He ordered that a little rowing and sailing galley, employed to transmit orders, should come alongside of the "Real," and he embarked in her with Juan de Soto and D. Luis de Córdoba, to visit, one by one, all the galleys of the centre division and of the right wing; those of the left he gave over to his lieutenant the Knight Commander, Luis de Requesens. In all the galleys D. John gave orders, the forethought and prudence of which could be appreciated later. He ordered that in all the galleys the high peaks should be cut off, to ensure the more effectual working of the forward guns. He made them take off the chains and give arms to those galley slaves who were condemned to row for ordinary offences, promising them pardon if they gave a good account of themselves in the fight. These poor creatures wept and embraced the boatswains who came to give them arms, swearing to die, as, in truth, most of them did, for the Faith, the King, and D. John of Austria. He also ordered on deck the best food in the holds, and leather bottles of wine to be divided among the crews, and then went among them to speak to them and to encourage them. D. John went unarmed, with an ivory crucifix in his hand, that he afterwards gave to his confessor Fr. Miguel Servia, which existed in the convent of Jesus, outside the walls of Palma in Majorca until 1835. His words were not polished nor his arguments intricate; he only told them that they were fighting for the faith, and that there was no heaven for cowards. But he said it all so earnestly and courteously, and his declarations and promises so evidently came from his heart, that they filled all with enthusiasm and the wish to be brave, as if he were filling them with some of his own heroism. He gave medals to some, money to others, to others scapularies and rosaries, and, when he had no more to give, he bestowed his hat on one and divided his gloves between two more. And when a Captain offered the galley slave who had received it fifty ducats for one of the gloves, the man promptly refused, and stuck it in his hat as if it had been the finest plume. The two fleets came face to face at eleven o'clock in the morning, scarcely a league dividing them. Then in a moment Ali Pasha could understand the extent of his error, seeing ship after ship that he had not counted on coming up the narrow channel of Oxia, and Marco Antonio Arrozo narrates that, turning round to the Christian captives who were chained to the benches, he said to them, deadly pale, "Brothers! Do what is your duty in return for the good treatment I have given you. If I am victorious, I promise you liberty, and if to-day is your day, God gives it to you."