INTRODUCTION
At the forefront of the early modern Mediterranean warfare were galleys, indispensable war tools extensively employed by all contenders. Galleys were exceptionally well suited for the distinctive geography of the Mediterranean, characterized as it was by narrow straits, confined waters, and numerous islands. Their shallow draft and maneuverability in tight spaces, achieved through oar propulsion, provided a crucial advantage. Unlike wind-dependent sails, oars offered reliable movement, vital for both offensive and defensive strategies. In contrast, while more autonomous and formidable in open-sea battles and navigation, broadside oceangoing ships, like galleons, were less adaptable to the tactical requirements of Mediterranean warfare. This context demanded highly mobile vessels capable of rapid deployment, precise maneuvering in confined coastal areas, and effective amphibious operations. Galleys also excelled in coastal patrolling, transporting troops and goods, and escorting dignitaries, while their cost-effectiveness and speed of construction made them irreplaceable. Additionally, they symbolized power and prestige, elevating their operators’ status. This study deepens the understanding of these dimensions by examining the construction of the Real, the Spanish flagship galley, and its implications for Mediterranean maritime strategy and hegemony.
These vessels, whose roots trace back to antiquity, epitomized adaptability, constantly undergoing modifications to meet the ever-changing demands of early modern warfare.Footnote 1 Most notably, galleys incorporated gunpowder technology, necessitating structural changes to accommodate the added weight and recoil. Cannons and portable firearms led to redesigning other structural elements, such as the castles, transforming them into firing platforms known as rambades. Further design modifications included reinforced hulls, alterations to the stern shape and rudder placement, and displacement of the ships’ centers of gravity. Despite the increased range and firepower and their growth in size and weight, however, galleys primarily engaged in close combat. Maneuverability and positioning were critical features of these rowed ships, prompting alterations to the number, size, and arrangement of oars.Footnote 2
The strategic importance of galleys was evident in the turbulent waters of the sixteenth-century Mediterranean, where prolonged maritime conflict reshaped the region’s political, social, economic, and military dynamics. The confrontation had a religious dimension, as the Muslim Ottoman Empire posed a constant threat to Christian lands in the Balkans, Central Europe, and elsewhere in the Mediterranean. This fragmented Christian bloc saw the Habsburg-ruled Spanish Monarchy emerge as the main force opposing Muslim expansion. While Italian states like Venice and the Papal States were wary of Spain’s influence, pressure from the Ottomans—who were frequently aligned with the Habsburgs’ primary rival, France—occasionally united them with Spain against the common threat.Footnote 3
The result was a prolonged struggle, unfolding as a naval arms race characterized by constant raids on enemy coasts and vessels, with a continuous escalation in the number of galleys and the colossal resources required to sustain this war machine.Footnote 4 The height of this confrontation was the Battle of Lepanto in 1571, a massive clash involving hundreds of galleys, and thousands of men, in a struggle for supremacy.Footnote 5 Paradoxically, this crescendo of violence paved the way for an uneasy peace and a de-escalation of the Mediterranean front, allowing Spain to turn its attention to Atlantic threats, with the epicenter in the Low Countries.Footnote 6 The impracticality of focusing on both fronts meant that Mediterranean affairs became less of a priority.Footnote 7
This research is set in that precise Mediterranean. Building on this broader context, the article uses the Real (the Royal Galley) as a lens to reframe both the material and symbolic functions of galleys in early modern Mediterranean geopolitics. Commissioned in 1586 for Gian Andrea Doria, the Real stood at the intersection of naval innovation, courtly display, and imperial ambition. Two primary research questions guide this investigation: first, an examination of the intricate details of galley construction in the understudied Royal Shipyard of Barcelona during this recession period, shedding light on methodologies and challenges faced by Western Mediterranean shipwrights in a time of significant transformation. Second, an exploration of the symbolic and non-military strategic dimensions of galleys, aiming to recover aspects of their symbolic and strategic roles often obscured by their traditional framing as war machines alone. The Spanish royal galley became a distinctive galley class.Footnote 8 The existence of this unique galley generated a new paradigm, and scholars have failed to interpret its role and singularities beyond the short-lived first Real, deployed at Lepanto. Nevertheless, that galley class became a continuous member among Christian galleys: three more were built just before the end of the century. The Real was themed as exclusive to the Spanish Monarchy for many decades—as long as its hegemony over the Western Mediterranean remained uncontested. Later, other Mediterranean navies incorporated their very own royal galleys into their ranks as a way to exert power, enhance prestige, and claim sovereignty.Footnote 9 These elements—already present in the sphere of the Spanish Monarchy during the sixteenth century—have thus far received little scholarly attention.
Through this particular case, this research enriches the broader field of maritime history. It delves into the intricacies of early modern Western Mediterranean shipbuilding and naval dynamics, unveiling the multifaceted nature of ships as political and symbolic tools—an often overlooked aspect by scholars.Footnote 10 The study highlights the profound interconnectedness of naval technology, sea power, and politics by situating the construction of the Real within a wider framework of maritime power projection, cultural exchanges, and knowledge transfer.Footnote 11 The Real epitomized the majesty and authority of the Spanish king, both at sea and onshore. Galleys’ characteristic coastal navigation enabled frequent appearances at friendly ports, especially in Italian lands, where it was ceremonially saluted and welcomed.Footnote 12 This practice of naval diplomacy was crucial, as the king’s physical and symbolic presence through his flagship and his galley squadrons often served to deter, persuade, and exert influence more effectively than cannons alone could.Footnote 13 This article thus enhances the comprehension of the non-military dimensions of warships and their role in geopolitics by focusing on the complex maritime landscape of the post-Lepanto Christian Mediterranean.Footnote 14 Additionally, it emphasizes the detailed shipbuilding practices, the methodologies employed, and the challenges faced by shipwrights and governments, contributing to the broader discourse on the history of naval architecture as developed by maritime scholar Éric Rieth.Footnote 15
Studying these iconic oared vessels is challenging due to the scarcity of archaeological remains. Scholars must rely on written sources, pictorial representations, and comparative analysis from similar ships across different periods,Footnote 16 as no actual remains of a Lepanto-era war galley have been found.Footnote 17 Another notable challenge arises from the fact that Venetian galleys, often considered the archetype, have dominated scholarly attention. The Republic of Venice exerted a lasting and decisive influence on Mediterranean naval affairs, leaving behind a wealth of abundant and unique visual and written records.Footnote 18 While this trove of information is invaluable, it comes with a caveat. The tendency to generalize Venetian specifications and idiosyncrasies to all Mediterranean shipbuilding and galleys oversimplifies the complex reality.Footnote 19
For instance, Venetian galleys were faster under oars but weaker under sail, while Spanish and Western galleys featured permanent fighting structures above the bow artillery. Ottoman galleys, with lower bows and stern-focused fighting structures, used reinforced spurs to assault enemy ships, similar to the Spanish, taking advantage of their embarked troops. In contrast, the always short-of-manpower Venetians prioritized efficient artillery, using lighter and shorter guns than their Spanish counterparts, whose heavier vessels were consequently less maneuverable.Footnote 20 Fierce competition, secrecy in shipbuilding practices, copying one another, trial and error, and each region’s distinct knowledge, natural resources, necessities, and preferences contributed to Mediterranean galleys’ nonhomogeneous nature. Thus, the challenge for scholars extends beyond piecing together the puzzle of galley construction with insufficient pieces; it also involves identifying regional variations and unique characteristics within this intricate maritime tapestry.Footnote 21 These regional differences and the constant need for adaptation were vital for maintaining naval strength and readiness. As the Spanish Monarchy navigated these challenges, strong and effective leadership was crucial to keep forces operationally efficient and strategically prepared.
