A WALK ROUND WHYDAH.
The three following days enabled us to study the topography of Whydah.
The present town stands about 1·50-2 direct miles north of the sea;
separated from the shore by a broad leek-green swamp, by a narrow
lagoon, and by a high sandbank, whose tufted palms and palmyras, of a
deep invisible green approaching black, form a hogsback, over which the
masts of shipping only can be seen from the houses. The site wears the
tricolour of S’a Leone,—light and milky-blue sky, verdigris grass, and
bright red argillaceous soil, with a blending shade of grey. The
“ferruginous-looking clay,” which in India and China has been suspected
of emitting a “pestiferous mineral gas,” and of causing the “_cachexia
loci_,” seems here to lose part of its injurious power. The town is not
exceedingly unhealthy, despite its extreme filth, and although the deep
holes from which the building material has been extracted are as great a
nuisance as in Abeokuta and Sokoto. Indeed, as a rule, it is less deadly
than other places on the Slave Coast, especially Lagos and Badagry. The
nights are cool, and the day-breeze is, if anything, somewhat too strong
for safety. At this season the people do not suffer from mosquitoes,
“much provoking the exercise of a man’s nails,” as the old traveller has
it.
Beneath the surface soil there is a substratum of pure white sand
overlying argil deeply tinctured with iron oxide from the northern
hills; and another bed of pure sand is supported by white clay to a
depth of thirty-five feet: it is supposed that below this figure marine
deposits would occur. The highest part of the town, that is to say the
west end, is not more than forty feet above the sea, and this we may
assume to be the height of the first floor of the English Fort, which
lies about the centre. After a shower the land is as viscid and muddy as
that about Upper Norwood, and such indeed is the condition of the whole
country, especially at Kana and in the capital. The earth when powdered,
puddled, and exposed to the sun, becomes hard like bricks, which could
be made, but which are not wanted. The old English fort has lasted
upwards of a century.
The greatest length of the town, which extends from south-east to north-
west, is about two miles by half a mile in depth. There is no attempt at
fortification, as there is in the capital; but every house could be held
against musketry. From the beach a few of the tallest habitations,
backed by giant trees, meet the view, and prepare the visitor for
something grandiose. The squalor within, however, contrasts sharply with
the picturesque aspect from without. Whydah is a ruined place,
everything showing decay, and during the last three years, it has
changed much for the worse. As in all Yoruba towns, the houses are
scattered, and, except round the principal market-place, there is far
more bush than building. The environs are either marshes or fields,
palm-orchards, or bosquets of great but savage beauty; the fine and
highly-cultivated farms found near Whydah by Mr. Duncan[44] no longer
exist.
The population of the town, which could accommodate 50,000 souls, is
variously estimated. Some have raised it to 30,000. Dr. M‘Leod (1803)
calculates 20,000. M. Wallon (1858) proposes 20,000-25,000, but he is by
no means a correct observer. The French Mission, which has perhaps the
best chance of ascertaining the truth, lays down the number at 12,000;
and during war this may be reduced to half. The Christians (Catholics)
exceed 600; about 200 boys are known to the missionaries, and on an
average during the year the latter baptise 110. The fathers are also of
opinion that the population diminishes.
The word “Whydah” is a compound of blunders. It should be written Hwe-
dah,[45] and be applied to the once prosperous and populous little
kingdom whose capital was Savi. A “bush town” to the westward, supposed
to have been founded and to be still held by the aboriginal Whydahs, who
fled from the massacres of Dahome, still retains the name Hwe-dah. The
celebrated slave-station which we have dubbed “Whydah,” is known to the
people as Gre-hwe or Gle-hwe,[46] “Plantation-house.”
A very brief _résumé_ of its stirring past is here necessary. According
to tradition, Whydah, as I shall still call it, was originally a den of
water-thieves and pirates, who paid unwilling allegiance to the kings of
Savi. About the middle of the seventeenth century it rose to the rank of
a prosperous ivory mart and slave port. In 1725, it was first attacked
by Agaja the Conqueror, fourth King of Dahome, the Guadja Trudo of the
History, nominally for selling to him muskets without locks, really
because, like all African monarchs, the height of his ambition was a
point on the seaboard where he could trade direct with Europeans. The
place after capture was called by him “plantation-house,” meaning that
it must supply food to Agbome the capital. So the History informs us the
King of Eyeo (Oyo) used to say that Ardrah (Allada) was “Eyeo’s
Calabash,” out of which nobody should be permitted to eat but the king
himself.
The Europeans, ever greedy of change in these dull lands, seem at first
to have favoured Dahome against Whydah. For which reason, and because
they are officially called “King’s Houses,” the Forts receive certain
honours. Before the Viceroy can leave the town, and when he returns to
it,[47] he must visit them officially in person, and he must pray at the
Portuguese Fort, which is held to be the head-quarters of the white
man’s faith. He enters with his suite, and as the King’s representative,
he wears his sword; this, however, as well as the fetishes with which he
is hung round, must, previous to the function, be removed. Before the
present establishment was sent, the black priests at Whydah used to
offer him holy water; now it is refused, and he walks to the font to
_barbouiller_ his face; the missioners perform prayers, but without
their sacramental robes, and he follows suit to the best of his ability.
The King often sends a message requesting the orisons of the white men,
which are not refused to him; and Christianity being a recognised
religion in Dahome, on the day of S. John—midsummer—he transmits by his
Viceroy a pot of oil and a bottle of rum as his acknowledgment of faith.
These viceregal visits have at times been dangerous: in 1745, the Eunuch
Yevo-gan “Tanga,” raising the standard of revolt, proposed to seize the
English Fort, and was prevented only by the vigilance of the governor,
Mr. Gregory. Offences committed in the “King’s houses” are visited with
a double penalty; a native stealing from them will surely be put to
death: on the other hand, he may take sanctuary in and cannot be ejected
from the Portuguese Fort without the consent of the missioners. The
English Fort has the shameful distinction of being protected by two
fetishes, Dohen and Ajaruma, the Defenders of White men.[48]
Whydah, like the capital, is a congeries of villages divided into five
“salams” or quarters, each under its own caboceer, and governed by the
Viceroy, who has dwarfed the minor officials to mere captains. These are
1. Ahwanjigo, or Salam Français, on the north-west and west, French
Town, directly under the Viceroy.
2. Ajudo, Ajido Chacha, or Brazilian Town, under the captain, Nodofré.
3. Sogbáji, or English town: it has no governor; the King urged me to
take it, but I declined, without receiving orders from home.
4. Dukomen, Portuguese Town, on the east and west, under the Caboceer
Bonyon. These four quarters have their forts[49]: the last is
5. Zóbeme, or Market town, lately under the Caboceer Nyonun, whose
successor will be presently appointed.
I now propose to conduct the reader through the town, and to describe
its principal sites.
Beginning from the south-east, we remark the De-nun or toll-house which
guards the entrance of every Dahoman town, and the multitude of little
fetish huts, where the trader, after doing his devoir to the King, is
expected to be not less dutiful to the gods. The streets are mere
continuations of the bush-paths, but except in the wettest weather, they
are not bad walking after Sandy Lagos. They are formed by the walls of
the compounds and by the backs of the houses, which are all built in a
uniform manner. The material is the red _pisé_ of Britanny and Sind
heaped up in three or four courses, but by law never more: each course
is from a foot and a half to two feet high; the material has neither
straw nor stone, but sometimes, as in Popo, oyster-shell is used to
strengthen it. Each layer is covered during erection with a weather
thatch, and is left to dry, for three days in a harmattan, and for ten
in the wet seasons: it presently hardens to the consistency of
freestone, and is, in fact, the national _adobe_. The rain torrents wash
away the softer parts, and cut cracks down the sides if not protected
from above: a certain mixture of salt in the soil causes the base to
crumble the more readily, because here they do not, as on the Gold
Coast, support it by growing cactus. A careful man repairs his wall in
the early “dries.” The establishments are extensive, sometimes covering
acres. I saw only one being built, whilst many allowed me to walk over
the broken-down walls, and almost all were externally in ruins. As in
Asiatic Turkey, however, the interior often belies the wretched
exterior, and behind the blown-off thatch, leaving bare ribs and poles
perilously protruding, there are snug inner rooms. The poorer classes
have compounds of matting. The roof, not unlike that of an East Indian
bungalow, is made of palm, palmyra, and thick grass, mounted on a frame
of lopped and cleaned branches, with girders of bamboo; and often it is
raised in the “flying” form, to secure coolness. There are no windows,
except in the Forts. Their places are taken by doors opening under the
projecting eaves, that rest upon stout posts and trunks, especially
those of the valuable and abundant palmyra.
