The Travels of Marco Polo — Volume 1 by Marco Polo and da Pisa Rusticiano

says that in going into action every vessel should make the greatest possible display of colours; gonfalons and broad banners should float from stem to stern, and gay pennons all along the bulwarks; whilst it was impossible to have too much of noisy music, of pipes, trumpets, kettle-drums, and what not, to put heart into the crew and strike fear into the enemy.[24] So Joinville, in a glorious passage, describes the galley of his kinsman, the Count of Jaffa, at the landing of St. Lewis in Egypt:— “That galley made the most gallant figure of them all, for it was painted all over, above water and below, with scutcheons of the count’s arms, the field of which was _or_ with a cross _patée gules_.[25] He had a good 300 rowers in his galley, and every man of them had a target blazoned with his arms in beaten gold. And, as they came on, the galley looked to be some flying creature, with such spirit did the rowers spin it along;—or rather, with the rustle of its flags, and the roar of its nacaires and drums and Saracen horns, you might have taken it for a rushing bolt of heaven.”[26] The galleys, which were very low in the water,[27] could not keep the sea in rough weather, and in winter they never willingly kept the sea at night, however fair the weather might be. Yet Sanudo mentions that he had been with armed galleys to Sluys in Flanders. I will mention two more particulars before concluding this digression. When captured galleys were towed into port it was stern foremost, and with their colours dragging on the surface of the sea.[28] And the custom of saluting at sunset (probably by music) was in vogue on board the galleys of the 13th century.[29] We shall now sketch the circumstances that led to the appearance of our Traveller in the command of a war-galley. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- [1] I regret not to have had access to Jal’s learned memoirs (_Archéologie Navale_, Paris, 1839) whilst writing this section, nor since, except for a hasty look at his Essay on the difficult subject of the oar arrangements. I see that he rejects so great a number of oars as I deduce from the statements of Sanudo and others, and that he regards a large number of the rowers as supplementary. [2] It seems the more desirable to elucidate this, because writers on mediæval subjects so accomplished as Buchon and Capmany have (it would seem) entirely misconceived the matter, assuming that all the men on one bench pulled at one oar. [3] See _Coronelli, Atlante Veneto_, I. 139, 140. Marino Sanudo the Elder, though not using the term _trireme_, says it was well understood from ancient authors that the Romans employed their rowers _three to a bench_ (p. 59). [4] “_Ad terzarolos_” (_Secreta Fidelium Crucis_, p. 57). The Catalan Worthy, Ramon de Muntaner, indeed constantly denounces the practice of manning _all_ the galleys with _terzaruoli_, or _tersols_, as his term is. But his reason is that these thirds-men were taken from the oar when crossbowmen were wanted, to act in that capacity, and as such they were good for nothing; the crossbowmen, he insists, should be men specially enlisted for that service and kept to that. He would have some 10 or 20 per cent. only of the fleet built very light and manned in threes. He does not seem to have contemplated oars three-banked, and crossbowmen _besides_, as Sanudo does. (See below; and _Muntaner_, pp. 288, 323, 525, etc.) In Sanudo we have a glimpse worth noting of the word _soldiers_ advancing towards the modern sense; he expresses a strong preference for _soldati_ (viz. _paid_ soldiers) over _crusaders_ (viz. volunteers), p. 74. [5] _L’Armata Navale_, Roma, 1616, pp. 150–151. [6] See a work to which I am indebted for a good deal of light and information, the Engineer Giovanni Casoni’s Essay: “_Dei Navigli Poliremi usati nella Marina dagli Antichi Veneziani_,” in “_Esercitazioni dell’Ateneo Veneto_,” vol. ii. p. 338. This great _Quinquereme_, as it was styled, is stated to have been struck by a fire-arrow, and blown up, in January 1570. [7] _Pantera_, p. 22. [8] _Lazarus Bayfius de Re Navali Veterum_, in _Gronovii Thesaurus_, Ven. 1737, vol. xi. p. 581. This writer also speaks of the Quinquereme mentioned above (p. 577). [9] _Marinus Sanutius_, p. 65. [10] See the woodcuts opposite and at p. 37; also _Pantera_, p. 46 (who is here, however, speaking of the great-oared galleys), and _Coronelli_, i. 140. [11] _Casoni_, p. 324. He obtains these particulars from a manuscript work of the 16th century by Cristoforo Canale. [12] Signor Casoni (p. 324) expresses his belief that no galley of the 14th century had more than 100 oars. I differ from him with hesitation, and still more as I find M. Jal agrees in this view. I will state the grounds on which I came to a different conclusion. (1) Marino Sanudo assigns 180 rowers for a galley equipped _ai Terzaruoli_ (p. 75). This seemed to imply something near 180 oars, for I do not find any allusion to reliefs being provided. In the French galleys of the 18th century there were no reliefs except in this way, that in long runs without urgency only half the oars were pulled. (See _Mém. d’un Protestant condamné aux Galères_, etc., Réimprimés, Paris, 1865, p. 447.) If four men to a bench were to be employed, then Sanudo seems to calculate for his smaller galleys 220 men actually rowing (see pp. 75–78). This seems to assume 55 benches, _i.e._, 28 on one side and 27 on the other, which with 3-banked oars would give 165 rowers. (2) Casoni himself refers to Pietro Martire d’Anghieria’s account of a Great Galley of Venice in which he was sent ambassador to Egypt from the Spanish Court in