A NEW CAPTAIN GENERAL FOR THE MEDITERRANEAN
Galleys were short-lived vessels that required annual maintenance. In the early 1580s, the condition of the various galley squadrons was dire. The surplus of galleys resulting from the numerous captures at Lepanto had already been depleted, necessitating new ships in all squadrons. Galley captains faced diminishing forces and complained that most of their galleys were already too old. This posed military risks and escalated the expenses and challenges of preparing for the campaign season. Repairs were often conducted too late—due to unadvisable winter navigation and insufficient resources.Footnote 22 These issues were exacerbated for galleys operating in the Atlantic theater during the War of the Portuguese Succession (1580–83). Galleys played a decisive role in that war’s various naval battles and amphibious operations, especially in the conquest of the Azores, where a large French armada was defeated at Ponta Delgada/Terceira in 1582.Footnote 23 The Azores campaigns perfectly illustrated how naval dominance was integral to monarchical power, as controlling these oceanic islands was essential for consolidating the acquisition of the Portuguese Crown.Footnote 24 This success underscores that the interest in Atlantic naval power was intrinsically linked to the strengthening of a primarily Mediterranean monarchy. It demonstrates that, despite the so-called Atlantic turn, the strategic interests in both theaters were ultimately aligned from a political perspective.Footnote 25 Moreover, it highlights that the Mediterranean was never abandoned.Footnote 26 After securing the Portuguese throne and the Atlantic front, Philip II (r. 1556–98) decided to address Mediterranean and galley affairs in the context of his planned visit to the Crown of Aragon territories in 1585.Footnote 27
To begin with, a new Captain General of the Sea was appointed in 1584. The position had officially remained vacant since the death of Don John of Austria (1547–78), but in practice, it had been so for almost a decade (since he left for the Low Countries).Footnote 28 The individual chosen for this prestigious role was Gian Andrea Doria (1539/40–1606), whose appointment was not free from controversy. In the words of the imperial ambassador, “the Spaniards did not view it favorably as the majority of governments outside of Spain were held by Italians,” but especially because they felt “that the Marquis of Santa Cruz has not been sufficiently rewarded, considering his many years of service, but particularly for the last two victories over the French and the rebellious Portuguese [at the Azores].”Footnote 29 Although Gian Andrea was designated in 1583, because of the context the king instructed him to keep his appointment secret until further notice—“let this be silent and secret until its time.”Footnote 30 The office was put into practice and made public at the beginning of 1584. The Genoese patrician thus fulfilled a long-sought personal ambition by emulating his great-uncle and father figure, Andrea Doria (1466–1560), who had been the first to hold such a position. Gian Andrea Doria was both a prominent citizen of the Republic of Genoa and, as Prince of Melfi, a Neapolitan vassal of Philip II. This duality perfectly embodied the symbiotic relationship between Genoa and the Spanish Monarchy.Footnote 31
Gian Andrea’s military career did not reach the same heights that his great-uncle’s did. He faced some significant setbacks, and his actions at the Battle of Lepanto drew strong criticism from both rivals and allies.Footnote 32 Despite this, he held the complete trust of King Philip. His skills as an adviser, financier, and agent, and his role as a liaison between the Spanish Crown and the Republic of Genoa, made him indispensable. He was, however, only appointed Captain General of the Sea when the Mediterranean warfront calmed, and major campaigns against the Ottomans were not expected.Footnote 33 This prestigious military rank not only bestowed upon him supreme command over all galley squadrons and shipyards but also included the captaincy of the Real.Footnote 34
While there was a tradition of designating the king’s own galley as the royal galley and naming a ship carrying the monarch or any high-ranking authority Real, no distinctive structural elements set it apart from other galleys, aside from its decoration and role as flagship.Footnote 35 A clear example of this can be found in the ceremonial entry of Philip II into Portugal in 1581: “The Capitana [of Spain] galley was renamed La Real when His Majesty embarked on it.”Footnote 36 However, in the latter half of the sixteenth century, the so-called royal galley acquired a series of unique features that marked a clear distinction, establishing a new galley class. The Real was a significantly larger and faster galley, boasting more benches and rowers, intricate ornamentation, and superior status to all others. The one of 1619 was laudably portrayed as indescribable for its “grandeur, design, style, and architecture,” featuring “extensive gilding” and fine, exotic woods “which marvelously adorn its stern and bow,” as well as numerous flags and rich, colorful fabrics. Furthermore, “due to its width, it appears more like a parade ground than anything resembling a galley,” carrying “more than five hundred rowers.” For all these reasons, the Real “seemed like a sea monster, born of nature, rather than something material crafted by human artifice.”Footnote 37 Galleys of larger size, with designs and structures distinct from the so-called ordinary ones—understood as the standard type—were termed bastards, while smaller ones were called subtle. Bastard galleys often served as the flagship (Capitana) and vice-flagship (Patrona) and were sometimes also referred to as lantern galleys. Footnote 38
The Real was a superior bastard galley, the flagship for all the king and his allies’ galleys, and the one to hoist the royal standard. The first of this kind was made in 1568, on the occasion of the Christian coalition to be commanded by the king’s half-brother, Don John of Austria. Philip II commissioned an “extraordinary galley”Footnote 39:
A Royal Galley was to be built, surpassing the ordinary in size and speed, adorned with sculptures and paintings to make it more striking and worthy of contemplation. Embellished with stories, fables, figures, feats, inscriptions, hieroglyphics, sayings, and maxims, expressing the virtues that must converge in a Captain General of the Sea. So the galley itself would serve as a permanently open handbook.Footnote 40
It was a spectacular galley in every sense, constructed in Barcelona and decorated in Seville. This vessel had not only to serve as the flagship of a formidable Christian armada but also to project the power of the Monarchy to both allies and foes. Amid its reported exceptional seafaring qualities,Footnote 41 the galley, adorned with opulent and golden decorations, was enameled in glossy black, a departure from the typical reddish hue.Footnote 42 Although victorious, the Real of 1568 did not survive the Battle of Lepanto; it suffered severe damage while engaging with the Ottoman flagship. A new royal galley—the second one—featuring similar characteristics was built in Barcelona in 1572 and ornated in Genoa.Footnote 43
The Real made a profound impression and exacerbated a trend. Inspired by the Real’s example, galley captains, operating in an artistic context transitioning from Mannerism to Baroque, put much more effort into the ornamentation and ostentation of their vessels.Footnote 44 This increased cost, weight, and size, impairing the ships’ capabilities.Footnote 45 Larger and heavier galleys required more rowers. The constant shortage of rowers limited the number of vessels the Monarchy could deploy.Footnote 46 In addition to logistical and manpower challenges, it also harmed the performance of squadrons, which infuriated some ministers.Footnote 47 While costly in terms of operational effectiveness, display and show had significant political and social value. These displays reinforced political authority and were essential in the context of the era’s strategic considerations. Therefore, it is important to recognize that operational effectiveness was not the only thing that mattered. Scholars have focused too much on measuring relative effective strength and too little on this inestimable other aspect.Footnote 48 The political value of display and power projection played a crucial role.
