A knowledge of these facts suggests, therefore, that the cotton industry

can be promoted with the greatest chance of success by interesting the

rulers of the country and their councils in the movement; by giving the

chiefs the benefit of expert advice; by enlisting their sympathies and

good-will; by supplying them with cotton seed, implements, and possibly

hand-gins, gratis; and so on. Here at least the necessity of proceeding

on lines of instruction entirely is manifest. The object is to improve

an existing industry, to greatly enlarge and systematise it, _to get the

people of the land interested in it_. If the native can see a profit in

the business, he will take it up. That is morally certain. It has been

so in every branch of West African commerce. So keenly has the native

embraced new trade outlets offered to him that upon occasion he has, when

uninstructed in the art of production, compromised the future. Absolute

and entire co-operation of officialdom and commerce is essential if the

cotton movement in West Africa is to be attended with success. The

Germans may here serve us as a model to imitate. The home Government,

the local Government; the forces of industry and commerce in Germany,

and in the particular Colony where the experiments are being made, have

vied with one another in the effort to achieve an aim of common interest

to all. Centres of instruction have been established in the Colony;

model farms have been created; Negro farmers from the States have been

brought over through the instrumentality of Mr. Booker T. Washington, the

distinguished Negro scholar and manager of the Tuskegee Institute.[166]

In all these matters the official world has worked hand in glove with the

commercial world.

It is equally important that the cotton associations and merchants should

be in earnest. No mere pecking will suffice. Disappointments and delays

must be discounted in advance. There are sure to be plenty of both.

Ginning and compressing machinery must be set up either on the coast,

or, if it be decided to try Lagos, at large centres such as Ibadan and

Abbeokuta; and preferably what is known as the “American round lap,”

which ensures simultaneous ginning and compressing in 250 lb. round

bales, instead of the more cumbrous and more expensive separate ginning

and compressing machines, which produce the 500 lb. square bale. In

short, the movement must be engineered, from the beginning, on a real

scientific basis. If Togoland with its transport difficulties has been

able in the first year’s experience to export 70,000 decimal pounds of

cotton, what may not be achieved by those of our West African Colonies

where transport facilities exist; where the population is at least as

dense if not denser; and where British subjects have been in contact with

the natives for periods ranging from fifty to one hundred years?

I cannot leave this subject without referring to the indirect relation

it bears to the Negro problem in the States. At present all is vague

and uncertain. We cannot tell what may be the outcome of the movement;

but if it be a success, what vistas does it not open up for the future!

We have seen how the Germans have invited the co-operation of American

Negro cotton farmers. The few who have gone out—the German reports assure

us—have elected to remain. More, it is announced, are to follow. What

would the attitude of the American Government be in the face of a steady

flow of emigration on the part of the coloured population of the Southern

States, to help to build up in its country of origin what it has built up

in America? In what light would the Americans regard the up-springing of

a great cotton industry in West Africa? If, as events seem to indicate,

America is likely to become on an ever-increasing scale the principal

consumer of her own raw cotton, would such an occurrence be viewed with

equanimity by the American public? Or if not with actual equanimity,

with at least the feeling that the danger, presuming it to be one, might

be cheerfully faced if a deeper peril could thereby be diminished, and

in time perhaps altogether removed? Could white labour in the American

cotton plantations, with the exception of the more swampy and malarial

regions, be substituted for Negro labour, in the event of appreciable

emigration? These are questions for American statesmen and thinkers

to answer. If American intelligence can perceive in these tentative

suggestions a clue, be it ever so faint now, of future potentialities,

a clue worth following up and investigating, let America remember that

a million square miles of African territory, which was declared in 1884

internationally free commercial land, and in the consolidation of which

under its present _régime_ America is to a large degree responsible, is

in the grip to-day of a band of greedy monopolists in whose bowels reside

no scruples, no pity, no humanity; who are sowing red ruin wherever their

influence can be asserted. If America ever seriously turns her attention

to West Africa as a solution of the greatest problem of her internal

politics, let her cast her eyes upon the Congo State, misnamed Free—the

abode of cruelty and persecution, of slavery and reaction.

CHAPTER XXI

THE MAHOGANY TRADE

“The traveller who wanders through the dim recesses of the

tropical forest of Western Africa soon feels the sense of

its beauty lost in that of its mournful grandeur, and there

steals over him a profound feeling of solitude and a deep

consciousness of the solemnity, majesty, and utter loneliness

of this great, gloomy wilderness.”—Dr. AUSTIN FREEMAN.

The great forest region of Africa is one of the wonders of the world.

It is a moot point whether Africa should be described as possessing two

forest belts or only one. Roughly speaking, the forest region takes the

form of an inverted hatchet or axe, with French Congo, the Congo Free

State, and a portion of the Great Lakes districts as the blade; while

the West Coast, from Sierra Leone downwards, provides the handle. There

are gaps here and there; in the Cameroon hinterland; among the mangrove

swamps of the Niger Delta, and behind Lagos on the Niger side. The

forest is densest in the Upper Congo, where Stanley, we know, struggled

in it for many weary weeks, as though held in the grip of some hideous

nightmare from which there was no escape.

In this natural hot-house, always bathed in an atmosphere of humidity and

steam, vegetation flourishes in the wildest profusion and exuberance, and

with the widest diversity of size and species, from the mighty _bombax_

to the creeping lichen. So abundant is this luxurious growth, so thick

the canopy formed by the spreading branches and creepers overhead,

that, save here and there, where some giant has fallen and broken down

the surrounding undergrowth, leaving a gap overhead through which the

sunlight penetrates flickeringly, the forest is plunged in eternal

gloom. This gloom and the silence which accompanies it are the two

great characteristics of the African forest. Except for the occasional

chattering of monkeys, the crash of a falling tree, or the far-off

chirrup of birds, who seek the sunlight in the topmost branches, the

silence broods everlastingly. The effect of living amongst this gloom

and silence is most depressing to the European, and it is no matter for

surprise that the terrific solemnity of their environment should have

exercised a profound influence upon the naturally superstitious minds

of the native Africans who dwell therein. It is amongst the dwellers in

the forest region that we find the lowest type of African humanity[167]

and the most sombre developments of African religious conceptions. All

European travellers who have spent some time in this great forest region

have been alike impressed by its grandeur and its melancholy, and their

descriptions bear witness to the way in which their feelings have been

wrought upon by the natural phenomena with which they were surrounded.

It is only within quite recent years that European enterprise has

concerned itself with the potential riches of this vast forest region, or

rather of that portion of it which it is as yet possible to commercially

develop, viz. the belt on the West Coast—or, to refer to the illustration

given above, the handle of the axe. The results already achieved in a

short period of effort, which can hardly be called more than tentative

and unsystematic, are such as to warrant the most sanguine expectations

for the future, when facilities of transport shall have brought the main

portion of the forest region within reach of the European markets. It is

curious to observe how, in its main lines, the trade of Western Africa

has arisen in a succession of well-defined stages. The earliest trade was

in gold-dust, and, so far as we know, confined to gold-dust, unless the

gorilla (or more probably the chimpanzee) skins brought home by Hanno

be counted as trade—which would be a somewhat humorous classification.

Then ensued a long period of absolute neglect of West Africa by civilised

man. When once more the latter turned his attention to that part of the

world, gold was again the principal item of trade, accompanied by ivory,

and later on by slaves—the later a monstrous evil, whose Nemesis is

to-day making itself felt in the United States. The gold trade died out,

the ivory trade languished, and the gum, palm oil and kernel trades came

into existence, to be followed by the rubber trade, and lastly by the

timber trade—principally confined to mahogany. On the principle of _plus

ça change, plus c’est la même chose_, the gold industry is now again

reviving, although on very different lines from the old barter system.

That is, of course, a general statement. There have been, now and then,

exceptions to prove the rule, and so far as timber is concerned, a not

inconsiderable business was carried on in the Gambia and Sierra Leone

some fifty years ago.

[Illustration: FELLING A MAHOGANY-TREE]

[Illustration: SQUARING THE TREE]

Sir Alfred Moloney, however, was able to write in 1887 that, after having

made many inquiries, such timber trade as had previously existed “may

be said to have altogether ceased or to have sunk into the export done

in dye-woods and ebony.” The following tabulated statement shows how

insignificant was the timber trade in West Africa between the years 1878

and 1885:

WOOD AND TIMBER EXPORTS FROM WESTERN AFRICA, 1878 TO 1885.

Year. Articles. Countries whence imported. Quantity. Value.

Tons. £

1878 Wood and timber From the West of Africa, Nil. Nil.

unenumerated not particularly designated

1879 ” ” ” ”

1880 ” ” 1733 14,892

1881 ” ” No mention.

1882 ” ” 1458 10,750

1883 ” ” 1441 11,100

1884 ” ” 1395 9,980

1885 ” ” 1181 9,565

In 1889 the total import of African mahogany was only 68,000 feet, and

in 1890—or a little over ten years ago—it did not amount to more than

259,000 feet. To-day the mahogany trade has grown to be one of the most

important branches of commerce in West Africa. Enormous quantities of

logs are shipped home from the Gold Coast, Lagos and the Ivory Coast, and

the mahogany exports from the Niger Coast Protectorate,[168] which were

started in August, 1899, produced 23,983 superficial feet in the year

1899-1900.

The industry is carried on by two categories of shippers, viz. the

European merchant established on the coast, who either employs native

labour to cut down his own trees, or who buys timber direct from the

native; and the native merchant who ships home on commission. The chief

centres of the mahogany trade on the coast are: for the Gold Coast—Axim,

Twin Rivers, Sekondi and Chama; for the Ivory Coast—Assinie, Half

Assinie, Lahou and Grand Bassam; for Southern Nigeria—Benin and Sapelli.

