THE SIN-KWAIN,[150] OR WATER-SPRINKLING CUSTOM.
This ceremony follows closely upon the So-sin, or Horse-tie rites. All
the Dahoman kings are interred, I have said, in the palace of Agbome,
where their graves are in different buildings. The King, however, must
repair to the several abodes of his ancestors in the order of their
succession, and he usually sleeps five to eight nights in each house.
The ghosts of the old kings are induced to lend their aid in present
wars by their tombs being sprinkled with water; which in Dahome means,
of course, blood, and that blood, human.
On January 9th, 1863, the King, after “giving water to his father” in
the Komasi Palace, passed about nightfall with loud singing, drumming,
and firing, to the gate of Aho, in the Agbome House. This monarch, the
Adahoonzou I. of our histories, is the second of the list, being the son
of Dako (Tacoodonou), the Romulus of Dahome. Yet he is preferred before
his sire in all rites and ceremonies, Dako being looked upon as a mere
captain, Aho as the founder of the capital, and the originator of the
gong-gong beaters, or heralds. There is a legend that he made during his
father’s life a public assertion of royal dignity, by committing the
offence which Ahitophel prescribed to Absolom.[151]
On the present occasion the King was hurried; during this moon of the
last year he had set out on his campaign; he therefore passed, after the
second day, to the old Dahoman palace, where the same pious rites were
performed for Dako (Tacoodonou), and Akaba (Weebaigah), the third king.
Wishing to see the ceremony, which is not usually shown to strangers, I
spoke to the Buko-no, who sent a message to summon us at 2 P.M. We were
accompanied by Mr. Dawson, the ex-missionary. Having once been detained
eighty-five days at Agbome by the present King, who is worse than his
father,[152] he had sent so many excuses to the royal invitation, which
here are commands, that all expected to see him brought up by force.
Setting out from the north-western corner of the Agbome Palace, along
the broad road which surrounds it, we met at that hot hour few of the
bell-ringing she-slaves that usually infest the thoroughfare. It led us
to the north side of the royal enceinte, which is upwards of a
geographical mile in circumference; here a rough fence of palm-mats and
a humble entrance denoted the place where a clay wall and a barn gate
would be built, and called after Zoindi, the King’s mother. After
passing another mean entrance, we came to that of Senunmé, mother of
Agongoro, the usual sloping shed backed by the swish wall, which here
became continuous. A few paces beyond it was the Porte of Agontimé,
mother of Gezo, distinguished by a perpendicular line of ten skulls set
in the outer face of the wall, and four horizontally disposed in its
depth at right angles to the door, to which a single cranium was nailed.
This gate opens to the north-west, upon a cleared space, with fine
sward, dotted with thick-shaded trees; on both sides of the entrance are
figs, and beyond this “Green Park” rises a clump of dirty mat huts—the
Ajyahi market. Here, on alternate years, the Human Sacrifices of the
Platforms are performed by the King, who throws to his subjects cloths
and cowries, captives and criminals. Two stages are erected for this
tragedy, one, the Akhosu Atto, or King’s Platform, due north of the
gate; the other Addo-kpon, or the Bush King’s stage, rises a little to
the west of where the market sheds now stand, clustering round a
gigantic and obscene clay image of the Bo-god. At the north-eastern
extremity of the green stands a national trophy, a large heap of granite
stones, brought, one by each soldier, from the hill fort of Kenglo,[153]
when “Ho-ho”—Mr. Duncan—was insulted, and which Gezo, his host, razed to
the ground. Further lies Abiji, the Potter’s Field of Dahome, where
thick smoke may often be seen in the morning.
Beyond the Ajyahi market, the Green Park, and the Potteries, are two
gates, bearing the name of Chai, mother of Tegbwesun (Bossa Ahadi), and
near it a small entrance where pots made in the palace are exposed for
sale. Ceramics are here in the same condition as Palissy found them
three centuries ago throughout Europe. The material, clay, glittering
with mica, is brought by women from a neighbouring water called Diddo,
and is hand-made; the wheel, as usual in Africa, is unknown to the
skilful Zen-men-to,[154] who are not, however, confined to the palace.