Like the previous Captain General, Gian Andrea Doria received a royal galley.Footnote 49 However, because it was constructed before his appointment, the galley was not designed as royal but as a captain galley.Footnote 50 Therefore, only its status distinguished it from the rest of the flag and vice-flag galleys. It was sent to Genoa in 1584 to be decorated and enhanced to serve as a royal one.Footnote 51 As when the king entered Portugal, now the ship was to be prepared to transport the Duke of Savoy (r. 1580–1630) and his entire entourage to Barcelona for his wedding to Catherine Michaela (1567–97), Philip II’s daughter. Later, it would escort the new ducal couple to Italy.Footnote 52
Galleys also played an active role in the complex early modern world of hierarchy, etiquette, and protocol. The Real was considered the foremost in all of Christendom.Footnote 53 Therefore—theoretically—any other galley sailing in the Christian Mediterranean had to salute first and lower its banners before the flagship of the Catholic King.Footnote 54 This included the galleys of the Pope.Footnote 55 This practice of naval diplomacy illustrates a key insight of this study: the role of galleys as instruments of ceremonial and soft power in early modern geopolitics. The Real’s prominence symbolized and evidenced the Spanish Monarchy’s uncontested dominance, reinforcing its hegemonic status in the Western Mediterranean. Gian Andrea wanted to fully embody that primacy and prerogative. Hence, as soon as he received command of the captain galley that had been enhanced to royal rank only through ornamentation and symbolic status, he petitioned the king for a true royal galley.
The one from 1583 had twenty-seven benches, the same as all the capitanas.Footnote 56 Doria wanted a larger royal galley worthy of the position and authority they both incarnated: “It is only fair that there is some difference between it and the others.”Footnote 57 Due to his excellent care in transporting the dukes of Savoy, Philip II agreed to his request and commissioned the construction of a brand new royal galley—the third of this kind—in Barcelona in the autumn of 1586.Footnote 58 Building a galley of this caliber required the best possible experts.
A NEW MASTER SHIPWRIGHT FOR BARCELONA
The Renaissance saw a growing trend in elaborating and publishing treatises on naval construction to document and systematize technical knowledge. But it still remained relatively uncommon, particularly in earlier periods. Few treatises on naval construction exist, and even fewer are crafted directly by shipbuilders rather than scholars.Footnote 59 Jorge Juan (1713–73), a scientific naval officer of the Enlightenment, wrote with disdain in 1771 that naval construction had “always been in the hands of almost mere carpenters.” He believed that mathematics, mechanics, and geometry, knowledge not possessed by manual workers like carpenters, were indispensable for naval architecture.Footnote 60
In the sixteenth century, naval construction leaned more toward artisanal craftsmanship than a scientific discipline, relying heavily on empirical methods.Footnote 61 Although there were common practices and foundational standards, these could vary markedly by region, devoid of a standardized formula for operation. This diversity stemmed from the distinct knowledge, criteria, and techniques employed by various shipbuilders. While rules of thumb were prevalent, a basic understanding of trigonometry was also crucial. This knowledge was essential for designing the frames that shaped the hull.Footnote 62
In Barcelona and much of the Western Mediterranean, this craftsman was known as mestre d’aixa (Catalan), literally adze master, an evident reference to the primary tool used for carving wood.Footnote 63 Intriguingly, an adze master’s pride did not reside in the adze itself but in his molds.Footnote 64 These templates were the linchpin of his trade, instrumental in designing the myriad pieces that constituted the galley. Crafting these templates was a meticulous process involving cords of varied lengths; threads and red ochre for dyeing and marking lines; a compass, necessary for measuring and drawing circles, enabled the definition of precise points, essential for delineating the curvature of each piece. Once these templates took form, the master traced the lines onto different timbers, guiding his assistants in carving the desired shapes.Footnote 65 These molds were the adze master’s most closely guarded secret.
Shipwrights operated as a closed guild, maintaining a high degree of professional secrecy; their methods and techniques were only passed down to their sons and apprentices.Footnote 66 These barriers to knowledge transfer influenced the pace and direction of technological advancements in naval architecture. The secrecy extended not only to foes but also to friends and even those working under the same roof. A clear example of this occurred when a Genoese shipwright refused to share his knowledge with a Catalan colleague: “He has not allowed it…because he is Genoese and does not want to share this science to any vassal of Your Majesty (YM), except for his two sons and those of his nation.”Footnote 67
Amidst the naval arms race, in which galleys underwent constant modifications to outpace one anotherFootnote 68 and individual talent and knowledge played a crucial role, it is not surprising that states sought to hire renowned and skilled shipwrights. Through such recruitment, they secured talented individuals, thereby depriving rivals and enemies of their expertise while gaining valuable knowledge and information. Specialized workers acted as agents for knowledge transfer.Footnote 69 The Monarchy carried out these recruitments discreetly in hostile territories, such as Marseille or Venice. Responding to the captains’ request in the 1560s, Barcelona began constructing galleys following what could be defined as Genoese style, as they preferred these over the heavier ones made by Catalan shipwrights. Consequently, the shipyard was set under the direction of the Genoese master shipwright Bautista Jordán from 1567 until his passing in 1582.Footnote 70 He was succeeded by his son Bartolomé, who built the galley that was upgraded to royal status of 1583.Footnote 71
However, a significant shift unfolded in the Royal Shipyard of Barcelona in 1585. While the king was in the city, he addressed the issues plaguing the arsenal after a decade of underfunding and neglect.Footnote 72 Among other measures, he decided to designate a new foreman for the shipbuilders. Master shipwright Bartolomé Jordán was replaced by the Catalan Pedro Catalán. This appointment marked the end of over two decades of Genoese leadership in the galley factory—coinciding with the Monarchy’s military triumphs in the Mediterranean theater.Footnote 73
Master Pedro had been captive in Algiers for almost thirty years. Due to his exceptional skills and knowledge, he was placed in charge of the shipyard and forced to build ships for the pirates. Algerians valued him and refused to accept a ransom or exchange. The king provided the means for Master Pedro’s escape in 1582.Footnote 74 He first was sent to Seville and later went to Lisbon, where he constructed a captain galley. Accompanied by his subordinate and fellow escapee, the Ragusan Juan de Nicola, they were sent to Catalonia.
