CHAPTER XVII.

Another Interview--Atassi--An Importunate Investigation--A

Shocking Accident--Yancoomassie Assin--Draggled

Plumes--An Unintentional Insult--A Scientific

Experiment--The Palaver at Elmina--Our future

Policy--Recent Explorations on the River Volta 297

TOWER HILL BARRACKS,

SIERRA LEONE,

_November, 1882_.

THE LAND OF FETISH.

CHAPTER I.

The Gambia--Bathurst--Jolloffs--Novel Advertisements--A

Neglected Highway--False Economy--History of the Gambia--Musical

Instruments--Burial Custom--Yahassu--St. James’ Island.

My first visit to the Gambia took place in March 1877, from Sierra

Leone. After two days’ steaming from the latter place we passed Cape

Bald, with the two queer little Bijjals Islands in front of it, and

sighted Cape St. Mary at the entrance of the river. On the high ground,

at the point, could be seen the long low white building of the deserted

barracks, and the tops of mangrove trees could be faintly distinguished

above the level of the sea in the distance to the right and left as we

entered the estuary; while, making a long sweep of two or three miles,

we reached the Fairway buoy, picked up a pilot, and steamed up the

river.

Bathurst, St. Mary’s Island, does not appear to advantage from the

anchorage. The island is low-lying and flat; in front is a row of

staring white houses, with a few stunted silk-cotton trees and

hearse-plume like cocoa-nut palms mounting guard over them, and--and

that is all. The prospect was not inviting, but, hoping that it

might prove better than it looked, I hailed a boat, and was pulled

to the shore. On the way several curious Shiriree canoes, fashioned

like crocodiles, and full of men, passed down the river. The bows

were filled with wooden idols, and in each canoe was a man beating a

tom-tom, and howling some monotonous ditty in a minor key.

The island of St. Mary is a mere sandbank, barely raised above the

level of the river, (in fact a considerable portion of it is below

high-water mark,) and is separated from the mainland by a narrow

mangrove swamp, dignified by the name of Oyster Creek, which is

fordable at low water. The centre of the isle can boast of a little

solidity, as a ridge of rock, covering about twenty square yards,

there crops up through the sand, and is pointed out to strangers by

the inhabitants with much pride, as a proof that their _demesne_ has a

stable foundation. The island has apparently been formed of the sand

thrown up by the meeting of the inflowing tide with the current of the

river. A bar, or sandbank, is now in course of formation to the south

of the island from the same causes, and in a few centuries the British

possessions in the Gambia will receive a considerable accession of

territory in that direction.

The town of Bathurst is small and insignificant: there is a row of

habitable buildings, principally stores, built of brick and stone,

facing the river, and behind this lies the remainder of the town, which

consists of native huts built of palm-leaves, old boards, and matting.

There are no made roads, and every street is ankle-deep in sand. To one

side of an open space in the centre of the town stand the old barracks,

in which the West India troops were formerly quartered, and this, with

Government House, which though small is perhaps the most comfortable

in West Africa, are the only two buildings in Bathurst worth a second

glance.

The natives of the country north of the Gambia are Jolloffs, an

entirely distinct race of negroes, and, as far as my experience goes,

the only really black people to be found in West Africa. The colour of

the ordinary negro is a deep brown, but the skin of the Jolloffs is

of a dead dull black. Their features differ from those of other races

on the coast: the eyes are slightly oblique and almond-shaped, the

nose long and inclined to be aquiline, and the lower part of the face

less prognathous than is usual amongst Africans. There is a tradition

amongst them that they were once white, and it may be a fact that in

the dim past their ancestors were of Arab blood, and that their colour

may be accounted for by a succession of marriages with the aboriginal

women of the country. Many of them are remarkably like Arabs in every

other respect, and both sexes wear the Arab costume. The women dress

their wool, which they suffer to grow long, into innumerable ringlets,

each about a foot in length and of the thickness of a pencil, which

hang down in a mass on their necks; some of them are rather handsome,

and have regular features.

There is a colony of Jolloffs in Bathurst, but the majority of the

people of that race that one sees in the town are traders from the

interior, who bring down their ground-nuts to exchange for powder,

muskets, and Kola nuts. In the one street of stores, of which I have

spoken, long lithe Jolloffs may be seen coming out of the shops with

trade muskets, the stocks of which are painted a brilliant red, and

the barrels made of renovated pieces of old gas-pipe. Into these

unquestionably deadly weapons they pour two or three handfuls of

powder, and then fire them off in the road to test them. The test

frequently leaves nothing remaining but a fragment of barrel and stock,

and the practice is one that is rather startling to strangers who may

happen to be passing by. The Kola nuts (_Sterculia acuminata_) are

eaten by the natives habitually, as sailors chew tobacco. They are said

to be particularly useful to travellers, as they prevent all sensations

of hunger, thirst, or weariness. I ate two or three as an experiment,

but I did not find that I was any the less ready for my dinner at

the usual hour. They are imported from the Timmanee country, near

Sierra Leone, principally in the neighbourhood of the Great and Little

Scarcies rivers, to which part, though distant three hundred miles from

the Gambia, large canoes and boats resort solely for the purpose of

obtaining them.

The English-speaking and Christianized negroes in Bathurst, most of

whom are emigrants from Sierra Leone, are a vast improvement upon their

compatriots in that negro paradise. They positively do a little work

occasionally, and some few of them might even be called industrious.

I could not discover the cause of the improvement. Perhaps it is

owing to the good example of the Jolloffs, or to there not being such

a redundancy of missionaries in the Gambia; but I think it is more

probably due to the fact that the island is so small that there is no

spare land on which they can squat and do nothing (even if there were

any soil to produce anything), so that they are obliged to work or

starve. They build cutters of from twenty-five to sixty tons’ burden,

which are used by the French merchants for bringing produce down the

river from their outlying factories, and for carrying cargo between

Bathurst and Goree or Dacar.

In the one street of Bathurst there is a fairly good market-shed for

native vendors of fruit and green-stuff, and I was going to look round

and see what there was to buy when I caught sight of a large slab of

marble let in to the rubble wall of the gateway. It bore the following

legend:--

“This market was erected by Colonel Luke S. O’Connor during his

Governorship, A.D. ----.”

I said to myself, “Oh! indeed,” and passed on.

Thirty yards further down the road I saw a tablet attached to an old

swish wall. I walked up to it and read:--

“This wall was repaired during the Administration of Colonel Luke S.

O’Connor, Governor, A.D. ----.”

It did not appear to me that this was such a stupendous feat as to need

commemoration, so I turned down a side-street and walked on. In a few

minutes I met a pump standing in the middle of the road. I saw there

was an inscription on this too, and tried to avoid it, but a fatal

fascination drew me on, and I read:--

“This pump was erected for the benefit of the thirsty wayfarer during

the Governorship of Colonel Luke S. O’Connor, A.D. ----.”

I began to get rather tired of this, and turned towards the country,

where I thought there could not be any more advertisements of this

kind. I passed a dilapidated battery, which bore testimony in letters

of stone to the worth of the departed monarch, Colonel Luke S. O’Connor

the First, and approached the Colonial Hospital. From afar off I

perceived a slab of darker stone let into the masonry of the wall, and

I turned my head the other way. It was no use, I could not pass it, and

I groaned in spirit as I read:--

“This building was enlarged during the Administration of Colonel S.

Luke O’Connor, Governor, A.D. ----.”

I staggered away and wandered into a neglected grave-yard by the side

of the path to Oyster Creek. I was in hopes that I might be able to

sooth my mind by finding the grave of this departed potentate; but,

alas! after a long search I only found a tomb which bore the following

remarkable epitaph:

“Sacred to the memory of the bodies of three sailors, which were washed

on shore on March ----, A.D. ----. This monument was erected during the

Administration of Colonel Luke S. O’Connor, Governor.”

I left hastily. That man was not going to let his fame languish and die

for want of a few monumental inscriptions.

The Gambia river is a magnificent highway to the interior of this

portion of Africa. Its estuary measures twenty-seven miles in breadth

from Bald Cape to Punshavel, and though it is only two miles across

from Bathurst to Barra Point, directly opposite, it widens out to

a breadth of seven miles immediately above St. Mary’s Island. At

Macarthy’s Island, one hundred and forty-seven miles up the stream,

the river is four hundred yards broad; and vessels drawing ten feet of

water can ascend even up to some seventy miles above Yahlahlenda. Here,

as in our other West African possessions, we have been retrograding

of late years. Only some twelve years ago, Macarthy’s Island was

garrisoned by troops, European traders had factories there, and small

steamers went up the river as far as the falls of Barraconda; while the

British name was respected, and the British power dreaded, far and wide

among the warlike tribes dwelling upon the river banks. Now the troops

have been withdrawn from the Gambia, Macarthy’s Island is deserted,

and the natives laugh at the idea of England being a powerful kingdom,

since her might is only represented in Bathurst by a miserable force of

one hundred policemen. In fact the colony is quite at the mercy of the

native chiefs, and but for their internecine squabbles and jealousies

would have already fallen a prey to them.

In 1869 the Third West India Regiment, then stationed in the Gambia,

was, as a measure of economy, disbanded by the Liberal Government

then in power, the Minister for War stating that £20,000 a year would

be saved by the transaction. The immediate result of this measure was,

that when, in the same year, Bathurst was threatened by hostile tribes

from the mainland, the Administrator had no garrison for the protection

of the lives and property of British subjects, and was compelled to

apply for assistance to the French at Goree. Two French men-of-war were

at once sent, and the colony was saved. The effect of this incident was

that the British Government, without consulting the inhabitants of the

Gambia, or mooting the subject in Parliament, offered the colony to

France; and, in spite of the protests of the people, who represented

that they were Protestants and did not wish to be subject to a Roman

Catholic power, the transfer would have been completed but for the

outbreak of the Franco-German war. In 1874-5 the subject again cropped

up, and, as a Conservative ministry was then in office, the French

offered their settlements at Grand Bassam, Assinee, and Gaboon, in

exchange for the Gambia. It is probable that this exchange, which would

have been most advantageous for England, as through the acquisition

of Assinee we should be able to control the importation of arms to

Ashanti, would have been effected, had not the matter become entangled

with the religious question. The Exeter Hall party brought all their

influence into play, and the French offer was declined.

