" or _Fecia_,
"eloquent men," are considered as much higher in rank. They take part in
all affairs of the country, and their advice is sought, for they dispense
at will praise or blame. It is they who express the national sentiment of
each tribe, and in case of war their accents uplift warriors, encourage the
brave, and wither the cowardly. They accompany themselves with a Basque
drum. Some, however, have with them one or two musicians who, after each
couplet, play an air on the flute as a refrain.[5]

[5] Hanoteau, Introduction.

In war-songs it is remarkable to see with what rapidity historical memories
are lost. The most ancient lay of this kind does not go beyond the conquest
of Algiers by the French. The most recent songs treat of contemporary
events. Nothing of the heroic traditions of the Berbers has survived in
their memory, and it is the Arab annalists who show us the role they have
played in history. If the songs relating to the conquest of Algeria had not
been gathered half a century ago, they would doubtless have been lost, or
nearly so, to-day. At that time, however, the remembrance was still alive,
and the poets quickly crystallized in song the rapidity of the triumph of
France, which represents their civilization:

"From the day when the Consul left Algiers,
The powerful French have gathered their hosts:
Now the Turks have gone, without hope of return,
Algiers the beautiful is wrested from them.

"Unhappy Isle that they built in the desert,
With vaults of limestone and brick;
The celestial guardian who over them watched has withdrawn.
Who can resist the power of God?

"The forts that surround Algiers like stars,
Are bereft of their masters;
The baptized ones have entered.
The Christian religion now is triumphant,
O my eyes, weep tears of blood, weep evermore!

"They are beasts of burden without cruppers,
Their backs are loaded,
Under a bushel their unkempt heads are hidden,
They speak a _patois_ unintelligible,
You can understand nothing they say.

"The combat with these gloomy invaders
Is like the first ploughing of a virgin soil,
To which the harrowing implements
Are rude and painful;
Their attack is terrible.

"They drag their cannons with them,
And know how to use them, the impious ones;
When they fire, the smoke forms in thick clouds:
They are charged with shrapnel,
Which falls like the hail of approaching spring.
Unfortunate