Striking into the main street, the tolerably straight road, which,
running from east to west, bisects the town, we sight the Portuguese
fort, the smallest but the best situated for quiet and coolness. Of
these buildings there are now four at Whydah, in order of seniority,
French, Brazilian, English, and Portuguese. The first-named people began
the trade, and the second is probably erected upon the old Dutch
factory, although the name is clean forgotten. The Brandenburgher
(Prussian) African Company also built a strong factory at Whydah in
1684, but it long ago disappeared. With the exception of the Brazilian
Fort, all these buildings lie in a line from E.S.E. to W.N.W.: after the
stone defences of the Gold Coast, these swish establishments are by no
means imposing, and, except in the case of the Frenchman, for “Fort” we
must read “Factory” or “School.”
The Portuguese Fort is surrounded by a moat, whose depth is concealed by
a mass of vegetation: the people of the country prefer for defence a
ditch in this state. The defences, a square compound bastioned at the
angles, and the battery of rusty guns, are here purposely neglected. The
main building, a large double-storied house, with walls thick as an old
Norman castle, fronts westward. Lately repaired, it has a central saloon
flanked by dormitories, and a long refectory on the ground-floor. It is
pierced with a deep hollow gateway, protected outside by two honeycombed
guns. Over it is the Lusitanian scutcheon, minus the wooden crown, which
perished during a late fire. Portuguese ordinances are still affixed to
the door, and at the Southern bastion the blue and white flag yet flies
on high days and holidays. In the compound are a detached chapel and
belfry with two bells, dateless, but belonging to the former occupants:
both are of swish work, and their mat roofs are distinguished from afar
by two little wooden crosses. On the north and fronting the chapel is a
range of small ground-floor rooms and refectory. These the missionaries
find less unhealthy, curious to say, than the double-storied building,
where, they assert, the sea-breeze gives them fever. They have been
careful, however, to dig under their _pian’ terreno_, and to lay down a
board flooring, whilst they look forward to raising houses on piles six
feet high with a draught of air beneath. All is industry in this “Fort,”
a garden and a southern range of buildings are being made, quarters for
the workmen and school-children are already available, and the church
and belfry are considered to be merely temporary.
The “Vicariat Apostolique de Dahomé,” was erected by the Holy Father in
1860, and its spiritual direction was entrusted to the new congregation
of the African Missions, whose mother-house is at Lyons, 243, Rue de la
Guillotière. In 1860 the congregation of the Propaganda named as
superior of this mission the priest François Borghero, of Genoa, member
of the congregation of African Missions, whose superior-general,
residing at Lyons, is M. l’Abbé Augustin Planque, of Lille. The first
despatch of missionaries left Toulon, January 3rd, 1861, on board
H.I.M.S. Amazone. It was composed of Messrs. les Abbés F. Borghero
(Italian), François Fernandez, a Spaniard of the diocese of Lugo, in
Galicia (died in 1863, at Whydah), and Louis Eddé, a Frenchman of the
diocese of Chatres (he died _en route_ at S’a Leone). The two first
named arrived at Whydah April 18th, 1861; on May 6th of the same year
they took possession of their present “Fort,” by permission of the
Dahoman authorities, and with the consent of the Portuguese resident at
Whydah. Since the departure of M. Iréné Lafitte, who is intended for one
of the European establishments, the _personnel_ is composed of six
members.[50] There are ten boarders; the number of the other scholars
greatly varies, because the boys attend or stay away as they please. Of
adults, I do not believe that a single convert has been made; and the
reverend fathers would do well to turn their attention towards Lagos and
Abeokuta.
This Vicariat is not obnoxious to the charge commonly brought against
Catholic establishments, namely, that though ardent, enduring, and self-
sacrificing, they are too accommodating to heathenism, and thus they are
unabiding; whilst Protestant missions, like the constitution which
hatches them, are respectable, comfortable, and feeble, offering
salaries to married men, who in squabbles about outfit, passage,
furlough, and conveyance of children, manage to spend about £500,000 per
annum. Their uncompromising opposition of idolatry has more than once
brought the members into trouble. In November, 1861, M. Borghero visited
the King at Agbome, and the list of his demands may be found in the
published account of his journey to the capital.[51] In March, 1863, the
fort was struck by the lightning-god, Khevioso, the Shango of the Egbas;
and they are not wanting who suppose that the fetishes, having been
worsted in dispute by the Padres, took the opportunity of a storm to
commit the arson. As the inmates impiously extinguished the fire, they
were heavily fined; and, on refusing to pay, the Father-superior was
imprisoned. In June of the same year occurred another dispute, about a
sacred snake that was unceremoniously ejected from the mission premises,
and doubtless this anti-heathenism will bring them to further grief.
They look upon things _en noir_, and naturally desire, but with little
hope, to see Whydah in civilized hands. I found them intelligent,
amiable, and devoted men, in whose society time sped pleasantly and
profitably. To the excellent Superior especially I had reason to be
grateful for the loan of vocabularies and other papers. If I say too
little, it is for fear of expressing too much.
Near the French Mission, and at the south-eastern end of the town, is
the establishment of M. J. Domingo Martinez, the best house in “Whydah.”
The compound walls are, to obviate fire, tiled, not thatched, and a
small grove of orange trees enlivens the interior. There is an old
ground-floor tenement, by no means uncomfortable, with large, lofty, and
cool rooms, furnished with musical boxes[52] and other knick-knacks,
whilst portraits and oil-painting, rarities in unartistic Africa, depend
from the walls; and near it a large double-storied tenement, also tiled,
is being built as a dwelling-place and as a store for oil trading.
When I last called upon M. Martinez he had been unwell for some weeks:
Mr. Cruikshank, who was consulted, did not think his case dangerous. He
died January 25th, 1864, when we were at the capital, and the death was
brought on by a fit of passion—not an uncommon occurrence in these hot-
tempered lands.[53] He had long been virtually king of Kutunun, a little
post inland of Jackin, on the Denham waters, and of late much coveted by
the new “Protectors” of Porto Novo. The latter managed their dollars so
well, that the King sent his cane to M. Martinez, and a polite message,
to say that his friend would presently be joined by a brother white man.
At first the recipient stared aghast; soon understanding the trick, he
was seized with a trembling of passion; he presently fainted, and he
died the same night, I presume of apoplexy.
M. Martinez was a caboceer of Dahome, entitled to the umbrella, the
chair, and the other insignia of his order. During his later years he
has often said—and many a man has had, and will have, to say the
same—that he had learned these people too late. The King claiming _droit
d’aubaine_ over the property of all his defunct subjects, the key of M.
Martinez’s house was at once, after his death, appropriated by the
Viceroy of Whydah. He has left a large family, all by native women. His
eldest son, Domingo Rafael Martinez, is a youth about twenty; he is not
uneducated, speaking English and French, although his father thought it
best to keep him in irons for some years, and thus unteach him the use
of the knife. It will be well for the heir if the deceased has left a
“bag” at Bahia.
M. Martinez is a sore loss to the slaving interest. A dozen years ago
there were at Whydah 200 Spaniards and Portuguese, including Brazilians
and half-castes. By glancing his eye below, the reader will see how much
the number of these “slave consumers” is reduced.[54] And the next
decade will find all the survivors engaged in cotton or in palm-oil—the
“doulometer of the slave-trade”—or in nothing.
M. Martinez had his good points: he was always courteous and hospitable,
even to his bitterest enemies, the English; moreover, to his praise be
it spoken, he invariably, like the first Chacha, de Souza,
discountenanced native cruelties and human sacrifice. He befriended the
Church Mission in 1846, when hopelessly stranded at Badagry, and, being
a slaver, he gained, as might be expected, little gratitude. Peace to
his manes, and may he escape the Dahoman Deadland, where I much doubt
that he would be warmly welcomed!
Passing along the main street we now enter the Zóbeme,[55] or Great
Market, one of the Whydah “lions.” It is, or rather was, a long
thoroughfare, covering at least an acre, with offsets, cross streets,
and here and there a cleared space. The booths are low, square, open
thatch-sheds, raised upon _chabutaras_ or benches of well-worked red
clay, about one foot above the passages. They are either joined or in
broken lines, and all are kept clean with _bois de vache_. A detached
hut proclaims the gin palace; the material,—bottles and decanters of
Brazilian rum and cheap French liqueurs, with glasses of all
sizes,—stands on white cloths, and business seems to be brisk. Nor are
the victualling arrangements less complete; half the shops contain
either raw or cooked provisions, and many a “working man” breakfasts and
dines in the alley. This rude bazar is fullest at 4 P.M., when swarms of
people, especially women, meet to buy and sell, “swap” and barter all
the requirements of semi-civilized life. For the articles most in vogue,
I may refer the reader to a previous publication,[56] and almost any
book of travels treating of the countries of the Upper Niger will show
him how far the system is capable of being carried out. At Whydah, as at
Bombay and Aden, the prices have increased, or rather have doubled,
during the last ten years; and despite the complaints of commercial
depression, the value of coin still diminishes. It is a curious
contrast, the placidity and impassiveness with which the seller, hardly
taking the trouble to remove her pipe, drawls out the price of her two-
cowrie lots, and the noisy excitement of the buyers, who know that they
must purchase and pay the demand. There is no lack of civility to us
amongst the people, and the children cheer and jeer White Face without
any awe. The two normal African complexions, red-yellow and brown-black,
are very distinct at Whydah, and here and there we meet features which
might belong to an ugly Sinaitic Badawi. There are also palpable traces
of Caucasian blood in what the Anglo-Indian lady called “European
infantry,” a parody upon the “European infamy” of the garrison chaplain.
