On the 14th the Fantis took the initiative, and attacked the Ashantis.
The fight was a mere repetition of that of a week before, and about
midday the Fantis, having used up all their ammunition, fell back again
to Cape Coast.
“Now,” the general said to Frank, “that we have beaten the Fantis we
shall march down to Elmina.”
Leaving the main road at Dunquah the army moved slowly through the bush
towards Elmina, thirty miles distant, halting in the woods some eight
miles from the town, and twelve from Cape Coast.
“I am going,” the general said, “to look at the English forts. My white
friend will go with me.”
With fifty of his warriors Ammon Quatia left the camp, and crossing a
stream came down upon the sea coast, a short distance west of Elmina.
With them were several of the Elmina tribe, who had come up to the camp
to welcome the Ashantis. They approached to within three or four hundred
yards of the fort, which was separated from them by a river.
The forts on the west coast of Africa, not being built to resist
artillery, are merely barracks surrounded by high walls sufficiently
thick to allow men to walk in single file along the top, to fire over
the parapet. The tops of the walls being castellated, the buildings have
an appearance of much strength. The fort of Elmina is of considerable
size, with a barrack and officers' quarters within it. One side faces
the river, and another the sea.
“It is a wonderful fort,” the Ashanti general said, much impressed by
its appearance.
“Yes,” Frank replied. “And there are cannon on the top, those great
black things you see sticking out. Those are guns, and each carries
balls enough to kill a hundred men with each shot.”
The general looked for some time attentively. “But you have castles in
the white men's country, how do you take them?”
“We bring a great many cannon throwing balls of iron as big as my head,”
Frank answered, “and so knock a great hole in the wall and then rush
in.”
“But if there are no cannon?” the general urged.
“We never attack a castle without cannon,” Frank said. “But if we had
no cannon we might try to starve the people out; but you cannot do that
here, because they would land food from the sea.”
The general looked puzzled. “Why do the white men come here?
“They come to trade,” he said presently.
“Yes, they come to trade,” Frank replied.
“And they have no other reason?”
“No,” Frank said. “They do not want to take land, because the white man
cannot work in so hot a climate.”
“Then if he could not trade he would go away?” the general asked.
“Yes,” Frank agreed, “if he could do no trade it would be no use
remaining here.”
“We will let him do no trade,” the general said, brightening up. “If we
cannot take the forts we will surround them closely, and no trade can
come in and out. Then the white man will have to go away. As to the
Fantis we will destroy them, and the white men will have no one to fight
for them.”
“But there are white troops,” Frank said.
“White soldiers?” the Ashanti asked surprised. “I thought it was only
black soldiers that fought for the whites. The whites are few, they are
traders.”
“The English are many,” Frank said earnestly. “For every man that the
King of Ashanti could send to fight, England could send ten. There are
white soldiers, numbers of them, but they are not sent here. They are
kept at home to fight other white nations, the French and the Dutch and
the Danes, and many others, just as the kings of Africa fight against
each other. They are not sent here because the climate kills the whites,
so to guard the white traders here we hire black soldiers; but, when
it is known in England that the King of Ashanti is fighting against our
forts, they will send white troops.”
Ammon Quatia was thoughtful for some time. “If they come,” he said at
length, “the fevers will kill them. The white man cannot live in the
swamps. Your friend, the white guest of the king, died at Coomassie.”
“Yes,” Frank asserted, “but he had been nearly a year in the country
before he died. Three weeks will be enough for an English army to march
from Cape Coast to Coomassie. A few might die, but most of them would
get there.”
“Coomassie!” the general exclaimed in surprise. “The white men would be
mad to think of marching against the city of the great king. We should
make great fetish, and they would all die when they had crossed the
river.”
“I don't think, General,” Frank said dryly, “that the fetishes of the
black man have any effect upon the white men. A fetish has power when it
is believed in. A man who knows that his enemy has made a fetish against
him is afraid. His blood becomes like water and he dies. But the whites
do not believe in fetishes. They laugh at them, and then the fetishes
cannot hurt them.”
The general said no more, but turned thoughtfully and retired to his
camp. It was tantalizing to Frank to see the Union Jack waving within
sight, and to know that friends were so near and yet to be unable to
stretch out his hand to them.
He was now dressed in all respects like a native, the king having, soon
after his arrival at Coomassie, sent a present of clothes such as were
worn by his nobles, saying that the people would not notice them so much
if they were dressed like themselves. Consequently, had the party been
seen from the castle walls the appearance of an Englishman among them
would have been unobserved.