Lagos timber is carried round to Forcados in branch boats, and there

shipped on the homeward-bound steamers. The South Coast mahogany trade

is chiefly confined to Botica Point, Gaboon, Eloby and Mayumba, although

a few logs have been sent home in the steamers of the Cie Belge Maritime

du Congo, from near Boma in the Congo Free State. The South Coast timber

trade appears to be dying out, owing chiefly to the pale colour of the

wood, which does not now commend itself to buyers.[169] The vast forests

of the Upper Congo cannot, with advantage or profit, be tapped until

the Congo Railway Company lowers its preposterous rates, and until the

administration of the country is in other hands than the monopolist

clique which controls it.

[Illustration: DRAGGING THE SQUARED LOG THROUGH THE BUSH]

[Illustration: SAPELLI, SOUTHERN NIGERIA’S PRINCIPAL TIMBER PORT]

It may be interesting to give the actual exports of timber from the Gold

Coast and Lagos from 1895 to 1899, showing the wonderful strides which

have taken place. The Gold Coast, it may be stated, has a total forest

area of 12,000 square miles.

EXPORTS FROM THE GOLD COAST.

Year. Value.

1895 £28,245

1896 52,234

1897 90,509

1898 110,331

1899 87,076

EXPORTS FROM LAGOS.

Year. Value.

1895 Nil.

1896 £275

1897 8,271

1898 12,944

1899 34,737

Liverpool, Havre, Hamburg, Marseilles and Bordeaux absorb nine-tenths of

the exports of mahogany from Africa, but a certain proportion finds its

way from those ports to the United States.[170] Of the ports mentioned,

Liverpool holds far and away the first place. The statistics of Liverpool

imports from 1889 to 1900 inclusive will be found in the Appendix.

In view of the evidence given of the phenomenal increase of the mahogany

trade, it seems almost incongruous to say that the existing condition

and the future prospects of the trade have, for some months past, been

causing much apprehension in West African commercial circles. The truth

is that the growth of the trade has been checked, and for the last twelve

months has even been showing signs of decay. There was a decreased

export in 1901 of over 11,000 tons, and the figures for the first six

months of the present year show a further decline, although prices have

considerably advanced and the demand for good logs exceeds the supply.

It is a fact recognised by all the interested parties that the export

of mahogany from West Africa has received a serious check. What are the

reasons? They differentiate with the localities. In the Gold Coast the

falling off which has occurred is due, in the first place, to labour

being attracted from the timber to the gold-mining industry, and to the

needs of railway construction. Many thousands of natives have thus been

drawn away from timber-felling to work on the railway; for the mines, or

as carriers for the various prospecting expeditions into the interior.

A second contributory cause has been the necessarily trade-disturbing

element of warfare, otherwise stated, the Ashanti War, in the shape of

the general unrest and disorganisation brought about by the excessive

demands for carriers, &c. In the Ivory Coast, prospecting expeditions

have also affected the output. As far as Lagos is concerned, the remarks

of the Governor in the last report of that Colony for last year afford

the requisite explanation.[171]

The freight question is undoubtedly held to militate against the

development of the timber industry, and it had been freely prophesied

that the effect would begin to make itself felt last year. How much the

decline was due on the whole to high freights, and how much to other

causes mentioned, it would be difficult to say. With the technicalities

of the subject I will not bore my readers. Suffice it to say that the

principal objection which is advanced against the steamship owners,

is the way in which the system known as the “sliding scale” is worked

out. At present logs over two tons pay increased freight, and a further

increase is made upon logs of three tons and upwards. It is urged

that, if the principle of the bigger the log the better the timber

were sound, this would be all right enough; but it so happens that the

average sale price of a one-ton log is much the same as that of a two-,

three- or four-ton log, except when the heavier log is what is termed

a good “figured”[172] log. Figured logs fetch any price, according to

the fancy of the purchaser, and in such cases the question of freight

is a bagatelle. But the vast majority of the logs do not possess these

qualifications, and the increased freight on the heavier logs tells

very heavily against the merchant, and may even go so far, when low

prices prevail on the home market, as to render any profit on the sale

impossible. Of course, the steamship owner has his reply ready; and, so

far, he considers it good enough to justify the existing rates.

When all is said and done, the fact remains that the timber trade is

languishing. It would be a thousand pities to allow this to continue,

if it can be avoided. A trade once abandoned or paralysed is not easily

restarted. It is in the interest of all the parties concerned to arrive

at a _modus vivendi_ which shall allow the native who cuts and squares

the wood, the merchant who ships it, and the steamship owner who carries

it, to make a profit. In this as in other respects one would like to see

some systematic measures of instruction adopted, under joint official

and commercial auspices, to show the natives how the best logs can be

selected for felling, which would avoid the sending home of a mass of

worthless and immature timber calculated at times to flood the market and

depreciate prices, while damaging the forests in Africa.

CHAPTER XXII

ISLAM IN WEST AFRICA

The steady and continuous spread of Islam in the western portion of the

Dark Continent is a fact which no one acquainted with the subject will

attempt to deny. It is, indeed, so well established that to specialise

particular instances where it has been observed would be a needless

undertaking. It is everywhere palpable, striking, impressive. It can no

more be disguised or ignored than the concurrent circumstance of relative

failure on the part of Christian missions. While Mohammedanism continues

to gain converts far and wide; to absorb whole tribes; to filter down the

rivers to the ocean; to pierce the forest belt, with hardly a check—save

here and there, as, for example, among the Ibos on the Niger—Christianity

makes no headway in the interior; and even in its confinement to the

coastwise region, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say, some of

the Europeanised towns on the coast, its progress is slow, so slow,

indeed, that well-informed observers are not wanting who believe that it

is losing rather than gaining ground. At any rate, it is not, I venture

to think, an exaggeration to say, Christianity is maintaining itself with

difficulty among heathen communities in West Africa, and beats in vain

against the strong tide of Mohammedanism.[173]

It cannot be without interest to Englishmen whose West African Empire

covers so large an area, and numbers between thirty and forty millions,

to devote careful attention to a subject which is fraught with such

far-reaching importance, and which it is imperially necessary for Great

Britain to take into serious consideration as constituting a factor which

has to be reckoned with and appreciated at its proper value. On that

account it may not be out of place to discuss in a general way the whole

subject of Mohammedanism in West Africa. The problem is a great one, and

although there is no pretence here to more than touch the fringe of it,

even a tentative effort is, perhaps, of interest to the daily increasing

section of the public, which begins, although still but dimly, to realise

the nature and the extent of the responsibilities Great Britain has

undertaken in West Africa.

Rejecting, as, in my opinion, we can do with safety, the legend that

attributes the existence of Mohammedanism in Walata (Biru), the seat

of the Ghanata Empire as early as the sixtieth year of the Hejira, or

about 682 A.D., there is yet good reason to believe that Islam crossed

the Sahara, and became powerful in the Western Sudan, earlier than the

eleventh century A.D., which is the period assigned to that event by the

majority of authorities. We know positively that the fifteenth prince of

the first and Za dynasty of the Songhay, Za Kasai, was converted to Islam

in the year 1000 A.D.[174] From El Bekri we glean that Mohammedanism

had taken such firm root in the Songhay Empire about sixty years after

the conversion of Za Kasai (1067 A.D.) that none but a Muslim could be

king. In the reign of Yusif Ibn Tashfin, the founder of Morocco, 1062

A.D., many Negroes, according to Leo Africanus, became followers of

the Prophet. Barth’s invaluable “Chronological Table of the History of

Bornu” shows us that Islam was introduced into Kanem (and Bornu)[175]

in the reign of Hume, the first of the Muslim rulers of that extensive

Empire (1086-89), and the circumstance that this potentate died in Masr

(Misr)—_i.e._ Egypt, infers that he was either on his way to or from

Mecca.[176] Now it seems inconceivable that Gao or Gogo, the capital

of the Songhay Empire, which was situate on the Niger about 500 miles

in the heart of the country of the Negroes, should have yielded to the

influence of Islamic preachers who came from the north, before the

introduction of that religion in the intervening region comprised between

the southern limits of the Sahara and the Western Sudan. That it should

have struck the Niger, and followed it as providing the swiftest vehicle

of penetration inland before permeating the countries that lay on either

side of the river, is natural enough, and we find indirect confirmation

that it did so in the circumstance that the other great Negro kingdom

contemporary with Songhay, that of Melle or Mali, which had succeeded

Ghanata, only embraced Islam in the person of its king, Baramidana,

in 1213, or about two centuries after the conversion of Za Kasai. It

may therefore, I think, be assumed, without departing from the limits

of inherent probability, that if the existence of mosques in Walata

were relegated to 900 A.D. instead of 682 A.D., the former date would

approximately represent the truth; and that Mohammedan proselytisers

must have been busily at work in the Senegal about that time or a little

later, pushing southwards and eastwards from thence, until they reached

the Niger, and pursuing their course onwards to the most important city

on its banks, Gao; reaching it, as already stated, in the opening years

of the eleventh century,[177] and having met with success, continuing

their triumphal progress to the third great Negro kingdom of West Africa,

Kanem.[178]

The introduction of Islam revolutionised Western Africa. His first

contact with a revealed religion powerfully affected the naturally

intense spiritual nature of the Negro. What was the precise nature of

the religious beliefs entertained by the Songhays, Mandingoes, Fulani,

Hausas and other tribes inhabiting the Upper Senegal and Upper Niger at

the time of the advent of Mohammedanism it is difficult to say. It may

have been the animism which, under its modern appellation, Fetishism,

is met with to-day in its purest form among the true Negroes of the

coastwise swamp and forest regions. Or, as is much more probable, it

may have been a form of pantheism allied with animal worship inherited

from contact, at a remote period, with Egyptian culture; as witness the

_Tarik’s_ description of the original fish-god of the Songhays, believed

by some authorities—and not without reason—to have been the manatee;[179]

the alleged regard of the Mandingoes for the hippopotamus;[180] and the

strong presumptions of an ancient bovine worship among those Fulani who

have remained faithful to their original calling of _bororoji_ (herdsmen)

as distinguished from their more ambitious countrymen of the towns, whom

destiny has fashioned into statesmen, diplomatists and warriors. Whatever

those beliefs may severally have been they were flung aside, and Islam

struck so deep that the Negro became in time not only as zealous, but

upon occasion more zealous than his Semitic teachers. Under the fostering

impulse and care of the new religion, these backward regions, says

Thomson,[181] commenced an upward progress. A new and powerful bond drew

the scattered congeries of tribes together and welded them into powerful

communities. Their moral and spiritual well-being increased by leaps and

bounds, and their political and social life took an altogether higher

level.