A more serious result of the disbandment of the Third West India

Regiment was the Ashanti war of 1873-4. When the Ashanti invading

army crossed the Prah, the Administrator of the Gold Coast had only

two hundred soldiers with which to defend a colony of more than two

hundred miles in extent. Had the Third West India Regiment been then in

existence, and been sent to the Gold Coast with the same promptitude

that characterized the despatch of the Second West India Regiment in

1881, the war of 1873 would equally have been nipped in the bud. As it

turned out, the interest of the money expended in that war would have

more than sufficed to keep up the Third West India Regiment; so that no

saving was effected after all.

Our possessions in the Gambia consist of St. Mary’s Island, a strip

of land one mile in breadth on the river bank opposite, called “the

_ceded_ mile,” about three square miles of unoccupied bush and swamp

higher up on the western bank of the river known as Albreda, Macarthy’s

Island, and British Combo. Bathurst alone is inhabited by Europeans,

nearly all of whom are French. The trade is entirely in French hands,

the exports consisting principally of ground-nuts, hides, and beeswax,

of which the first are shipped to France and used in the manufacture

of olive oil. From a commercial point of view we have nothing to lose

by exchanging the Gambia; and should France again broach the subject,

as the present Government is now, 1881, almost identical with that

which offered the settlement unconditionally in 1869, it could now

hardly refuse to part with it without stultifying its former action.

At present we are playing the part of the fabled dog in the manger: we

will not make use of the Gambia as a means of opening up the interior,

nor expend any money on the colony; and, although it is of no value

to us as it is, we will not give it up to another nation, to which

it would prove exceedingly useful, and which is willing to make the

necessary outlay for unclosing this long-closed artery.

Our connection with the Gambia dates from 1588, in which year Queen

Elizabeth granted a patent to some Exeter merchants to trade there.

Thirty years later a company was formed for the purpose of carrying on

this trade, which almost entirely consisted of “trafficking in black

ivory,” as slave-dealing was euphonically termed. After the abolition

of the slave-trade this settlement, in common with the others in West

Africa, declined, and the colony was almost abandoned, until in 1816

a new mercantile company was formed by British traders from Senegal.

A dependency of the Gambia is Bulama Island, which lies to the east

at the mouth of the river Jeba, and where Captain Beaver established a

settlement in 1791 at Dalrymple Bay. There used to be a small garrison

kept up here under a subaltern officer, but after nine officers, in

succession, had died at their post from the effects of the climate, the

Government seemed to think the experiment had had a fair trial, and

the troops were withdrawn. The Jeba river is unapproachable from the

Gambia by land, as between the two lies the Casamanza river with its

dense forests and swamps, and the inhabitants of that cheerful region

are ferocious savages and cannibals. The Administrator of the Gambia

exercises no jurisdiction of any description over the tribes dwelling

in the vicinity of the British settlements.

The Jolloffs are a musical race. Besides being the happy possessors of

the tom-tom, or native drum, the six-stringed native banjo, and the

long reed-instrument which seems universal in West Africa, they are

the inventors of various musical machines peculiar to themselves. The

most curious of these is one formed of slabs of a dark, heavy, and

close-grained wood, which when struck emits musical sounds, varying

in depth of tone according to the size and thickness of the piece

of wood, the larger pieces giving forth bass notes and the smaller

treble. These are arranged in regular order so as to form a complete

gamut, and fastened above the halves of calabashes. It is in fact a

native dulcimer, in which wood takes the place of glass. They have also

a kind of kettledrum, in which the skin is stretched across half an

enormous calabash, highly polished and sometimes elaborately carved.

Another instrument is a species of zither, having ten strings, all

of which are made of some vegetable fibre, though I have somewhere

read that it is considered impossible to obtain strings suitable for

stringed instruments from such a source. Some of their tunes are

rather pleasing, though perhaps monotonous; but if, as some musicians

assert, repetition may be considered a beauty, the Jolloffs may be well

satisfied with their national music.

The Jolloffs have a curious burial custom. The body of the deceased

is laid out in the inclosure, or yard, which surrounds every Jolloff

house, where the ladies of the family prepare the kous-kous, and their

lord and master prays at morning and evening; and, when it is about to

be carried out for sepulture, the funeral party, instead of taking it

through the gate, proceed to demolish the whole fence. They consider

that it would be fatal to the deceased’s hopes of future bliss if his

body passed through any gate before he crossed the bridge of Al Sirat

and knocked at the door of paradise. Expectoration seems to be the

commonest form in which grief is exhibited by Jolloffs. Of course the

men never show even this sign of weakness; but the women at funeral

customs, or when they are grieved about anything, fill up the pauses of

their dirge, or complaint, with vigorous discharges of saliva. Any fly

within a radius of ten feet has but small chance of escape.

The Jolloff country extends from the Gambia to the French possessions

on the Senegal river, and is divided into three independent kingdoms,

viz. Senaar or Senegal, Saulaem, and Ballah. A late king of Senaar,

Jumail by name, was a source of considerable anxiety to the French, and

kept up a standing army of ten or twelve thousand cavalry, with which

he made frequent raids on the settlements. The religion of these people

is purely Mohammedan.

During one of my visits to the Gambia I crossed the river to look at

the country of the “ceded mile,” opposite Bathurst. At the extremity of

a promontory, where the visitor is usually landed, are the remains of

a small fort, called Fort Bullen, which has fallen into disuse since

the withdrawal of the troops; and from the summit of its walls one can

enjoy the pleasing prospect of miles upon miles of dwarf mangrove,

bounded on the horizon inland by a mass of tall cocoanut palms and

silk-cotton trees. To the east of the ceded mile lies the Mandingo

state of Barra, and to the west the country of the Shirirees, who are

idolaters.

The principal town in the British territory on this side of the river

is Yahassu; and the ride to it from Fort Bullen after the mangrove

strip is traversed is rather picturesque. The path throughout is shaded

by stately silk-cotton, teak, caoutchouc, and cedar trees; while

plantations of Indian corn and ground-nuts extend on either side.

Yahassu stands in the centre of an immense plantation of bananas, and,

like all Mandingo towns, is surrounded by a strong stockade, made of

the trunks of trees of different lengths, and consequently somewhat

irregular. The entrance is at a re-entering angle, and is defended by

a small brass cannon, the sole piece of artillery appertaining to the

town. The houses are all circular, and consist of a swish wall, about

four feet in height, with a conical thatched roof, the rafters of which

rest on an inner circular wall reaching to the apex, and forming an

inner apartment. The door of this second chamber is in a point of the

circumference of the inner circle diametrically opposite to the side

and into the outer circle, so that ingress to it is only obtainable

by traversing the first apartment, which is usually occupied by the

slaves, dependents, and household utensils of the proprietor. Each

house stands in a rectangular yard; and the streets of the town,

which are about six feet wide, are completely walled in by the plaited

palm-leaf fences of these yards. In the centre of the town is a square,

where stands a mosque, and a school in which the male children are

taught to read the Koran, which is written on wooden tablets whitened

with lime. In the neighbourhood of Yahassu, the last elephant seen in

this part of Africa was slain some twenty years ago.

After visiting one of these towns, one cannot help being struck with

the difference of manner between Christian and Mohammedan negroes.

The latter are courteous and dignified, never try to elbow a white

man out of the path, or shove against him, or pick a quarrel; and the

salutation, “Dam white nigger,” is replaced by the oriental “Salaam

Aleykoum,” “Peace be with you;” while the idleness, improvidence,

drunkenness, and ignorance of the former is replaced by industry,

frugality, temperance, and a certain amount of learning. Yet not

satisfied with looking after the converts they have already gained

or striving to obtain others from among the idolatrous pagans,

missionaries actually endeavour to reduce Mohammedans to the debased

condition of their Christian compatriots: fortunately they do not meet

with much success. However moralists may endeavour to explain the

cause, the fact remains that Christianity does not produce such good

results among negroes as do the tenets of Mohammed. Probably I shall

bring down a storm of indignation on my head by saying that I consider

the former is not a religion adapted to races barely emerging from

barbarism. At all events this is what my experience of South and West

Africa tells me.

About an hour’s row up the river from Bathurst is the island of St.

James, which was the site of the first British settlement established

in the Gambia. This isle, now so silent and deserted, was, towards the

end of the seventeenth century, the scene of much bloodshed. During

our numerous local wars with the French on this coast it was captured

by them, and re-captured by us, no less than three times. On the last

occasion a French naval force under the Count de Genes, in 1703,

destroyed all the houses and devastated the entire settlement; and it

was after this that the building of the town of Bathurst was commenced.

Why the new colonists did not re-occupy James Island it is difficult

to say, as it is fertile, well wooded, and fairly healthy, while St.

Mary’s is barren, treeless, and pestilential. The ruins of the old

fort, built in 1669, can still be distinguished from the river, covered

with brushwood and shrouded in trees. The island is now entirely

uninhabited, and its silence is never disturbed except by the advent of

an occasional fisherman from the neighbouring Mandingo town of Sikka.

It is from the Mandingo tribes, who inhabit the country bordering on

the river, that the supply of ground-nuts is principally obtained, and

in the swampy districts a good deal of rice is grown; they also trade

in beeswax and small quantities of gold. They are an industrious and,

generally speaking, harmless people, and a European, speaking Arabic,

might traverse the entire country alone and unarmed. To eat kola-nut

with, or present some kola-nuts to, a Mandingo or Jolloff, places a

stranger on the same footing as the tasting of salt does with an Arab;

and after such a ceremony one is entitled to protection and assistance.

A kola-nut is a good kind of passport and _viséd_ for any Mohammedan

town.

CHAPTER II.

British Combo--An interesting Conversation--Bakko--A small

Account--Sabbajee--Peculiar Governors--The Gambia Militia--A new

Field for Sportsmen.

Until I had visited British Combo I never could understand why it

was that old officers always spoke of the withdrawal of troops from

the Gambia with regret, and talked of that colony fondly as the best

station in West Africa; but after I had seen it, though shorn of its

former glories, it was quite comprehensible. Having borrowed from a

friend one of those diminutive but thoroughbred Arab horses common to

the country, I started from Bathurst one morning soon after daybreak on

my expedition. Passing the disgraceful burial-ground, and leaving to

the right Jolah town, which is inhabited by a race of outcasts supposed

to have no moral or religious code of any kind, and to possess their

women in common, I crossed a level tract of cultivated country, and

halted for a few minutes in the grove of palms at Oyster Creek. This

creek used to be the resort of the sporting members of the garrison,

who would supplement the somewhat scanty food supply of the colony

with green pigeons, wild ducks, curlew, and snipe from this place; but

now the report of a gun but rarely awakes its echoes.