Three days later the general with a similar party crossed the Sweet
river at night, and proceeded along the sea coast to within a few
hundred yards of Cape Coast Castle, whose appearance pleased him no more
than that of Elmina had done.
The Ashantis were now better supplied with food, as they were able to
depend upon the Elmina tribes who cultivated a considerable extent of
ground, and to add to the stock, the Ashanti soldiers were set to work
to aid in planting a larger extent of ground than usual, a proof in
Frank's mind that the general contemplated making a long stay, and
blockading Elmina and Cape Coast into surrender if he could not carry
them by assault.
The natives of Africa are capable of great exertion for a time, but
their habitual attitude is that of extreme laziness. One week's work in
the year suffices to plant a sufficient amount of ground to supply the
wants of a family. The seed only requires casting into the earth, and
soon the ground will be covered with melons and pumpkins. Sweet potatoes
and yams demand no greater cultivation, and the bananas and plantains
require simply to be cut. For fifty-one weeks in the year the negro
simply sits down and watches his crops grow. To people like these time
is of absolutely no value. Their wants are few. Their garden furnishes
them with tobacco. They make drink from the palm or by fermenting the
juice of the cocoanut. The fowls that wander about in the clearings
suffice when carried down occasionally to the port, to pay for the few
yards of calico and strings of beads which are all that is necessary for
the clothing and decoration of a family.
Such people are never in a hurry. To wait means to do nothing. To
do nothing is their highest joy. Their tomorrow means a month hence,
directly, a week. If, then, the Ashanti army had been detained for one
year or five before the English settlements, it would have been a matter
of indifference to them, so long as they could obtain food. Their women
were with them, for the wife and daughters of each warrior had carried
on head, with the army, his household goods, a tiny stool, a few
calabashes for cooking, a mat to sleep on, and baskets high piled with
provisions. They were there to collect sticks, to cook food, draw water,
bring fire for his pipe, minister to his pleasures. He could have no
more if he were at home, and was contented to wait as long as the king
ordered, were that time years distant.
Frank was often filled with disgust at seeing these noble savages lying
indolently from morn till night while their wives went miles in the
forest searching for pineapples and fruits, bent down and prematurely
aged by toil and hardship. Many of the young girls among the negroes are
pretty, with their soft eyes and skin like velvet, their merry laugh and
graceful figures. But in a very few years all this disappears, and by
middle age they are bent, and wrinkled, and old. All loads are carried
by women, with the exception only of hammocks, which are exclusively
carried by men.
Thus, then, the Ashantis settled down to what appeared to Frank to be an
interminable business, and what rendered it more tantalizing was, that
the morning and evening guns at the English forts could be plainly
heard.
It was on the 7th of June that Ammon Quatia reconnoitered Elmina, and
the news came next day that a hundred and ten white men in red coats had
landed from a ship which had arrived that morning off the coast. Frank
judged from the description that these must be marines from a ship of
war. In this he was correct, as they consisted of marines and marine
artillerymen under Lieutenant Colonel Festing, who had just arrived from
England. Three days later the Ashanti general, with a portion of his
force, moved down close to Elmina; Frank was told to accompany them.
Shortly afterwards the news came that the Elminas were all ordered
to lay down their arms. They replied by going over in a body to the
Ashantis. Ammon Quatia determined at once to attack the town, but as he
was advancing, the guns of the ships of war opened fire upon the native
town of Elmina, which lay to the west of the European quarter.
The sound of such heavy cannon, differing widely from anything they had
ever heard before, caused the Ashantis to pause in astonishment. Then
came the howl of the shells, which exploded in rapid succession in
the village, from which flames began immediately to rise. After a
few minutes' hesitation the Ashantis and Elminas again advanced. The
general, who was carried in a chair upon the shoulders of four men, took
his post on rising ground near the burning village.
“There,” he said, “the English soldiers are coming out of the fort. Now
you will see.”
The little body of marines and the blue jackets of the Barraconta
deployed in line as they sallied from the fort. The Ashantis opened fire
upon them, but they were out of range of the slugs. As soon as the line
was formed the English opened fire, and the Ashantis were perfectly
astonished at the incessant rattle of musketry from so small a body of
men. But it was not all noise, for the Snider bullets swept among the
crowded body of blacks, mowing them down in considerable numbers. In two
minutes the Ashantis turned and ran. The general's bearers, in spite of
his shouts, hurried away with him with the others, and Frank would have
taken this opportunity to escape had not two of his guards seized him by
the arms and hauled him along, while the other two kept close behind.