“Islamism is in itself stationary, and was framed thus to

remain; sterile like its God, lifeless like its first principle

in all that constitutes life—for life is love, participation

and progress, and of these the Coranic deity has none. It

justly repudiates all change, all development, to borrow

the forcible words of Lord Houghton, the written book is

there the dead man’s hand, stiff and motionless; whatever

savours of vitality is by that alone convicted of heresy and

defection.”[182]

The underlying thought in the above passage is evidently comparative.

The writer is unconsciously drawing a comparison between the two great

revealed religions of the world, Christianity and Islam, as such.

But as we are here concerned merely to treat of the performances of

Islam in West Africa, and of the effect upon the _Negro_, primarily

of Islam, indirectly of Christianity, it can without hesitancy be

asserted that what may be partly true in the description given of

Islam in its relation to mankind as a whole is wholly false as regards

its influence in West Africa. To the _Negro_ the God of Islam is not

sterile: Islam is not lifeless. It is a living force, giving to its

Negro converts, as Mr. Bosworth-Smith says, “an energy, a dignity, and

a self-respect which is all too rarely found in their pagan or their

Christian fellow-countrymen.” Individually and collectively the Negro

has progressed since Islam crossed the desert, and just as to the Negro

fetishist of the forest and the swamp religious conceptions permeate

every act, preside over every undertaking and insinuate themselves in

every incident of his daily existence, so Islam, where it has laid

permanent hold upon the Negro, claims from him an allegiance entire and

complete.

We need not seek for proof of this. It is writ large over West

Africa. Negroes, not by dozens or by scores, but by tens of hundreds,

traverse thousands of miles on foot from the innermost parts of the

Mohammedanised Continent; from Senegal, from the Niger Bend, from Bornu,

from Hausa, from our Coast Colonies of Sierra Leone and Lagos, to perform

the Haj, the sacred journey to Mecca, which every true believer should

accomplish at least once in his life. A clergyman belonging to the

Church Missionary Society, writing from Tripoli,[183] recently spoke

of “a ceaseless stream of Hausa pilgrims continually passing through

Tripoli on the way to Mecca after a wearisome tramp across the desert,”

a significant admission from such a source. This “ceaseless stream” is

not confined to Hausa. It flows from all parts of Western Africa. It has

flowed thus for many centuries, and the volume, far from diminishing,

increases. That is not the sign of sterility. Burton, during his stay in

Mecca, was witness of the extraordinary influence wielded by Islam on the

Negro mind. The case, as he remarks, was not an exceptional one.

“Late in the evening,” he says, “I saw a negro in the

state called Malbus—religious frenzy. To all appearance a

Takruri,[184] he was a fine and powerful man, as the numbers

required to hold him testified. He threw his arms wildly about

him, uttering shrill cries, which sounded like _le le le le_,

and, when held, he swayed his body and waved his head from side

to side like a chained and furious elephant, straining out the

deepest groans. The Africans appear unusually subject to this

nervous state, which, seen by the ignorant and the imaginative,

would at once suggest ‘demoniacal possession.’ Either their

organisation is more impressionable or, more probably, the

hardships, privations, and fatigues endured whilst wearily

traversing inhospitable wilds and perilous seas have exalted

their imaginations to a pitch bordering upon frenzy. Often they

are seen prostrate on the pavement, or clinging to the curtain,

or rubbing their foreheads upon the stones, weeping bitterly,

and pouring forth the wildest ejaculations.”

Dr. Blyden, speaking of the native Moslems of Sierra Leone, has said,

“Wherever they go, they take the Koran with them. In a wreck or a fire,

if nothing else is saved, that book is generally rescued. They prize and

honour it with extreme reverence and devotion.... I have known them to

pay as high as five pounds sterling for a Manuscript Koran and think it

cheap.” One might fill a volume in giving concrete instances, as well as

general statements founded upon the personal observations of travellers

in all parts of Western Africa, to prove the inapplicability as concerns

West Africa of Palgrave’s passage quoted above, a passage which I have

specially chosen because it represents, unfortunately, what may be called

“home opinion” on the subject.

It can, no doubt, be said with truth, that the majority of West African

Mohammedans cannot read Arabic, and that a large proportion of them

only know the ordinances of the Koran by hearsay; but this, far from

being an argument against the influence of Islam in West Africa, is but

an added proof of the grip which Islamic thought has attained over the

African mind, and of its having supplied the Negro—not through specific

rules, regulations and ordinances, but in its main conception—with

something which he required both in a spiritual and material sense. It

is, moreover, advisable to accept with caution the general statements

attributing wholesale ignorance of letters to Muslims in West Africa.

Blyden gives a long list of works which he observed in a Mallam’s house

in the Sierra Leone hinterland. The _Tarik_ tells us that, not long

after the introduction of Islam in West Africa, many Negroes rivalled

their Semitic or Berber teachers in knowledge and erudition. Barth met

in the wildest parts of Adamawa a Fulani from far-off Massina carrying

a considerable number of Arabic books as _trade_. Many other instances

could be given.

Islam in West Africa is, indeed, a living force and a most powerful

agency “everywhere knitting the conquerors and the conquered into an

harmonious whole,”[185] and Englishmen must regard it as such. It

confronts them more particularly in its political aspect in Northern

Nigeria; and in Sierra Leone, the Gambia, the Gold Coast, Lagos, and to

a much lesser degree, in Southern Nigeria, in its social aspect. People

in England appear strangely unacquainted with these facts. West African

Mohammedanism is presented to them in distorted shape by those who

have interest in so doing, and to whom the public ear is more readily

accessible. But the local authorities in the West African Colonies

realise the state of affairs; and what is more, are rapidly coming to

the conclusion that the Mohammedan section of the community is not only

the most orderly and the most progressive, but necessitates, both as a

matter of duty and of policy, recognition on the part of the Government.

Within the last few years Mohammedan schools have been established with

official sanction and support in all our Colonies; a mosque built by the

late Shitta Bey has been opened at Lagos[186] by the (then) Governor in

person, and in Sierra Leone a Director of Mohammedan Education has been

especially appointed at a fixed salary per annum.

As with Great Britain, so with France, but to a very much greater

degree. France’s African Empire is almost wholly an Islamic one, and

confining ourselves to that part of it which is properly West African,

the overwhelming majority of the inhabitants are Muslims. With the

exception of a small section of Bobos, Diakankes and Bambarras, a larger

but declining section of the Malinkes and a few wandering Fulani in

the more remote districts of Barani, Fuladugu, Bobo-Dialassu, &c., the

whole of the Western Sudan is more or less Muslimised. In the north

of her colony of Guinea, France has the large Muslim Fulani State of

Futa-Jallon; in Senegal, Mohammedanism has spread right down to the

ocean; in the Chad region, in Baghirmi and a considerable distance up

the Shari, Islam has flourished for at least four centuries, and through

Fulani cattle-rearers and Hausa traders, the tenets of the Prophet are

being propagated as far south as the Shari, Sangha and Ubanghi. The

French have established numerous schools at which the sons of Mohammedan

chiefs receive instruction on Western lines. Among such schools may be

mentioned those of Kayes and Medina. Special instructors appointed by

the French Government teach Arabic side by side with French, and every

effort is made by France to secure Muslim co-operation on lines of

Western thought in the great work which she has taken in hand. The French

African Committee go so far as to print a special bulletin in Arabic,

which, together with the Arabic newspaper _al Mobacher_, published in

Algeria, is distributed gratuitously to a large number of influential

Mohammedans throughout the Western Sudan, especially in such centres as

Jenne, Timbuctoo, Nioro and Sokolo. Needless to say these publications

are largely composed of laudatory articles calculated to inspire their

readers with the justice, generosity, and liberty of French political

conceptions. The French seem to be adopting in this, as in many other

respects in West Africa, a very enlightened attitude. At the Kayes

school, for instance, they have appointed a special teacher from Algeria

to superintend instruction in the Arabic tongue.[187] Moreover, in

order to make clear to the Muslim population that their sons can attend

the Government schools without fear of having to listen to teaching

conceived in a spirit of hostility or criticism towards Islam, the

French authorities not only permit but encourage the presence during

class time of the Muslim schoolmasters themselves, thus removing the

natural suspicion of Muslim parents, and at the same time making allies

of the “marabouts.” This line of conduct, it may be added, is especially

embodied in the instructions given to all District Commissioners.