On the other side of the creek I entered upon a swampy region,

consisting of stretches of sand and small lagoons surrounded by dwarf

mangroves; and after splashing through the last of these I found myself

in front of a dense growth of grass, eight or nine feet high. I thought

that if all the open country of which I had heard were like this I

should not care much about it, and rode into the narrow path which

lay before me. The grass closed overhead, and I could see nothing in

front but a long green tunnel, with occasional flecks of gold on the

sand where the sunlight broke through. The grass was heavy with dew; a

continual shower-bath of drops fell on me from above, and the long wet

stems brushed my legs on either side. I should have enjoyed it very

much if I had been unprovided with clothes, but I had not anticipated

this bath, and was consequently dressed.

After a couple of miles of this I emerged into an open plain, as

thoroughly wet through as if I had been towed behind a boat for a

quarter of an hour; but the view compensated for any little discomfort.

The country was of a dead level, covered with waving grass of a most

brilliant green, and dotted with clumps of palm and monkey-bread

trees; plantations of corn and ground-nuts appeared here and there;

the deserted barracks of Cape St. Mary glistened white in the sun from

a sand-ridge in the front; while to the left was the dense vegetation

and rich colouring of a tropical forest. In the foreground were several

of those peculiar trees which bear no leaves when in blossom, covered

with their scarlet tulip-like flowers, while herds of cattle in the

distance gave the scene almost a pastoral aspect. There may not seem

very much in this to cause ecstasy, but nobody who has not sojourned

for some months on the Gold Coast, surrounded by its interminable and

depressing bush, can understand the delight with which a little open

country may be greeted. The monkey-bread is not a handsome tree, and

might be compared to a distorted semaphore or a corpulent sign-post.

The trunks of these trees are sometimes immense, measuring from twenty

to twenty-five feet in circumference, but they only throw out two or

three stunted limbs, which can boast of but few twigs, and produce no

leaves to speak of.

I had reined in my horse near a conical ant-heap to look at a flock

of green parrots that were screaming round a crimson flowering shrub

when I observed two gorgeously-appareled Mandingos approaching me. One

wore a most elaborate turban, and his robe and sandals were highly

embroidered. He was apparently a chief, as the other, who was not much

behind-hand in the matter of brilliancy, was carrying, in addition to

his own spear, the curved sword and leather purse-bag of the former.

Both, it is needless to say, wore strings of leather-covered grisgris,

or amulets. I was anxious to air the little Arabic I knew, so as they

drew nigh I said,

“Salaam Aleykoum.”

They replied as one man, “Haira bi, haira bi,” and then stopped,

evidently waiting for more, while the spearman stirred up the sand with

the shaft of his weapon.

I was non-plussed, and thought that they were taking an unfair

advantage of me; but, as they both remained gazing upon me in an

attitude of earnest expectancy, I let off at them again my solitary

phrase, “Salaam Aleykoum.”

“Jam-diddi toh-chow haira-slocum-doodledum,” said the chief, or

something that sounded like it.

“Quite so,” I replied.

“Kara noona chi dodgemaroo,” he continued, excitedly.

“C’est vrai,” I responded, breaking out into another language in my

agony.

“Hanu sah daday,” he shouted, advancing towards me.

“Verbum sap,” I yelled, in despair.

“Ri-tiddi, to tolli, soh gamma,” they both shouted, and, bowing almost

to the earth, extended their hands deferentially towards me.

I shook them with unction, and they both passed on, highly gratified

with our interesting conversation, and pleased with the information

that I had given them. Really the Mandingos are a most intelligent

race, and how well these two understood what I had been telling them.

Riding on, I shortly arrived at a small village surrounded by a fence

made of palm-sticks, and further fortified on the exterior by hedges of

thorned acacia and prickly pear. This was the Mandingo town of Bakko,

and here the individual in whose honour the stone advertisements of

which I have spoken were erected was, during one of his numerous petty

expeditions, defeated with considerable loss by the natives under Hadji

Ismail, the black prophet. On that occasion a portion of the colonial

force was cut off and annihilated, while the remainder fell back

with considerable difficulty upon Bathurst, where, as the victorious

Mandingos followed up their success, and received large accessions to

their number from their warlike neighbours, the governor was obliged

ingloriously to apply to the French to save him and the colony.

I dismounted here, and was immediately surrounded by a crowd of naked

and grisgris-covered children, while three or four men lounging about

suspended their yawning and regarded me with stoical indifference. I

did not discharge my sentence at these, because I had learnt all the

news from the two with whom I had already conversed; and, besides, I

was rather fatigued with the previous conversation. After a few moments

a negro, clothed in the remnants of European garments, and whom in

consequence I inferred was not a Mohammedan, came up to me and said,

“Good morning.” He asked me what was my name, address, and occupation,

whether I was married or revelling in single bliss, if I had any rum

with me, and why I had come to Bakko; and in return vouchsafed the

information that he was a farmer. He said he would show me round the

town if I liked, so I left my horse in charge of a Mandingo and went

inside the fence.

The interior was a perfect labyrinth, and the houses similar to those

in the town of Yahassu, on the Barra side of the river, but smaller and

dirty. My guide pointed out to me several small edifices of palm-sticks

and bamboo, like miniature houses, raised upon piles inside the village

gate, and informed me that these were where the people kept their

corn. The doors to these granaries were merely bolted, and a piece of

paper, inscribed with a verse from the Koran in Arabic characters, was

fastened to each as a protection from thieves. My cicerone said,

“These are very foolish people, sar.”

“Are they? How?”

“They put dem writings on the bolts, and then think nobody can open the

doors.”

“Oh!”

“Yes; and them Mandingos won’t touch them when they’re leff so--they

’fraid to.”

“You’re not afraid, I suppose?”

“Me? No, I don’t care for grisgris. By’mby I show you my farm; when

these foolish people sleep on dark night, I take as much corn as I want

for planting time. They think it must be devil,” and he chuckled at the

joke.

“What religion are you then?”

“Oh! I b’long to the Wesleyans.”

“Ah! I thought so.”

My co-religionist informed me that the deer usually devoured half his

crops, and that leopards, and animals “that howled like drunken men at

night,” by which graphic description he meant hyenas, were so numerous

and bold in their raids on the poultry and dogs that the thorn hedges,

which I had noticed surrounding the village, were erected for their

special behoof. Beguiling the time with such artless conversation,

he led me round the village, and finally halted before a hut, which

he asked me to enter, saying it was his. As I thought he had been

unusually civil and obliging for an English-speaking negro, I did not

like to refuse, though I do not care to invade the sanctity of such

houses and inhale the odour thereof. I saw some six or seven women

suckling babies and pounding kous-kous, whom I learned were the wives

of my host, and sat down as far from them and as near to the door as

possible; while their lord and master produced a dirty-white piece of

paper and a lead pencil, and began writing away most laboriously.

After waiting a few minutes, and finding that my obliging friend was

still hard at work, I got up and said I was going. He added a few

finishing touches to his manuscript, came forward, and handed it to me.

I read as follows:--

Thomas Henry, services to European stranger from steamer.

£ _s._ _d._

1. To showing city of Bakko and

houses 0 15 0

2. To hunting information given as

to deer 0 2 6

3. Use of house for purpose of resting 0 10 6

4. To loss of time in performing

above services 0 1 0

--------------

£1 9 0

Isaid: “What does this mean? You don’t think I’m going to pay this, do

you?”

All the civility dropped from my guide’s manner like a mask, and he

said, jeeringly--

“I ’spose you call yourself a gen’leman.”

“I shall pay nothing of the sort,” I continued. “Do you think I’m a

fool?”

“Yes!”

I looked about for some implement of castigation, more weighty than my

light riding-whip, and said--

“What d’you say?”

He moved off to a safe distance, and replied:

“If you not a fool, I like to know what you come to this town for

nuffin for. You must be a fool, man.”

I saw there was nothing to be gained by following up this branch of

the discussion, so I returned to the original subject, and said,

decisively--

“I shall not pay you anything, for your impertinence.”

“’Spose you no pay, I keep the horse.”

The thought of what my friend’s face would be like if I returned to

Bathurst without his steed, was quite enough, and I hurried out of the

village to the spot where I had left the animal. He was nowhere to be

seen.

I felt then that I was up a tree of considerable altitude. If I went

back to Bathurst for police, the thief would decamp in my absence; and,

even if he obligingly remained to be caught, the delay of the law is

such that I should miss my passage by the steamer, which was to sail

next day. When I thought of my stupidity in leaving my horse, I began

to have an uncomfortable conviction that my guide’s estimate of my

character was correct; and I thought I should have to submit to his

extortion after all. While still deliberating on the probable results

of a violent assault on this amiable negro, a happy idea occurred to

me. I knew that in every Mohammedan town there was a head-man, or

alcaid, who, in those that were independent, was magistrate, governor,

and arbitrator in general, and answerable for the preservation of order

to the Mandingo king; while in those nominally subject to the British,

such as Bakko, he settled disputes between the natives, and regulated

the charges made against strangers for food and lodging; so I said to

my extortioner, who had followed me out of the village--

“I shall go to the head-man.”

My forlorn hope told; his countenance fell almost to zero; and without

waiting to consider that I did not know the alcaid, or where to find

him, and that if I did succeed in finding him I could not make him

understand my complaint, as I could not speak his language, he said,

sulkily,

“Well, I don’t want to make trouble, you can pay half.”

“I shall do nothing of the sort.”

“Give me five shillings, and the palaver’s set.”

“Certainly not.”

“Master, dash me two shillings for the boy that hold the horse, and I

go fetch him.”

I thought it would not do to push my advantage too far, so I agreed to

these terms, and in a few minutes this scoundrel brought out, from the

penetralia of some hovel in the village--my missing steed.

I climbed into the saddle, threw the money at the man’s head, and then,

with my whip--but no, I won’t say what I did, or I shall have the “poor

black brother society” of Exeter Hall down on me. It is sufficient to

say that I rode off in a more happy frame of mind, though still annoyed

to think that after the many years during which I had been acquainted

with the negro I should have been such an idiot as to imagine that a

Christianized and English-speaking low-class specimen of the species

could be polite and obliging without having some ulterior scheme of

insult or extortion in view.

