While dredging the Laguna Fecal in the year 1852, for ammoniacal guano in its crystalized and mixed combinations, the sieve grapnel brought to the surface several pieces of fashioned wood of remarkable appearance. From their shape and peculiar method of union, the curiosity of the laborers became excited; and as my devotion to antiquarian research was known to the Padrone, a message was sent to me expressing the desire that I would attend personally and direct the labors of the workmen in accordance with my judgment. Before my arrival, an anchor of hard copper alloy was raised. After carefully removing the ammoniacal incrustations, a clear impress of its form was found stamped on the shank beneath the ring. This indenture was the maritime seal of the early Phœnician cities. Knowing the high scientific value that I placed upon the relict vestiges of past ages, the Padrone and workmen voluntarily surrendered all that had been recovered.
After carefully sounding to obtain a knowledge of the imbedded extent of the detached portions, and to learn the dimensions of the vessel, if its planks and timbers were yet retained in position by their fastenings, it was inclosed in a coffer-dam, and the retained guanic admixture with water was pumped out for evaporation. When cleared, the trove, with the aid of dredge and shovels, was in a few days fully exposed to view. As we had anticipated, the prize proved to be the remains of an ancient galley. Calculating from the keel, which remained nearly entire, the extreme length from its heel to the stem of the prow must have exceeded, free from overworks, seventy feet. The keel was stepped for prow, main, and stern masts. The former and latter were respectively placed within a few feet of the extreme ends of the keelson, or its semblance, which strengthened the true step in the keel. The septum support of the main- mast united the after and forward decks, separating the banks of oarsmen, with ample space between for passage fore and aft. Beneath the lower bank-pits a portion of the deck remained, showing the foot-wear of the rowers in their forward and backward steps of reach. The hold beneath was of sufficient capacity for the storage of provisions for a long voyage. The run-planking on the starboard side was sufficiently well preserved to show the columbares for a single bank of eight oars, as well as those in the stern designed for the rudder blades. The fact of there being only a single bank of oars in the true planking, afforded presumptive evidence of commercial intention, as in a vessel so large their propelling power would have proved insufficient for ordinary progression, but as adjuvantic aids to the sails, in light winds, they would prove valuable. The seams between the planks still retained the papyrus with which they had been caulked; this had been introduced with pitch or melted resin; the combined effects of age and ammonia had changed the paying substance, so that in appearance it resembled amber. The remains of the galley presented for the study of the antiquarian a double interest, historical and mechanical, the latter, with its material indications of skill in art adaptation, affording a clue to the periodic stages of progression as the head and hand mark of coeval intelligence. The wood used in its construction was the red, aromatic cedar of Lebanon, which gave indications of large growth, many of the planks reaching the entire length of the hull, perhaps determining at the time the size of the vessel. During the early ascendancy of Roman rule, the Appenine pine, or fir, was brought into requisition for ship building; but the cedar of Lebanon still retained its reputation founded upon intrinsic value, as it exceeded all other woods in elastic toughness, lightness, durability, and unattractive freedom from parasitic accumulations peculiar to the Mediterranean and ocean. The rostrum or beak had been detached from the prow and set upon an altar aft, among other memorial lares. In form it blended the graceful curve of the swan’s neck with the repulsive rugæ of the serpent’s expansive skin, characteristically sustained with the mythical “figure-head” of a dragon. In addition to the holes mortised in the true keel for the reception of the ribs, they were secured in place and rendered steadfast by a clamp attachment to an overlaying substitute for the modern keelson, to which they were firmly bolted, with a workmanlike precision that had defied the lapse of time, and decomposing agency of salts and exposure, a chance portion only of the metal being exposed. But to the lost art of hardening copper with a non-erosive alloy, its preservation was chiefly to be attributed.