The only picturesque part of the market-place is to the Eastward, where
there is a hutless space, lined with shady trees, especially the Hun-ti,
or Bombax, under which the vendors congregate in the glare of the day.
Conspicuous for its beauty is the Lisé tree, which the Fantis of the
Gold Coast call Akyen. The Portuguese have named it the “African
cashew.” Tall, thick, and with the darkest green foliage, it is set off
by studs of scarlet apples depending from long stalks. The fruit, which
is eaten at Agbome, is insipid, as are almost all wild growths, and not
a little like a raw turnip. The flower gives a delicious perfume, and
the wood supplies good potash for soap. The other trees are mostly
thick-leaved oranges and limes, whilst the hedges are of the malarious
croton (_Croton tiglium_), which here, as in Yoruba generally, attains
the rankest dimensions.
It is impossible at Whydah to mistake the religiousness of the Pagan,
though we vainly look for any trace of human relics. Even in the bazar,
many a hut will be girt round with the Zo Vodun,[57] a country rope with
dead leaves dangling to it at spaces of 20 feet. _After_ a conflagration
this Fetish fire prophylactic becomes almost universal. Opposite the
house-gates again we find the Vo-sisa defending the inmates from harm.
It is of many shapes, especially a stick or a pole, with an empty old
calabash for a head, and a body composed of grass thatch, palm leaves,
fowl’s feathers, and achatinæ shells. These people must deem lightly of
an evil influence that can mistake, even in the dark, such a scarecrow
for a human being. Near almost every door stands the Legba-’gban, or
Legba-pot, by Europeans called the “Devil’s Dish.[58]” It is a common
clay shard article, either whole or broken, and every morning and
evening it is filled, generally by women, with cooked maize and palm-
oil, for the benefit of the turkey-buzzard (_Percnopter niger_), like
the Pinda offered to Hindu crows. “Akrasu,[59]” the vulture, is next to
the snake, the happiest animal in Dahome. He has always an abundance of
food, like storks, robins, swallows, crows, adjutant cranes, and other
holy birds in different parts of the world. He may not be killed with
impunity, and he rarely loses his life except on the most solemn
occasions. The knowledge of his safety renders him so tame that he will
refresh himself among the poultry; and gorged with daily banquets, the
“beast of a bird” will hardly deign to take wing before being trodden
upon; I have seen him eating amongst the crowd before the King’s tent,
and half ready to show fight if interrupted. When hungry, he seems
always to consider you as if you were butcher’s meat.
Travellers abuse this “obscene fowl,” forgetting that without it the
towns of Yoruba would be uninhabitable. Moreover, except after a meal of
carrion, it has by no means the “foul aspect” which Commander Forbes
ascribes to it, nor is its “familiarity” at all “sickening.” The fact
is, that officer saw human sacrifice everywhere, although the rite never
takes place at Whydah, the condemned being sent up to the capital for
execution. The turkey-buzzard perched on the topmost stick of a blasted
calabash tree, is to unromantic material Africa what the pea-fowl,
weather-cocking the tall Mawri is to more engaging Asia. It always
struck me as the most appropriate emblem and heraldic bearing for
decayed Dahome.
The new comer must not confound the “Vulture’s dish” with another
display of earthenware. Places are consecrated by planting dwarf flags
round a forked stick, or round a tree cut down to a reversed tripod,
which supports a red clay pot or pot cover. Upon this the passers-by
deposit a little food or palm-oil, and sometimes cabalistic messes, to
bring luck or to ward off danger.
Legba himself is a horrid spectacle. A mass of red clay is roughly
moulded by the clumsy, barbarous artist into an imitation man, who is
evidently like Jupiter,
A devil of a god for following the girls.
The figure is at squat, crouched, as it were, before its own attributes,
with arms longer than a gorilla’s, huge feet, and no legs to speak of.
The head is of mud or wood, rising conically to an almost pointed poll;
a dab of clay represents the nose; the mouth is a gash from ear to ear,
and the eyes and teeth are of cowries, or painted ghastly white. This
deity almost fills a temple of dwarf thatch, open at the sides. In nine
cases out of ten he has returned, human-like, to an undistinguishable
heap of dust, but it would be sacrilege to remove the sacred rubbish.
Legba is of either sex, but rarely feminine. Of the latter I have seen a
few, which are even more horrid than the male; the breasts project like
the halves of a German sausage, and the rest is to match. In this point
Legba differs from the classical Pan and the Lampsacan god,[60] but the
idea involved is the same. The Dahoman, like almost all semi-barbarians,
considers a numerous family the highest blessing, and fatherlessness the
greatest curse in mundane life, and what men think in these lands must
be minded by women. The peculiar worship of Legba consists of
propitiating his or her characteristics by unctions of palm-oil. The
“Anatinkpo,” or knotted clubs planted around the figure with their knobs
in the air, are possibly derived from Oshé, the weapon of the Egba
“Shango.[61]”
Issuing from the bazar to westward, we pass on the right a large ruinous
tenement, built by a quadroon merchant, Mr. Hutton, of Cape Coast
Castle, whose “Gothic House” there has just been converted into
Government quarters. After he was drowned on the Dago bar (1857), this
place was sold to a Spaniard, known only as D. Juan, who presently
perished, of course by poison, at Badagry. As the last proprietor owed
200 dollars to the king, it then became royal demesne.
We are now at the English factory, which will require description; it
has played a conspicuous part in local politics, and it may perchance do
so again. Williams Fort, as it is called in old writings, was built for
the Royal African Company of England, by Captain Wiburne, brother to Sir
John Wiburne; its foundation is, therefore, nearly two centuries old. In
Barbot’s[62] day (1700) it was 100 yards square, with four large earthen
flankers, mounting twenty-one good guns; the trench, crossed by a
drawbridge of boards spread on beams, was 20 ft. deep by 18 ft. wide,
and its establishment consisted of twenty whites and one hundred
gromettos, or slaves, attached to English Town, under the orders of a
governor. The old traveller places it three miles from the water-side,
between the Danish fort (now quite forgotten) on the west, and within
half-a-mile of the French and Dutch Forts. In its day it has sheltered,
under Governor Tinker, the King of Whydah, when Savi, his capital, was
taken by Dahome; Governor Wilson gave protection to Ossue, the leader of
the Whydahs and Popos; rash Governor Testesole was, by orders of the
Great King, murdered, and some say eaten; Governor Gregory defended it
against Tanga, the rebel; brave Governor Goodson, by the fire of his
fort won back Whydah for Dahome; Governor Abson here lived thirty-seven
years, and left behind him Sally, of tragical end; stout Mr. Hamilton
procured the release of Dr. M‘Leod, and Governor James, the younger of
that name, who succeeded the two former, is still known as the King’s
friend.
The shape of the enceinte is a square or parallelogram, enclosing
several acres, surrounded by a well-grown moat, and formerly defended at
the angles by once round bastions, with their rusty guns, a total of
twenty-four carronades still lying there and about the court. Even in
1803, we are told that only three or four of the cannon were sound
enough to be used in saluting, the others being so honeycombed and
corroded that those firing them would have been in more danger than
those fired at. The compound is divided into unequal parts by a wall
running from east to west; to the north where a garden should be, there
is a foul Fetish figure throned amidst a mass of filth,—yet the people
wonder that they suffer from smallpox and measles! The main building,
fronting south, to catch the sea-breeze, is a huge half-whitewashed
barn, red and crumbling below, with a ragged, tattered pent-roof thatch
above; the walls pierced with irregular shuttered holes, are 4 ft.
thick, and the “great hall[63]” and five dwarf rooms inside suggest
comparison with the _ab externo_ size of the edifice. The interior is as
shabby as the exterior, the floors yawn wide, and the ceiling threatens
to fall. As usual in these buildings, there is but one entrance, a
gloomy and cavernous gateway, like the Arab’s “barzah,” under the main
building. The barton between the house and Fetish-ground contains out-
houses and offices for servants and followers; a well, which at times
fails; instead of “steeple house” a shingled chapel, which is also
school-room; a “cook-house” (not a kitchen); a bathing-place, bachelor’s
quarters, four rows of umbrella trees, under whose shade is the usual
trellised arbour, and the old “Hog-yard,” which name, however, is now
forgotten.