The abilities of these masters—especially those of Catalán—aroused certain suspicions. Serious flaws were detected in the flagship they constructed in Lisbon in 1584.Footnote 75 Consequently, a new Capitana for Portugal had to be commissioned, and its construction was entrusted to Master Jordán. According to a report by the royal inspector, Catalán and Nicola lacked skills and experience compared to Bartolomé Jordán. The Genoese, who had spent most of his life in Catalonia, had a profound understanding of the local forests, knew where to acquire materials at the best prices, and was familiar with naval carpenters and blacksmiths “as if they were his brothers,” understanding how to employ them effectively since he “knew the sufficiency of each one.” This made him “very adept at giving orders,” as he also could reward or reprimand those who deserved it. Additionally, he could “measure the land by feet” and was proficient at writing and counting, proving invaluable in managing the shipyard. On the other hand, Catalán and Nicola “not only lacked the necessary experience for the mentioned tasks but also could not read or write, which is highly essential for a master shipwright.”Footnote 76 Despite this, they were tasked to build the new Real for Doria and the Capitana for the Spanish squadron. A new Capitana for Portugal and six ordinary galleys were also commissioned in Barcelona.Footnote 77
A NEW REAL GALLEY: DISCUSSIONS AND CHALLENGES
The king mandated that the Real feature thirty-two benches, while the Capitana of Spain should have thirty and the Portuguese Capitana twenty-nine. This represented a clear hierarchy that, although not yet regulated, physically and materially underscored the authority and preeminence of one over others. This aligns with other elements within the Monarchy that had to be hierarchized, such as kingdoms, councils, and positions.Footnote 78 Concerned about the information regarding Master Pedro and wanting to avoid further complaints from Doria about the inadequate size and design of the ship, King Philip sought reports on the measurements of the ongoing galley constructions. These were forwarded to Gian Andrea for his assessment.Footnote 79 The response from Genoa contained strong criticism toward Barcelona.Footnote 80
While Gian Andrea was not a shipwright, his extensive seafaring experience and the fact that “being very young, [Andrea Doria] made me learn something about the way galleys were built” granted him sufficient credibility and expertise. Furthermore, he had convened “the best masters here” to discuss the matter, and all agreed that the dimensions “were very mistaken.”Footnote 81 It was noted that the Real measured sixty-six guas in length; however, with thirty-two benches and each bench requiring “two guas from one to another, the benches alone would take sixty-four guas, and there would be no [space] left for the stern and bow neck and cabin but two guas, and more than sixteen would be needed.” These same errors were replicated in the Capitana.Footnote 82
Doria forwarded the supposedly adequate measurements. In keel length (from stem to stern), it was to measure 56.398 meters, compared to the 52.668 meters projected by Catalán. This was the only dimension that exceeded the figures established in Barcelona. For the other three—deck beam at amidships, floor width, and depth in hold—the Genoese measurements were slightly smaller (fig. 1). This meant that the Real designed by the Genoese masters resulted in a longer but narrower ship, making it lighter and more hydrodynamic and consequently faster and more maneuverable. In contrast, omitting potential errors in proportions, Master Pedro’s measurements led to a heavier but sturdier galley, hence slower but more robust.Footnote 83
Figure 1. Schematic depiction of the Real and measurements comparison (scale 1:100) by A. Jorge Aguilera-López and Eliza C., 2023.
It is noteworthy that both reports incorporated paper models featuring the unit of measurement used in both Barcelona and Genoa: the gua and its submultiple, the palmo de gua (gua palm). Originating from the Mediterranean, the gua/goa/goue/gobito/cubito served as the western basin’s principal measurement unit for shipbuilding, generally equivalent to approximately 75 centimeters (cm). Each gua was divided into three gua palms. However, due to the lack of standardization during that period, the actual length of a gua varied significantly from one shore to another. Upon measuring the attached paper models, it can be observed that the gua palm employed in Barcelona measured 26.6 cm (1 gua = 79.8 cm), whereas the Genoese one measured 24.9 cm (1 gua = 74.7 cm). The latter closely aligns with the historically documented Genoese/Italian gua, which adheres to the standard equivalence. However, the same cannot be said for the Barcelonan/Catalan goa—or, more precisely, the one used by Master Pedro. This measurement does not correspond with other documented guas, showing a significant discrepancy from all but especially from the Barcelonan/Catalan one (table 1).
Table 1 Comparison between regional gua and gua palms (in centimeters)
There is the possibility that Master Pedro employed another regional variant, such as the one from the Algiers shoreline. While this is just a hypothesis, it would not be surprising, considering he spent much of his life there. The viceroy of Catalonia, Manrique de Lara (r. 1586–90), expressed concerns: “Although Master Pedro is highly renowned, he has never built this type of ship, which worries Secretary Andrés de Alva, and rightfully so. Even though he is a good man and worker, he has such a difficult temperament in understanding and explaining himself and is wholly set in his ways. In these matters, it can be well appreciated that he has lived and bossed among Moors.”Footnote 90 Master Pedro’s time in Algiers not only shaped his character but also honed his skills as a shipbuilder. His expertise likely lay in constructing galiots, ideal for raiding. This is supported by the detected flaws in the Portuguese Capitana he built in Lisbon, which seemed “more suited for navigating rivers than at sea.”Footnote 91 Pirates along the Barbary Coast favored galiots and lighter-oared vessels over galleys.Footnote 92
Regardless of the measurement unit Catalán used, the core issue was that the royal galley under construction was disproportionate. The Genoese measurements were requested from Barcelona to amend the work. Doria interpreted this as a sign that Masters Pedro and Nicola lacked the necessary skills: “I have seen and had countless galleys built, and good masters have never asked for measurements. Specifying the number of benches and rowers per bench sufficed.”Footnote 93 Consequently, Gian Andrea refused to provide the measurements, convinced that if the galley ended up poorly built, “they would later attempt to exculpate themselves using the given measurements.”Footnote 94 Philip II sided with Doria, leaving the Barcelonan masters to address the issue on their ownFootnote 95 (table 2).
Table 2 Comparison between galley-type sizes (in meters)
The measurements were not the only technical point of contention. Gian Andrea insisted on constructing the filos esmorzados (stringers) from fir (Abies) instead of pine (Pinus). He wanted them made with the same wood used for the masts.Footnote 100 The Barcelonan masters rejected this proposal not only because it would be much more expensive and potentially detrimental to the ship’s structure but also because it deviated from the traditional method of crafting these internal planks.Footnote 101 They viewed it as an unfounded whim: “Novelty is often sought not so much because it is considered better but out of weariness with what is known, and in this, there can be deception and even danger.”Footnote 102
Italian shipbuilders referred to them as filos amorsados, hence Doria’s Spanish adaptation to esmorzados. The modern Italian equivalent would be ammorsato, derived from morso (to bite)—a clear reference to the shape and use of the piece. Indentations were carved into these filos, which were fitted or embedded into the futtocks or frames (It. forchame; Sp. estamenara).Footnote 103 Filos were exteriors and interiors. Doria only refers to the interior ones, and it is not clear that they had these indentations carved since it is only mentioned that they were nailed. These upper-stringers could be referred to as a type of forro in Spanish.
The justification for Doria’s request stemmed from a thorough investigation by his best carpenters and as a result of what is now commonly referred to as industrial espionage, carried out in the French shipyard at Marseille. Although French galleys of this period were not highly regarded, they appeared to exhibit greater durability than their counterparts. The secret behind this lay in how they reinforced the interior of the ship’s hull. These filos esmorzados were elongated pieces of wood (planks) that were longitudinally nailed, particularly on the inner sides of the ship, to reinforce the overall structure. The conventional practice involved multiple short pine planks. However, Doria advocated for the employ of a smaller number—two or three—of much longer planks made from fir wood. Using longer pieces inherently enhanced their resistance compared to several joined pieces.Footnote 104 This insistence on using fir wood, despite traditional practices favoring pine, reflects a broader theme of innovation versus tradition in early modern shipbuilding. It illustrates the ongoing tension in shipbuilding practices between maintaining functional established methods and adopting new technologies to potentially enhance performance.