On my return to Bathurst I learned that Bakko enjoyed anything but

an enviable reputation. It appeared that its inhabitants were outcast

Mandingos, who had found it advisable to leave their native country,

and who, while thoroughly grasping the full meaning of _meum_, had but

hazy and unsatisfactory notions as to the interpretation of _tuum_,

in consequence of which their society was rather avoided, and they

were rarely seen in the haunts of civilisation, except on those few

occasions on which the intelligent police might be observed escorting

them towards a public building yclept the jail.

From Bakko I rode on over open country, adorned with herds of

short-horned cattle and solitary pie-bald sheep with long tails, and

where occasionally the wild ostrich may be seen, to Josswang, close to

Cape St. Mary. There are a few houses here, which, in the palmy days

of the colony, were the country residences of the Bathurst merchants,

but which now are affected by the universal blight which has fallen

upon the settlement and fast becoming ruinous. Ten miles from Cape

St. Mary is the Mandingo town of Sabbajee, now belonging to British

Combo, which was the scene of one of the glorious exploits of the great

advertiser Colonel Luke S. O’Connor, who commanded a force which took

the town, stockaded like all such, by assault. That individual’s mania

for self-laudatory memorials was so great that on this occasion he, as

Governor, took away two large kettledrums which had been captured by

a West India Regiment, and, after a short interval, returned them to

the regiment, embellished with two silver plates, which set forth that

he, during his administration of the government, had presented these

drums to it for gallantry in the field; and then sent in a bill for the

plates.

He is not the only peculiar governor with which the Gambia has been

afflicted; one in particular I can remember who was notorious for his

parsimony throughout West Africa. I had known this potentate when

he revolved in a more humble sphere, and during one of my visits to

Bathurst (I shall not say in what year) I allowed myself the honour

of calling on him. At about 1 p.m. I presented myself at the door of

Government House and knocked; not a soul was to be seen anywhere, and

the place might have been deserted. I kept on knocking louder and

louder for some minutes, and then as nobody answered and the door was

wide open I walked in. I traversed one room, and, turning round the

corner of a screen, discovered a person attired in very seedy garments

employed in cutting mouthfuls off a slab of mahogany-coloured meat

which lay in a plate on a chair. This was the governor, but I should

never have recognised him in that position had it not been for the suit

of clothes he was wearing and which I remembered having seen on him

some years before. He received me with great affability, asked me to

sit down, and conversed about mutual acquaintances. He did not ask me

to join him in his lunch, for which I was not sorry, but he did ask me

to have a glass of wine. He said:

“Can I offer you a glass of pam wine?”

“I beg your pardon, I didn’t quite catch....”

“Will you take a glass of pam wine?”

I said, “I don’t quite know what you mean.”

“You don’t know pam wine? It is the sap of the pam tree; the natives

bring it round to sell. It is very refreshing.”

He meant that horrible emetic known as palm wine, and I declined with

thanks.

The subjects of this monarch said that he kept no servants, and made a

police orderly do all the housework. I saw nobody at all. They added

that he gave a small dinner once a quarter, and that everybody ate a

good square meal before going to it, because they knew that they would

not get enough to satisfy hunger at his table. All these West African

Governors neglect their duty in the matter of entertaining, though they

receive a special table allowance of £500 a year for that purpose.

A circular from the Colonial Office pointing out that that money is

intended for entertainment, and not for the defraying of ordinary

household expenses, would not be out of place.

The Gambia boasts of a local corps of militia. It is not often called

out, principally because there is no particular uniform for it, no

officers, except two unmilitary Colonial officials, and no arms, except

old trade muskets, for the men. As the latter are mostly decrepid old

pensioners and discharged men, all Africans, from the disbanded West

India regiments, it is not a very formidable body. It is a curious

fact that Africans cannot, as a rule, be taught to shoot straight: the

practice of the Houssa Constabulary on the Gold Coast is deplorable,

and it is well known that it is the bad shooting of the few Africans

who still remain in the existing West Indian Regiments that pulls down

the figure of merit in those corps. There is no such difficulty with

West Indian negroes, for the average recruit from the West Indies is

as good a shot as the British recruit, and this almost seems to show

that a certain amount of cultivation and civilisation is necessary for

making a marksman. In these days of long-range firing it is fortunate

that recruiting in Africa has ceased.

Should any of my readers feel tempted to visit the Gambia, I believe

that they would find a hitherto unopened field for sport at the

upper waters of that river. Certain it is that elephants abound

some distance above the falls of Barraconda, the river is full of

hippopotami and crocodiles; while leopards, hyænas, antelopes, and

civet-cats are easily found, by any one who knows how and where to

look, in the vicinity of Bathurst itself. Of the feathered tribes,

quail, curlew, snipe, duck, and the usual varieties of cranes and

parrots, are common; while the valuable marabout bird and the ostrich

are frequently bagged by the badly-armed and worse-shooting Mandingos

and Jolloffs.

CHAPTER III.

The Slave Coast--Whydah--The Dahoman Palaver of 1876--The

Dahoman Army--An Unpleasant Bedfellow--The Snake House--Dahoman

Fetishism--Various Gods--A Curious Ceremony--Importunate

Relatives--The Dahoman Priesthood.

Towards the end of the year 1879 I visited Whydah, the seaport of

Dahomey, on the Slave Coast. Between Whydah and the boundary of the

Gold Coast Colony, now advanced to Flohow, about two miles beyond the

old smuggling port of Danoe, are the ancient slave stations of Porto

Seguro, Bageida, Little Popo, and Grand Popo; and the lagoon system,

which commences with the Quittah Lagoon to the east of the river Volta,

extends along the whole of this coast as far as Lagos. These lagoons

are however gradually silting up, and this movement is proceeding so

rapidly that already canoes can only pass from Elmina Chica to Porto

Seguro during the rainy season, the old bed of the lagoon being a vast

arid plain during the summer.

Passing the clump of trees three miles east of Grand Popo known as

Mount Pulloy, and which is one of the principal landmarks of this

lowlying coast, we anchor off the town of Whydah, eleven miles from

Grand Popo. The landing here is very bad, the surf being worse than at

any other port in West Africa, and sharks abound. In fact in the spring

of 1879 the canoemen employed by the different trades at this place

struck work, so many of their number having been devoured by these

denizens of the deep.

The lagoon at Whydah is a quarter of a mile in breadth and from four to

five feet deep; it is separated from the sea by a sand-ridge, 880 yards

broad. On this sand-bank stand the stores and sheds of the different

mercantile firms, French, English, and German; but the traders are not

allowed by the Dahomans to live there, and after business hours they

have to cross over to the town of Whydah, which lies a mile and a half

inland on the northern shore of the lagoon.

The king of Dahomey is the only absolute monarch known in West Africa,

the power of all the other negro potentates being limited by the

influence and authority of the principal chiefs and captains, as that

of the king of Ashanti is limited by the dukes of Ashanti, but he of

Dahomey knows no other law than that of his own sweet will. Even the

European traders who reside at Whydah are to a considerable extent

subject to the native laws, or in other words to the king’s pleasure,

and none of them would be allowed to leave the country without

permission.

The king has some knowledge of European methods of raising a revenue,

and an _ad valorem_ duty is imposed on imported goods, while each

vessel on entering the port has to pay a certain quantity of goods,

assessed according to the number of her masts, to the king. To the

east and west of Whydah stake and wattle fences extend across the

lagoon, closing all passage except through small openings, where are

stationed his Majesty’s revenue officers, who stop and examine all

canoes passing through, and frequently help themselves to anything that

takes their fancy. Little Popo and Grand Popo are both claimed by the

king of Dahomey, but are really independent. As the natives of these

towns will not acknowledge him as suzerain he periodically makes raids

upon villages lying on the northern side of the lagoon. The two towns

themselves being situated on the sand-bank are safe from attack, as,

since the Dahomans attacked Grand Popo by water and were defeated, it

is a law that no Dahoman warrior shall enter a canoe.

In 1876 we had a difference with the king of Dahomey. In the early part

of that year Messrs. F. and A. Swanzy’s agent at Whydah, an English

gentleman, was maltreated by order of the caboceer of the town, and

subsequently sent to Abomey, the capital, as a prisoner. There he was

treated with every indignity, compelled to dance before the king’s

wives, and was daily dragged out, bareheaded, to be present at the

execution of criminals or sacrifice of human victims, hints not being

spared that he might shortly prepare himself for a similar fate.

Eventually, after being mulcted of money and goods, he was suffered to

escape.

As a compensation for this outrage on a British subject, Commodore

Hewett, who commanded the West African squadron, demanded a fine of one

thousand puncheons of palm-oil, and threatened to blockade the coast

from Adaffia to Lagos if it were not forthcoming. The king refused

to pay the fine, and the coast was blockaded from July 1st. Both the

Dahomans and the British residents in West Africa anticipated that war

would ensue. The king had impediments placed in the lagoon at Whydah

and collected bodies of Amazons in the vicinity of that town. On our

side the system of lagoons between Lagos and Dahomey was surveyed by

naval officers, and it was found that small steamers could ascend to

within thirty miles of Abomey. In September 1876 the Dahoman troops

advanced towards Little Popo, and destroyed several villages in that

neighbourhood; an attack on the British settlement at Quittah was also

threatened.

The blockade continued till 1877, when a French firm at Whydah, rather

than suffer their trade to remain at a standstill, paid, in the name

of the king, a first instalment of two hundred puncheons of palm-oil.

The whole of this was lost in the SS. Gambia, which was wrecked on the

Athol Rock off Cape Palmas. This was the first and last instalment

ever paid by, or for, the King of Dahomey; and in 1878 and 1879, when

a second instalment was demanded, the King flatly refused to pay

anything. The blockade, however, was not renewed.

Thus affairs remain at the present day. For an outrage on a British

subject we demand compensation, a portion of the sum demanded is paid

by a French house, and the matter is allowed to drop. This is almost a

repetition of what occurred with regard to the Ashanti war indemnity.

The Ashanti envoys who signed the conditions of peace paid to Sir

Garnet Wolseley 2,000 ounces out of the 50,000 demanded, and promised

to pay the rest by quarterly instalments. When the first became due

an officer was sent to Coomassie with an escort of constabulary to

receive it, and it was obtained without trouble; on the third occasion,

when the same officer, Captain Baker, was sent, the King said the gold

was not ready. Captain Baker replied that he would leave next day at

noon whether the gold was forthcoming or not. On the day following he

paraded his men and marched out amid hootings and derisive laughter,

but when he had reached the Ordah river runners overtook him with the

gold dust. The Colonial Government, however, thought it would not be

advisable to send for any more instalments, and no more have been paid.