The Hog-yard is a square detached house in the centre of the enceinte,
near the old circular powder-magazine; it derives its peculiar
appellation from the fact that white men were buried here. The founder
of the fort, Captain Wiburne, was the first tenant, and it has been
since used as a family vault for the servants of the “Company.” Captain
Thomas Phillips tells us a characteristic tale of this institution. A
Mr. Smith, the chief factor, being sick, one of the kings of Whydah
insisted upon sending a Fetish priest to his relief. The reverend man,
carrying brandy, rum, rice, oil, and other creature comforts, entered
the Hog-yard, and thus addressed the deaf and dumb inmates:
“O ye dead whites that live here! you have a mind to have with you this
factor that is sick, but he is a friend to the King, who loves him, and
who will not part with him as yet!”
Then, repairing to Captain Wiburne’s grave, he cried out:
“O thou captain of all the dead whites that lie here! this is thy doing:
thou wouldst have this man from us to bear thee company, because he is a
good man, but our King will not part with him, and thou shalt not have
him yet!”
Thus saying, the holy man made a hole over the grave, and poured in the
various articles which he had brought with him, telling the ghostly
tenant that if he wanted those things, they were all there for him, but
the factor he must not expect and should not have.
The historian goes on to say that the Englishmen present, disgusted by
this mummery, kicked the Fetisheer out of the fort, and that Mr. Smith
incontinently died,—a proof stronger than any Holy Writ to the negro
mind that black man’s “medicine he be good.”
In the Hog-yard also reposes Mr. James, called by the natives “Huze-
huze.” In December and January, when the Whydah Fetish fêtes take place,
the native priests flock with drums to perform idolatrous rites at his
grave.
I summoned the Caboceers, and protested against these proceedings in the
capital of English Town.[64] They of course promised to report my
objections to the King, and certainly thought no more about the matter.
The English Fort at Whydah is a scandal, morally and physically.
Compared with the French Mission, it gives exactly the measure of
difference between the white man and the mulatto,—even in these lands,
where climate is so much against the former. The Wesleyan Mission should
be ashamed of it. A few hundred pounds would make the place respectable,
by the expulsion of the Fetish, and by the restoration of a building
which has now passed out of government’s hands. The sound of psalmody is
certainly not wanting, indeed, the “holloaing of anthems,” as Falstaff
calls it, is _satis superque_; and besides the school-children, there
are nearly a score of he-fellows—schoolmaster, cook, barber, tailor,
interpreter, and others—loafing and lounging about the court and arbour.
They should be made at least to work their cost in salt. I only hope
that an English Company will, at some not distant day, take the
restoration in hand.
In 1842-43, the Wesleyan Mission was nominally established at Whydah by
Mr. T. B. Freeman, the “Bishop of the Gold Coast,” and Mr. Dawson, the
companion of his travels. Eleven years afterwards they were followed by
the Reverend Mr. Bernasko, the present principal and the sole occupant
of the English Fort, accompanied by a Mr. Laing, now doing duty at
Annamaboe. They began by a _mélange_ of commerce and conversion, which
was far from being favourably received by King Gezo. Perhaps for that
reason they have been taken _en amitié_ by his royal son. Gelele has
given over to them six youths, sons of the old fort slaves of the
English Town; he will not, however, allow the number to be increased.
The total of the congregation is a dozen men, mostly Fantis, and all
coloured. The school-muster greatly varies: for when I was last there,
it numbered forty-six pupils, of whom twenty-three were boarders,
including the human presents given according to custom by the King to
his various visitors at Agbome. Amongst others under the charge of Mrs.
Bernasko, is “Jane,” popularly called the Commodore’s Wife, a huge
porpoise, a female Daniel Lambert, and a fair match for three men. There
also are the two girls, “one about twelve, the other sixteen, very
pretty and intelligent,[65]” dashed at Agbome to Captain Wilmot for
education in England. Tastes in the matter of beauty differ. I found
“Amelia,” the younger, aged at least sixteen, and an uncommonly plain
and dingy specimen; whilst “Emma,” the elder, had passed eighteen, and
wore an expression of intense stupidity, combined with the external
development of a female “Legba.” They are thus too old to learn, and in
these days it is not so easy as it was to become African “princesses.”
Finally, neither of them can be termed Dahoman,—the former is an
Ishaggan, and the latter is a Makhi captive.
For the English name in these parts, I am sorry to see Mr. Bernasko so
situated. He has small pay, a large family, and many calls upon his
purse. But it draws down contempt upon a faith when its teachers are
compelled to trade for their livelihood, and to keep within a few yards
of their chapel a shop in which cloth and pottery, rum and ammunition,
are sold.
Passing out of the English Fort, we see in front and on the off side of
“Main Street,” two brick pillars inclined like the leaning towers of
Bologna, and showing where once was the factory garden. Here grew the
orange-grove alluded to by Dr. M‘Leod, and the thin tamarind under which
Governor Abson was buried. It has long been abandoned to the weeds, and
a dozen sheep and goats now pick a scanty meal. On the right hand and to
the south-west of William’s Fort, is a large ruined establishment that
belonged to Ignacio de Souza, a son of the original Chacha. He fell into
disgrace four to five years ago, under the suspicion of having reported
to a British cruiser the intended departure of a slaver, and he
mysteriously disappeared. His property was “broken” by the “Don-pwe
people[66]” here, a sign of complete and irretrievable ruin. It is a
custom borrowed from the old kings of Whydah. The house has lately been
granted by the King to a Mr. Craft, a mulatto, not a negro, as his semi-
scientific auditors at Newcastle firmly believe him to be. The repairs
will cost about £600, but this agent to the new “Company of African
Merchants” says that he will easily make it pay. _Però veremos!_
Bending towards the north of the English Fort, we pass through a large
empty space now being cleared of grass for the Christmas “play.” It
shows a big tree-grown hole whose earth has been excavated for building,
and a central shed erected by the present King for his “Blue” guards to
marshal, dance, drink, and settle the palavers peculiar to their corps.
The “Blues” outside the palace, also called “English Company,”
correspond with the “Fanti company” of women inside: they are held to be
body-guards, but they are not regulars. For this reason it is called,
after one of the royal houses at the capital, Jegbe.
Beyond this square is a dark circular clump of giant trees,—splendid
figs, calabashes, and bombaxes rising from a dense bush which doubtless
has witnessed many a deed of darkness. One would suppose that they were
fetished to preserve them; but the Tree and the Ocean, as well as the
Snake, formed of old the peculiar cultus of Whydah. At its eastern end
is the second lion of the town, and a very minute one, the Danhhwe,[67]
or Boa Temple. It is nothing but a small cylindrical mud hut—some Fetish
houses are square—with thick clay walls supporting a flying thatch roof
in extinguisher shape. Two low narrow doorless entrances front each
other, leading to a raised floor of tamped earth, upon which there is
nothing but a broom and a basket. It is roughly whitewashed inside and
out, and when I saw it last a very lubberly fresco of a ship under full
sail sprawled on the left of the doorway. A little distance from the
entrance were three small pennons, red, white, and blue cottons tied to
the top of tall poles.
The Danhgbwe is here worshipped, like the monkey near Accra and Wuru,
the leopard of Agbome, the iguana of Bonny, and the crocodile at Savi,
Porto Seguro, and Badagry. The reptile is a brown yellow-and-white-
streaked python of moderate dimensions; and none appears to exceed five
feet. The narrow neck and head tapering like the slow-worm’s, show it to
be harmless; the negro indeed says that its bite is good as a defence
against the venomous species, and it is tame with constant handling. M.
Wallon saw 100 in the temple, some 10 feet long, and he tells his
readers that they are never known to bite, whereas they use their sharp
teeth like rats. Of these “nice gods” I counted seven, including one
which was casting its slough; all were reposing upon the thickness of
the clay wall where it met the inner thatch. They often wander at night,
and whilst I was sketching the place a negro brought an estray in his
arms: before raising it, he rubbed his right hand on the ground and duly
dusted his forehead, as if grovelling before the king. The ugly brute
coiled harmlessly round his neck, like a “doctored” cobra in India or
Algeria. Other snakes may be killed and carried dead through the town,
but strangers who meddle with the Danhgbwe must look out for “palavers,”
which, however, will probably now resolve themselves into a fine. In
olden times death has been the consequence of killing one of these
reptiles, and if the snake be abused, “serious people” still stop their
ears and run away.
When under former reigns a native killed a Danhgbwe even accidentally,
he was put to death; now, the murderer is placed somewhat like the
Salamanders of old Vauxhall, in a hole under a hut of dry faggots
thatched with grass which has been well greased with palm-oil. This is
fired, and he must rush to the nearest running water, mercilessly
belaboured with sticks and pelted with clods the whole way by the
Danhgbwe-no,[68] or fetish-priests. Many of course die under the
gauntlet. Thus there is a _baptême de feu_ as well as a _baptême d’eau_;
fire and water, to say nothing of the gauntlet, must combine to efface
the god-killing crime.[69] The elder de Souza saved many a victim by
stationing a number of his slaves round the deicide, with orders to
hustle and beat him in semblance not in reality. This was truly the act
of a “Good Samaritan.”