Gian Andrea had already applied this method to his own galleys with remarkable results: “My captain galley, recently dismantled after fifteen continuous years of sailing, often in winter and through many storms, when it was taken apart, was found still so robust that it could have sailed for another six years, even outperforming the Real [of 1583].”Footnote 105 He provided more compelling evidence. When the galleys Doria and Perla suffered an accident—due to human error—in the Tabarca islet (near Alicante) while chasing pirates,Footnote 106 “despite being built at the same time and encountering the same waves on the same rocks, the Doria, which had fir filos esmorzados, took days to sink, whereas the Perla took hours.”Footnote 107
Catalán and Nicola argued that fir wood was unsuitable for serving as filos due to its “spongy and soft quality and no firmness.” They insisted that pine was much more suitable. Doria countered that this posed no issue when the second bark was removed from the fir. He added that “because those filos were not in a part where water could reach, it did not matter if they were made of spongy wood. Using [fir] for masts or filos was very different. The latter were sawed and nailed with two or three very thick nails palm by palm. Thus, they could not break like masts, which had to support yards [entenas] and sails and endure the force of the winds without any other support.” Doria found it absurd that the Barcelonan masters primarily based their rejection on the notion that “pine was stronger than fir.” He argued that “there were other woods stronger than pine, like oak [Quercus]. Yet, they were not better than pine for galley building, as one should consider not only the firmness of the wood but also its lightness.”Footnote 108 Reinforcing the interior of the galley using oak filos had already been experimented with in Genoa, as recorded in a contract dated 1512 for the construction of a subtle galley for Andrea Doria.Footnote 109
Doria was justified in favoring fewer longer pieces over multiple shorter ones, considering that joints tended to be weaker. That issue was accentuated in long and narrow ships like galleys, where wave movement imposed greater stress on the middle of the vessel. Opting for a mountainous coniferous species like fir for the interior longitudinal reinforcement (stringer) was a wise choice, given its overall strength-to-weight ratio. Despite this, the shipwrights were right to be concerned. Their knowledge, rooted and shaped by experience, differed from what the Genoese demanded. Even if the use of fir for filos esmorzados represented a technical improvement, it required knowledge they lacked. Each wood species behaved differently, and Catalán and Nicola possessed the expertise to shape, carve, join, and bend specific species like the pine they preferred.Footnote 110
Beyond the technical disagreements between Doria and the Barcelonan masters, and the differing views on the physical properties of timber, the issue of cost also played a significant role. “From one [fir] mast, three filos esmorzados came out, costing 100 ducats when brought to this shipyard. Two filos came out from one pine, costing 48 reales, and five of these [pine] filos provided the same service as the three coming from the mast, costing 120 reales.”Footnote 111 In other words, making the planks in Doria’s manner was almost ten times more expensive (1.103 reales).Footnote 112 The substantial increase was because, by that time, the nearby forests traditionally supplying the arsenal had been depleted due to the intense exploitation of the past decades. Therefore, the timber had to be sourced from farther away. This was particularly noticeable for certain pieces, such as masts and yards, which had to be fetched from the Pyrenees, where the climate and topography made the work challenging, increased the cost, and slowed down the process. These trees had to be extracted from the forests and taken to a tributary of the Ebro River. Once they reached Tortosa, they were transported by sea to Barcelona.Footnote 113
The Captain General insisted that not all the interior planks (stringers) had to be made of fir, only three parts: “the one that encounters the wale [encinta] and the two that follow [below].” He added that they could be made from a fir tree with some defect that prevented it from serving as a mast. That way, the expense was not much. Quite the opposite: “It can be said that we were not spending more but rather less. Because, even if the galley would cost three or four hundred more escudos,Footnote 114 thousands would be saved in the ship’s longer-lasting time and seaworthiness.”Footnote 115
Whereas Doria was not reluctant to spare expenses, Viceroy Manrique had a different opinion. Besides the inherent difficulties in governing Catalonia during those years, he had to do so without adequate resources.Footnote 116 On top of that, he had the mission of continuing the expansion works of the shipyard and building galleys, whose costs were rising. This did not prevent the king from ordering more—initially, nine galleys, later increased to fifteen (including a patrona)Footnote 117—but without providing the funds for it: “Only God worked the miracle of maintaining a legion of people with five loaves and two fish, and I cannot do what YM orders me because more than 20,000 ducats are already owed,” the viceroy wrote bitterly. The preparations on the Atlantic shores of the armada that would attempt to invade England in 1588 made it impossible to send money to Barcelona: “I humbly beg that if [YM] wishes to have galleys, provide the money to make them” since, despite pleas, promises, and even lies, creditors were no longer willing to extend further credit.Footnote 118
The discussion and disagreement over the royal galley and the scarcity of funds meant that the galleys—initially planned for May 1587—were still far from completion.Footnote 119 Given the urgent need for replacements and reinforcements to the squadrons of Spain and Portugal, King Philip decided to prioritize the construction of the ordinary ones.Footnote 120 To Doria’s dismay, the two contentious galleys—the Real and the Capitana of Spain—were put on hold.Footnote 121 Consequently, a hundred adze masters and caulkers were sent from Genoa to Barcelona to reinforce the insufficient workforce.Footnote 122
In the debate over the filos esmorzados (stringers), the viceroy and the Council of War both ultimately agreed with Gian Andrea’s preference, and this decision was later sanctioned by the king.Footnote 123 The galleys were not ready for the summer, but at least the eleven ordinary ones were prepared for launch in early October 1587. Only the royal, the flagships, and vice-flagship galleys remained unfinished. However, the Genoese shipbuilders—who had arrived in May—were soon dismissed, as they refused to continue working after more than three months without receiving their salary. Bringing the mast and yards for the Real from the forests was also impossible due to the inability to pay for transportation.Footnote 124 All this frustrated Manrique de Lara because “this shipyard is in such [bad] condition that it only serves to attract the attention of the foreigners who come here and murmur against the viceroy, who must be to blame.”Footnote 125 Madrid promised to send money but simultaneously ordered the construction of eight more galleys for the following year.Footnote 126 This was to the despair of the viceroy: “I beg YM again to provide because if with tears or blood that I would willingly shed, [debts] could be redeemed, it would have already been done.”Footnote 127
Beyond the aforementioned concerns, the expense of these fifteen galleys proved to be unexpectedly high, “greater than if there were twenty.”Footnote 128 One of the factors that significantly increased the price was the Real. Its peculiarities, as well as its size, caused everything to be more expensive.Footnote 129 The inspector reported that “the Real and the Capitana of Spain have consumed and continue to consume timber equivalent to more than five galleys,” necessitating the cutting and transportation of additional wood from the forests.Footnote 130 The Genoese Master Jordán was much more critical and precise in his report. He blamed the high cost on the viceroy’s mismanagement, the unwise leadership of Masters Catalán and Nicola,Footnote 131 and, above all, their demonstrated lack of skill and knowledge:
They have made and unmade many works two or three times on many galleys, and this is due to not knowing how to do what they have boasted and still boast…. This is significantly detrimental because, in addition to the need for doubled and tripled timber and workers’ wages, both for undoing and redoing, it is doubled [and tripled] the number of nails…. Moreover, those masters made galleys with higher gunwales than usual and required much more timber, nails, and hands. They have also made many sculptural works on them, especially on the sterns, which was not done in the past. Likewise, they have crafted all the sterns of walnut [Juglans], which is very expensive in this land. For that reason, in the time of Master Bautista, my father, they were made of pine.Footnote 132
In any case, it was too late to address any of those issues. All that remained was to complete the construction of those galleys. The Real was finalized in early 1589, with the hull caulked, the upperworks ready, and the quickworks coated with tallow.Footnote 133 The only thing left was to wait for the arrival of the galleys to assist with the launch of the Real. Once in the water, the rigging and oars were attached, and the necessary crew embarked. Gian Andrea’s son towed and escorted the Real in April with nine galleys.Footnote 134
A FLAWED MARVEL: ORNAMENTATION AND DILEMMA
The royal galley was taken to Genoa for ornamentation. Specific information about this has not yet been found, but relevant details likely exist in the Genoese archives.Footnote 135 An idea, however, can be drawn based on the decoration of the Capitana of Spain, which was done in Barcelona and was partially recorded in the shipyard account books:
The new bastard galley hull of thirty benches, named Our Lady of Montserrat in the shipyard. Completed from stern to bow with rambades, rambadettes, gilded and red balusters, and all kinds of big and small wooden rails and frames with their masks of well-crafted and gilded heads of Turks. With its walnut stern, [cabin] structure, busts of characters, lattices, balusters, two arch pieces, column. Everything was carved, gilded, and painted in colors and figures extending to the bow, stern benches with frames adorned with boxwood [Buxus] and brazilwood [Paubrasilia], with ninety-six small silver shields carved and mounted in the middle of the frames and floorboard of the stern.Footnote 136
In addition to all the rich and elaborate sculpture work (fig. 2), the use of imported tropical wood from America undoubtedly stands out—this is the first time I have documented it in Barcelona.Footnote 137 The 1568 Real stern—made in Seville—was of top quality walnut and also had “other colored woods, such as ebony (Diospyros) and from the [West] Indies.”Footnote 138 The Real that Philip III (r. 1598–1621) used in his 1619 royal visit to Portugal had black ebony of unspecified origin, which could have been sourced from Sri Lanka or India (Diospyros ebenum).Footnote 139 Regarding Doria’s Real, it was only noted that it had thirty-two benches and was named Our Lady before launching. In contrast to the Capitana, here there were no sumptuous decorative elements; the few visible components, such as the stern, were simply necessary structural parts made of pine. These were temporary components, roughly crafted and intended to be replaced and enhanced by luxurious ones in Genoa.Footnote 140
Figure 2. Approximate replica of Don John’s Real, completed in 1971 and on display at the Maritime Museum of Barcelona. The image shows the elaborate galley’s stern. Photograph, J. Biel – MMB, 2006.
This accounting documentation does not provide more detailed descriptions of these elements. Despite that, the rarity of such data renders this information extremely valuable. The accounting documents also mentions other elements, such as different fabrics in various colors for the awning and other decorative and weather-protective textiles used throughout the ship, in addition to “two large flags of Rouen canvas for two standards with the royal arms,” “eight half-figurines of soldiers of cypress [Cupressus], all gilded for the lantern [fanal], and a crowned lion also of cypress for the top of the said lantern,” “a large gilded walnut column [estanterol] inlaid and well-crafted, and a large square and gilded lantern with its wire cover with 172 Venice mirrors,” “nine lamps [linternas], seven of them large, and the other two small for signals.”Footnote 141
Alongside the gilded sculptural elements, the inventory records the use of red. Indeed, the upperworks of galleys—the part above the hull’s waterline—were generally painted in red.Footnote 142 The distinctive red used was achieved by using red ochre pigment mixed with fish oil as a medium.Footnote 143 Mal Lara’s (1524–71) description notes that Don John’s Real was painted “all black.”Footnote 144 Despite this, most modern and recent representations have assumed it was painted red—notably, the Maritime Museum of Barcelona replica built between 1965 and 1971 (fig. 2).Footnote 145 However, several pictorial representations from the seventeenth century onward usually depict flagship galleys painted black, contrasting with the rest in red (fig. 3). During the tarring process, the hulls tended to darken, staining the wood a very dark brown-blackish color, uneven depending on the pitch and flame effects. The black color depicted was bright and uniform, more akin to enamel or varnish than regular paint. It is reasonable to assume that Doria’s Real was also enameled in black.Footnote 146 Successive royal galleys were largely responsible for imposing this practice.Footnote 147 The knights of Malta decided to follow the trend from 1625 on: “Upon assuming command, this general [Gaspar de Alderete] ordered the Capitana, which had previously been painted a very fine vermilion, to be painted entirely black in imitation of the Spanish Crown’s flagships, which at that time distinguished themselves from the others with black paint.”Footnote 148 Could the black and gold flagship trend have had influence beyond the Mediterranean? The Sovereign of the Seas, the flagship of Charles I of England (r. 1625–49), utilized this exact two-color scheme, which Redding describes as “uncharacteristic” and “not an English tradition.” This color scheme was considered both effective and magnificent, and the practice of “painting English warships in this style continued for the remainder of the century.”Footnote 149
Figure 3. Didier Barra, View of Naples, 1647. Oil on canvas, 46 x 69.75 in. (116.9 x 177.2 cm). Wadsworth Atheneum Museum of Art, Hartford, CT, USA. The Ella Gallup Sumner and Mary Catlin Sumner Collection Fund, 1963.39. The black galleys (capitanas of the pope, Malta, and Tuscany) contrast with the other red ones (two sailing, five anchored).
It is worth remembering that black was an expensive color and that it became one of the most characteristic features of Spanish fashion at the time. The use of black color from American pigments—logwood (Haematoxylum campechianum)—was another symbolic element used by Philip II to spread Spanish supremacy and influence over Europe.Footnote 150 In the seventeenth century, France became the new hegemon in the Western Mediterranean.Footnote 151 This endeavor to assert French preeminence extended beyond military and political aspects to include symbolic and ceremonial practices, such as naval salutes.Footnote 152 Even in encounters between equals, the instructions stated that the royal standard of France was required to be “saluted first, in whatever sea they meet, even on the coasts of Spain.”Footnote 153 Successive royal galleys of France were painted blue with numerous gilded fleurs-de-lis. The best known is Louis XIV’s (r. 1643–1715) Réale from 1694.Footnote 154 The Sun King’s goal was to distinguish his flagships from others—precisely what Philip II had achieved with his black Reals from 1568 onward.