How comes it that Islam has succeeded with the West African Negro when

Christianity has fared so badly? Islam has marched from triumph to

triumph among the Negroes, but of the greatest effort ever put forward

by the Christian Church in West Africa, that by the Portuguese in the

Congo in the sixteenth century, there remains little or no trace, and the

results of more widespread but less consistent (because rent by internal

differences) efforts of to-day cannot be termed otherwise than profoundly

discouraging, when one considers the lives expended in a fruitless task;

pitifully sterile, when one is aware of the large sums that have been,

and continue to be, spent in the attempt. It would seem as though the

failure of the Christian Church in North Africa, and the failure of Roman

Catholicism in South West Africa, in the sixteenth century, were to be

repeated in these later days by the multifarious sects and denominations

the monotony of whose painful struggles to gain a foothold on the western

shores of the unfathomable continent is only varied by the jealousies and

recriminations which they indulge in towards one another.

The Protestant churchman is wont to ascribe the failure of Christian

propaganda in South-Western Africa in the sixteenth century to Roman

Catholicism, which to him is the embodiment of an evil little if at all

removed from the evil of Islamic doctrine.[188] I have heard English

and French Roman Catholics attribute it to the inherent incapacity, or

weakness, or corruptibility—according to the particular views of the

individual—of the would-be converters, the Portuguese. Persons devoid of

special religious prejudices are sometimes inclined to argue that the

mere fact of the slave trade being in existence contemporaneously was in

itself sufficient to account for it. Upon examination none of these views

appear very conclusive. Protestantism has not fared better in West Africa

than Roman Catholicism. Indeed, it may be doubted whether it has fared,

on the whole, quite as well. No argument worthy of serious attention has

been adduced to prove the exceptional unfitness of Portuguese prelates to

successfully accomplish the task they had begun, nor does the decline

of the political influence of Portugal in West Africa provide a fitting

explanation, because the flimsy nature of the first apparent successes

of the Roman Catholic Church had become evident before that decline took

place. As for the alleged slave-trade deterrent, it was, contradictory as

the statement may appear, probably no deterrent at all, but rather the

reverse; for the policy of the Portuguese consisted in promoting friendly

relations with the more powerful potentates of the littoral, and in

supplying them with guns and gunpowder to make war on the inland tribes.

The latter, and not the coastwise natives, were, in the main, the chief

sufferers by the slave trade; and the coast people, being guaranteed from

molestation, would have no occasion to invoke the miseries inflicted upon

them by the Portuguese traffickers in human flesh, when approached by the

Portuguese inculcators of Christianity. In fact, if the political acts

of professing Christian nations in West Africa are to be considered as a

factor in the measure of success, or failure of Christian propagandism

in West Africa—a debatable proposition upon which I propose to refer

later on—it may without hesitation be affirmed that recent developments

of European policy have done more to prejudice the natives against the

doctrines of Christianity, as propounded by European teachers, than the

slave trade with all its savagery and horrors.

[Illustration: A SUSU MALLAM]

We must go deeper than this, and in doing so try and clear our minds

of preconceived opinions, no easy matter when certain errors have

been so persistently dinned into our ears that they have come to be

regarded as cardinal articles of faith; and those who in this respect

occasionally venture to disturb the serenity of our convictions are

looked upon as outside the pale of respectable society. One of such

preconceived opinions is embodied in the quotation from Palgrave’s

“Arabia” already commented upon. Another bears on the nature of Islamic

proselytism in West Africa. It is an ingrained belief with most people

that Mohammedanism in West Africa has ever been propagated by brute

force; is ever and always associated with “slave-raiding.” The mere

epithet of “slave-raiders” applied in Reuter’s telegrams to a tribe

with whom trouble has occurred, is sufficient to justify in the eyes

of the public any expeditions of a punitive kind which the authorities

in their wisdom think fit to organise, against those who have incurred

the displeasure of a District Commissioner or Military Commandant. Far

be it from me to assert that occasions do not arise when the adoption

of punitive undertakings is not only an unavoidable necessity, but a

positive duty owed by the Suzerain Power to its protected subjects. But

I would venture respectfully to suggest that the term “slave-raiding” is

much abused, not a little distorted, and sometimes most unfairly applied.

It is used almost exclusively in connection with Mohammedan tribes. When

a difference comes about with pagans, we are told that it is caused by a

predilection to human sacrifices. A reference to the frequent collisions

which have taken place between Great Britain and the natives of Western

Africa during the last six years will show that, either as a primary or

an accessory cause of the difficulty, human sacrifices are invariably

given in the case of a pagan community and slave-raiding in the case of a

Mohammedan community.

There could be no greater error than the prevalent idea that in West

Africa, Islam has attained its remarkable successes _manu militari_. Most

of Islam’s triumphs in West Africa have been won by the peaceful sect

of the Quadriyah, founded by Sidi-Abd-el-Kader-el-Jieari in 1077 A.D.,

first introduced into West Africa in the fifteenth century; and the work

accomplished by this sect has been more enduring and more widespread

than that of the other great order in West Africa, the Tijaniyah, which

believes primarily in the sword as a means of conversion.

“In the beginning[189] of the present century[190] the great

revival which was so profoundly influencing the Mohammedan

world stirred up the Quadriyah of the Sahara and Western

Sudan to renewed life and energy, and before long learned

theologians or small colonies of persons affiliated to the

order were to be found, scattered throughout the Sudan,

on the mountain chain that runs along the coast of Guinea,

and even to the west of it, in the Free State of Liberia.

These initiates formed centres of Islamic influence in the

midst of the pagan population, among whom they received a

welcome as public scribes, legists, writers of amulets, and

schoolmasters; gradually they would acquire influence over

their new surroundings, and isolated cases of conversion would

soon grow into a little band of converts, the most promising

of whom would often be sent to complete their studies at the

chief centre of the order; here they might remain for several

years, until they had perfected their theological studies, and

would then return to their native place, fully equipped for the

work of spreading the faith among their fellow-countrymen. In

this way a leaven has been introduced into the midst of fetish

worshippers and idolaters which has gradually spread the faith

of Islam surely and steadily, though by almost imperceptible

degrees. Up to the middle of the present century[191] in the

Sudan, schools were founded and conducted by teachers trained

under the auspices of the Quadriyah, and their organisation

provided for a regular and continued system of propaganda among

the heathen tribes. The missionary work of this order has been

entirely of a peaceful character, and has relied wholly upon

personal example and precept, on the influence of a teacher

over his pupils, and the spread of education.”

The Quadriyah order, moreover, is not animated by hostility towards

Christians, in which it differs materially from that of the Tijaniyah.

The French find it advisable to co-operate politically with the former

sect. “It is,” writes Captain Morrison in the interesting report already

alluded to, “our business to see that the Negroes, Moors, Tuaregs and

other inhabitants of the Western Sudan should become more affiliated to

the Quadriyah (Kadria). It is, thanks to the spirit with which the Imam

of Lanfiera inspires his adepts, that friendship and protection have been

granted to all our explorers in that region.” M. le Commandant Binger

thus describes the work of Quadriyah Muslims in the important city and

country of Kong, in the hinterland of the Ivory Coast, which he was the

first to discover and bring to the notice of Europe:

“A hundred years ago, the influence of the Muslim community of

Kong did not extend beyond a few miles of the city. Surrounded

on all sides by pagan tribes who existed by rapine and

brigandage, the people of Kong could not carry on trade and

dispose of their cotton goods without great loss, consequent

upon the exorbitant taxes imposed by the pagan kinglets,

non-payment of which involved the pillage of caravans. What did

the Muslims do? They established Mohammedan families from Kong

in all the villages situated between Kong and Bobo-Dialassu

first, and between Kong and Jenne afterwards. It took them

fifty years to settle one or two families in each village.

Each of these immigrants organised a school, asked some of

the inhabitants to send their children there, then little by

little, through their relations with Kong and other commercial

centres, they were able to render service to the pagan king of

the country, to gain his confidence, and gradually to take part

in his affairs. If a difficulty arises it is always a Muslim

who is appealed to. Even if he be quite alone in the country,

the king will empower him to negotiate, because he is usually

able to read and write and has the reputation of being a good

and holy man. If the Muslim ambassador fails in his mission, he

proposes to the pagan king that the mediation of the people of

Kong shall be invoked. Thus the country becomes placed under

the protection of the Mohammedan States of Kong. Gradually

Islam makes progress. More Muslim families settle among the

pagans, who do not fail to become converts. The latter quickly

recognise that the one means of finding aid and protection

wherever their travels may lead them lies in the adoption of

Islam.[192] Moreover, have not the pagans a significant example

before them? Do not the Muslims live in comparative ease and

comfort? The pagan, while acknowledging that it is commerce and

industry that render Mohammedans prosperous, attributes much

of that prosperity to the Supreme Being, and the Muslim takes

care to point the moral, ‘God wills it thus.’ It is clearly

apparent from the above that the Islamic propaganda of Kong is

carried on by persuasion. Force is but rarely employed, and

only against pagan peoples composed of thieves and brigands,

and when the Kong Mussulmans are driven to make use of it.”[193]

The practices of the Kong people in this respect are not at all peculiar

to themselves. We find the same procedure mentioned by Thomson, Barth,

and numerous other explorers; and the influence of Islam among the Hausas

could never have been maintained if to the early conquests of Othman

Fodio had not succeeded the peaceful efforts of the Muslim teacher,

schoolmaster and priest. Dr. Blyden once described to the writer the

incidents relating to the conversion of one of the largest pagan towns in

the Sierra Leone hinterland, the knowledge of which he gleaned from the

inhabitants themselves in the course of his travels in the Protectorate.

On a certain day the inhabitants of the town observed a man, black like

themselves, but clad in a white garment, advancing down the main street.