Ophiolatry in our part of Africa is mostly confined to the coast
regions; the Popos and Windward races worship a black snake of larger
size; and in the Bight of Biafra the Nimbi or Brass River people[70] are
as bigoted in boa-religion as are the Whydahs. The system is of old
date: Bosman, at the beginning of the last century, described it almost
as it is at present. It well suits the gross materialism of these races,
and yet here men ought to be tired of it. As will afterwards appear, the
snakes lost their kingdom; yet we are told that when the Dahomans
permitted serpent-worship to continue, the Whydahs, abundantly thankful,
became almost reconciled to the new stern rule.
Snake worship is both old and widely spread[71]; we recognise it among
the Psylli of the ancients, and in the Roman Ophiolatreia of which Livy
wrote _anguem in quo ipsum numen fuisse constabat_. In the Christian
Church the animal was adored by the Ophites, perhaps on the same
principle that the Sheytan Parast propitiates H.S.M., or that certain
ignorant Roman Catholics have burned the candle at both ends in honour
of the Powers of Light and Darkness. The Ophites were thus opposed to
the orthodox, who held the unfortunate animal to be the “fatal destroyer
of the human race,” the “type of the devil and deluder of mankind.”
Barbot quotes upon this subject the Golden Serpent of the first
Israelites, the Brazen Snake of Moses, the Dragon of Babylon, and the
Thermutis or Asp of Egypt, where it was accounted one of the most
valuable symbols of religion. Erasmus Stella informs us, in his
Antiquities of Borussia, that people began worship by ophiolatry.
Sigismund, baron of Huberstein, in his account of Moscovy, says, “that
snakes were adored in Samogitia and Lithuania.” The Naga of India was
the Couch of Vishnu and the type of eternity; it is still revered by the
snake-charmer.[72] Herodotus (ii. 74) mentions the sacred serpent at
Thebes. The Romans during a plague brought Æsculapius, son of Apollo,
from Epidaurus, in the form of a huge serpent, and with great sacrifices
and ceremonies lodged him in an island of the Tiber. Finally, I may
observe that from the Slave-Coast “Vodun” or Fetish we may derive the
“Vaudoux” or small green snake of the Haytian negroes, so well-known by
the abominable orgies enacted before the “Vaudoux King and Queen,[73]”
and the “King Snake” is still revered at S’a Leone.
On the other side of the road the devotees of the snake are generally
lolling upon the tree roots in pretended apathy, but carefully watching
over their gods. Here too are the Fetish schools, where any child
touched by the holy reptile must be taken for a year from its
parents—who “pay the piper”—and must be taught the various arts of
singing and dancing necessary to the worship. This part of the system
has, however, lost much of the excesses that prevailed in the last
century, when, at the pleasure of the strong-backed Fetish men, even the
King’s daughters were not excused from incarceration and from its
presumable object. The temple is still annually visited by the Viceroy,
during the interval after the Customs and before the campaigning season.
He takes one bullock, with goats, fowls, cloth, rum, meal, and water to
the priest, who, holding a bit of kola nut, prays aloud for the King,
the country, and the crops.
Close to the Boa Temple is the palace of the Yevogan,[74] or Viceroy of
Whydah. This is an important post, and the holder is the third dignitary
of the kingdom. He is proposed by the Meu, or second minister, his after
patron, and he is installed by the King, under whose indirect protection
he is. The Viceroy is surrounded by the cleverest spies and councillors;
on his own ground he is strong, but once in the capital he falls into
the hands of his protector. He is ever liable to be summoned to Agbome,
and etiquette compels him to ride a wretched garron, upon which he is
supported by his slaves. His soldiers may amount, not to 2000, as some
say, but to 200. He is at once council, jury, and judge; he cannot,
however, put a Dahoman to death even for crime without sending him for
examination to the King. He has unlimited powers of imprisonment and
bastinado; indeed, the local system seems to be that which kept the old
British man-of-war in such grand discipline; all are in ranks, and the
superior “sticks” every one below him. He is great at embezzlement, and
woe betide the litigious wight whose cause falls into his hands. Both he
and his lieutenant must be propitiated before he will forward a
visitor’s message to the King; and both, though they can do little to
assist, are powerful in impeding progress.[75] However, a piece of silk,
and a few bottles of French “’tafia,” suffice for each, and both
vouchsafed a return in provisions. I reserve a personal description of
the Yevo-gan till we meet him at Kana.
The Yevo-gan’s palace is a large enceinte to the north of the town, with
four principal entrances. That on the north-east is the “Bwendemen.[76]”
It opens upon a square or space full of Fetish huts, one of which covers
the skull of the African wild buffalo, now extinct in these parts, and
under the straggling trees deputations are received. To the north is
“Ganhori”; the western entrance is known as “Ohongaji”; and the
southern, leading to the Snake House, is “Agoli.” The interior is the
normal labyrinth of courts and tents, each with two doorways; you reach
the audience chamber after some twenty turnings, though perhaps it was a
few yards from the entrance passage, and it is concealed, like the
owner’s “wifery,” by mud walls. The great man, after the usual formality
of canes and compliments, causes visitors, if they allow it, to _fare
anticamera_, till his toilet is satisfactory, in a palm-nut paved
outhouse near his pony’s stable. Dignity makes this demand; the negro
grandee must not appear curious or anxious to see his visitor, who will
ensure a better reception next time by making the loudest demonstrations
of indignation. The dignitary receives in a small clean verandah, where,
as chairs may not be used by the lieges of Dahome, he is found reclining
upon the uncarpeted floor. He escorts the visitor beyond his walls, and
he never fails to beg that a decent horse may be sent out to him from
Europe, Asia, or the other quarters of the “inhabited quarter.”
Crossing Main Street from north to south, we proceed to the south-west
of the town, where stands the Brazilian Fort, the residence of the de
Souza family. The huge mud pile occupies the base of a rude triangle,
called a square, under whose shady trees, in the mornings and evenings,
black cattle muster strong. Smaller tenements, in the south of Europe
style, have been added to both sides. The old man, however, would not
inhabit the house on the proper right of the fort, from a superstitious
fancy that it would be fatal to him. The western turret or gable of the
huge central building, which faces southwards, may be seen from the sea,
affording an excellent mark to the aspiring gunner. The peculiar feature
of the Uhon-nukon,[77] or Praça, is a circular wattling, six feet in
diameter, planted round with the tall thunder-fetish shrub.[78] No one
sees the interior, and even after fires that have calcined the live
hedge, it is carefully covered with leaves. It is said to contain a
round shot fired from the roads, probably out of an old long carronade
(32-pounder, 9 ft. 6 in. in length, and 56 cwt.), by Commander Hill,
R.N., who, in 1844, succeeded Mr. Maclean as Governor of the Gold Coast.
The missile fell opposite the house of M. Martinez, and was removed to
this place, where it has ever since been held fetish.
The founder of the family, M. Francisco Fellis de Sousa or Souza, left
Rio Janeiro in 1810, not, as Commander Forbes[79] says, a fugitive for
political crime, nor as Captain Canot[80] asserts, “a deserter from the
arms of his imperial master,” but simply as a peasant who wished to see
the world. He first settled at a place which he called Ajudo,[81] near
Little Popo, and presently he became Governor of the Portuguese Fort
here. About 1843 he was raised to the Chachaship, the principal agency
in commercial matters between the King and all strangers; he thus became
captain of the merchants, and the second dignitary at Whydah. As he
could command refusal of all articles offered for sale, and as he had
the regulation of the “De”—alcavála, octroi, or excise—he became very
wealthy. He was ever hospitable and generous to Mr. Duncan[82] and to
other Englishmen, although he owed to us the loss of a score of ships.
He won the esteem of honest men, despite his slave-trading propensities,
by discouraging torture and death; whilst, unlike too many other whites,
he systematically refused to be present at human sacrifice. When far
advanced in life, he had the honour to entertain the Prince de
Joinville, and he died in May, 1849.
On the elder De Souza’s demise, the Chachaship was contested by three of
his one hundred children. Isidore, the King’s favourite, succeeded; but,
like all the juniors and African born of the family, he departed life
young. Followed Antonio, commonly called Kwaku, or Wednesday,[83] a
debauched man, rich, prodigal, and bigoted; he had thousands of armed
and trained slaves; he built a swish-house with rum instead of water,
wishing to imitate the King, who for such purpose uses blood; and he
threatened to compel Gezo perforce to become a Christian. His career was
short, and he was succeeded by his uterine brother,[84] Ignacio, whose
mysterious fate has been mentioned. The present Chacha, popularly called
S’or Chico, is “Francisco,” also a son of the old De Souza, aged about
forty, tinted between a mulatto and a quadroon, with features European
in the upper half, and African below, a scant beard, and a not
unpleasant expression of countenance. He has little power, and thus the
whole authority of the place has been centered, much to the detriment of
commerce, in the hands of the wicked old Yevo-gan.
