ARCHITECTURE.
CHIEF CHARACTERISTICS OF KAFFIR ARCHITECTURE -- PREVALENCE OF THE
CIRCULAR FORM -- INABILITY OF THE KAFFIR TO DRAW A STRAIGHT LINE --
GENERAL FORM OF THE KAFFIR’S HUT -- THE INCREDULITY OF IGNORANCE
-- METHOD OF HOUSE-BUILDING -- PRECAUTION AGAINST INUNDATION --
FEMALE ARCHITECTS -- MODE OF PLANNING A HUT -- KAFFIR OSTENTATION --
FRAGILITY OF THE HUT -- ANECDOTE OF WARFARE -- THE ENRAGED ELEPHANT,
AND A DOMESTIC TRAGEDY -- HOW THE ROOF IS SUPPORTED -- SMOKE AND SOOT
-- THE HURDLE DOOR -- HOW IT IS MADE -- SCREENS FOR KEEPING OFF THE
WIND -- DECORATIONS OF DINGAN’s HOUSE -- AVERAGE FURNITURE OF THE
KAFFIR HUT -- THE KRAAL, ITS PLAN AND PRINCIPLES OF CONSTRUCTION --
KNOWLEDGE OF FORTIFICATION -- CHIEF OBJECT OF THE KRAAL -- TWO MODES
OF MAKING THE FENCE -- THE ABATTIS AND THE CHEVAUX DE FRISE -- SIZE
OF THE KRAAL -- THE KING’S MILITARY KRAAL OR GARRISON TOWN -- VISIT
TO ONE OF PANDA’S KRAALS -- THE HAREM, ITS INMATES AND ITS GUARDIANS.
The architecture of these tribes is very simple, and, although slightly
variable in different localities, is marked throughout by similar
characteristics. On looking at any specimen of Kaffir architecture,
the spectator is at once struck with one peculiarity, namely, that all
his buildings are circular. It is a remarkable fact that the Kaffir
does not seem to be capable of marking out a straight line, and whether
he builds a hut, or erects a fence, he takes the circle as his guide.
A Kaffir’s attempts to erect a square enclosure, or even to build a
fence in a straight line, are ludicrous failures. With Europeans the
case is different. A settler who desires to build a fence wherein to
enclose his garden, or a stockade within which his house and property
can remain in safety, invariably builds on the rectilinear principle,
and makes the fence in the form of a square. He would feel himself
quite fettered if he were forced to build a circular enclosure, whereas
the Kaffir would be as much at a loss if he were obliged to build a
square edifice. Indeed, though the European could, at the cost of some
trouble, build a circular house, and would make his circle true, the
Kaffir would utterly fail in attempting to make a building of a square
or an oblong form.
One of my friends, who has travelled much among the Kaffir tribes,
and gone among villages whose inhabitants had never seen an European
building, told me that it was hardly possible to make the natives
comprehend the structure of an European house. The very shape of it
puzzled them, and the gable ends and the ridged roof seemed so strange
to them as to be scarcely credible. As to the various stories in a
house, several rooms on a story, and staircases which lead from one
to the other, they flatly declined to believe that anything of the
kind could exist, and thought that their guest was trying to amuse
himself at the expense of their credulity. They did believe in the
possibility of St. Paul’s cathedral, on account of its domed roof,
but they could not be induced to believe in its size. They defended
their position by argument, not merely contenting themselves with
assertions. Their chief argument was derived from the impossibility of
such a building sustaining its own weight. The only building materials
of which they had any experience were the posts and sticks of which
their own houses were made, and the reeds wherewith they were thatched.
Sometimes a very luxurious house-owner would plaster the interior with
mud, producing that peculiar style of architecture which is popularly
called “wattle-and-daub.” They could not comprehend in the least that
stone could be used in building dwelling-houses; and the whole system
of cutting stone into rectangular pieces, and the use of bricks, was
equally beyond their comprehension. Mortar also was an inexplicable
mystery, so that on the whole they decided on discrediting the tales
told them by the white man.