Suddenly the stranger prostrated himself and prayed to Allah. The natives

stoned him and he departed. In a little while he returned, and prostrated

himself as before. This time he was not stoned, but the people gathered

about him with mockery and reviling. The men spat upon him and the women

hurled insults and abuse. His prayer ended, the stranger went away in

silence, grave and austere, seemingly oblivious to his unsympathetic

surroundings. For a space he did not renew his visit, and in the interval

the people began to regret their rudeness. The demeanour of the stranger

under trying circumstances had gained their respect. A third time he

came, and with him two boys also clothed in white garments. Together they

knelt and offered prayer. The natives watched, and forbore to jeer. At

the conclusion of the prayer a woman came timidly forward and pushed her

young son towards the holy man, then as rapidly retreated. The Muslim

rose, took the boy by the hand and, followed by his acolytes, left the

village in silence as before. When he came again he was accompanied by

three boys, two of them those who had been with him before, and the third

the woman’s son, clad like the rest. All four fell upon their knees,

the holy man reciting the prayer in a voice that spoke of triumph and

success. He never left the town again, for the people crowded round

him beseeching him to teach their children. In a short time the entire

population of that town, which for three centuries had beaten back the

assaults of would-be Muslim converters by the sword, had voluntarily

embraced Islam!

It is in incidents such as these, which are by no means rare in West

Africa, that the moral force of Islam lies, and which is largely

accountable for its astonishing successes. The fanatical zeal of an

Ahmadu, a Samory and an El-Haji-Omar are but drops in the ocean compared

with the systematic moral suasion exercised by Islamic teachers, who,

carrying no staff or scrip, relying solely upon the inward strength

derived from contact with a higher creed, brave the perils and

discomforts incidental to their calling with a sublime indifference only

met with in Biblical narrative. There is a passage in Arnold’s “The

Preaching of Islam” which accurately interprets the misconceptions which

exist on the subject of Islamic propaganda in West Africa:

“Unfortunately,” says that author, “for a true estimate of the

missionary work of Islam in Western Africa, the fame of the

_jihads_, or religious wars, has thrown into the shade the

successes of the peaceful propagandist, though the labours of

the latter have been more effectual to the spread of Islam

than the creation of petty short-lived dynasties. The records

of campaigns, especially when they have interfered with the

commercial projects or schemes of conquest of the white man,

have naturally attracted the attention of Europeans more

than the unobtrusive labours of the Mohammedan preacher and

schoolmaster.... These _jihads_, rightly looked upon, are but

incidents in the modern Islamic revival, and are by no means

characteristic of the forces and activities that have been

really operative in the promulgation of Islam in West Africa;

indeed, unless followed up by distinctly missionary efforts,

they would have proved almost wholly ineffectual in the

creation of a true Muslim community.”

CHAPTER XXIII

ISLAM IN WEST AFRICA

Being now perhaps in a somewhat more open frame of mind with regard to

the work of Islam in West Africa, we may attempt to investigate the

methods of Islam and the methods of Christianity in their relationship to

the Negro. In this manner we may hope to come to still closer quarters

with the subject, and by so doing arrive at a tolerably clear impression

of its various phases. Why does Africa, which was, as has been truly

said, “the nursing mother of Christianity,” remain impervious to the

teachings of the highest religion? Why does Christianity, which has

laboured for so many centuries in Western Africa, make no appreciable

advance in that country? The failure may, I think, be ascribed to four

main causes: first, the refusal to admit that the circumstances which

regulate certain natural laws vary with climatic considerations and

racial idiosyncrasies; secondly, the tendency which Christianity, as

taught in West Africa, has to denationalise; thirdly, the incompatibility

between the ideals of Christ and modern conceptions of Christianity;

fourthly, the political action of Christian Powers.

For obvious reasons the question of polygamy is a very difficult one

to publicly discuss, but the subject of Christianity and Mohammedanism

in Western Africa cannot adequately be treated without referring to

it. It is no use shutting our eyes to the fact that the refusal of the

Christian Church to admit polygamists into its fold is one of the great

obstacles with which the Church in West Africa has to contend. That is

not seriously disputed, and yet, so far as can be observed, the chief

dignitaries of the Church with whom all decisions affecting missionary

enterprise in West Africa must ultimately lie, give no sign that they

realise the paramount importance of the problem. Now and again individual

utterances are made, which tend to show that some Churchmen, at least,

are possessed of a spirit sufficiently broad to approach the subject in

more practical fashion. A well-known Canon of the Church once remarked

that, “owing to polygamy, Mohammedan countries are free from professional

outcasts, a greater reproach to Christianity than polygamy to Islam.”

Although the first part of that statement may not be accepted _ad

literatim_, there are, unfortunately, sufficient data to show that the

morals of Mohammedan communities in West Africa are higher than those of

the Europeanised West Coast towns, where alone Christianity has gained a

sort of foothold, and where a monogamous Christianity has been preached

off and on for centuries past. And it is, at any rate, true that in West

Africa the Mohammedan is, as a rule, distinctly averse to relationship

with public women; and also, as a rule, jealously guards the honour of

his wives and daughters.

Let us consider for a moment how this refusal on the part of the Church

to receive polygamists appeals to the Negro in relation to Christianity.

If there is one social feature of the Negro which all observers are

agreed in recognising, it is the sincerity and depth of the link between

mother and son.[194] With what sort of feelings, then, must the Negro

look upon a religion which, according to its expounders, brands his

parents with immorality? In very truth, whether we approach this great

subject from a standpoint of common sense and severe practicability,

or whether we claim to study it on moral grounds alone, only one

conclusion can be arrived at. To offer Christianity to the Negro at

the price of repudiating the members of his household is unreasonable,

preposterous, unjust, and even cruel. It is unreasonable, insomuch as

it ignores the most fundamental laws of human affection which exist in

more or less developed form in every community and under every clime.

It is preposterous, because it displays an extraordinary ignorance

of the customs of the Negro and the strength of the family tie, and

all that appertains to it among the Negroes. It is unjust, because it

would deprive the rejected women (and children) of all they possess,

cover them with shame and obloquy, thus deliberately inciting them to

lead immoral lives. It is cruel, because, with an entire inconsequence

and heedlessness of after effects, it would break up a social system

consecrated by immemorial usage. There is a noble passage in Faidherbe’s

great work which I cannot refrain from quoting in this connection:

“Certain people,” said that distinguished Frenchman, “would

seem to desire that the natives should be induced to repudiate

their wives and to retain but one. This method appears to me

to be thoroughly immoral. What! Our object is to strengthen

family ties, and we would begin by disorganising the family! We

should commit a great injustice, and we should be displaying

a singular callousness towards the women and children, if we

professed to grant to the native the title and privileges of a

citizen on the condition that he kept one wife and expelled the

others. We should place venerable fathers of families in the

position of sending away, with their children, wives with whom

they had lived for fifteen, twenty, or thirty years. And how

would they distinguish between their wives?... Disorganisation

would be complete.”[195]

There is another aspect of the question which cannot fail to arrest the

attention of all enlightened and truly Christian men. Is polygamy a

necessary institution on physical grounds for the Negro _in Africa_? The

evidence in a corroborative sense is not to be lightly dismissed. Without

stopping to discuss the generally admitted theory that the sexual side of

man’s nature becomes more pronounced as the tropical zone is approached,

it is incontestable that a well-grounded belief exists in West African

educated native circles that the effects of monogamy upon the Negro _are

racially destructive_. Dr. Blyden’s testimony in this respect may not,

perhaps, command universal acknowledgment, but the following passage

from his writings is well worthy of note:

“Owing,” he says, “to the exhausting climatic conditions, the

life and perpetuity of the population depend upon polygamy.

The difference is marked between children born under monogamic

restrictions and those whose parents are polygamists. In the

one there is the evidence of physical deterioration and mental

weakness; in the other are manifest physical vigour and mental

activity and alertness. In the one there is the sad evidence

of arrested growth, suppressed physical development, and

intellectual sluggishness; in the other there is astonishing

muscular strength and fully developed chest—a reproduction of

their fathers’—not weaker, but wiser than their fathers’, when

not diverted from aboriginal simplicity by alien influence.”

The exhausting climatic conditions of which Doctor Blyden speaks is

accountable for a custom, almost universal throughout West Africa, among

both Mohammedans and pagans; which, although it may have some drawbacks

attaching to it, must nevertheless be assumed to entail preponderating

advantages for the racial welfare of the people, or it would hardly have

been so widely adopted. I refer, of course, to the extensive period of

lactation—three years as a rule—during which time husband and wife have

no connection; connection, indeed, generally ceasing when conception has

taken place. The custom is attributive to the belief that too frequent

child-bearing is injurious to the health of the mother and the offspring,

in view of the climate.[196] This is a point which also deserves the

most attentive consideration. The instinct of primitive peoples in such

matters is generally found to be based upon knowledge born of experience.

The only portion of the Dark Continent where orthodox Christianity has

made any appreciable inroad is Uganda. Now what does Sir Harry Johnston

tell us in his last report? He says there is a serious decrease in the

birth-rate of the Bantu Waganda. He quotes Monseigneur Strachir’s opinion

that one of the causes of this state of affairs is the introduction of

monogamy, consequent upon the spread of the Christian faith.

“In many parts of West Africa,” continues Sir Harry Johnston,

“where Christianity prevails, but where there is very little

result other than pious utterances from the mouth, ostensible

monogamy is corrected by the possession of recognised or

unrecognised concubines, and by a general promiscuousness in

sexual matters. But in Uganda, Christianity seems to have taken

such a real hold upon the people that, though by no means free

from immorality—as no nation or community is free from the same

tendency—they really seem to be striving at genuine monogamy

and the exclusive possession of one wife for a partner. As the

Baganda women are certainly very poor breeders, this means that

the majority of couples only have one child. In fact, the birth

of a second child on the part of the wife is such an unusual

occurrence that the wife, in consequence thereof, is given a

new and honorific title.”