The family is charged with exercising a pernicious influence over the
minds of the King and of the people of Dahome. It is still numerous.[85]
The daughters of the house being too high to marry, temporarily honour
the man who has the fortune to please them, and are said to reproduce in
the Brazilian factory the state of morals that prevailed in the palaces
of the old Persian kings and the Incas of Peru.
Passing up the Ajudo Akhi ’men, or Adjudo Market, by which we entered
the town, we turn to the north-west, and once more pass into Main
Street. Here we find the third bazar, Zo mai ’khi men, “Curfew
Market.[86]” It was so called by the old Chacha, who would not allow the
grass to be burned hereabouts, having a large store of gunpowder in
Zomai House, a big swish building, now in ruins. There is nothing
remarkable in this market.
Bending northwards, we find the French Fort, as usual—in these days, at
least—the finest building in the place, with all the military air proper
to the Grande Nation: it is, indeed, the only tenement that does not cry
for repair. Still, it is a peaceful establishment, belonging to M. Régis
(Ainé), of Marseille, the well-known emigrationist now reduced to palm-
oil. It occupies the site of the old French Fort, whose governor, in the
days of Louis XVI., had such influence over the country, and which in
its career was twice destroyed by the Dahomans, whilst several governors
lost their lives. Barbot[87] gives a detailed history of its original
foundation in 1669-1671, by MM. Du Bourg and Caralof, with the consent
of the King of Whydah, for the French West Indian Company. The old
traveller places the factory at “Pilleau or Pelleau”—names now
unknown—“a little beyond the swamp, and two miles from the sea.” It is
badly situated; the air hereabouts is malarious, and hotter than at the
other three forts. Behind, or northwards, is Salam Français, or French
Town, peopled, like the rest, by the descendants of the Fort grumettos.
They are now reduced from 1500 to a very small number, and they are
considered a treacherous runaway race, the worst hammock-bearers at
Whydah.[88]
A marble tablet over the drawbridged gateway of the French Fort informs
us that it was restored by M. Régis, in 1842, and it is said that the
repairs cost as much as though it had been re-made with stone. The main
building fronting the sea southwards is tiled, not thatched, a necessary
precaution, as will be seen, against the fires here frequent, and it has
a tall central belvedere. The two bastions to the north-east and south-
west have been whitewashed and repaired; the former, being nearer the
town, mounts six guns, not including four fixed in the swish; and the
latter had a telegraph for signalling to the ships in the roads. Besides
which, a battery without _affûts_ lies on the ground opposite the
entrance. The ditch is uncleaned and efficient, whilst the three
remaining walls of the enceinte are of coarse red clay, and by no means
in good order, suggesting the idea of a “dicky,” which is also
characteristic. The immense compound contains a well, a cooperage, a
smithy, a trellised arbour, and other necessaries. Outside the gateway
it was proposed to found an establishment for the French missioners, who
sensibly went eastwards, and found a site one to three degrees (F.)
cooler. Here one of the agents attempted to plant cotton, and
necessarily failed for want of regular labour.
It is not unamusing to compare with fact M. Wallon’s account of this
factory. Its disinterestedness in supplying rival _barraconniers_ with
Zanzibar cowries, its high sense of honour, provoking the hostility of
the Yevo-gan, and its grand prospects as a civilizing and Christianizing
agent, are dreams—not of the wise. The connection of France with Whydah
has not been, and is not, a credit to our rivals; nor is he their friend
who tells them the contrary. The Maison Régis is a barracoon, a slave-
yard, where, with detestable hypocrisy, “emigrants[89]” and “free
labourers” were lodged in jail till they could be transported _à
loisir_. Such is the establishment which a French naval officer pretends
to praise. But M. Wallon himself, when in the “Dialmat,” had proceeded
to the capital in order to procure 40,000 hands. If the house has become
a centre of licit commerce, it has not to thank its proprietor, his
agents, or the officers that aided and abetted him. Finally, after the
death of King Gezo, who mightily affected Frenchmen, it has fallen into
utter contempt; the present ruler treats its _gérant en chef_ as a
servant. M. Daumas, although calling himself French consul, was, after
his last visit to Kana, in 1863, ordered not to quit Whydah, and he was
compelled to fly on board a French man-of-war.
We now resume our route westwards, passing sundry fine houses,
especially those of M. Nobre, a friend of Gezo, who during the same year
followed his royal patron to the dark world, and of M. J. C. Muniz,
whose African son has just come into possession of his property. Issuing
from the habitations, we visit the westernmost point of Whydah Town, the
Zo Mai ’Khimen Kpota, or “Fire Come not in Market Hillock.[90]” It is a
swell in the open ground, which commands a full view of the shipping.
Here we may see the coffee-like shrub which produces the fruit known on
the Gold Coast as the “miraculous berry.[91]” A little to the N.W. are
two huge cotton trees; that nearer the town is called Foli Hun, or
Foli’s Bombax, with the following legend attached to it.
The Whydahs, assisted by the Popos, had made many a stout-hearted but
vain attempt to recover their city, especially under their brave leader
Shampo, a refugee Dahoman. This general, growing old, was succeeded in
the command by his son Foli or Fori (the “Affurey” of the History), and,
in 1763, when Tegbwesun (Bossa Ahadi) was on the throne, the fugitives
once more attacked his garrison.
At first the Whydahs were successful; they marched in without
opposition: and when old “Honnou,[92]” the viceroy, attempted to defend
his town, they wounded him and repulsed his troops. “Baddely,” the
second in command, fought bravely, till, pressed by a superior force, he
was compelled to shelter himself under the guns of the French Fort, and
the latter, although the enemy had begun to burn down the suburbs,
ungratefully politic, fired nothing but blank cartridge to defend their
friends.
The Whydahs and Popos, inspirited by this treacherous proceeding,
advanced through the town; after another action to the S.E. of, and just
outside, the suburbs, where the Godome entrance now is, they drove the
enemy into the bush. When passing the English factory, one of the savage
soldiery espied a white woman, Governor Goodson’s “wife,” combing her
long hair, and protruding her head from the window, to see, I suppose,
the “fun.” Exclaiming, “What animal can that be?” the man pierced her
throat with a musket-ball; upon which the Englishman let fly a storm of
grape-shot and musket-bullets, which made a prodigious havoc amongst the
friendly Whydahs. The Portuguese Fort, suspecting some treachery, took
up the fire, and all the others followed suit, thus completing the
discomfiture of the townspeople. The Dahomans, who, under “Baddely,”
were lurking near, and collecting their men from the plantations,
resumed the offensive with such fury, that they killed thirty out of
thirty-two hostile umbrellas, or general officers. Foli, overwhelmed
with grief and shame, sat down under that Bombax and shot himself. In
memory of his deeds, the fourth market-day at Whydah is called
Foli-’hun-glo.[93]
This was the second occasion upon which the English gave Whydah to the
Dahomans. Tegbwesun acknowleged that his good son had the sole merit of
the victory, and the memory of “Ajangan” is still green in the land. To
the present day the King always remarks officially to Englishmen who do
not understand him, that from the first the British were the greatest
friends of his family.[94]
There is now no society in Whydah[95]; the quondam millionaires retain
their hospitality, but not the means of gratifying it. The old days of
sporting, picnics, and processions, of dancing, loving, drinking, and
playing, are gone, probably never to return. The place is temporarily
ruined, and dull as dull can be, except when the occasional breaking of
the blockade gives it a kind of galvanic life. Such was the case in
October, 1863; the roads were stopped on the 7th, and three days
afterwards a fine steamer, carrying 900 souls, got off between Godome
and Jackin.[96] All the principal venturers gave a banquet, ending in a
_tripotage_, which began at 4 P.M., and ended ten hours afterwards; none
but the members of the Lyons Mission were exempted from attendance; even
the non-slaving traders and others were there drinking pro-slavery
toasts which would have given a philanthropist “fits.”
All here is now in transition state. Slave exporting is like gambling, a
form of intense excitement which becomes a passion; it is said that
after once shipping a man, one must try to ship another. And the natives
of Whydah give the licit dealer scanty encouragement. Having lived so
long without severer toil than kidnapping, they are too old to learn
labour, they allow their houses to fall, their plantations to re-become
bush, their streets to be half-grown with rank grass, and their swamps
to reek undrained.
Let us hope that a step in advance is now being taken. Much might be
expected from the soldier-like discipline of Dahoman despotism, if
compulsorily applied to honest labour.
[Footnote 44: Travels in Western Africa in 1845-1846. By John Duncan,
late of First Life Guards.—Vol. i. p. 185.]