[Illustration: KAFFIRS AT HOME. (See page 70.)]
A Kaffir house (see page 155) looks just like an exaggerated beehive.
It is of precisely the same shape, is made of nearly the same
materials, and has a little arched door, just like the entrance of a
beehive, through which a man can barely creep on his hands and knees.
The structure of these huts is very simple. A circle is drawn of some
fourteen feet in diameter, and around it are stuck a number of long,
flexible sticks. These sticks are then bent over at the top and tied
together, so as to form a framework very like a common wire mousetrap.
A reed thatching is then laid over the sticks, and secured in its place
by parallel lashings. These lashings are made of “monkey-ropes,” or
the creepers that extend their interminable length from tree to tree,
and are found of every size, from a cable to a packthread. They twist
themselves into so rope-like a shape, that many persons have refused to
believe that they have not been artificially made. The rows of lashing
are about eighteen inches apart. In shape, the hut is exactly like the
well-known snow house of the Esquimaux.
As, during the wet season, the rain pours down in torrents, the huts
would be swamped for several months but for the precaution which the
natives take of digging round each hut a trench of some eighteen inches
or two feet in depth, and the same in breadth. This trench is about
six inches from the wall of the hut, and serves to keep the floor
dry. The reader may remember that all European soldiers are taught to
dig a trench round each hut while they are under canvas, the neglect
of this precaution being sure to cause both great inconvenience and
unhealthiness.
The woman generally marks the outline of her hut in a very simple
manner. She takes a number of flexible sticks, and ties them together
firmly with leathern thongs, or the rough and ready string which the
Kaffirs make from rushes by tearing them into strips and rolling them
on the leg with the palm of the hand. Three or even four sticks are
usually joined together, in order to attain sufficient length. She
then pushes one end deeply into the ground, bends the other end over
so as to make an arch, and pushes that into the ground also. This arch
becomes the key to the whole building, settling its height and width.
Another arch is set in the ground at right angles to the former, and
the two are lashed together at the top where they cross, so that a
rough kind of skeleton of the hut is made in a very short time.
On the roof of the hut may sometimes be seen the skulls of oxen.
This ornament is highly characteristic of the Kaffir. The high value
which he sets on his cows is not surpassed by the love of the most
confirmed miser for his gold. But there is another trait of the Kaffir
mind, which is even stronger than avarice, and that is ostentation,
to which his cattle become of secondary consideration. Unwilling
as he is to kill any of the cattle which constitute his wealth, and
which he values scarcely less than his own life, he will, on certain
occasions, slaughter one, and give a feast to his neighbors, who are
sure to praise him in terms suitable to the magnificence--_i. e._ the
quantity--of the banquet. He is nearly certain to be addressed as
Father, and perhaps some of the more enthusiastic, when excited by
beef, beer, and snuff, may actually hail him as Chief. The slaughter of
an ox is therefore a great event in the life of a Kaffir, and is sure
to act as a step toward higher rank. Lest the memory of such an event
should fade away as soon as the banquet has been ended, the proud donor
takes the skull of the slaughtered ox and places it on the roof of his
hut, where it remains as a sign that the owner of the dwelling is a man
of property, and has been able to spare one of his oxen to serve as a
feast for his friends.
The building being now finished, the opening which serves as a door is
cut on one side, its edges guarded with plaited twigs, and the Kaffir
desires no better house. Though it has no window, no chimney, and no
door that deserves the name, he would not exchange it for a palace,
and many instances have been known where Kaffirs who have been taken
to European cities, have travelled much, and been tolerably educated,
have flung off their civilized garments, re-assumed the skin-dress of
their nation, and gone off to live in huts instead of houses. The whole
structure is necessarily very fragile, and the walls cannot endure much
violence. A curious example of their fragility occurred some time ago,
when one chief made a raid upon the village of another. A number of men
had taken refuge in a hut, from which it was not easy to drive them.