In any case, given Doria’s great zeal, demonstrated interest, and long trajectory as an artistic patron, it is easy to assume that Gian Andrea spared no resources in making his galley a magnificent floating masterpiece. The elaborate decorations and preparations Doria used for the Capitana at Lepanto can be referenced. Many of the artists—painters, sculptors, and glassmakers—he employed for this project were also involved in embellishing his palace in Fassolo (Villa del Principe). The stern area of the galley was adorned with several carved panels and scenes, also featuring sculptures of “two large monsters,” “four small monsters,” and “two dragons.” Another distinctive element was the “very famous fanal,” a spherical lantern described as “a crystal globe, with colors and the zodiac in gold.”Footnote 155 This emphasis on lavish ornamentation underscores a key insight of this study: the dual role of galleys as both warships and status symbols, reflecting the intricate relationship between military power and political prestige in the early modern Mediterranean.
Setting aside the Real’s appearance, what can be said about its design and sailing capabilities? The report on Doria’s much-desired Real has not yet been found. However, a frank letter from the king reveals that it was a great disappointment: “Bad business is that the royal galley made in Barcelona, after having cost so much time, effort, and money, has turned out so useless. Report in detail about the flaws and their reasons, and who may be to blame. Find out if it could be repaired and remedied there during winter.”Footnote 156
The Capitana of Spain, also built by Master Pedro, was evidently no better: “It is of no use and is infested with shipworms [Teredo navalis],” a report noted, adding that the best course of action was to beach it and reuse any salvageable materials.Footnote 157 By contrast, the Capitana of Portugal, made by Master Jordán, had replaced the Capitana of Spain—both in role and in name—by 1590.Footnote 158 After serving for five and a half years, it was heavily damaged from towing many ships—up the Guadalquivir River to Seville—and receiving “English shots in various battles.” And yet, with the necessary repairs, it could sail for at least another four years.Footnote 159
It is inevitable to think of Master Pedro Catalán in any attempt to identify a culprit. He was a disruptive and controversial force from the moment he arrived at the Royal Shipyard. His presence and actions ultimately led to the transfer of Bartolomé Jordán to Lisbon against his will.Footnote 160 Given this background and the numerous reports against him, it would have been reasonable to expect that Catalán would be held at least partially responsible. But nothing of the sort happened. He seemed to enjoy a solid reputation and had forged strong political connections, most notably with Viceroy Manrique de Lara.Footnote 161
Manrique de Lara always supported him: “He is an honest man, as he has shown throughout his life. He is a tremendous worker and faithful in his trade, a distinguished man in his craft, of which I can vouch as an eyewitness. Therefore, I consider him very worthy of being rewarded.”Footnote 162 Curiously, the viceroy—with admittedly little knowledge of galleys—could certify a set of skills that others—truly knowledgeable—constantly questioned. In the same letter in which Manrique praises Catalán, he explains that he ordered him to embark on the galleys of Spain for a while as a learning experience.Footnote 163
Pedro Catalán remained in charge in Barcelona until he died in 1594, leaving behind the position of master shipwright vacant for years. His second-in-command, Juan de Nicola, and the former foreman, Bartolomé Jordán, both sought his position, but the king declined to appoint either of them.Footnote 164 Choosing Nicola would mean continuing in the footsteps of Master Pedro, while reinstating Jordán would leave the galleys in the Atlantic region without an indispensable figure.Footnote 165 Other candidates associated with Jordán included his nephew and disciple, Francisco Gandolfo,Footnote 166 and his fellow apprentice Lorenzo Massabò, who had learned the trade from Jordán’s father, Master Bautista.Footnote 167 Francisco Corrón, who had been in Barcelona since 1592, also applied.Footnote 168 Undecided, the king turned to his Captain General of the Sea, instructing him to “find out where there might be a famous master so we can bring him to Barcelona so he could raise men who could succeed him in the trade.”Footnote 169 Doria recommended his trusted shipwright, Jerónimo Verde. Notably, none of the candidates were Catalan: Nicola was from Ragusa and the rest were Genoese.
This time, Philip II did not want to rush the appointment until he had truly verified the shipbuilder’s skills. He ordered the candidates to each build a galley, and the one who made the best would assume the position.Footnote 170 Unfortunately, the king passed away before selecting a new master shipwright. Instead, the appointment was made by Philip III in 1599, and Jerónimo Verde—Doria’s candidate—was chosen.Footnote 171 Gian Andrea had sent Master Verde to Barcelona in late 1597 to take charge of building a new royal galley (the fourth one).Footnote 172 Verde’s appointment marked the return of Genoese direction and style in Barcelona.Footnote 173 Philip II’s desire to “raise men who could succeed him” was quite literal.Footnote 174 Except during periods of civil war, the Royal Shipyard of Barcelona remained under the direction of one of Jerónimo Verde’s descendants until the shipyard’s closure in 1746.Footnote 175
A REAL TO RULE THE SEA: POWER PROJECTION COSTS
By the late 1580s, building galleys had become more expensive than ever before. While the exact cost of the royal galley is unknown, records show that the fifteen galleys built between 1586 and 1588 amounted to at least 52,500 ducats, averaging 3,500 ducats per galley—a scandalous figure, nearly 70 percent higher than the estimated 2,055 ducats required for a properly planned ordinary galley in 1590.Footnote 176 The Council of War had warned that those fifteen galleys would prove more expensive than constructing twenty—and they were right, but even that warning underestimated the cost, as the final expense was equivalent to that of twenty-five. It is reasonable to presume that Doria’s galley was the costliest among the many tens built in Barcelona throughout the sixteenth century.
Whatever the hypothetical figure for the Real’s construction might be, it paled compared to its monstrous annual operating expense: 64,442 ducats. This included the rations for all rowers, sailors, and officers (617 men in total); the clothing and care of the rowers; the galley’s maintenance, repair, and spare parts; and all personnel salaries (including that of Doria, who received 12,000 ducats).Footnote 177 By contrast, the annual maintenance of an ordinary galley with fifty soldiers on board did not exceed 9,500 ducats.Footnote 178 The expenditure was disproportionate, so King Philip proposed to Doria to build him a new royal galley entirely to his liking at the shipyard of Naples.Footnote 179 The condition was that it had to be smaller, since, in 1590, there had been an express order “to moderate and reduce them to the old ways”: the royal galley would have thirty benches, the captain galleys twenty-eight, and the ordinary ones twenty-six.Footnote 180 The thirty-two-bench Real would be reserved for solemn occasions like royal entries or weddings.Footnote 181 And while in this sense Philip II pursued a return to the old ways, he simultaneously proposed a novelty: building the royal galley away from Barcelona.Footnote 182
Doria agreed to construct a new and smaller royal galley in Naples. Simultaneously, however, he stated that he would refrain from sailing it until the captains of the respective squadrons also utilized smaller galleys, “for it would not be right they had larger galleys than the Real.” Nevertheless, to avoid any appearance of insolence, he deferred the ultimate decision to Philip II, stating, “If YM so desires, I will not only sail in a galley smaller than the others but in a skiff.”Footnote 183 The king dismissed the proposal since all the captain galleys had recently been renewed, making the expenditure both significant and unnecessary.