As soon as they had passed over the crest of the rise, and the British
fire had ceased, Ammon Quatia leaped from his chair and threw himself
among his flying troops, striking them right and left with his staff,
and hurling imprecations upon them.
“If you do not stop and return against the whites,” he said, “I will
send every one of you back to Coomassie, and there you will be put to
death as cowards.”
The threat sufficed. The fugitives rallied, and in a few minutes were
ready to march back again. It was the surprise created by the wonderful
sustained fire of the breech loaders, rather than the actual loss they
inflicted, which caused the panic.
In the meantime, believing that the Ashantis had retired, the naval
contingent went back to their boats, when the Dutch vice consul, having
ascended a hill to look round, saw that Ammon Quatia had made a detour
with his troops, and was marching against the town from the east, where
he would not be exposed to the fire of the fort. He instantly ran back
with the news.
The marines and the thirty West Indian soldiers in the fort at once
marched out, and met the Ashantis just as they were entering the town.
The fight was a severe one, and for a time neither side appeared to have
the advantage, and Frank, who, under the care of his guards, was a few
hundred yards in the rear, was filled with dismay at observing that the
Ashantis, in spite of the heavy loss they were suffering, were gaining
ground and pressing forward bravely. Suddenly he gave a shout of joy,
for on a rise on the flank of the Ashantis appeared the sailors of the
Barraconta, who had been led round from the boats by Lieutenant Wells,
R. N., who was in command. The instant these took up their position they
opened a heavy fire upon the flank of the Ashantis, who, dismayed by
this attack by fresh foes, lost heart and at once fled hastily. In the
two engagements they had lost nearly four hundred men. Frank, of course,
retired with the beaten Ashantis, and that evening Ammon Quatia told
him that the arms of the white men were too good, and that he should not
attack them again in the open.
“Their guns shoot farther, as well as quicker, than ours,” he said. “Our
slugs are no use against the heavy bullets, at a distance; but in the
woods, where you cannot see twenty feet among the trees, it will be
different. If I do not attack them they must attack me, or their trade
will be starved out. When they come into the woods you will see that we
shall eat them up.”
Several weeks now passed quietly. There was news that there was
great sickness among the white soldiers, and, indeed, with scarce an
exception, the marines first sent out were invalided home; but a hundred
and fifty more arrived to take their place. Some detachments of the 2d
West Indian regiment came down to join their comrades from Sierra Leone,
and the situation remained unchanged.
One night towards the end of August a messenger arrived and there was an
immediate stir.
“Now,” the general said to Frank, “you are going to see us fight the
white men. Some of the big ships have gone to the mouth of the Prah,
and we believe that they are going to land in boats. You will see. The
Elmina tribes are going to attack, but I shall take some of my men to
help.”
Taking fifty picked warriors Ammon Quatia started at once. They marched
all night towards the west, and at daybreak joined the Elminas. These
took post in the brushwood lining the river. The general with a dozen
men, taking Frank, went down near the mouth of the river to reconnoiter.
The ships lay more than a mile off the shore. Presently a half dozen
boats were lowered, filled with men, and taken in tow by a steam launch.
It was seen that they were making for the mouth of the river.
“Now let us go back,” Ammon Quatia said. “You will see what we shall
do.”
Frank felt full of excitement. He saw the English running into an
ambuscade, and he determined, even if it should cost him his life, to
warn them. Presently they heard the sharp puffs of the steam launch. The
boats were within three hundred yards.
Frank stepped forward and was about to give a warning shout when Ammon
Quatia's eye fell upon him. The expression of his face revealed his
intention to the Ashanti, who in an instant sprang upon him and hurled
him to the ground. Instantly a dozen hands seized him, and, in obedience
to the general's order, fastened a bandage tightly across his mouth, and
then bound him, standing against a tree, where he could observe what was
going on. The incident had occupied but a minute, and Frank heard the
pant of the steam launch coming nearer and nearer. Presently through
the bushes he caught a glimpse of it, and then, as it came along, of the
boats towing behind. The Elminas and Ashantis were lying upon the ground
with their guns in front of them.