A Liberian Bishop—one of the kindliest of men—to whom I showed the

above passage, replied sententiously that the ways of the Almighty were

unfathomable, but that the disappearance of the few could not be held to

weigh in the balance as compared with the salvation of the many; which

seemed to me to bear a curious analogy to that passage in “Azurara”

in which the old Portuguese historian, apostrophising Prince Henry

the Navigator on the occasion of the first appearance at his court of

West African slaves, torn with every accompaniment of barbarity from

their homes by those gallant knights Antam Gonçalvez and Nuno Tristram,

exclaims:

“O holy Prince, peradventure thy pleasure and delight might

have some semblance of covetousness at receiving the knowledge

of such a sum of riches, even as great as those thou didst

expend to arrive at that result?... But thy joy was solely

from that one holy purpose of thine to seek salvation for the

lost souls of the heathen. And in the light of this it seemed

to thee, when thou sawest those captives brought into thy

presence, that the expense and trouble thou hadst undergone

was nothing: such was thy pleasure at beholding them. And yet

the greater benefit was theirs, for though their bodies were

now brought into some subjection, that was a small matter in

comparison with their souls, which would now possess true

freedom for evermore.”

I hope it will not be thought that these references are made with any

idea of depreciating the efforts, and in some respects surprisingly

successful efforts, of Christian propaganda among the Bantu races of the

Uganda Protectorate. The point under discussion is not the evangelising

success of the Church in Uganda, but the physical effects of a monogamous

Christianity upon the races of Africa.

[Illustration: FULANI MALLAM]

I have been at great pains to obtain all the evidence available bearing

directly or indirectly on this subject, and in the aggregate it bears out

what precedes. The highest type of the Christian educated Negro urges

that an entire latitude should be left to the aboriginal element in the

matter, and although professing monogamists themselves, they strictly

maintain—whether rightly or wrongly is not for the layman to decide—that

in so doing the Church would not be acting contrary to the principles of

divine revelation.[197]

I have given as the second contributory cause of the non-success of

Christian missions in West Africa the tendency to denationalisation.

It is unhappily true that the Christianised Negro becomes to a large

extent denationalised, and the reason of it lies in the methods employed

to convert him. Islam, on the other hand, not only encourages the

spirit of nationality in the African, but intensifies it. The Muslim

Negro is elevated among his pagan neighbours; he gains their respect

and increases his own. Islam takes the Negro by the hand and gives him

equality with all men. From the day the pagan adopts Islam, no Semite

Muslim can claim racial superiority over him. Islam to the Negro is the

stepping-stone to a higher conception of existence, inspiring in his

breast confidence in his own destiny, imbuing his spirit with a robust

faith in himself and in his race. Christianity does not do this for the

Negro. Its effect, indeed, is quite contrary. Instead of encouraging, it

discourages. Instead of inculcating a greater self-reliance, it seems

to lessen that which exists. The Christian Negro for the most part is

a sort of hybrid. He is neither one thing nor another. His adoption of

European clothes causes him to be looked upon partly with suspicion,

partly with ridicule, by his pagan fellow-countrymen; although they make

use of his services as clerk or secretary when occasion requires it.

Mohammedans treat him with undisguised contempt. More bitter perhaps

than anything else is the scorn which Europeans themselves bestow upon

him. Question any white official, military man, trader or traveller, as

to his impressions of the West African native. He will tell you that the

pagan native of the interior is more often than not a fine fellow, one

of nature’s gentlemen, hospitable, kindly, simple, courteous; that the

Mohammedan native is a splendid man, with a carriage full of pride and

self-reliance, arrogant may be, haughty, but singularly dignified, with

a conscious superiority and quiet confidence stamped all over him. But

the Christian Negro is seldom spoken of without opprobrium. His vanity,

his conceit, his “veneer of civilisation,” the vices he has acquired and

so forth, are the inevitable theme. His unfortunate habit of adopting

the latest vagaries of European fashions, both in his own person and in

the person of his women folk, is the butt of constant sarcasm, as are

the accounts of the solemnisation of the Christian form of marriage in

a native West Coast town. Even the missionaries are compelled, although

with natural unwillingness, to admit an unpalatable fact. “There are a

great many natives on the coast and in Lower Nigeria,” writes Canon

Robinson, “who call themselves Christian; there are distressingly

few converts.... My advice to travellers on the coast in search of

trustworthy servants would be to prefer the heathen or Mohammedan to the

professing Christian, because a bad religion sincerely accepted, or even

no religion at all, is to be preferred to a religious profession which

is only a sham.” A humiliating confession, humiliating to the Christian

Church, humiliating to European civilisation. What between one thing

and another, the Christianised Negro is a _déclassé_, a _culotté sans

culottes_.[198] Of course there are exceptions, but they are relatively

scarce, and consist in the main of natives who have acquired wealth by

commerce (wealth being a safeguard to open obloquy all the world over, no

matter what the colour of the possessor’s skin), and who either through

the enjoyment of special educational advantages, or because they are men

of unusually high character and intelligence naturally, have succeeded

in grasping the true Christian ideal and have gained moral and spiritual

ennoblement thereby. It is my privilege to number such a man among my

friends. But I greatly doubt whether he would feel at ease in travelling

or sojourning alone in the interior, even among the tribe to which he

belongs, in his own country of origin. There seems to be a barrier

between the Christianised Negro and his non-Christian countrymen; a

barrier which excludes sympathy, and which European policy tends to still

further accentuate.

To what are these things due? To no one particular circumstance, but to

a whole set of circumstances, which together produce the effect. To the

general, omnipresent suggestion—possibly quite unintentioned in many

cases—of the Negro’s inherent racial inferiority, inculcated by European

missionaries. To the never absent, one might say inevitable insistence,

whether outspoken or only understood, upon a great intellectual, social,

moral gulf which yawns between the Negro and his Caucasian instructor; a

gulf that can never be bridged by Christianity, as taught in West Africa

by Europeans.

The third and fourth contributory causes, viz. incompatibility between

the ideals of Christ and the modern conceptions of Christianity, and

the political action of Christian Powers, may be treated together, for

they are closely allied one to the other; as, indeed, they also are to

the third cause, upon which I have briefly touched. There is a striking

passage in the last literary contribution on West African affairs,

penned by Miss Kingsley on that fatal voyage to the Cape, which puts in

more pregnant language than I could hope to do the underlying thought

expressed above:

“I know,” wrote Miss Kingsley, “that there is a general opinion

among the leading men of both races that Christianity will

give the one possible solution to the whole problem. I fail to

be able to believe this. I fail to believe Christianity will

bring peace between the two races, for the simple reason that,

though it may be possible to convert Africans _en masse_ into

practical Christians, it is quite impossible to convert the

Europeans _en masse_ to it. You have only got to look at the

history of any European nation—the Dutch, the Spanish, the

Italian, the German—every one calling themselves Christian, but

none the more for that tolerant and peaceable. Each one of them

is ready to take out a patent for a road to heaven, and make

that road out of men’s blood and bones and the ashes of burnt

homesteads. Of course, by doing this they are not following the

true teachings of Jesus Christ, but that has not, and will not,

become a factor in politics.”

The bewildering contradictions between the ideals laid down by Christ,

as taught by the expounders of his word, and the practical effect of

that teaching as exemplified in the conduct of Europeans and European

Governments, confronts the Negro at every turn. The more intelligent he

is, the more advanced in the social scale, the more puzzling does it

become. Is it a question of charity? The Muslim propagandist speaks of

Christ with deep respect amounting to reverence. He is _Kalima_—the Word;

_Masih_—the Messiah; _Qual-ul-Haqq_—the Word of Truth; _Ruh_—the Spirit

(of God). He is “One illustrious in this world and in the next”: “One who

has near access to God.” The Christian missionary speaks of Mohammed “as

an impostor;” “an arch impostor;” “a man full of evil and wickedness.”

Islam is a “bad religion”: “its ways are the ways of darkness”: “it is

Satan’s work,” and so on. Is it a question of self-abnegation? The Bible

and the Koran utter the same precepts in almost identical terms. But what

a difference in the spiritual practice of their respective expounders

in West Africa! The Muslim preacher follows out the letter of his book.

He goes on his way alone and unattended, carrying neither purse nor

scrip. He lives the life of the Negro, enters into his pursuits, shares

his hardships and his pleasures, assimilates himself in every possible

way with those whom he hopes to convert. The European missionary is

compelled, by the exigencies of the climate very greatly, to attend

primarily to his own comforts. He travels with a long file of carriers

bearing his baggage; preserved foods, linen, camp impedimenta and what

not. Some of the most earnest missionaries keenly realise the drawbacks

which such procedure must entail in the prosecution of their work, both

physically and morally. They are deeply sensible of the adverse influence

which it cannot fail to exercise over their labours. We have seen an

English prelate, high up in the hierarchy of his Church, suggest a

decrease in his salary, in order that the balance might be devoted to the

appointment of another helper in the great cause.[199] On the other hand,

we find in the works and letters of prominent missionaries engaged in the

West African field, egotistical essays of the following description:

“Care must be taken that the waterproof cloak is _stitched_. Sponges,

bath-towels, &c., will suggest themselves. Do not forget the table-linen;

a neatly arranged table helps to tempt the appetite, which is often

fastidious. Antibilious compounds are worth in my judgment _two guineas_

a box.” The above passage is derived from a book recently published,

written by a missionary with nine years’ experience in West Africa. The

articles mentioned by the writer are recommended by him as indispensable

to the welfare of a teacher of the Gospel in West Africa. The following

is a typical passage culled from the epistolary effusions published from

time to time in the organ of the Church Missionary Society from the pen

of a most energetic Bishop, who has been endeavouring with singular

ill-success, and not without some danger of arousing disturbances, to

evangelise the Hausas. “We are all well.... Our appetites are enormous.

