So distinct at this time was the line drawn between the sailing vessel and the galley that the actual terminology used was entirely different; that is to say, the names of such things as masts, sails, rudder, tiller, stern, stempost, cutwater, etc., were not the same words; the sailor who used sails could not understand his brother mariner who used oars, and vice versa.

[Illustration:  GALLEY UNDER OARS.]

What was necessary of course in the galley was many oars and many hands to use them; the vessel was most skilfully constructed for this purpose so as to get the fullest power from her human engines; the result was that men were crowded on board of her to such an extent that there was scarcely room to breathe, such a craft as the one of which the dimensions have been given having on board some four hundred men.

Barras de la Penne, a French officer who in 1713 first went on board a galley, thus describes what he saw: 

“Those who see a galley for the first time are astonished to see so many persons; there are an infinite number of villages in Europe which do not contain an equal number of inhabitants; however, this is not the principal cause of one’s surprise, but that so many men can be assembled in so small a space.  It is truth that many of them have not room to sleep at full length, for they put seven men on one bench; that is to say, on a space about ten feet long and four broad; at the bows one sees some thirty sailors who have for their lodging the floor space of the rambades (this is the platform at the prow of the galley) which consists of a rectangular space ten feet long by eight in width.  The captain and officers who live on the poop are scarcely better lodged, and one is tempted to compare their grandeur with that of Diogenes in his tub.

“When the unpitying Libyan Sea surprises these galleys upon the Roman coasts, when the Norther lashes to foam the Gulf of Lyons, when the humid east wind of Syria is driving them off shore, everything combines to make life on board a modern galley a hell of misery and discomfort.  The creaking of the blocks and cordage, the loud cries of the sailors, the horrible maledictions of the galley slaves, the groaning of the timbers, mingled with the clank of chains and the bellowings of the tempest, produce sentiments of affright in the most intrepid breasts.  The rain, the hail, the lightning, habitual accompaniments of these terrific storms, the waves which dash over the vessel, all add to the horror of the situation, and although devotion is not as a rule very strongly marked on board a galley, you will hear these folk praying to God, and others making vows to the Saints; these would do much better not to forget God and his Saints when the danger is past.

“Calm itself has also its inconveniences, as the evil smells which arise from the galley are then so strong that one cannot get away from them in spite of the tobacco with which one is obliged to plug one’s nostrils from morning till night.”

The gallant officer here goes into further details concerning the vermin on board which it will be as well to spare the reader.