West African natives are now beginning to regard Great Britain as a

power which is satisfied with threatening punishment, and one that

would not go to any trouble to obtain actual redress, especially where

the offending state was powerful.

It was indeed whispered in official circles on the Gold Coast that an

expedition to Abomey would have been undertaken but for the opposition

of the French Government. There is no doubt that the French are a

little sore at the withdrawal of our offer to give them our possessions

on the Gambia river, and this has been shown by their endeavouring to

intimidate the people of Catanoo into hoisting the French flag, and,

later, by their occupation of the island of Matacong near Sierra Leone;

but as far as regards Whydah neither France nor any other European

power has any claim to any portion of its soil.

The annexation of Whydah would not be a difficult matter, and that is

the only real obstacle to our possessing a compact colony extending

from Assinee to Lagos. We should find allies in the Egbas of

Abbeokuta, the people of Grand and Little Popo, and in the inhabitants

of Whydah itself, who, in the last century, were an independent people,

and who still bear no goodwill to their conquerors. The Amazons are

the _élite_ of the Dahoman army, and they have shown at Abbeokuta and

elsewhere that they can fight with a ferocity that more resembles

the blind rage of beasts of prey than human courage. Their number is

variously estimated at from 15,000 to 20,000, and their warlike spirit

is kept alive by a yearly war which commences every April. Numbers of

the male prisoners made in these periodical wars are drafted into the

Dahoman army, so that it may reasonably be supposed that a considerable

portion of the male army corps is but luke-warm in its fealty. The

whole Dahoman army is estimated at 60,000 soldiers, all of whom carry

fire-arms, and a great number breach-loaders, the importation of which

has of late years been carried on extensively at all parts of the West

Coast.

In 1876 it was proposed that a flotilla should ascend the lagoons

from Lagos to within thirty miles of Abomey and there disembark

troops. As however all that we should require would be the possession

of Whydah it seems objectless to proceed to Abomey, where we should

have to attack the enemy in the midst of his resources, and where, if

we did suffer a reverse, it would be irretrievable and none could

escape. A much less dangerous plan would be to land, unexpectedly,

at Grand Popo (the Whydah surf making the disembarcation of troops

there out of the question), a small force of from 800 to 1,000 men.

These men, proceeding by lagoon, would be in Whydah in two hours:

there are no Dahoman troops there, and there would be no resistance.

As Abomey is sixty miles from Whydah, a day and a-half would elapse

before intelligence of this occupation could reach the King, two days

at least would be occupied in mustering the army and performing the

fetish ceremonies necessary before commencing a war; and the army would

be another day and a-half on the march downwards, so that five days

would elapse between the entry of British troops into the town and

the arrival of the enemy. It is not at all improbable that if Whydah

were occupied in force the King, who is not by any means ignorant of

the power of Great Britain, would make the best of a bad business and

cede it to us with what grace he could. In any case by seizing his

solitary port we should make him entirely dependent upon us for the

African necessaries of life, viz., rum, tobacco, and gunpowder, and by

cutting off his supplies could soon bring him to terms. Our territorial

possessions in West Africa will surely increase, and as they do so and

fresh tribes are brought under our rule, some scheme of disarmament

similar to that carried out in South Africa will have to be enforced.

By occupying the Slave Coast we should be able to anticipate events by

prohibiting the importation of arms now, and at the same time we should

consolidate our West African possessions.

In Whydah are the remains of several so-called forts, some of which

are still inhabited, though the majority have fallen into disuse. The

principal are the English, French, and Portuguese forts, and consist

of swish buildings surrounded by loop-holed walls. They were built

early in the last century, when the King of Whydah, which was then an

independent state, allotted portions of ground to each nationality for

trading purposes. These old buildings, like all similar ones in West

Africa, are garnished with dozens of obsolete and useless guns.

Three out of the five districts into which the town of Whydah is

divided derive their names from these forts, being called English

Town, French Town, and Portuguese Town. The two remaining districts

are called Viceroy’s Town and Charchar Town. Each district is under

the superintendence of a yavogau or caboceer, who is responsible for

everything that occurs in his district.

While at Whydah I stayed at the French factory, and there I had a

rather unpleasant adventure on the night of my arrival. It was a very

close night, and I was sleeping in a grass hammock slung from the

joists of the roof, when I was awakened by something pressing heavily

on my chest. I put out my hand and felt a clammy object. It was a

snake. I sprang out of the hammock with more agility than I have ever

exhibited before or since, and turned up the lamp that was burning on

the table. I then discovered that my visitor was a python, from nine to

ten feet in length, who was making himself quite at home, and curling

himself up under the blanket in the hammock. I thought it was the most

sociable snake I had ever met, and I like snakes to be friendly when

they are in the same room with me, because then I can kill them the

more easily; so I went and called one of my French friends to borrow

a stick or cutlass with which to slay the intruder. When I told him

what I purposed doing he appeared exceedingly alarmed, and asked me

anxiously if I had yet injured the reptile in any way. I replied that

I had not, but that I was going to. He seemed very much relieved,

and said it was without doubt one of the fetish snakes from the

snake-house, and must on no account be harmed, and that he would send

and tell the priests, who would come and take it away in the morning.

He told me that a short time back the master of a merchant-vessel had

killed a python that had come into his room at night, thinking he was

only doing what was natural, and knowing nothing of the prejudices of

the natives, and had in consequence got into a good deal of trouble,

having been imprisoned for four or five days and made to pay a heavy

fine.

Next morning I went to see the snake-house. It is a circular hut, with

a conical roof made of palm-branches, and contained at that time from

200 to 250 snakes. They were all pythons, and of all sizes and ages;

the joists and sticks supporting the roof were completely covered

with them, and looking upwards one saw a vast writhing and undulating

mass of serpents. Several in a state of torpor, digesting their last

meal, were lying on the ground; and all seemed perfectly tame, as they

permitted the officiating priest to pull them about with very little

ceremony.

Ophiolotry takes precedence of all other forms of Dahoman religion, and

its priests and followers are most numerous. The python is regarded as

the emblem of bliss and prosperity, and to kill one of these sacred

boas is, strictly speaking, a capital offence, though now the full

penalty of the crime is seldom inflicted, and the sacrilegious culprit

is allowed to escape after being mulcted of his worldly goods, and

having “run-a-muck” through a crowd of snake-worshippers armed with

sticks and fire-brands. Any child who chances to touch, or to be

touched by, one of these holy reptiles, must be kept for the space of

one year at the fetish house under the charge of the priests, and at

the expense of the parents, to learn the various rites of ophiolotry

and the accompanying dancing and singing.

Fetishism in Dahomey is entirely different to fetishism on the Gold

Coast, and more nearly approaches idolatry, as the unsubstantial

shadows and apocryphal demons, which are worshipped and dreaded by the

Fantis and Ashantis, are on the Slave Coast replaced by images and

tangible objects. Before every house in Whydah one may perceive a cone

of baked clay, sometimes large and sometimes small, the apex of which

is discoloured with libations of palm-wine, palm-oil, &c. This is the

fetish Azoon, who protects streets, houses, and buildings of every

description.

By the side of each road leading from the town grotesque clay images,

roughly fashioned into the human shape in a crouching position, may be

perceived, protected from atmospheric influences by a rough shed. This

is Legba, who is sometimes represented of the sterner and sometimes of

the softer sex, and propitiatory offerings to this fetish are supposed

to remove barrenness. Somewhat similar to Legba is Bo, who is the

special guardian of soldiers.

The ocean is very generally worshipped, and has a chief fetish man

of high rank dedicated to its use, besides a large train of ordinary

fetish men. This high official at certain seasons descends to the

beach, shouts forth a series of incantations, and requests the sea to

calm itself, throwing at the same time offerings of corn, cowries,

or palm-oil into it. Sometimes, too, the King of Dahomey sends an

ambassador, arrayed in the proper insignia, with a gorgeous umbrella

and a rich dress, to his good friend the ocean. This ambassador is

taken far out to sea in a canoe, and is then thrown overboard and left

to drown or to be devoured by sharks. The honour of this diplomatic

post is not much coveted by Dahomans.

Perhaps the fetish most dreaded is So, the God of thunder and

lightning, as what are considered to be the effects of his anger

are frequently both seen and felt; So being supposed to strike with

lightning those who disbelieve in his power or presume to scoff at him.

It is unlawful for any person who has been killed by lightning to be

buried, and it is commonly believed on the Slave Coast that the bodies

of those who have met their death in this manner are cut up and eaten

by the priests of So.

A minor fetish is Ho-ho, who protects twins, who in Dahomey are always

named Ho-ho, as on the Gold Coast they are called Attah; and, in

addition to those I have already enumerated, and which are the most

commonly worshipped, the Dahomans worship the sun, the moon, fire, the

leopard, and the crocodile.

The Dahomans place around the house a country rope, _i.e._ one made of

grass, festooned with dead leaves, which is a fetish to prevent the

building taking fire. When a large fire occurs they frequently kill the

owner of the habitation in which it first broke out, considering that

it originated through some sacrilege or omission of fetish worship.

They also place a ridiculous caricature of the human form, made of

grass, old calabashes, or any rubbish, on the doorposts of their houses

and on the gates of inclosures, to keep evil spirits from entering

therein; and a fowl nailed to a post, with its head downwards, is

considered a charm to prevent an unfavourable wind.

The reverence which is paid to unusually tall and fine trees forms a

curious contrast to the foregoing barbarous beliefs. The silk-cotton

tree (_bombax_) and the well-known poison-tree of West Africa are those

most commonly selected. Libations in honour of these trees are poured

into perforated calabashes placed round their roots.

One morning I saw a Dahoman, arrayed in spotless white raiment, seated

on a mat in an open space opposite the factory, and surrounded by

a small crowd of enraptured lookers-on. My thirst for information

is so insatiable that I never can see a crowd without wanting to

ascertain what is the matter, so I put on my helmet and went out. I

found the individual in white surrounded by small calabashes; one

of which contained water, a second rum, a third kola-nuts, and a

fourth a live fowl; and an old fetish lady sat opposite to him on the

edge of the mat, swaying backwards and forwards, and singing some

excruciating ditty in a low voice. Presently she dipped her fingers

into the calabash full of water, and annointed the crown, forehead,

chin, and neck of the patient with the fluid; then she sang another

verse, and repeated the process with the rum. The man seemed decidedly

refreshed after this, and I thought it was perhaps some native kind of

shampooing. After a short interval the old woman selected a kola-nut,

hurled it violently to the ground, examined all the broken pieces, and

then, picking up one fragment that seemed to satisfy her, proceeded

to chew it. When it was sufficiently masticated, she removed it from

her mouth, and touched up the sufferer with it as before; then she

decapitated the fowl, and, taking the bleeding head, went over the same

ground, for the fourth time, with it. After that she, and as many of

the bystanders as had a chance, fell violently upon the calabash of rum

and drank it, and the meeting broke up. I was confident in my own mind

that the man who had been operated on was sick, and that what I had

seen was a fetish cure; but one of my French friends told me that it

was a ceremony of common occurrence, and that the man was worshipping

his head in order to obtain good fortune. I had noticed that he had

seemed relieved when it was all over, as if he had been glad to be able

to get out of his clean raiment, but his head did not appear to be any

better than it was before.