We have plenty of food. We receive presents of food from the people every

day—rice, onions, corn, maize, fowls, bananas, &c. B—— shoots a good many

partridges and guinea-fowl, and we have a good reserve of European and

English stores.” That these little peculiarities do not in the slightest

degree detract from the sincerity of the writers may be accepted without

reserve. All we are here concerned with, is to consider the general

effect which these conceptions of the methods of propagating Christianity

in West Africa are likely to have upon the African. Are men who profess

so tender a regard for their well-being calculated to make much headway

in an evangelical sense? It may reasonably be doubted.

Is it a question of vice? The Mohammedan preacher does not leave a

stone unturned to combat drunkenness in every form, and to a very

large extent he succeeds. The sobriety of the great mass of Muslimised

Negroes no longer requires to be demonstrated. Laxity in this respect

is the exception which proves the rule. The European missionary also

denounces drunkenness, and with a fervour at times which is not always

discriminating. But he is terribly handicapped (1) by the European

trader, about one-fifth of whose total trade consists in the importation

of freshly distilled liquor, often but not invariably containing various

impurities, and in quality not exceeding that which is sold in low

public-houses in this country, and which freely mixed with water may

not be very injurious, but drunk neat, as for the most part it is, in

the _coastal_ regions of West Africa, is—we have overwhelming testimony

to that effect—harmful;[200] (2) by the European Governments who,

although they do now and again raise the duty on spirits in deference to

public opinion, tacitly encourage a traffic without which their whole

administrative machinery would become temporarily paralysed, seeing

that from 45 per cent. to 75 per cent. of the revenue of their Colonies

is derived from this traffic. These circumstances may, or may not, be

preventable. They exist, and cannot be ignored. As for another kind of

vice; the life lived by many white men in West Africa is not, perhaps,

calculated to give the Negro a high idea of the morality of Christian

Europe. His occasional visits to Europeanised coast towns—presuming him

to be living some distance in the interior—do not probably imbue him

with the notion that his trousered countrymen are the gainers in moral

ethics, through contact with European civilisation; nor, unhappily, can

it be said that the tales and personal experiences related by those of

his educated brothers who visit our great cities are of a kind to lessen

the impression he may already have formed as to the results of twenty

centuries of Christianity in Europe.[201]

Is it a question of gauging the true inwardness of the doctrine of peace

and love? It is to be feared that the political aims of European Powers

in West Africa are too often associated with Maxims and Martinis to

admit of much doubt on that score. The Negro is a shrewd man, and he

distinguishes professions from actions. The readiness with which the

white interlopers in his country appeal to the sword as the shortest cut

to the solution of a misunderstanding is instructive. The hastiness with

which his habits and customs are trampled upon by his would-be elevators;

the cheerful alacrity he is expected to show in swallowing innovations

thrust upon him at what, to his conservative prejudices, appear to him a

moment’s notice; and, finally, the increasing desire on the part of his

European friends to appropriate his most precious heritage, his ancestral

lands, and the fruits thereof, for their own use—all these things,

whether in fashionable parlance they be the “inevitable” accompaniments

of opening up West Africa by Western Europe or not, constitute those

contradictions of which I have already spoken, and whatever else they

may do, militate against the spread of Christianity in the land of the

Negroes.

Is there a remedy, and if so, on what lines is it to be sought for?

There is only one _native_ Christian State in Africa—Abyssinia—and its

Christianity is declared by eminent divines to be tainted with all

sorts of heresies and objections. But it has endowed Abyssinia with

sufficient vitality to enable her to repel Mohammedan invasion for a

long term of centuries, and the strong religious zeal of Abyssinia’s

warriors was not a negligible factor in beating back the unjustifiable

aggression made upon the independence of that country by Italy. To-day

the Emperor of this African Christian State is, with one exception,

probably the most powerful native ruler in the world. No doubt, it does

not enter the heads of European statesmen to encourage the growth of a

similar State in West Africa; which, indeed, is an obvious impossibility

for many reasons. Yet Abyssinia provides a moral for the Christian

Church. The Christianity of Abyssinia is an _African_ Christianity,

originally taught by an _African_, perpetuated by _Africans_. Orthodox

or unorthodox, it has shown itself suitable to the necessities and the

requirements of Africans; and if Christianity in West Africa, is ever

destined to make appreciable progress, it will be when it is provided

with its only feasible agent, a West African Church: a Church designed

to respond to the needs of West Africa, which are not the needs of

Europe; a Church whose servants shall be neither Europeans nor repatriate

“Afro-Liberians,” but West African Negroes, imbued with the instincts and

patriotism of race; a Church founded upon an enlightened acquaintance

with nature’s immovable laws; upon principles of true science, which is

true religion; upon a wise recognition that what is good and proper and

right for one great branch of the human family may be bad, improper, and

wrong for another.

PART IV

CHAPTER XXIV

ANGLO-FRENCH RELATIONS IN WEST AFRICA

The subject of the relationship between England and France in West Africa

is one to which every year that passes adds importance. The French

have during the last few years left us far behind in Western Africa,

so far as territorial expansion is concerned. They have now a great

Empire there. They have acquired it by dint of persistent, far-sighted,

courageous effort; qualities which it is regrettable to state have been

conspicuously lacking on the part of the British official world. If

a tithe of the energy which has distinguished Liverpool, Manchester,

Glasgow, and Bristol merchants in Western Africa had been displayed by

successive British Governments, the possessions of Great Britain in West

Africa to-day would be infinitely more extensive than they are.

In addition to getting the better of us, in a territorial sense,

France—whose possessions touch our own at almost every point—is steadily

becoming a serious commercial competitor. It is with that commercial

competition that we shall have to reckon in the future to an increasing

degree. It is of two kinds. There is legitimate competition and unfair

competition. In either case it behoves us to carefully study its nature

and consequences; to draw the necessary lessons therefrom; to candidly

acknowledge in a spirit of tolerant common sense that in many respects

the cause of its pressing hardly upon us is due to superior management

on the part of the French; to appeal to the spirit of equity and fair

play in our neighbours, when, as is the case in some parts of their West

African possessions at present, British merchants, who have powerfully

contributed in creating the trade of those very possessions, are getting

neither fair play nor just treatment; and generally to brace ourselves

together, realising that in West Africa, as everywhere else, the old

position of undisputed commercial supremacy which Great Britain was

able to maintain at one time with very little trouble, can no longer be

retained unless we shake off our facile opportunism and tackle the new

conditions in a scientific manner.

Of early French enterprise in Western Africa very little seems to be

known by the average Englishman; and yet the French were among the very

first pioneers of Western Africa—probably the very first—before the

Portuguese, at any rate, by at least 100 years. After the remarkable

studies recently published in the French African Committee’s journal by

Commandant Binger, the distinguished chief of the African department of

the French Colonial Office, there is not, I think, any alternative but

to accept as conclusive the French claim of being the first Europeans to

visit the West African coast. Spanish and Genoese navigators; the former

hailing from Catalonia, the Lancashire of Spain, may possibly have been

contemporaneous with the French. But, apart from French testimony, it is

affirmed by eminent Spanish authorities themselves, such as Navarette

and Viera, that the French preceded their own countrymen. The Canaries

were discovered by a Genoese of French descent, and with a French name,

Maloisel to wit, about 1275 A.D. They were also conquered by a Frenchman

named De Béthancourt in the first years of the fifteenth century. In

the beginning of the fourteenth the West African coast as far south as

the Senegal certainly, and Sierra Leone probably, was regularly visited

by French ships. So much has now been established. Whether French ships

then pushed south to the Gold Coast is not quite so clear. Personally I

incline to the belief that this has also been satisfactorily made out,

and the confirmatory testimony of Villaut-de-Bellefonds no longer stands

alone.

The paucity of historical and documentary evidence has hitherto been

the principal objection to the French claim of priority. It has, of

course, been made the most of by Portuguese historians. But, apart from

the circumstance that Commandant Binger has now been able to partly

fill up the gap, and apart from the eminently reasonable explanation

of Labat that the old records of the port of Dieppe, from whence many

of the French ships bound to the West Coast started, were destroyed by

the bombardment of that port in 1694, there is very good reason, to my

mind, why the Portuguese on the one hand should possess such splendid

and unique accounts of their early exploits in West Africa from the

middle of the fifteenth century onwards; and why, on the other hand, the

French, who arrived on the scene at least a century before them, should

be so poorly represented in their own national archives. The reason is

this. The enterprise of Portugal in West Africa—which has so incomparably

enriched the domain of geographical knowledge—was, from the first, an

official undertaking. It was conceived by Prince Henry the Navigator,

one of the most remarkable figures in history, and all the resources

of the science and literature of the age were invoked by him to give

to the new epoch of discovery a national and historical permanency,

which should be the means of reflecting glory for ever on Portuguese

annals. Very different was the enterprise of the French. It was in no

sense official, but private. It was undertaken not by renowned knights

and important personages in kingly service, but by hardy, illiterate,

independent mariners and merchants of Normandy. The object was not, as in

the case of the Portuguese, fame, geographical discovery, and religious

zeal, but trade. The men who fitted out the French ships and sent them

on their perilous course were Dieppe, Rouen, and Honfleur merchants; and

the French vessels returned, not with captives forcibly torn from their

homes with every accompaniment of cruelty in order to convert them to

a faith of peace, charity, and good-will, but with ivory, spices, and

gold dust. That was the earliest form of trade in West Africa by the

people of Western Europe. The slave trade came afterwards. To this day a

local industry in ivory carving exists at Dieppe, and every one who has

visited that quaint old seaport has noticed the numerous ivory ornaments

displayed in the shop windows. If, therefore, the British merchants can

claim to be the latter-day pioneers of commercial enterprise in West

Africa; if during the century that has just closed their commercial

aptitude and initiative gained for them the foremost commercial position

on the West African littoral, it was French merchants who originally

led the way. We have too often led the way ourselves in most parts of

the world to begrudge the French this honour, so far as Western Africa

is concerned. Rather should it be a bond of respect, the twin sister of

sympathy between us and our neighbours.