Galleys were not just ships with excellent technical and tactical qualities that the bigger broadside Atlantic ships lacked. Mediterranean galley warfare—based on ramming, boarding, and hand-to-hand combat—evoked the aristocratic ideal of personal war and face-to-face combat. This connection reinforced galleys’ symbolic value as instruments of noble authority. They served not only to exert real military power but also to project the authority, prestige, and dignity of their captain, ruler, and state.Footnote 184 For this reason, King Philip agreed to build Gian Andrea the largest galley in the entire Mediterranean and, later, did not insist or order him to switch to a smaller galley that would make him equal to the others. Ultimately, the Real represented the Catholic King, the House of Austria, and the Spanish Monarchy.Footnote 185
Certainly, this mode of propaganda, self-representation, and projection was something everyone was aware of and participated in. That is why the high nobility that captained or owned galleys—especially in Italy—engaged in a kind of prestige competition and invested such large sums in turning their short-lived flagship galleys into true floating works of art. The various squadrons of the king and the galleys of states like Savoy, the Republic of Genoa, Tuscany, the Papal States, and Malta all took part in this. A hierarchy was established at sea that often prevailed at the will of Spain, breaking certain long-established maritime and land traditions and practices.Footnote 186 This led to slights, disagreements, diplomatic incidents, and even violent confrontations.Footnote 187 While the primacy of the Real was acknowledged, the conflict arose over who occupied the next rank, who greeted whom first, or who had more right to sail on each flank and in the vanguard and rearguard of the Real.Footnote 188
The galley squadrons were tools by which the Monarchy asserted hegemony, control, and patronage.Footnote 189 Many independent Italian sovereigns and nobles were on the king’s payroll, having arranged an asiento (contract) to serve him with their galleys. Another formula was to sell the king their galleys but remain in service as condottieri or galley captains. However, after Lepanto, the number of these asientos diminished.Footnote 190 Those formerly contracted galleys later served as the foundation or consolidation of permanent navies, as was the case with Savoy, Tuscany, or the pope.Footnote 191 They became profitable by engaging in corsair activities against Muslims and benefiting from the extensive market for the slave trade.Footnote 192
The Mediterranean galley warfare had been an instrument of integration and domination for the Spanish Monarchy. The fight against Muslims enjoyed the support of the Mediterranean territories and its people, and it was led by the king, who acted as protector and patron.Footnote 193 The absence of war and the diminished Ottoman threat reduced the need to depend on the Spanish Monarchy. Italy became less reliant on the protection of the Catholic King, as several of its states had begun developing their own means to defend their coasts. The Monarchy had been very aware of all this over the years. Gian Andrea warned that it was not convenient “for the service of YM that the potentates of Italy have sufficient galleys.” After the death of Pope Sixtus V (r. 1585–90)—who actively supported the papal galleys—Doria hoped that Urban VII (r. 1590), of Genoese origin and elevated with Spanish support, “would not be in the mood to maintain the galleys that his predecessor had armed.”Footnote 194
The autonomy of the Italians diminished Philip II’s authority over all of Italy and the Western Mediterranean, where the Catholic King expected uncontested sovereignty—in the words of Gian Andrea:
I have sometimes observed some appearance of a league among them [the papal galleys] and those of this Republic [Genoa] and those of the Grand Duke [of Tuscany], and at times, some seem to forget the many obligations they must to YM. It could be inconvenient for the future, so I have considered that it would be wise for YM to order the purchase of the [galleys] of the Ecclesiastical State, which would cease these inconveniences.Footnote 195
The Monarchy needed to keep its armadas of galleys operational due to their crucial roles in connecting and protecting its territories.Footnote 196 But no less important, they also kept allies and rivals in check: they were fantastic tools for projecting power, and in this role the royal galley especially stood out. Although the Real from 1586–89 was a disappointment for its construction time, cost, design, and high maintenance, it sailed until late 1598.Footnote 197 It was replaced by the galley built by Master Verde that next year: “a galley that in majesty and grandeur exceeded all the others, with three lanterns and the stern completely gilded.”Footnote 198 As it neared completion, the new Real was said to be “one of the best ships ever launched.” This news “delighted” Philip II, who was already on his deathbed.Footnote 199
CONCLUSION
This case study examines the construction of the Spanish flagship galley the Real, uncovering the complexities of early modern Mediterranean shipbuilding and the evolving dynamics within the Royal Shipyard of Barcelona and the Western Mediterranean as the Ottoman threat receded. It highlights the complex interplay between political power, technological innovation, and economic pressures; the Real embodied both military might and symbolic authority, reflecting the Spanish Monarchy’s hegemonic aspirations.
Gian Andrea Doria, already a prominent figure, expanded his influence after becoming Captain General of the Sea in 1583. He rose to be one of Philip II’s key advisors on Mediterranean affairs, earning a seat on the Council of State by 1594. Doria and his Real exemplified the geopolitical ambitions of the Spanish Monarchy. His plea for a larger, more distinguished galley underscored the symbolic importance of these vessels in asserting status and authority, both on the battlefield and within diplomatic protocols, mirroring courtly behaviors. The Real’s role as the flagship of Catholic nations showcased the correlation between military might and symbolic representation—between hard and soft power.
The construction of the Real in 1586 became a battleground of ideas, balancing tradition and innovation in Mediterranean shipbuilding. Modifications such as incorporating artillery and altering the oar system reflected the evolving demands of warfare. Debates between Doria and Master Catalán underscored technical and economic challenges and how they influenced decision-making and impacted the shipbuilding process. The ornamental grandeur of galleys had practical implications as well—exotic materials and elaborate decorations increased costs and size, required more rowers, and complicated logistics, yet simultaneously elevated the galley’s role as an instrument of princely power. Naval technology and aesthetics intertwined with political objectives.
This article defends the royal galley as a distinct class, recognizing its unique structural, ceremonial, and functional characteristics. As a tool of power projection, the Real embodied the grandeur and authority of the king, his dynasty, and his monarchy. Its role transcended naval capabilities to become an instrument of hegemonic influence. By examining its construction flaws, financial difficulties, and geopolitical implications, this study reveals the broader challenges of naval might and symbolism in the late sixteenth century.
In contributing to the scholarly discourse on maritime history, this research also sheds light on the multifaceted factors that shaped naval power dynamics in the early modern period. The story of the Real offers a deeper understanding of how technological advancements, economic pressures, and political ambitions converged to influence the maritime strategies of the most powerful Christian state of the time. It highlights the vital interplay between technology, politics, and power in the early modern Mediterranean, and invites further exploration into the role of naval power in shaping broader geopolitical landscapes.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Archival Sources
Archivo General de Simancas,Valladolid (AGS), Contaduría Mayor de Cuentas (CMC), Segunda Época (2EP). Cited as AGS, CMC, 2EP, with the register number, following the legajo/folio (folder/document) format.
AGS, Estado (EST). Cited as AGS, EST, with the register number, following the legajo/folio (folder/document) format.
AGS, Guerra y Marina (GyM). Cited as AGS, GyM, with the register number, following the legajo/folio (folder/document) format.
Biblioteca Riccardiana di Firenze (Florence), manuscript 1978.
A. Jorge Aguilera-López is a doctoral researcher at the University of Helsinki and a research associate at the University of Coimbra specializing in early modern maritime history. His research focuses on the construction of Mediterranean galleys, exploring their environmental, technological, and social dimensions. Beyond Mediterranean naval history, his academic interests include the early political, commercial, and maritime connections between the Scando-Baltic and Iberian regions. He has collaborated with institutions such as the Maritime Museum of Barcelona and coauthored a monograph.
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