Assagais were hurled through the sides of the hut, and did much damage
to the inmates. The survivors tried to save themselves by climbing
up the framework of the hut and clinging to the roof, but the slight
structure could not support their bodies, and by yielding to their
weight betrayed them to the watchful enemies without.
The upper illustration on page 63 represents the interior of an
exceptionally large hut, being, in fact, the principal residence of a
chief. Very few huts have more than four supporting posts. On the left
may be seen two of the large store baskets, in which milk is kept and
made into “amasi,” while just beyond the first basket is a sleeping
mat rolled up and resting against the wall. Some large earthenware
pots, such as are used in cookery, are seen at the farther end of the
hut, and a calabash rests against one of the posts. To the roof are
hung bunches of maize, according to the curious Kaffir custom, which
seems to ignore the fact that every thing on the roof of a hut is soon
blackened with soot, owing to the smoke from the fire. Whether large
or small, all the houses are made on exactly the same principle, and
except for their superior size, and the ox skulls which decorate them,
the houses occupied by chiefs have nothing to distinguish them from
those which are inhabited by their dependants.
Against brute foes the hut is sometimes but a frail protection. On one
occasion an elephant was attracted by a quantity of millet, which was
stored within a fence. He pushed his way through the useless barrier,
and began feeding on the millet. There was a fire in one of the huts,
and the elephant, instead of being scared by it, became angry, knocked
the house to pieces, and walked over the ruins, trampling to death a
woman who was lying asleep. Her husband nearly shared the same fate,
but managed to roll out of the way, and then to escape by creeping
between the legs of the angry elephant.
The roof of the hut is not wholly dependent for support on the flexible
sticks which form its walls, but is held up by a post or two, on the
top of which is laid a cross-beam. This arrangement also permits the
owner of the hut to hang to the beam and posts sundry articles which
he does not wish to be injured by being thrown on the ground, such as
gourds, baskets, assagai-shafts, spoons, and other implements.
Ranged carelessly round the hut are the rude earthenware pots, in
which the Kaffir keeps his beer, his milk, and present stores of
grain. The floor of the hut is always kept scrupulously clean, and is
generally as hard as stone, being made of well-kneaded clay laid very
smoothly, and beaten until it is quite hard. The best clay for this
purpose is obtained from the nests of the white ant, which are beaten
to pieces, then pounded, and then mixed very carefully with water. In
a well-regulated hut, the women are very careful of their floor, and
rub it daily with flat stones, until it is not only smooth, but even
polished.
Just within the entrance is the primitive fireplace. This, like almost
everything which the Kaffir makes, is circular in form, and is made
usually of mud; its only object is to confine the embers within a
limited space.
Cooking is not always carried on in the ordinary house, nor is the fire
kept constantly. In a permanent kraal there are cooking huts erected
for that one special purpose, and not used for any other. They may be
called demi-huts, as their only object is to guard the fire from the
effect of wind. They are circular, like all ordinary huts, but their
walls are only four feet or so in height, and are carefully daubed
with a mixture of clay and cowdung, so as to form a most efficient
protection against the wind. The smoke from the fire is allowed to
escape as it can. Some of it contrives to force its way between
the interstices of the thatch, as may be seen by reference to the
illustration on page 63. Some of it circles around the walls and pours
through the door-way, but the greater part of it settles, in the form
of soot, upon the interior of the hut, blackening everything within it.
When the Kaffirs wish to season the wood of their assagai-shafts or
knobkerries, they stick it into the roof of the house, just above the
fireplace, exactly as bacon is cured in the smoke.
A curious reference to this custom is made in a song composed in honor
of Panda, King of the Zulu tribes. When Dingan murdered his predecessor
Tchaka, he killed other chiefs at the same time, but was persuaded to
leave Panda alive--
“Of the stock of Ndabitza, ramrod of brass,
Survivor alone of all other rods;
Others they broke, _but left this in the soot_,
Thinking to burn it some rainy cold day.”