The smaller fictile wares fetch seven to fifteen strings, the larger
water-jars half a head, or one shilling each, and the price rises high
at Whydah. They are under-baked, and of unequal thickness, therefore of
extreme fragility, and the roads are strewed with their débris.
Near the palace-potteries houses crowd upon the outside wall, which has
another gate; from this the royal women go forth to fetch wood and
water: it is also provided with two exterior sheds, under which men
shelter themselves when waiting. The seventh entrance has a large barn,
called after Ahwanjile, mother of Sinmenkpen (Adahoonzou II.), and
beyond it at the north-eastern corner of the enceinte is that of Addono,
mother of Agaja the Conqueror, fronted by a fetish shed, resting upon
two mud columns, chequered with whitewash and grey-black.
Here we turned off to the left,[155] where a very torn and tattered
swish wall showed us that we were at the Dahome Palace, the cradle of
the royal family. Opposite the entrance was a small open space, and
behind us on to the south was the palace of the Min-gan, who, like the
Meu, has the charge of victims and state prisoners. From where our
chairs were placed, little was to be seen,—two humble thatch roofs, and
a pair of silver or plated imitations of birds, peering above the old
enceinte; sounds were heard inside, and at times we were passed by men
beating together solid bars of iron and blowing through the four-holed
flageolets, here called Pwete.[156] After sending in vain sundry
messages to the King, we became wearied of the _séance_, and returned
home to make a serious “palaver” with the “landlord.” His excuse was
that the sovereign had been pronouncing a long speech, which could not
be interrupted. I imagine that Gelele does not wish strangers to see the
nakedness of his old palaces, or the thinness of the company in them
assembled. Perhaps the presence of the victims may have something to do
with the exclusiveness.
The following is an account of the “Water-sprinkling” rites, given to me
by an eye-witness. The victims on each occasion are said not to exceed
two, and I have heard of the King judging one hundred and sixty, and
dismissing all without capital punishment. The tomb is approached with
animals of all sorts, from a bullock to a pigeon, with water, rum, kola
nuts, and many minor things. Whilst the ministers and captains are, like
the King, on all fours, the Dahoman form of kneeling, before the tomb, a
Tansi-no priestess, of blood-royal, offers up to the Ghost a prayer for
its living descendant’s long life and prosperity, and all of the
ancestral shades are invoked at each palace. She then pours water and
rum upon the grave, which is afterwards sprinkled with the blood of men
and beasts, then and there killed. The non-human meat is finally
dressed, and a “tavo,” or table, is “spread,” the stool of the deceased
being placed upon it as an emblem of his presence, and meat and drink
are strewed upon the mats around it. This part ends with a general
distribution of the provisions—the royal portions being sent inside the
palace. Mr. Bernasko described the ceremony, which he was permitted to
see, as follows: An enclosure of cloth surrounded the stool, or some
similar relic of the departed; a Tansi-no woman entered within it and
prayed; and lastly, the King, after performing his orisons, sprinkled on
the ground, to the right of the throne, rum, water, and native beer. It
is said by some that the monarch drinks a glass of blood at the Dahome
Palace, but this sensational report is highly improbable.
On January 14th, Gelele proceeded to the Agrin-go-men House, and watered
the grave of the great Agaja Dosu, who received a pair of victims. The
next day saw him at the palace of the King Tegbwesun (Bossa Ahadi),
outside the western walls of Agbome, in a place called Adan-do-’kpo-ji
Daho.[157] He then removed to the Lisehunzo[158] or House of Sinmenkpen
(Adahoonzou II.), which lies north of its neighbour, and separated by
fields which abound in partridges. Both are approached by a poor gate in
the city enceinte, called Sikpo. During the firing which accompanied
these pilgrimages, several accidents occurred. On the evening of the
16th, the King returned to Bwe-kon, a kind of village, near the Komasi
Palace, where there is a Kwe-gbo, or old and bush-grown enceinte,
belonging to Agongoro (Wheenoohew), his grandfather. About midnight a
servant of the Matro, whose left hand had been shattered by the bursting
of the musket, awoke us with loud and piteous cries of Ye-e-e-gé[159]!