The boats were but fifteen yards from the bank. When they were abreast
Ammon Quatia shouted the word of command, and a stream of fire shot out
from the bushes. In the boats all was confusion. Several were killed and
many wounded by the deadly volley, among the latter Commodore Commerell
himself, and two or three of his officers. The launch now attempted
to turn round, and the marines in the boats opened fire upon their
invisible foes, who replied steadily. In five minutes from the first
shot being fired all was over, the launch was steaming down with the
boats in tow towards the mouth of the river, the exulting shouts of the
natives ringing in the ears of those on board.
The position of Frank had not been a pleasant one while the fight
had lasted, for the English rifle bullets sang close to him in quick
succession, one striking the tree only a few inches above his head. He
was doubtful, too, as to what his fate would be at the termination of
the fight.
Fortunately Ammon Quatia was in the highest spirits at his victory. He
ordered Frank to be at once unbound.
“There, you see,” he said, “the whites are of no use. They cannot fight.
They run with their eyes shut into danger. So it will be if they attack
us on the land. You were foolish. Why did you wish to call out? Are you
not well treated? Are you not the king's guest? Am I not your friend?”
“I am well treated, and you are my friend,” Frank said, “but the English
are my countrymen. I am sure that were you in the hands of the English,
and you saw a party of your countrymen marching into danger, you would
call out and warn them, even if you knew that you would be killed for
doing so.”
“I do not know,” the Ashanti said candidly. “I cannot say what I should
do, but you were brave to run the risk, and I'm not angry with you.
Only, in future when we go to attack the English, I must gag you to
prevent your giving the alarm.”
“That is fair enough,” Frank said, pleased that the matter had passed
off so well, “only another time do not stick me upright against a tree
where I may be killed by English bullets. I had a narrow escape of it
this time, you see,” and he pointed to the hole in the trunk of the
tree.
“I am sorry,” the Ashanti general said, with an air of real concern. “I
did not think of your being in danger, I only wished you to have a good
sight of the battle; next time I will put you in a safer place.”
They then returned to the camp.
The next day a distant cannonade was heard, and at nightfall the news
came that the English fleet had bombarded and burnt several Elmina
villages at the mouth of the Prah.
“Ah,” the general said, “the English have great ships and great guns.
They can fight on the seaside and round their forts, but they cannot
drag their guns through the forests and swamps.”
“No,” Frank agreed. “It would not be possible to drag heavy artillery.”
“No,” Ammon Quatia repeated exultingly. “When they are beyond the
shelter of their ships they are no good whatever. We will kill them
all.”
The wet season had now set in, in earnest, and the suffering of the
Ashantis were very great. Accustomed as many of them were to high lying
lands free of trees, the miasma from the swamps was well nigh as fatal
to them as it would be to Europeans. Thousands died, and many of the
rest were worn by fever to mere shadows.
“Do you think,” Ammon Quatia said to Frank one day, “that it is possible
to blow up a whole town with powder?”
“It would be possible if there were powder enough,” Frank said,
wondering what could be the motive of the question.
“They say that the English have put powder in holes all over Cape Coast,
and my people are afraid to go. The guns of the fort could not shoot
over the whole town, and there are few white soldiers there; but my men
fear to be blown up in the air.”
“Yes,” Frank said gravely. “The danger might be great. It is better that
the Ashantis should keep away from the town. But if the fever goes on as
at present the army will melt away.”
“Ten thousand more men are coming down when the rains are over. The king
says that something must be done. There is talk in the English forts
that more white troops are coming out from England. If this is so I
shall not attack the towns, but shall wait for them to come into the
woods for me. Then you will see.”
“Do they say there are many troops?” Frank asked anxiously.
“No; they say only some white officers, but this is foolishness. What
could white officers do without soldiers? As for the Fantis they are
cowards, they are only good to carry burdens and to hoe the ground. They
are women and not men.”
During this time, when the damp rose so thick and steaming that
everything was saturated with it, Frank had a very sharp attack of
fever, and was for a fortnight, just after the repulse of the attack on
Elmina, completely prostrated. Such an attack would at his first landing
have carried him off, but he was now getting acclimatized, and his
supply of quinine was abundant. With its aid he saved a great many lives
among the Ashantis, and many little presents in the way of fruit and
birds did he receive from his patients.
“I wish I could let you go,” the general said to him one day. “You are
a good white man, and my soldiers love you for the pains you take going
amongst them when they are sick, and giving them the medicine of the
whites. But I dare not do it. As you know when the king is wroth the
greatest tremble, and I dare not tell the king that I have let you
go. Were it otherwise I would gladly do so. I have written to the king
telling him that you have saved the lives of many here. It may be that
he will order you to be released.”