Reference is here made to the custom of leaving sticks and shafts in
the sooty roof.
At night, the entrance of the hut is closed by a simple door made of
wicker work, and looking much like the closely-woven sheep hurdles
which are used in some parts of England. With the exception that the
Kaffir always sits down at his work, the mode of making these doors is
almost identical with that which is employed by the shepherds in this
country.
The Kaffir begins by choosing some straight and tolerably stout sticks,
and driving them into the ground at regular distances from each other.
These are intended as the supports or framework of the door. He then
takes a quantity of pliant sticks, like the osiers of our basket
makers, and weaves them in and out of the upright stakes, beating them
down continually to make them lie closely together. When the door is
completed, the upright sticks are cut off to the proper length, and it
can then be fitted to the hut. If the reader has any acquaintance with
military affairs, he may remember that gabions are made in precisely
the same manner, except that the upright stakes are placed in a circle,
and not in a straight line. In order to keep the wind from blowing too
freely into their huts, the Kaffirs make screens, which are placed so
as to shelter the entrance. These screens are made of sticks and rushes
such as the door is made of, only of lighter materials, and their
position can be shifted with every change of wind.
Some of the permanent houses are built with a great amount of care,
and occupy at least a month in their construction. In most of them the
interior view is much the same, namely, the domed roof, supported by
four posts placed in the form of a square, with the fireplace exactly
in the centre. The natives will often expend much time and trouble in
decorating their permanent mansions, and Mr. Christie tells me that he
has seen the very posts thickly encrusted with beads. Of course they
soon become blackened by the smoke, but a quick rub of the palm of
the hand brings out the colors anew. One of Dingan’s huts, which was
visited by Retief, the Dutch colonist, was most beautifully built, and
supported by twenty-two pillars, each of which was entirely covered
with beads.
The huts are, from the nature of the material of which they are made,
exceedingly inflammable, and it sometimes happens that if one of the
houses of a village take fire, the whole of them are consumed in
a very short time. Fortunately, they are so easily built that the
inconvenience is not nearly so great as is the case when European
houses are burned. Moreover, the furniture which they contain is so
limited in quantity and so simple in material, that it can be replaced
without much difficulty. A mat or two, a few baskets, a pillow, a
milking pail, one or two rude earthenware pots, and a bundle of
assagais, constitute an amount of property which is not to be found in
every hut.
The huts of the Kaffirs are generally gathered together into little
groups, which are popularly called “kraals.” This is not a Zulu or a
Hottentot word, and is probably a corruption of the word “corral.”
There are two modes of forming a kraal, and the particular mode is
determined by the locality. The Kaffir tribes generally like to place
their kraal on the side of a hill in the vicinity of the bush, in order
that they may obtain plenty of building material. They are, however,
sufficiently acquainted with the principles of fortification to clear
a large space around their dwellings, so that, in case they should be
attacked, the enemy cannot conceal his movements from the defenders.
The first care of a Kaffir is to protect his beloved cows, and for
that purpose a circular space is enclosed with a high fence, made very
strongly. The fence is about six or seven feet in height, and is made
in a simple and very effective manner. The fence which surrounds the
cattle and the huts is mostly made in one of two modes--at all events,
in the more southern part of the country, where timber is exceedingly
plentiful. The tribes on the north of Kaffirland, who live where timber
is comparatively scarce, build their walls of large stones piled on one
another, without any mortar, or even mud, to fill up the interstices.
The southern tribes use nothing but wood, and form the walls by two
different methods. That which is commonly employed is very simple.
A number of trees are felled, and their trunks severed a few feet
below the spot whence the branches spring. A great number of these
tree tops are then arranged in a circle, the severed ends of the stems
being inward, and the branches pointing outward. In fact, the fence is
exactly that species of rapid and effective fortification called, in
military language, an “abattis.” If the branches of a tree are very
large, they can be laid singly on the ground, just as if they were the
entire heads of trees.
