The Continental Monthly, Vol. 1, No. 1, January 1862: Devoted to Literature and National PolicyVarious
History
The Continental Monthly, Vol. 1, No. 1, January 1862: Devoted to Literature and National Policy
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; United States -- Politics and government -- 19th century -- Periodicals
The first sounds I heard were a strange low, deep wail,--a sound of many
voices drawn out in perfect unison, and only dying away with the breath
itself, which indeed was longer sustained than could be done by any
singer I ever yet heard. This was followed by a second wail, in the same
style, but shrill, like the sound of musical glasses, and giving a
similar shiver to the nerves. And after a third wail in another key, the
statue-like figures moved and formed two diagonal lines opposite to each
other, their backs to opposite angles of the square. One by one, they
then approached the huge bowls in which the black drink was boiling,
and, in rotation, dipped a gourd, and took, with a most reverential
expression, a long, deep draught each. The next part of the ceremony
with them was somewhat curious; but the rapt expression of the
worshippers took away the effect which such an evolution would be apt to
produce on a fastidious stomach if connected with an uninterested head.
In short, these dignitaries, without moving a muscle of the face, or a
joint of the body, after a few seconds, and with great solemnity,
ejected what had been swallowed upon the ground. It seemed as if given
forth in the spirit of a libation among the ancients. The chiefs having
afterwards tasted, each replacing the gourd, and returning to his stand
before the next came forward, they all went to their seats, and two old
men approached and handed round gourds full to the other parties present
who had remained stationary. The looks on each side were as full of
solemn awe as I have ever seen at any Christian ceremony; and certainly
the awe was more universal than usually pervades our churches.
This done, a chief made a speech, but without rising. It was listened to
with profound attention, and in one place, at a pause, called forth a
very unanimous and emphatic shout of approbation,--a long sound,
seemingly of two syllables, but uttered by all in the same breath. I
asked a professed _linkister_ what the speech was about; but he was
either indifferent or ignorant, for he only replied that it was an
appeal to them not to forsake their ancient ceremonies, but to remain
faithful in their fulfilment to the last, and that it wound up with a
sort of explanatory dissertation upon the forms which were to follow.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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