[Footnote 45: Hwe, in the Ffon dialect, means a house and grounds, as in
Grehwe, for which see the next note. No one, however, could explain to
me the etymological meaning of Hwe-dah.]
[Footnote 46: Gre, or Gle—it is hard to know which to write—is a
“plantation,” not a “garden,” as it is often translated; Gre-ta, or Gle-
ta, is a bush or uncleared ground; and Gre-ta-nun, or Gle-ta-nun, is a
bush man. Mr. Duncan (vol. i. p. 141) says, “The former name of Whydah
was Grihwee, or Grighwee, but since its subjection to Dahomy it has
become part of that territory, and received its present name”— the
reverse being the case.]
[Footnote 47: The Viceroy never goes to war; he is supposed to look
after Whydah. His deputy, the Sub-Viceroy, is expected to be present at
all campaigns.]
[Footnote 48: The History of Dahome mentions a third, now ignored,
“Nabbakou,” the “titular god of the English Castle in Whydah.” See chap.
xvii. of this book.]
[Footnote 49: In the Dahoman tongue, “Zojage” is a Frenchman,
“Agudayevo” a Portuguese or Brazilian, “Kan-kan-yevo” a Dutchman,
“Payonunyevo” a Spaniard, and “Glensi” an Englishman. The “English
mother,” an officeress at Court, is called “Glensi-no.” In Mr. Duncan’s
time the Portuguese quarter was far superior to all the others; it is
not so now.]
[Footnote 50: Namely, five priests, MM. Borghero, Emile Cordioux,
Verdelot, Nodiet, and Vermorel, all French except the first, and one
minor, François Cloud, who is about to proceed for ordination to
France.]
[Footnote 51: See Annales de la Propagation de la Foi (No. 206, January,
1863). Paris: 34, Rue Cassette.]
[Footnote 52: These articles are one of the curses of the West African
coast. Your white friend can pay you no higher compliment than to wind
up the abominations, and your black friend will start, if he has them,
half-a-dozen at the same time.]
[Footnote 53: So during the late fire at Whydah, the Chacha, M. Fr. de
Souza, when he saw his house destroyed, very nearly died of passion. The
same uncontrollable fits of rage have been observed amongst the
Hottentots and the South African bushmen.]
[Footnote 54: The following is a list of the Portuguese, Brazilians,
mulattos, and civilized Africans now remaining at the great mart. Five
Portuguese, viz.:—
1. Antonio Viera da Silva, established at Whydah, Grand-Popo, and Agwe.
2. Francisco de Souza Maciel.
3. Ignacio de Souza Magallaes: Whydah, Porto Novo, and Badagry.
4. Jacinto Joaquim Rodriguez: Whydah and Porto Novo.
5. J. Suares Pereira: Whydah and Agwe.
Fourteen Brazilians:—
1. Francisco Antonio Monteiro.
2. F. J. Medeiros, now at Agwe (some say he is a Portuguese, born in
the United States).
3. Francisco Olimpio Silva, at Porto Seguro.
4. Marco Borges Ferras.
5. João Pinheiro de Souza, commonly called Taparica.
6. Gulielme Martins do Nascimento.
7. Marcelino dos Martins Silva.
8. Ricardo Augusto Amadie: he speaks French and English.
9. João Victor Angelo.
10. Josè Francisco dos Santo, commonly called Alfaiate, _i.e._, the
Tailor.
11. Angelo Custodio das Chagas.
12. João Antonio Dias.
13. Francisco Giorge.
14. Domingo Rafael Martinez, son of J. Domingo Martinez.
And four Brazilian women, viz.:—
1. Maria Elena do Carmo.
2. Benevinde Teresa de Jesus.
3. Leopoldina Teresa de Jesus.
4. Maria da Piedade do Nascimento.
N.B.—There are a few Brazilians of minor importance attached to the
above houses.
The ten following are Africans or Brazil liberateds, who are mostly
Nagos (Egbas) or Whydah men. None of them is at all important, and there
are a few others whose names do not deserve mention.
1. João Antonio de Rego.
2. Elisbaõ Lino.
3. Thobias Barreto Brandao.
4. Joaquim das Neves.
5. Damião de Oliviera, who is considered the best mason at Whydah.
6. Antonio d’Almeida.
7. Josè de Fonçeca Muniz, the son of the late J. C. Muniz.
8. Pedro Pinto da Silveira. This is the well-known slaver, Pedro Cogio,
of Little Popo. He has a son residing at Whydah, and managing the
affairs of Josè Alfaiate. His name is,
9. Domingo Francisco da Silveira.
10. Pedro Fellis d’Almeida.
All these are “God-men,” which, in Anglo-African, is opposed to “devil-
men,” or heathenry.]
[Footnote 55: No one could explain the meaning of this word. Zó means
the later rains, and must not be confounded with Zò, fire, which is
pronounced with a depression of the voice. The Yoruban languages, like
the Chinese, depend upon accents and intonations which are not ours. For
instance, So and Soh, slightly aspirated, is a stick. Sò, with a falling
of the voice, has the same signification as Khevio-sò, thunder. Só, with
a rising of the voice, means a horse; and with an almost imperceptible
variation of voice, means bring; _e.g._, Só, zò, wá, bring hither fire!
Sô (pronounced Saw), means yesterday or to-morrow, a fair specimen of
linguistic poverty, and leading to numerous mistakes. But these
delicacies of intonation are inherent in monosyllabic tongues. That
childish form of human language also delights in imitative words, as
Koklo, a “cackler” or fowl (in Prakrit Kukkur), Kra-kra, a watchman’s
rattle, and so on.]
[Footnote 56: Wanderings in West Africa. Abeokuta, chap. iii. See also
Mr. Duncan, vol. i. p. 121.]
[Footnote 57: Vodun is Fetish in general. I hardly know whether to write
it Vodun or Fodun, the sound of the two labials is so similar. New
comers are apt to confound this Fetish with the Azan or fringe of dried
palm-leaf, which, fastened about a tree, places it under the protection
of the Bo-Fetish. When a man wears the latter round his throat,
witchcraft can do him no harm; and, if a war captive, he may not be
killed.]
[Footnote 58: The food which it contains is called Legba-nun-dudu, or
“eating for Legba.”]
[Footnote 59: There are two kinds, Akrasu, the common _Percnopter
niger_, and a larger grey species, with a very hooked beak, called by
the people Akkun.]
[Footnote 60: How strong a superstition this worship is, may be gathered
from the annals of the monotheistic Jews, amongst whom Maacah, the
queen-mother of Asa, set up the “horror” in a grove.]
[Footnote 61: There is also a great demon in Egba land, who uses a
knobstick, called Oggo, and who therefore is known as Agongo-Oggo.]
[Footnote 62: A Description of the Coasts of North and South Guinea. By
John Barbot, Agent-General of the Royal African Company and Islands of
America, at Paris. This old book is a mine of information.]
[Footnote 63: It was the mess-room of the governor and his officers,
with whatever strangers might be staying in the place.]
[Footnote 64: English Town is one of the most populous parts of Whydah,
and lies behind its fort. Like the other quarters, it is chiefly
inhabited by the descendants of fort slaves, and they are bound to do
corvée for English visitors. They speak a little of our language, and
they muster perhaps 300 families.]
[Footnote 65: See Appendix iii., Despatches from Commodore Wilmot,
respecting his visit to the King of Dahomy, in December, 1862, and
January, 1863. Presented to the House of Commons by command of Her
Majesty, in pursuance of their address, June 16, 1863.]
[Footnote 66: Don (young), and pwe (small or young, as in Pwe-vi). These
are a troop of _petits jeunes hommes_, who must do something to
distinguish themselves, organized by the King for his especial service,
and to counteract the lazy and crafty veterans. These _moutards_ are
under a head-man, and each great Caboceer has at least one Don-pwe.]
[Footnote 67: Or Danhgbwe-hwe, or Vodun-hwe, _i.e._, Fetish House _par
excellence_. In all these words the _n_ is highly nasal. A common snake
is called Danh; the python, Danhgbwe, a purely Whydah word, which must
not be confounded with Dagbwe, “good.” Dr. M‘Leod corrupts the word to
Daboa. ’Gbwe means a bush, but according to my interpreters it is no
component part of Danhgbwe. Hwe signifies, I have said, a house and
grounds, in fact the whole establishment, as distinguished from Ho, a
room (as in Zá-ho, a ceiling’d or storeroom).]
[Footnote 68: No, at the end of a compound word, means primarily mother
(_e.g._, Danhgbwe-no, snake-mother): tropically, master of, or in the
Arabic sense, father of (_e.g._, Abu Hanash, father of snake). Its
general use shows the superior dignity of the lower sex in Dahome.]
[Footnote 69: Mr. Duncan witnessed this “absurd and savage custom,” and
detailed it in vol. i. p. 195.]
[Footnote 70: There the python has exceeded, I am told, nineteen feet in
length. Dr. M‘Leod says that in Dahome many have been found from thirty
to thirty-six feet long, and of proportional girth, but he does not say
that he saw them.]