When a Dahoman falls ill he immediately fancies that the departed

spirit of one of his ancestors or relatives wishes to see him and

requires his presence below, and is undermining his health so that

the interview may be hastened by his death. To avoid this unwelcome

friendship he consults a fetish man, and begs him to use his influence

with the unquiet spirit, so that he may be excused paying the

unpleasant visit for the present; at the same time he deposits cowries

in the hands of the priest by way of fee. The latter, if he thinks

that the invalid is likely to recover, soon relieves his apprehensions

by telling him that he has obtained him permission to postpone the

interview indefinitely. If, on the other hand, the patient’s case be

doubtful, the fetish man procrastinates till more decided symptoms

set in; and then, if the disease be likely to terminate fatally, he

dolefully informs the sick man that he has used every means in his

power to conciliate the unquiet spirit, but without effect. This,

adding to the fears of the invalid, generally hastens the end.

A resident in Whydah told me that he once heard the following

conversation between a sick man and a priest. The sick man said:--

“Who is it that wants to see me, and is troubling me now?”

“Oh! it is the ghost of your brother Gele. He is anxious to have some

conversation.”

“Ah! it’s only him, is it? You’re sure there’s nobody else?”

“Oh! no--there’s nobody else.”

“Well just remind him, will you, how I used to thrash him when he was

alive; and tell him if he doesn’t leave off bothering me now I’ll make

him have a bad time of it when I go below.”

The future habitation of the Dahoman soul is supposed to be a gloomy

region situated under the earth, and like the world, but deprived of

most of its beauties and pleasures. A Dahoman, like the inhabitants of

the Gold Coast, believes in no future state of rewards and punishments,

and he is firmly persuaded that the social position which he holds in

life will be identically the same with that which he will hold in the

regions of the dead. A chief in life will be a chief after death, and a

slave will be a slave.

In Dahomey the fetish men are divided into distinct sects, according

to the deity for which they officiate--the priests of the snake-house,

for instance, having nothing to do with those of Legba, and so on.

The rancour, however, which is exhibited between the various sects of

Christianity is here wanting. When a Dahoman wishes to devote himself

to the service of the gods he is not permitted to choose any deity

he pleases. He has to work himself up into a state of frenzy, during

which an old priest places round him images of the different deities,

and the one with which he first comes in contact is the one which he

is destined to serve. These neophytes usually preserve some kind of

method in their madness, and take care to touch the representative of

that form of worship to which they are most inclined, though sometimes

accidents do happen and a wrong one is touched. The fetish men speak

a language peculiar to themselves, and unknown to the common people,

which they learn in the fetish schools, and call “the holy fetish

word.” They have likewise many privileges, and can wear any dress they

please; whereas the laity are obliged to clothe themselves according

to the positions which they hold in Dahoman society. When the fetish

fit, or frenzy, overtakes a priest, he can do anything he pleases

without being held accountable for it; ordinary people, therefore, do

not care to make enemies of priests.

CHAPTER IV.

The Amazons--Trying Drill--System of Espionage--The

Annual Customs--Human Sacrifices--The Dahoman Repulse at

Abbeokuta--Natural Features of Dahomey--Agriculture--The Whydah

Bunting.

I was wandering one day with one of my hosts, up the main road that

leads from Whydah to Kana, the second town of the kingdom, when we

heard the tinkle of a bell in front of us, momentarily drawing nearer.

Several Dahomans who were passing at once put down their loads and

rushed into the tall grass which bordered the road on either side,

while my companion stepped off the path and turned his back to it. I

said--

“What’s the matter?”

“The King’s wives are coming, and no man is allowed to look at them.

You must do as I do.”

“All right!”

I said “All right,” but I had not the remotest intention of losing such

a sight, so I stood behind him where he could not see what I was doing,

and, as the galaxy of beauty approached, I covered my face with my

hands and--looked through my fingers.

First came a young lady bearing in one hand a small bell, which she

rang incessantly, and in the other a whip, with which to drive male

loiterers into the bush. Her arms from the wrist to the elbow were

covered with amulets of silver, the distinguishing mark of officers

of Amazons, and she was further attired in a short tunic of blue and

white. She looked at me in a hesitating manner, as if she could not

make up her mind whether to use her whip on me or not, but, thinking

that I looked innocent and harmless, she grinned affably and passed

on. After her came fifteen or twenty more women, likewise attired in

blue and white tunics, and all armed. They were Amazons. The leader, or

captain, was not a bad-looking young woman, and carried a Winchester

repeating-rifle slung across her back: the rest were like the average

women of the country, that is to say, plain, and were armed some with

Enfield rifles and some with muskets. All wore cartridge-belts and

pouches, and carried long knives or _machetes_, with which it is said

they mutilate the wounded in a horrible manner. Several of them were

disfigured with the scars of long gashes on the cheeks and forehead,

the usual West African sign of slavery; all of them looked wiry and

muscular, and were covered with the cicatrices of old wounds. They soon

passed by, and their bell was heard tinkling in the distance.

When my companion found out what I had done, he was very angry. He

said that very serious consequences might have ensued, and that, as he

was a resident and I only a visitor, all the trouble would have fallen

on him. There was a good deal of truth in this, and I said I was very

sorry, but I had some difficulty in making my peace.

The institution of the armed body of Amazons dates from 1728, when the

then King of Dahomey, having had his forces greatly reduced by sickness

and the casualties of war, hit upon the happy expedient of arming a

number of women to recruit his forces.

These were trained as soldiers, and officers were selected from those

among them who showed the greatest aptitude. With these novel troops

the King obtained a signal victory over the people of Whydah.

The Amazons are sworn to strict celibacy, and the King alone has the

_privilege_ of choosing wives from their ranks. They are known in

Dahomey by the names of “The King’s Wives” and “Our Mothers,” live

in the King’s palace and there perform their fetish ceremonies with

great mystery. At the gate of the habitation, or barracks, of these

soldieresses, a curious fetish is hung, which is supposed to ensure the

certain exposure of any Amazon who has broken her vow of continence;

and the very fear of this fetish often causes the woman who has erred

to confess her fault, and doom both her lover and herself to a

horrible death. The stature and physique of the women of Dahomey, as

is the case in many other parts of Africa, are quite equal to that of

the men, and as all the labour falls to their share, their muscular

strength is perhaps more developed than that of the lords of creation.

The Amazon ranks are recruited by girls of from thirteen to fifteen

years of age, who are trained in military exercises, but not allowed to

bear arms till they have attained a more mature age; and women who have

committed capital offences are frequently allowed to escape punishment

by enlisting in this female body-guard. The training to which these

recruits are subjected inures them to hardship and to physical pain.

They are made to sleep out in inclement weather, to suffer blows

without a murmur, to fast and bear all privations.

Their drill is peculiarly unpleasant: one variety, which is supposed

to make them _au fait_ at scaling walls, consists of a succession of

rushes to, and clamberings to the top of, a tall hut covered with

prickly pear, the thorns of which lacerate them terribly. Drill of

this description was the cause of the numerous scars I had observed

on the bodies of the Amazons. I wonder how many recruits we should

obtain for the British army if, amongst other things, the recruit

had to precipitate himself upon _chevaux-de-frise_, or clamber over

walls adorned with pieces of broken glass. In battle, the Amazons

fire rapidly for a few minutes, then throw down their fire-arms, and,

uttering terrific screams and shouts, charge on the foe with their

knives. With these they do terrible execution, and even when shot down

and trampled under foot will fight on to the last gasp, making blind

stabs at the enemy above, and biting and tearing the feet and legs of

those standing over them. It would be difficult to prophesy how British

troops would meet these soldier-women at first, but experience would

soon teach them that they need have no compunction in shooting them

down.

The party of Amazons that I encountered had come down to Whydah to

take some caboceer, who had incurred the king’s displeasure, up to

Abomey. Everything that is done in Whydah is known to the king, for

a most complete system of espionage there prevails; every man, from

the yavogau, or chief caboceer, downwards, being watched by two or

more spies, who are themselves under surveillance. To have authentic

information of what goes on in the bosoms of the families of the

caboceers, the king sends them occasionally one or more of his wives,

who are no longer in the first blush of youth, as a present. This

honour cannot be declined, and the chiefs have to admit to their

families women whom they must treat with kindness, and whom they well

know are only sent to report upon their most secret conversations

and actions. By this system the king has made every man in Whydah

distrustful of every other, and, consequently, any conspiracy or revolt

against his authority impossible. Even such minute things as the number

of yards in each piece of print paid on a ship being entered at the

port are reported to him, and the unfortunate caboceer who had been

sent for was accused of having appropriated to his own use a small

piece of cloth, the trade value of which was at the most three or four

shillings, and for which he would now have to pay probably with his

head.

The “Customs” of Dahomey are three in number, viz.: The carrying

goods to market, the “Water Sprinkling,” and the Ahtoh. At the Water

Sprinkling custom, which means, in the Dahoman sense of the word, blood

sprinkling, the king sacrifices one or two slaves and pours their blood

upon the graves of his ancestors. This is done as a mark of respect,

and moreover is considered as necessary for the welfare of the deceased

by Dahomans, as masses for the souls of the dead are by the Roman

Catholic variety of Christians.

The great annual custom, which takes place towards the middle of the

month of May, and lasts for six weeks, is the most interesting. To this

custom all the subjects of the king are invited, and all travellers

or strangers in the kingdom are ordered to the capital. The first day

is taken up by levées, a review of the Amazons, and the usual dancing,

singing, and firing of guns; all of which takes place in the large

square, or market-place, of Abomey. The victims to be sacrificed are

confined in a wattle hut, called the victim-house, situated in this

square; each prisoner being bound to the stool on which he sits, and

further prevented from attempting to escape by long ropes fastened

securely to his limbs and stretched tightly to the beams forming the

shed. They are attired in long red caps adorned with festoons of

ribbons, and wear white shirts ornamented at the neck and sleeves with

scarlet, and with a large scarlet patch sewn on over the region of the

heart.

