When the _chaine_ was completed, its wearers were made to stand up. They
formed themselves in couples, the chain running betwixt two ranks, and
they walked round the yard to take their first lesson in their galling
exercise. They are thus fettered together till they reach Brest or
Toulon. The choice is left to them of walking or being carried in carts,
more provender being given to those who make the journey on foot.
The only part of their habiliments, which seemed left to themselves to
provide, was a covering for the head, the red or green cap being given
them only upon entering the _bagne_. For their journey, some of the
fellows had provided themselves with strange head-gear, mostly made of
straw; one had a three-cocked hat; others, one of all kinds of _outre_
shapes. A prime vagabond had woven for himself a complete and
magnificent tiara, precisely like the Roman Pontiff's in form, and
surmounted by a cross. This was the _Pope_, the Pope of the _Chaine_,
and I never heard a shout so appalling, as that with which his
appearance was welcomed by the prisoners from the windows of the
building. They danced, they yelled, tore and tumbled over each other in
the most exuberant delight, thrusting their crowded heads and distorted
features almost through the gratings. I have gleaned from it quite an
idea of a scene of merriment and exultation _below_.
Pages:
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52