[Footnote 71: Man’s natural sense of personal fear probably originated
the many fanciful ideas concerning the sævissima vipera:—it is truly
said, _Timor fecit deos_. The surpassing subtlety of the brute, the
female supposed to devour the male, and the young their parent, with the
monstrous imaginative offshoots—dragons, fiery snakes, the great sea-
serpent,—all such romantic zoology seems to have originated from one and
the same source.]
[Footnote 72: In bygone days at Baroda of Guzerat I studied snake-
charming under a native professor, when some of my brother-
officers—after filling the house with the hugest ranæ, to testify their
abhorrence of frog-eaters—killed in waggishness a fine cobra. The
terrified Hindu would never again “darken” those doors.]
[Footnote 73: The orgies are derived from the old Fetish practices,
which may be found in Bosman and Barbot.]
[Footnote 74: It is an old Whydah title dating before the conquest. In
the old days, the “Coke” was the head Caboceer in the absence of the
Yevogan (Dr. M‘Leod, p. 68). I cannot find the title now. The word is
spelt with a complexity of error. The History gives Yavoughah; Mr.
Duncan, Avogaw and Avoga; Captain Wilmot, Yavogah; and others Yavogar,
showing how easily the H, the R, and the highly nasal N, may be
confounded by unpractised ears. The French prefer Jevoghan. Commander
Forbes, who realized the fact that Ffon is a monosyllabic tongue, but
who did not take the trouble to ascertain the only important part of his
discovery, namely, what the syllables are, produced the curious
etymology Ee-a-boo-gan. The word is Yevo-gan, “White man’s
captain,”—Whydah being held to be a white man’s town. Yevo means a white
man, the oibo or oyibo of the Egbas. Ye is a shadow, and vo signifies
ripe or red. Gan has been explained as a captain or chief, and must not
be confounded with gàn, metal. Again, Commander Forbes and M. Wallon
tell us that the P. N. of the Yevogan is Dagbah, Dagbwa, and Dagba. The
phrase Da-gba implies “he holds a large gourd or calabash”—Whydah being,
as it were, the king’s cornucopia—it was a title which the present man
took for himself. Mr. Duncan (vol. i. p. 117) erroneously explains the
word to signify that the King would drink water with him—the strongest
mark of friendship.]
[Footnote 75: The present sub-viceroy, being a cousin and a particular
friend of the King, has unusual powers of persuasion; but such is by no
means always the case. The “Prince,” of whom more hereafter, is
considered a firm friend to the English nation.]
[Footnote 76: The first gate made when building the house is always so
named.]
[Footnote 77: Uhon (gate), and Nukon (before), _i.e._, the space before
the gate.]
[Footnote 78: By the natives it is called Ayyan or Soyyan; held in the
hand, a leaf prevents the gun from bursting, and the sticks are used in
thunder-worship, hence the name in the text. It is a tall shrub, with
broad ensiform leaves, like a Pandanus, but of a darker green, and it
grows all about the coast, extending as far as Agbome. Sometimes it is
pollarded, and in this state it is set round other sacred trees.]
[Footnote 79: Vol. i. p. 196. Commander Forbes was also misinformed when
he states, “When Da (de) Souza died, a boy and a girl were decapitated
and buried with him, besides three men who were sacrificed on the beach
at Whydah (vol. i. p. 33). All denominations at Whydah deny this; nor is
it probable after the deceased’s life-long opposition to this particular
enormity.]
[Footnote 80: Captain Canot; or, Twenty Years of an African Slaver.
Entertaining, but superficial; the author manifestly does not know that
“Chacha” is a title, not a name.]
[Footnote 81: There are some four “Ajudo” hereabouts, all so called by
the old De Souza, meaning “Deos me ajudò”—God helped me. Some wrongly
write Ajido. Others prefer Ajuda, help, aid; the full phrase being “Com
ajuda de Deos”; hence the Ajuda Palace, in Portugal. From directions of
letters, I believe Ajuda and Ayuda to be the popular Portuguese and
Brazilian names for Whydah.]
[Footnote 82: “A more generous or benevolent man perhaps never existed,”
says that traveller (vol. i. p. 194. See also vol. ii. p. 295).]
[Footnote 83: So called from the day of his birth, a Gold Coast custom.
The word is here corrupted to Cocò. Kwabna (Tuesday) and Wednesday are
“strong days” of birth; children that appear on Fridays, Saturdays, and
Mondays are “weak as water.” Mr. Duncan (vol. i. p. 193) remarks, “On no
account will a native sleep with his head towards the sea, nor enter a
new house to take possession as a dwelling on a Tuesday or Friday, both
those days being reckoned unlucky.”]
[Footnote 84: The mother was a large woman from Agwe, dashed to the old
Chacha. Her name was Akho-’si, _i.e._, King’s wife, but she had no
connection with royalty.]
[Footnote 85: The following is a list of the present heads of the De
Souza family, all being “Hijos de Whydah”:-
1. Francisco Fellis de Souza.
2. Manoel „ „
3. Antonio „ „
4. Juliaõ „ „
5. Januario „ „
6. Candido „ „
7. Antonio „ „ vulgarly called Pito.
8. Andrea „ „
9. Julio „ „
10. Lino „ „
11. Josè „ „
12. Pedro „ „
13. Ignacio „ „
The names of the sisters who are at all distinguished are:—
1. Maria Amalia Fellis de Souza.
2. Sabina „ „
3. Francisca „ „
4. Antonia „ „
There are many young children; about a hundred are known. The only
grandson of any importance is Antonio Francisco de Souza, son of
“Kwaku,” and aged about twenty-eight. The late Isidore left two boys,
Leandro Sancho and Sicinio Agripo, and two girls, Maria das Doses and
Joanna Isidora, who are looked upon as Africans.]
[Footnote 86: Zo (fire), Ma (not), I (come), ’Khi (from akhi, market),
Men (in).]
[Footnote 87: Book 4, chap. i. Where also may be found a long account of
the squabbles of the two founders, and of the disputes with their
seniors, the Dutch Company.]
[Footnote 88: The French factory is composed as follows:—
1. M. Marius Daumas, agent _en chef_ of the factories of M. Régis, since
1863 French Consul for Whydah and Porto Novo (where he mostly resides),
and chief of the Whydah factory.
2. M. Béraud.
3. M. Ardisson.
4. M. Pellegrin.]
[Footnote 89: Most people know that with the _profession_, “emigrant,”
like “captive,” means a purchased slave.]
[Footnote 90: Kpota means a gentle rise of ground, opposed to Sò, a
hill, and to Sò dáho (literally big hill), a mountain.]
[Footnote 91: The Fantis call it Sabla or Sambalá (which the Preface to
the History, p. viii., and Introduction, p. 5, turn into Assabah, and
opine to be an oxyglycus) and the Ffon terms it Sisnah. It is the
Ossessossa of the Bonny R., and grows everywhere on the Gold Coast and
in the Bights. The fruit is a brab-like berry, cherry-red and yellow,
with a thin white pulp and a large black stone. It is hardly capable of
making “a lime taste like a very ripe china orange, or vinegar like
sweet wine” (loc. cit.), but it sweetens water with a cloying taste, and
remains long upon the palate. Perhaps it might be useful in sugar-
making. Dr. M‘Leod exaggerates still further its peculiarities:—“Whoever
eats this berry in the morning, must be content, at least for that day,
to forego the natural flavour of every kind of food, whether animal or
vegetable” (pp. 21-22).]
[Footnote 92: These names are from the History, which ignores the
Governor’s “wife,” merely saying that Mr. Goodson had prepared to give
the rebels a very warm reception, and had fired into them accordingly.
On the other hand, King Gezo has often told the tradition as above
narrated. The “wife” might have been, and ten to one was, some fair
mulatress.]
[Footnote 93: Commander Forbes (vol. i. p. 114) says, “This was market-
day at the four-day market at Forree.” The _l_ in Foli is sounded
somewhat like the peculiar Sanskrit (ळ).]
[Footnote 94: See in Commodore Wilmot’s Despatch the usual garbled
account of this affair; such as it is, however, people believed it in
Whydah till I collected the true details. Some, indeed, and they were
not few, referred it to the first capture of Whydah by the Dahomans.]
[Footnote 95: Dr. M‘Leod (A Voyage to Africa), in 1803, considers Whydah
the “Circassia of Africa, not from the fairness, but from the glossy
blackness of the ladies’ skins, and the docility of their dispositions.”
Commander Forbes (1849) seems to have suffered from the “meretricious
gaze of the females,” which he attributes to the “personal depravity of
the slave merchants.” I saw no signs of this debauchery; the people were
civil and respectful—the one thing needful in the African.]
[Footnote 96: According to some, in the preceding month a brig had
cleared from Grand Popo, carrying 300 head.]