In some cases, where the kraal is more carefully built, the fence is
formed of stout poles, which are driven into the ground, in a double
row, some three feet apart, and are then lashed together in such a way
that their tops cross each other. In consequence of this arrangement,
the fence stands very firmly on its broad basis, while the crossing and
projecting tops of the poles form a _chevaux de frise_ as effectual as
any that is made by the European soldier. If the enemy try to climb the
fence, they can be wounded by spears thrust at them from the interior;
and if they succeed in reaching the top, the sharp tips of the poles
are ready to embarrass them.
The entrance to this enclosure is just wide enough to allow a cow to
pass; and in some places, where the neighborhood is insecure, it is
so narrow that there hardly seems to be space enough for the cattle
to pass in and out. Each night it is carefully closed with poles and
sticks, which are kept just within the entrance, so as to be ready
to hand when wanted. Opposite to the entrance, and at the further
extremity, a small enclosure, also with circular walls, is built. In
this pen the larger calves are kept, the younger being inmates of
the huts, together with the human inhabitants. By the side of this
enclosure a little gap is left in the fence, just large enough for a
man to squeeze himself through, and not large enough to allow even a
calf to pass. This little aperture is the chief’s private door, and
intended for the purpose of saving time, as otherwise, if the chief
were inspecting his cattle, and wished to go to his own hut, he would
be obliged to walk all round the fence. The Zulu name for the space
within this fence is “isi-baya.”
Around the isi-baya are set the huts which constitute the kraal. Their
number is exceedingly variable, but the general average is from ten
to fourteen. Those which are placed at either side of the entrance to
the isi-baya are devoted to the servants, while that which is exactly
opposite to it is the habitation of the chief man. There are mostly a
great many kraals belonging to one tribe, and it often happens that
several neighboring kraals are all tenanted by the members of one
family and their dependants. For example, when the son of a chief
attains sufficient consequence to possess several wives and a herd
of cattle, he finds that the paternal kraal is not large enough to
afford to each wife the separate hut to which she is entitled; so he
migrates with his family to a short distance, and there builds a kraal
for himself, sometimes so close to that of his father that he connects
them by means of a short fenced passage. The chief hut may easily be
known, not only by its position, but by its larger dimensions. Some of
the other huts are occupied by married men, some by his wives, some by
his servants; while at least one hut is reserved for the use of the
unmarried men, or “boys,” as they are called.
This is all that is needed to complete a kraal, _i. e._ the circular
isi-baya, and the huts round it. But, in situations where plenty of
wood can be found, the Kaffir architect erects a second fence, which
encloses all the huts, as well as the isi-baya, and has its entrance
in exactly the same position, _i. e._ opposite to the chief’s hut. The
distant view of one of these doubly-fenced kraals, when it happens to
be situated on the slope of a hill, is extremely curious, and would
scarcely give a stranger an idea of a village.
It will be seen in an engraving opposite, that the central portion of
the kraal is given to the isi-baya, and that the Kaffirs devote all
their energies toward preserving their cows, while they seem to look
with comparative indifference on the risk of exposing themselves or
their fragile huts to the inroads of the enemy. As has already been
stated, the size of the kraal varies with the wealth and rank of its
chief man, and, owing to its mode of construction, can be gradually
enlarged as he rises to higher dignities and the possession of more
cattle. In shape, however, and the principle of construction, kraals
are alike, that of the king himself and the newly-made kraal of a
younger son being exactly the same in these respects.
The king’s kraals, however, are of enormous dimensions, and are several
in number. Panda, for example, has one kraal, the central enclosure
of which is nearly a mile in diameter. This enclosure is supposed to
be filled with the monarch’s cows, and is consequently called by the
name of isi-baya. Practically, however, the cattle are kept in smaller
enclosures, arranged along the sides of the isi-baya, where they can be
watched by those who have the charge of them, and whose huts are placed
conveniently for that purpose. The vast central enclosure is used
almost exclusively as a parade ground, where the king can review his
troops, and where they are taught to go through the simple manœuvres
of Kaffir warfare. Here, also, he may be seen in council, the isi-baya
being able, to accommodate an unlimited number of suitors.