The second day of the custom is called “_Ekbah tong ekbeh_,” or

“Carrying goods to market,” and is really a display of all the more

portable wealth of the king. The performance opens with the exhibition

of the relics of the late king in a shed in the market-place; and all

present pay devout obeisance to them, believing that the spirit of the

departed despot is present, and that he would terribly resent any want

of respect. After this various dances symbolical of battle, such as the

charge, mélée, and the slaughter of prisoners, are performed by the

Amazons, the king himself sometimes taking part in them. The march-past

of the king’s worldly goods then takes place, and continues till

dark. The most extraordinary and incongruous exhibitions take place. A

procession of slaves bearing state-swords, gold and silver ornaments,

and articles of great intrinsic value, may be preceded or followed by

a band bearing vessels of crockery of the commonest and most homely

description. Articles of earthenware that are not usually exhibited in

public are here paraded in large numbers, mixed up in the strangest

confusion with silks, satins, umbrellas, Manchester prints, clocks,

bottles, pipes, tea-pots, cups, saucers, knives, forks, European

clothes, and all the miscellaneous rubbish which has been collecting

for years in the curiosity shop known as the Royal Treasury. Articles

of apparel of the seventeenth century are not uncommonly seen at this

custom, and there are many objects of _vertu_ which would delight

the heart of a Wardour Street connoisseur, and which were, probably,

originally presents to the king from the slave-traders of a century and

a-half ago.

The third day of the custom is known as “_Ek-gai nu Ahtoh_,” or “The

throwing of cowries from Ahtoh”; Ahtoh being an immense raised platform

which is built in the market-place specially for this ceremony. The

platform is hung with banners and flags and covered with cloth of every

conceivable hue, while over it spread the large canopies of the state

umbrellas, made of strips of brilliant-hued silks and satins. To one

side of this “Ahtoh” is an inclosure in which are the victims for

sacrifice, bound hand and foot, and fastened into small canoes, or long

baskets of stout wicker-work.

The king, accompanied by his wives and principal chiefs, occupies the

summit of Ahtoh, and from time to time throws into the crowd handfuls

of cowries and pieces of cloth, to be scrambled for. It is usually

supposed that the Dahoman public is admitted to this scramble, but it

is not so, and the whole ceremony is a fraud and a mere affectation

of generosity. Soldiers alone are allowed to scramble, and the goods

and cowries are their pay; for the Dahoman soldier, whether male or

female, receives no regular stipend. They are fed and clothed at the

king’s expense, and a moderate sum, the amount of which depends upon

the success that has attended the royal arms during the past year, is

set aside to be thrown from “Ahtoh.” The officers of the army generally

contrive in this scramble to obtain all the cloth, leaving the rank and

file to fight and struggle for the cowries; and in the wild confusion

that ensues men are not unfrequently maimed or trodden to death.

After the goods that have been set aside for this purpose have all been

thrown into the panting and perspiring crowd, the victims for sacrifice

are brought up on to Ahtoh, carried on men’s heads, and taken to the

edge of the platform to be shown to the mob. They are greeted with wild

yells and cries, the executioners thronging to the foot of the platform

and brandishing their knives, while the crowd arm themselves with clubs

and branches, calling on the king to feed them for they are hungry.

After a short speech from the monarch the first victim is brought to

the edge of the platform, and placed upright in his basket: the king

then pushes the upper portion of the bound mass, the man falls over

into the crowd in a second, and before the unfortunate wretch has time

to recover from the shock of the fall the head is severed from the

body; and the latter, after having been beaten into a shapeless mass by

the shrieking and frenzied mob, is dragged by the heels to a pit at a

little distance, and there left to be devoured by crows and buzzards.

The number of men sacrificed in public is about fourteen, of whom the

first three or four only are thrown down by the king; but, in addition

to the public sacrifices, a certain number of victims are allotted to

the Amazons, and are put to death by them within the precincts of the

palace, where no man may be present to inquire too inquisitively into

their peculiar rites.

In Dahomey we have none of those wholesale massacres in which hundreds

of human beings are sacrificed, such as occur from time to time in

Ashanti. In the latter country dozens of slaves are immolated at the

death of even a very minor chief, but in Dahomey only one slave is

allowed to be executed at the demise of the person next in authority

to the king himself, and the number annually put to death in the whole

kingdom is said not to exceed eighty.

The following is an instance of how horrors of this kind are

exaggerated. A few years ago England was convulsed with horror at

reading in the daily papers of hetacombs of slaves having been bled

to death in a broad and shallow pit at Abomey, so that the king might

enjoy the novelty of paddling about in a canoe in a sea of blood. What

really occurred was that at the grand custom, which always takes place

at the death of a king, the blood of the victims, about thirty in

number, was collected into shallow pools about three feet square, and

miniature canoes from six to nine inches long were set afloat in them.

The practice of human sacrifices is, however, gradually dying out

in Dahomey; and, year by year, the number of persons sacrificed

becomes smaller and smaller. The walls of the king’s palace, and

those surrounding the residences of some of the principal chiefs, are

generally crowned with human skulls, placed side by side throughout the

entire length. Not many years ago it was considered a sign of poverty

or of great neglect if any of these ghastly ornaments, which had become

destroyed from exposure to wind, sun, and rain, were not at once

replaced by fresh skulls. Now, however, they are suffered to decay, and

no one thinks it necessary to sacrifice a slave in order to keep the

coping of the wall of his yard in good condition.

No doubt the diminution in the number of sacrifices is in a great

measure due to the fact that there are no longer any small independent

tribes on the borders of Dahomey on whom war could be made, and from

whom a constant supply of victims could be obtained. This source was

exhausted in the early part of the present century; and the only people

against whom “slave hunts” can be organized are the Egbas, and these

have usually terminated so unfortunately for the Dahomans that they

seem lately to have lost all taste for the amusement. The persons

now commonly sacrificed at the “Customs” are criminals, and their

crimes would be punished capitally in even far more civilised kingdoms

than that of Dahomey, though scarcely with the same surroundings and

barbarity.

Abbeokuta, the capital of the Egbas, a town with a population of over

fifty thousand, is the usual point of attack of the Dahomans. It is

situated on the left bank of the Ogu river, and is inclosed with

thick mud walls some twenty-five feet high, loop-holed for musketry,

strengthened with flanking bastions, and further protected by a broad

and deep ditch.

The King of Dahomey suffered a rather severe repulse at his attack on

this town in 1851. For some months he had been threatening to destroy

Abbeokuta, being only restrained by the remonstrances of the British

consul; and, though at last diplomacy was found to be of no avail,

the Egbas had benefited by the respite which had been obtained for

them, and had been enabled to prepare for a vigorous defence. The van

of the Dahoman army, consisting of Amazons, arrived at the ford on

the river Ogu on the morning of March 3rd, 1851. The Egbas, who had

received ample intelligence concerning the movements of the Dahomans,

had mustered in force to dispute the passage of the river, and the

Amazons found themselves confronted by a body of some 12,000 or 15,000

men. Forming up in a dense column, they crossed the river with a rush,

cutting the Egba line in two and scattering the enemy like chaff. Had

they then followed up their first success it is probable that they

would have succeeded in entering the town with the rabble of fugitives,

but the male corps of the Dahoman army was some miles behind, having

been out-marched by the Amazons, and the commander of the latter did

not consider it advisable to enter a town containing 50,000 enemies

with a force of but 3,000 disciplined troops. The Amazons consequently

extended beyond the ford and remained halted until the male corps was

close at hand, when they advanced to the attack.

In the meantime every man, woman, and child in the town capable of

holding a musket had crowded to the walls, which were, in the words of

an eye-witness, “black with people, swarming like ants.” The Amazons

advanced across the plain, which was utterly destitute of cover, in a

species of column of companies; and, under a most furious discharge

of musketry, deployed into line; then, after firing rapidly for a few

moments, rushed madly on to the assault. Such a merciless shower of

balls and slugs met them from the walls that, notwithstanding the most

conspicuous gallantry and a wonderful contempt of death, they were

repulsed with considerable loss, and, retiring beyond musket-shot,

formed up in line facing the town. The Egbas did not venture to leave

their fortifications in pursuit.

By this time the male Dahoman army corps had crossed the ford, and,

advancing across the plain, extended to the right of the Amazons, so as

partly to encircle the town, and, if possible, embarrass the defence.

The whole force then advanced within musket-shot, and a furious

discharge took place on both sides. That portion of the plain which

was occupied by the right of the Dahoman attack was still covered with

dried and yellow grass reaching to the waist; the left being bare,

through the grass having been burned some days before. An American

missionary, who chanced to be in Abbeokuta, observing this, directed

those Egbas near him to fire the grass; and, a strong wind blowing at

the time towards the advancing Dahomans, in a few minutes a vast sheet

of flame bore down upon them. To conceive the rapidity with which a

fire will under favourable circumstances sweep across a plain of dried

grass, it is necessary to have witnessed such a sight. The male Dahoman

army corps, finding itself suddenly confronted by a roaring, crackling

pyramid of flame, fairly turned and fled. They had come out to fight,

not to be roasted, and they bolted for their lives. The king, as soon

as he saw the course affairs were taking, hastily recrossed the river

with some 200 followers, leaving orders for the Amazons to cover the

retreat and hold the ford till nightfall.

The victorious Egbas sallied out in thousands, and threw themselves

upon the devoted band of Amazons, who were extended in three lines,

with the flanks drawn back. In this order they kept at bay the whole

Egba force, the first line firing, retiring through the second and

third line, and then forming up again in rear to reload, and the whole

thus retreating slowly upon the river. Arrived at the ford, they formed

up in a compact mass; and, in spite of the repeated furious charges of

the Egbas, held their ground until nightfall, when the enemy drew off

and retired within their walls.

Early next morning the Amazons picked up such of their wounded as the

Egbas had not murdered, and retired in excellent order across the river

to the village of Johaga, about fifteen miles from Abbeokuta, the Egbas

hovering round them during their retrograde movement, but taking care

to keep at a safe distance. At Johaga a sharp skirmish took place,

resulting in the repulse of the Egbas; and from that point the retreat

of the Dahomans was not further molested.

