CHAPTER XXXIV.

BUT the march past still continued. This army, which had presented so

curious a spectacle in camp, had a no less extraordinary appearance

under arms. Sometimes a horde of almost naked negroes would come along

armed with clubs and tomahawks, marching to the notes of a goat’s horn

like mere savages; then would come regiments of mulattoes, dressed in

the English or Spanish manner, well armed and equipped, regulating the

pace by the roll of the drum; then a band of negresses and their

children carrying forks and spits, then some tag-rag bent under the

weight of an old musket without lock or barrel; _griotes_ with their

feathered aprons, _griots_ dancing with hideous contortions, and singing

incoherent airs to the accompaniment of guitars, tom-toms, and balafos.

Then would be a procession of priests, or Obi men, half-castes,

quarter-castes, free mulattoes, or wandering hordes of escaped slaves

with a proud look of liberty on their faces and shining muskets on their

shoulders, dragging in their ranks well-filled waggons, or some

artillery taken from the whites, which were looked on more as trophies

than as military engines, and yelling out at the top of their voices the

songs of Grand-Pré and Oua-Nassé. Above their heads floated flags,

banners, and standards of every form, colour, and device—white, red,

tricolour, with the lilies, with the cap of liberty, bearing

inscriptions—_Death to Priests and Nobles_; _Long live Religion_;

_Liberty and Equality_; _Long live the King_; _Viva España_; _No more

Tyrants_, &c.;—a confusion of sentiments which showed that the

insurgents were a mere crowd collected together, with ideas as different

as were the men who composed it. On passing in their turn before the

cave the companies drooped their banners, and Biassou returned the

salute. He addressed every band either in praise or censure, and each

word that dropped from his mouth was received by his men with fanatical

respect or superstitious dread.

The wave of savage soldiery passed away at last. I confess that the

sight that had at first afforded some distraction to my feelings,

finished by wearying me. The sun went down as the last ranks filed away,

and his last rays cast a copper-coloured hue upon the granite portals of

the cave.

Under Sentence of Death; Or, a Criminal's Last Hours · 第 34 / 55 章