Chap. I.—B. S.] 
GENERAL OLARTE. 
3 
negroes being killed on tire spot, and a good many 
others mortally wounded. 
The next morning, tbat is, on tbe 25th of March, 
1866, everybody went to inspect the scene of action. 
The corpses of the negroes had been left as a warning 
on the ground, and I have seldom seen more brutal 
faces. Afterwards I passed a mean-looking building, 
where a crowd was gathering, and there saw a colonel 
of the rebels, more than two-thirds negro, just in the 
act of dying. Once before this man had been in arms 
against the Eepublic, and he had been banished in 
consequence ; but recently he had taken the liberty of 
returning, and was now paying the penalty of his folly. 
He was dressed in full uniform, and stretched out on 
the floor, closely surrounded by a crowd of negroes 
and Californian gold-diggers. His poor old mother 
was by his side, uttering frantic shrieks; but the rest 
of the crowd exhibited no sign of sympathy, and no 
sooner had he drawn his last breath than four sturdy 
negroes carried him off as if he had been a mere log 
of wood, though he had just died in the vain attempt 
to obtain for them greater liberty, or rather say licence; 
for in New Granada, of which the Isthmus of Panama 
forms a part, all the inhabitants, of whatever colour, 
have equal privileges. 
General Olarte, the saviour of society in this in¬ 
stance, is a fine, soldier-like man, with handsome 
features, and a splendid jet-black beard. 1 ‘ The moment 
I looked into his face I knew the negro was doomed.” 
There was something there which plainly told that 
he knew the cowardly disposition of the blacks, and 