The Dahoman force employed in this expedition consisted of some 3,000

Amazons and 5,000 male Dahomans. The Amazons lost very heavily,

nearly 1,800 dead women-soldiers being counted by the missionaries

of Abbeokuta at the ford and under the walls of the town. The men

being little engaged did not suffer much. The Egbas engaged outside

the town, both before and after the assault, were estimated at over

20,000, and quite 40,000 persons bore arms during the defence of the

fortifications. Very few Dahoman prisoners were taken: the Amazons even

when disarmed refused to surrender, fighting on, and biting their

foes, and were consequently hacked to pieces.

Since this repulse the king of Dahomey has been satisfied with making

mere demonstrations of force in the neighbourhood of Abbeokuta, burning

the outlying villages and destroying the plantations of plantains and

yams, and the fields of corn, without venturing to make any serious

attack upon the town itself. The Egbas had several wall-pieces and

heavy guns engaged during the assault, and these had done so much

execution, badly served as they were, that they at once, through the

medium of the missionaries, had a fresh supply of ordnance sent out

from England. The missionaries also, who were not at all desirous of

seeing their comfortable mission-houses burned and their vocation

destroyed, implored the Government to send discharged gunners from

West India regiments to Abbeokuta; and there was soon a small body of

trained artillerists in readiness for the next assault.

The natural features of Dahomey offer a remarkable contrast to those of

the Gold Coast. In place of the succession of ridges covered with dense

bush and forest, the monotony of which wearies the eye in the latter

country, one finds an open park-like country, nearly flat, and with a

sandy soil bearing clumps of trees, tall grass, and but very little

bush. The banks of streams and the hollows of water-courses are of

course densely wooded, and fine timber-trees are common. The country is

one specially adapted for agriculture, but only a very small portion

of the soil is under cultivation, for the Dahomans, having for years

indulged in the exciting and profitable amusement of “slave-hunting,”

cannot, now that the slave-trade has been suppressed, fall at once

into peaceable pursuits. Palm-oil and ground-nuts are however exported

in considerable quantities from Whydah, and, as soon as legitimate

commerce is found by the Dahomans to be as paying as the illegitimate

bartering of human beings, cotton, sugar, tobacco, and cocoa will in

all probability be grown in sufficient quantities for exportation.

Dahomey does not appear to be rich in minerals. In fact it is probable

that the territory now known by that name was once a vast lagoon,

similar to that of Quittah, only much more extensive, and that the

kingdom now owes its existence to that slow process of upheaval of

which I have already spoken as silting up the lagoons of the Slave

Coast. This theory is partly borne out by an immense and shallow

depression extending from the back of Whydah almost to Abomey, and

reaching its greatest depth about fifty miles from the former town.

At that point there is still a considerable swamp in the bed of the

ancient lagoon, and indications of coal deposits have been there

discovered. Throughout the whole distance between Whydah and Abomey the

shells of fresh-water molluscs, similar to those found at the present

day in the existing lagoons, are found in large quantities a few inches

below the surface of the ground.

To the north of Abomey a geological change takes place. Instead of the

flat sandy expanse, the ground is broken up into valleys and undulating

hills, gradually rising until they merge in the distant Dabadab

Mountains, about forty miles from the capital. Here, as elsewhere in

the hilly countries of West Africa, the soil consists of volcanic mud

or laterite, interspersed with ironstone and granite.

I do not think I have anything more to say about Dahomey except that

Whydah is the habitat of the Whydah bunting (_Emberiza Paradisea_),

the male of which is in the habit of changing its plumage five times a

year, so as to look like a different bird each time. It is sometimes

called the widow bird, and for many years troubled the minds and vexed

the spirits of naturalists.

CHAPTER V.

Lagos--Small Change--A Ball--A Cheerful Companion--An Anomalous

Sight--History of the Settlement--The Naval Attack of 1851.

In the spring of 1880 I found myself at Lagos, a town which has been

called the Liverpool of West Africa, and which, next to Freetown,

Sierra Leone, is the largest and best built in our possessions in that

quarter of the globe. The first breach in the lagoon system occurs

here, where the river Ogu, or Ogun, from Abbeokuta, discharges itself

into the sea; and the bar, on which at high water there is 16 feet of

water, is crossed by small steamers, which convey passengers, mails,

and cargo to and from the mail-steamers lying outside. The island

of Lagos is about four miles in length, and averages half a mile in

breadth. The town is situated up the lagoon about three-quarters of a

mile from the bar, and from the water presents quite a business-like

appearance. Numerous wooden piers, alongside which are vessels

discharging and receiving cargo, extend into the lagoon; steamers of

light draught come and go, while on the shore the Marina, or parade,

with its trees and white houses, covers a frontage of some two miles.

The native inhabitants of Lagos and the surrounding country, with

the exception of the Porto Novans, who are pagans, are Mohammedans,

belonging principally to the Yoruba tribe, which appears to be an

offshoot of the Houssa race. They are a quiet, orderly, and industrious

people, and form a pleasing contrast to the idle and insolent,

so-called Christians, of Sierra Leone, and the lazy tribes of the Gold

Coast.

As cowries form the small coinage of the country, and are in universal

use, I thought I might as well obtain a few for small purchases; so,

as soon as I was settled down, I gave my boy a couple of sovereigns

and sent him out to get change. Half-an-hour afterwards, as I was

smoking in the verandah, I saw him coming along the Marina followed by

a procession of some twenty men and women, each of whom carried a small

sack on his, or her, head. The whole crowd turned into the yard, and

disappeared from my view. Presently I heard the trampling of feet and a

rattling sound in my room, and, on going to see what was the matter, I

found it full of natives, with an immense heap of cowries piled up in

the centre of the floor. I thought that I should be ruined, and said to

my boy,

“What’s all this? What do all these people want?”

He replied.

“They’ve brought the cowries, Master.”

“Well! I didn’t tell you to buy £1000 worth--I haven’t brought a bank

in my pocket. Clear it all away except what I gave you the money for.”

He said there was only two pounds worth there.

I never felt so rich in my life: as Dr. Johnson would say, I revelled

in wealth beyond the potentiality of dreams of avarice. A solitary

cowry is not of much value: 20,000 of them are equivalent to twelve

shillings and sixpence, so I had more than 60,000. I told the carriers

to take a few in payment, filled my pockets with some more, and went

out with a light heart to buy up the whole market; taking care,

however, to lock up the place, as I thought that so much unguarded

wealth might be a temptation to the evilly disposed. My boy suggested

that I ought to count my change to see if it was correct; but I decided

not to.

A few days after my arrival there was a ball given by a club which

rejoices in the name of “The Flower of Lagos.” The members of this Club

are all negroes, principally haughty aristocrats from Sierra Leone,

Liberia, and the Gold Coast, and I believe that they do not admit any

of the Mohammedan _canaille_ to membership.

I never was at such an amusing ball in my life, and, as I suppose

such entertainments are given for the purpose of amusement, it may

be considered a most complete success. The gorgeous-coloured satin

waistcoats, the rainbow cravats, and gigantic buttonhole bouquets of

the men, were sufficiently trying to the eyes; but when one turned

towards the softer, one cannot in this case say the fairer, sex, who,

as usual before the ice was broken, sat all together at one end of the

room, I had positively to turn away, and wished for a green shade or

a pair of blue glass spectacles. Scarlet, blue, pink, purple, yellow,

orange, green, white--every known brilliant colour was there, and I had

to follow the example of the other Europeans who were present, and view

this brilliant spectacle through the medium of an inverted tumbler.

The band was that of the Gold Coast Constabulary, and perhaps the less

one says of it the better, unless it is now “the thing” in music to

introduce crushing discords and heart-rending shrieks that are not in

the original score of the composition.

Before the dancing commenced one could walk about and breathe without

any extraordinary discomfort, but after that the _bouquet d’Afrique_

really became quite too, too. I have always held very much the same

opinion about dancing as that expressed by the pacha in Salmagundi, and

I should have liked then to have been seated afar off on some eminence

with a good telescope. It was pitiful to observe the struggles of

the _belles_ to appear cool (these poor creatures cannot, of course,

like their European sisters, use powder, unless indeed, they used

gunpowder or coal-dust), and how at last they gave it up as hopeless,

and used their handkerchiefs energetically. A new Administrator had

arrived at Lagos a few days previously, and he had to open the ball

with the leading Lagos lady. Poor man, he did not seem at all at home,

and was evidently unaccustomed to move in such high society. After the

ceremony was over he kept going about like one dazed, rubbing his hands

together, and bowing and asking what would be the next article. Some

people said that the infliction had been too much for his brain, and

that he was thinking of his earlier days, but I don’t know.

I noticed that the negro gentlemen were scrupulously polite and

dignified, and talked, so to speak, on conversational stilts; the

ladies tried hard to do the same, but the high pressure was too much

for them. One sable beau went up to a charming creature in pink and

yellow, and, bowing by a succession of jerks, said:--

“May I, Miss, enjoy the unparalleled gratification of your hand for the

next polka?”

The giddy young thing replied:--

“Oh I yes, Mr. Smith--I’m orful fond of polking--Good Lard! what a fine

coat you’ve got. I ’spect that cloth cost quite two dollars a yard

now, didn’t it?”

Later on, when the fumes of the gooseberry wine, brandy, and rum began

to mount to the heads of the assembly, a good deal of the veneering

came off the manners and morals, and violent embracings took place in

the more retired spots. Then one or two personal encounters occurred

between jealous swains, while others, under the influence of ardent

spirits, came and tried to pick quarrels with the few Europeans who

were present, so I went away just as the orgie was beginning.

Horses thrive very well at Lagos, and every merchant keeps his

horse and trap; not that there is anywhere much to drive to, except

the Marina, as all the streets through the native town consist of

ankle-deep sand, and the eastern portion of the island, where there

are no houses, is a mere sandbank. The horses are small, being all

of Arab blood, and are brought down from the interior by Mohammedan

traders; they cost from £15 to £30 a-piece. In the matter of horses

and food Lagos has a great advantage over other towns in West Africa.

On the Gold Coast, for instance, one has to live almost entirely on

those particularly nauseating preserved meats, the tins of which may

bear different labels and names, but which all taste alike; for the

country produces nothing but an emaciated fowl; but at Lagos one can

revel in oysters, land-crabs, beef, mutton, and all the luxuries of the

table. In the matter of salubrity, however, Lagos does not appear to

advantage, and its epidemics periodically decimate the white population.