Dr. Haran had treated an Amazon for the same accident, and Mr.
Cruikshank had excised a tumour from the forehead of another soldieress;
neither of these had uttered a groan. The King showed as much anxiety
for the man’s hurt as if he had been a caboceer. The wrist bones being
shattered, and the thumb hanging by a strip of flesh, Mr. Cruikshank
proposed an amputation. Having ascertained that we had no chloroform,
and determined that without such medicine so terrible an operation could
never be endured by man, the King refused his consent, and the Buko-no
removed the thumb and dressed the wound after his own fashion. This
piece of conservative surgery was by no means successful, the man dying,
probably of suppuration, a few days afterwards. Finally, on January
19th, the King returned with great noise and tumult to his father’s
palace of Komasi; and so ended the “water-sprinkling” custom of 1864.
At the risk of repetition, I must again refer to a curious fixed idea in
England, absonant withal, touching human sacrifice at Dahome. It is no
mere lust of blood nor delight in torture and death that underlies the
rite in these lands. The King has to perform a disagreeable task over
his ancestral graves, and he does it; his subjects would deem it impious
were he to curtail or to omit the performance, and suddenly to suppress
it would be as if a European monarch were forcibly to abolish prayers
for the dead.
[Footnote 150: Sin (water), kwain (sprinkling). This is generally called
giving water to the spirits of ancestors, and Commander Forbes writes
the word, See-que-’ah-hee (_passim_).]
[Footnote 151: Josephus (lib. 7, chap. 10).]
[Footnote 152: The captivity of a visitor at Agbome is complete.
Europeans usually begin to talk of leaving on the day of their arrival
at the capital, or the people will be persuaded that the whites desire
to remain.]
[Footnote 153: Or Kengro, the Koglo of Mr. Duncan (vol. ii. chap. 3).
Ho-ho means a tall man.]
[Footnote 154: Zen (pot), men (person, or making?), to (one that does).]
[Footnote 155: Passing Addono’s Gate to the right we find a deep angle
in the palace wall, where water is poured out to King Aho (Adahoonzou
I.), at an entrance called Patin sa, “near the Patin-tree.” Beyond it an
avenue of pollarded trees, leading to nothing, encloses a long and large
ridge, such as were turned up by the hoe in the good old times: it is
still kept as a model. Further eastward, and going under the usual “Vo”
gallows with a central mat, we come to the Han-ho-nukun-ji Gate, where
Agaja the Conqueror’s palace begins. The next building of any importance
in the enceinte is the Agrigomen Gate, which, like the whole of the
southern and south-western side, has been described in chap. x.]
[Footnote 156: The word is a corruption of the Fanti “ketí.” It is an
artless reed, open at both ends, with a little notch in the mouth-piece,
which is scraped thin to divide the wind. Mr. Dalzel remarks
(Introduction, p. 11) that “the King’s women understand and practise the
combination of the perfect concords, thirds and fifths,” and that their
little airs, played upon the flute and other instruments, are not
inelegant. Dr. Bowditch describes “the soft breathings of the long
flutes” at Ashante as being “truly melodious.” Dr. M‘Leod (p. 96) finds
the _flageolets_ of Dahome very sweet, and in the next page gives the
following sample of an air:—
[Music sheet]]
[Footnote 157: Meaning Adan (brave), do (live), ’kpo (high place), ji
(he stops or lives). Daho is great. Some call it Adan-do-’kpo-ji Khe-sa,
from khe (a kind of tree), and sa (under).]
[Footnote 158: Lise (a tree before described), and hun-zo, a kind of
fetish.]
[Footnote 159: In Fanti, Mewo! or megyá!—“My father!”]