Around the isi-baya are arranged the huts of the warriors and their
families, and are placed in four or even five-fold ranks; so that the
kraal almost rises to the dignity of a town, having several thousand
inhabitants, and presenting a singularly imposing appearance when
viewed at a distance. At the upper portion of the kraal, and at the
further end from the principal entrance, are the huts specially erected
for the king, surrounded by the other huts containing his harem. The
whole of this part of the kraal is separated from the remainder by
lofty and strong fences, and its doors are kept by sentinels especially
set aside for this purpose. In some cases, the warriors to whom this
important duty is confided are not permitted to wear clothes of any
kind, and are compelled to pass the whole of the time, day and night,
when on guard, without even a kaross to cover them. This rule lies
rather heavily upon them in the winter nights, when the cold is often
severe, and the wind sweeps chillily around the fence of the isi-baya.
However, the young ladies will sometimes contrive to evade the
vigilance of the sentries, when their attention is otherwise engaged,
as is amusingly shown in a few remarks by Mr. Angas. He had gone by
Panda’s invitation to see him at one of his great kraals:--“Last night
we slept at the new military kraal, or garrison town, of Indabakaumbi,
whither the king had sent word by message that he would be waiting to
receive us. The Inkosikasi, or queen, of the kraal sent us a small
quantity of thick milk and a jar of millet, and soon afterward made her
appearance, holding two of the king’s children by the hand, for whom
she requested a present of beads. The children were remarkably pretty,
nicely oiled, and tastefully decorated with girdles of blue and scarlet
beads. The old lady, on the contrary, was so alarmingly stout, that it
seemed almost impossible for her to walk; and that it required some
considerable time for her to regain the harem at the upper end of the
kraal was made manifest by some fifty of the king’s girls effecting
their escape from the rear of the seraglio, and sallying down the slope
to stare at us as we rode away from the kraal. The agility of the young
ladies, as they sprang from rock to rock, convinced us that they would
be all quietly sitting in the harem, as though nothing had happened,
long before the Inkosikasi gained her dwelling.”
At that time Panda had thirteen of these great military kraals,
each serving as the military capital of a district, and he had just
completed a fourteenth. He takes up his residence in these kraals
successively, and finds in each everything that he can possibly
want--each being, indeed, almost identical in every respect with all
the others. As a general rule, each of these military kraals forms the
residence of a single regiment; while the king has many others, which
are devoted to more peaceful objects.
[Illustration: (1.) INTERIOR OF KAFFIR HUT. (See page 59.)]
[Illustration: (2.) KAFFIR KRAAL. (See page 62.)]
It has already been mentioned that the women live in a portion
separated from the rest of the kraal, and it may almost be said that
they reside in a small supplementary kraal, which communicates by gates
with the chief edifice. As the gates are strongly barred at night, it
is necessary that the sentinel should enter the sacred precincts of the
harem, for the purpose of closing them at night, and opening them in
the morning. For this purpose, certain individuals of the sentinels are
told off, and to them alone is the delicate duty confided. The Kaffir
despot does not employ for this purpose the unfortunate individuals who
guard the harems in Turkey, Persia, and even in Western Africa. But the
king takes care to select men who are particularly ill-favored; and
if any of them should happen to be deformed, he is sure to be chosen
as a janitor. Mr. Shooter’s servant, when talking with his master on
the subject, mentioned several individuals who would make excellent
janitors. One of them had a club-foot, another had a very protuberant
chest, while a third had bad eyes, and was altogether so ugly that he
would never succeed in procuring a wife. The matrimonial adventures of
this man will be narrated in a future page. His uniform failures in
procuring a legitimate wife were exceedingly ludicrous and mortifying,
and quite justified the opinion expressed by his companion.