR'S CHARIOT RACE. The wonder is, of course, that any survive the killing labour and fearful conditions, but those that do —few enough—carry the marks to the grave —the long arms, the great hands, the vast strength of shoulder and trunk, the scars of whip-lash across the back, and the scar of chains on the legs. This reminds us, of course, of that exciting event in Lew Wallace's enthral*ling book, Ben Hur. The chariot race dwells with most that read it, as a great scene. ... It is the last lap of the race—the Athenian had fallen in the first; the Sidonian, the Byzantine, and the Corinthian were behind, and Ben Hur pressed close in the rear of the Roman, Messala, his boyhood friend and now unrelenting enemy. Maliciously the latter had struck the Jew's horses, "forward they sprang with one impulse, and forward leaped the car. Past question every experience is' serviceable to us. Where got Ben Hur the large hands and mighty grip which helped him now so well? Where but from the oar with which so long he fought the sea? And what was this spring of the floor under his feet to the dizzy eccentric lurch with which in the old time the trembling ship yielded to the beat of the staggering billows? So he kept his place and gave the four free rem, and called to them in soothing voice. . . .' Ben Hur had toiled three years at the sweeps, being rescued from it by his adoption by the galley captain, whose lifei Ben Hur saved from drowning. STRANGE CONDITIONS OF A i ■ ■'. TRAVEL.- " It was a relief after this to find a quaint'little work giving directions to

travellers who might travel in galleys. Anthony de Guevara is the author, and it appeared first in England in 1578. The' writer is of strangely philosophic, not to say humorous, turn of mind. For example, in a time when, however godly men may have been, cleanliness did not hold quite equal status, the following advice was apparently necessary:—

It is a privilege of the gallic that all fleas that leape upm the hatches, and all lice that breede in s»j.mes and all cockroaches that walke in ehi";feers be common unto all men, and if any p«-son .which is fine and nice, shall appeale from this privilege, from thenceforth I prophesie tVat if he make a secret inquisition in his i ecke and bosome, and a privie searche in his breeches, lie shall flnde more lice than money in his purse. Likewise, if any nice passenger will needes washe any headkerchief or shirte for his own person, that it be in ho fresh or sweete, but salt water. And as the saltwater both breede itch and scurf, so the boatswane will allow him place to rubbe his back* against the mast, or seeke a rower to do the same. » Naturally, a treatise that attends to such detail is equally thorough in other respects, so that the little book is probably a fairly true picture of conditions from the.point of view of the traveller. RECRUITING SLAVES. Masefield, the great poet of the sea, has a poem that is at once sweet and noble, yet grim and terrible, telling the tale of slavery. In reading it again—"Enslaved" it is called, a story of slave raids on the coast of England —I was struck by one curious passage, which reflects a strange psychology, yet one that is somehow understandable — A hundred naked rowers stared down their oars at me With all the bitter hatred the slave has for the free. The young lover, finding his sweetheart carried away to slavery and "the market of Saffee," deliberately joins the galley, toiling at the oars, hoping— what he ultimately realised —to find opportunity to rescue her. It has been, strangely enough, generally the case that the galley slaves have been recruited from religious opponents. On the Mediterranean, especially, the Barbary Corsairs, as Jurien de la Graviere tells us in his excellent books, always drew their rowers from their captured Christians. There is no doubt that, on the other hand, Turkish and other rowers were highly esteemed by the* Chistians, for they seem to have been made of tougher stuff than their own petty criminals, dissenting religionists, etc. John Evelyn, in the careful record of his diary, expresses his "amazement in contemplating these miserable catifs" as he describes the galley slaves at Marseilles. He cites a system of recruiting that I have not met elsewhere —that recruiting agents would gamble large sums- with men in desperate circumstances (or, more likely, desperately drunk) their freedom being the stakes. The diarist half suggests that the dice were more than loaded for their unlucky victims. As a youngster I always enjoyed Conan Doyle's "Tales of Long Ago," and one that has persisted in the memory is "The Last Galley," a colourful glimpse of the destruction of the Carthaginian Navy by the newfledged strength of Rome. It is a grim reminder that for the galley slave at least, victory or defeat can mean at best a change of masters —at worst, a dog's death in the foundering ship that holds him chained. Yet, just as it is. only .the ..strongest who survive the inconceivable hell of. the galleys, so that same strength somehow engenders a strange savage pride and' satisfaction in the labour and achievement itself. Most workers, however insignificant, take some pride in the little task that is their own, and with the uncanny penetration that Kipling can generally bring to the analysis of the work of the world, he has caught the outlook in a pathetically real but virile poem—"The Galley Slave":— 0 gallant was our galley from her carven steering wheel To her figurehead of silver and her beak of hammered steel. The. leg-bar chafed the ankle and we gasped for cooler air, But no nalley on the waters with our galley could compare. » It was merry in the galley, for we revelled now and then—■ If they wore us down like cattle, faith we loved and lived like men! Our women and our children toiled beside us in the dark— * . They died, we filed their fetters, and we heaved them to the shark— We heaved them to the fishes, but so fast tho galley sped We had only time to envy, for we could not mourn our dead. But today I leave the galley. Shall I curse the service then ? God be thanked! Whate'er comes after, I have lived and toiled with men!