The first recorded instance upon which Englishmen and Frenchmen met off

the West African coast resulted, curiously enough, in an alliance. It

happened in this way. One William Towerson, in the course of a voyage to

Guinea in 1555, being pursued by some Portuguese brigantines, opportunely

came across a fleet of French ships, with whom he joined company for

safety. The alliance does not seem to have been a very satisfactory one,

as it turned out; still, it was an alliance, of sorts. This first meeting

took place some thirty-five years subsequent to the earliest known

appearance of an Englishman in West Africa, in the person of one Andrew

Battel, of Leigh—whether an ancestor of the three old maids of that ilk,

history sayeth not—who put to sea in a Portuguese slaver, and after

many extraordinary adventures amongst the natives of Angola, succeeded

in getting back to his native country. The beginning of the sixteenth

century marked the awakening of Englishmen to the potentialities of the

West African trade. It had been preceded by a notable slackening in the

energies of Normandy merchants. The Hundred Years’ War with England had

crippled enterprise of any kind in France. The House of Valois was in a

parlous state. The great war which began in 1337 and continued, with

occasional breaks of short duration, until the marvellous successes of

the Maid of Orleans compelled the English to give way, was marked by

the crushing defeats the French sustained at Crecy and Poitiers at the

hands of Edward III., and at Agincourt at the hands of Henry V.; and,

to make use of some quoted words, “The State was reduced to bankruptcy,

the nobility excited to rebellion, and the mass of the people sunk in

barbarism.”

No sooner, however, had the victories of Joan of Arc infused new vitality

into the French, than we find renewed evidence of the enterprise of

Dieppe and Rouen merchants in West Africa. The revival of that enterprise

coincides with the entry upon the scene of English merchants: Windham,

Hawkins of evil memory, Rutter, Baker, and others, and the records bear

witness to the contemporary presence of French trading vessels on the

West Coast from Senegal to the Gold Coast. Recent discoveries of old

manuscripts, dating back to 1574, at Honfleur prove that from that year

to 1583—a space of nine years—thirty-two French vessels left that port

alone for West Africa. For some time English and French got on well

enough on the West Coast. The power of Portugal was fast decaying, and

adventurers of all nationalities, notably the Dutch, were hurrying to the

spot. Then came more wars between English and French, with their natural

effect upon commercial transactions in West Africa. In 1696 the French

destroyed the British settlement at the mouth of the Gambia. For the

next hundred years or so relations between the Europeans established or

trading on the West Coast appear as a tangle of animosities. Every one

seemed to be fighting his neighbour, and pirates of all nationalities

attacked every vessel they came across, including those owned or manned

by men of their own race, even Gambia Castle, garrisoned by a British

force, being on one occasion captured and sacked by a notorious British

pirate named Davies, presumably a Welshman! Notwithstanding all this

dire confusion, the English were gradually getting the upper hand all

down the coast. In 1794 Sierra Leone was bombarded by a French squadron

without the authority apparently of the Revolutionary Government then in

power. Twenty years later, the power of Napoleon having collapsed, all

that was left to France by the Treaty of Vienna was her settlement on the

coast of Senegal.

England remained in a preponderating position politically and

commercially on the West African coast. Such, too, was her position in

the main until the revival of a French Colonial policy, under the impulse

of those far-seeing statesmen Gambetta and Jules Ferry in 1883. At any

period between 1815 and 1883 England had the opportunity of creating an

extensive Empire in West Africa and annexing practically the whole coast.

And here the curtain rings down on the old _régime_, and a new chapter in

the history of Anglo-French relationship in West Africa begins.

To whom should be properly attributed the initiation of the scramble for

Africa? It has been a cause of considerable inconvenience to the Cabinets

of Europe, and of still greater inconvenience, we may feel tolerably

certain, to the natives of Africa. Each Power that participated in it

throws the onus on its neighbour. So far as West Africa is concerned,

whatever claim or credit may be taken, the French must, I think, be

held guilty or meritorious, according as individual opinion may differ.

The scramble in West Africa arose from what, for want of a better

description, may be termed the discovery by the French of the West

African hinterlands. When Gambetta and Jules Ferry awoke the slumbering

colonial instincts of their countrymen, inland West Africa was to all

intents and purposes a blank. Englishmen and Frenchmen sat on the coast,

the former doing a large trade and the latter little or none. In two

places only were organised attempts at interior penetration being made.

On the Lower Niger, Englishmen were pushing their trade inland. On the

Senegal, the era of political conquest begun by Faidherbe was being

slowly developed, despite many difficulties and set-backs. The political

energies of Great Britain were paralysed by the resolution arrived at in

1865 to abandon all Government action in West Africa, with the possible

exception of Sierra Leone. France was still feeling the effects of the

disasters of 1870.

With the propaganda of Jules Ferry and Gambetta in favour of a policy

of Colonial expansion, a change came o’er the spirit of the dream as

regards West Africa. Backed by a strong body of opinion; supported by

men of note, such as M. Waldeck Rousseau, as he has himself recently

reminded us, French activity in Western Africa became very pronounced,

and the work once begun was not abandoned on account of the temporary

reverses suffered by French arms in Tonquin, which drove Ferry from power

and broke his heart. French missions, generally of a peaceful character,

started eastwards and southwards from the Senegal, and northwards from

the coast, to explore the unknown interior. They reported it to be a

fairly salubrious, fertile, cereal-producing and cattle-rearing country,

unobstructed by dense forests such as are met with inland from the West

Coast proper to a depth varying from sixty to two hundred miles. This

country was inhabited by intelligent races relatively advanced in the

scale of civilisation, possessing flourishing industries and commercial

aptitude. The French found regularly constituted States, more or less

Muslimised, and in some of which social law and order had reached a high

stage of development; large towns of 10,000 to 15,000 inhabitants with

regular market-days, where iron smelting was highly advanced, where the

natives dressed in handsome clothes of their own manufacture, and used

leather sandals, sword-belts, and scabbards, despatch-bags, and saddles

fabricated by themselves. It was a revelation. The chief drawback about

this vast inland region, which seemed to offer such brilliant prospects

under able administrative supervision, was its liability to be swept by

fire and sword at any moment by some over-zealous adherent of a certain

militant sect of Mohammedans, which enjoyed great influence in the

Western Sudan. These French agents were generally well received, and by

their means vast stretches of hitherto unknown country were opened up and

brought to the knowledge of the world.

Out of these discoveries was born the desire—the very natural and

legitimate desire—on the part of the French to build up a mighty empire

in West Africa, a black Indies, which should rival the Indies of the

East in extent, in wealth, and in the prestige which its acquisition

would confer. Exploring and semi-political missions were followed by

expeditions of a definite political character, and district after

district, State after State, tribe after tribe, came under French

influence; by peaceful means in the majority of cases. All this time the

English were doing nothing, in an official sense. Liverpool men were

calling upon the Government to wake up to what was going on, but their

efforts were entirely unsuccessful. Wider and wider grew the sweep of the

French net, closer and closer to our own Colonies, which it threatened to

throttle in its meshes. Sierra Leone became encircled on three sides by

French territory; the magnificent country of Futa-Jallon, the Switzerland

of Western Africa as it has been called, which had been visited at

various times by agents of the Government of Sierra Leone (notably Dr.

Blyden), of which it formed the natural hinterland, was acquired by

France without firing a shot. The Gold Coast, and Lagos, and what is

now known as Northern Nigeria—whose safety the Convention of 1890 was

supposed to guarantee—were in imminent danger of sharing a similar fate.

I have often seen it stated, even by authorities of no mean order,

that the French were permitted or allowed to carry out the great task

of securing the hinterlands of Western Africa. In point of fact, the

statement is very misleading and has had a somewhat mischievous effect.

England was not in a position to allow or disallow. The French conceived

a plan and carried it out in the face of tremendous obstacles; they were

prepared to undergo sacrifices which we were not prepared to accept, and

such being the case, they were answerable to none but themselves. Their

success and our failure was the due measure of their enterprise and our

apathy.

When the future of our Colonies appeared thoroughly compromised by the

cutting off of the interior markets, the British Government suddenly

realised that Liverpool and Manchester merchants had been clearer-sighted

than British officialdom, and at the last moment efforts were made to

secure for the British Colonies such of the hinterlands which remained

unabsorbed. Then arose a very delicate position, which taxed the

diplomatic resources of both Powers to the uttermost. British and French

officers with excitable native troops under their command, remained

facing one another in the far interior a few hundred yards distance for

weeks at a time, awaiting instructions from the irrespective Governments.

To the good sense, tact, and mutual esteem of these officers is due that

peace was preserved between England and France. We owe a deep debt of

gratitude to these men, who, suffering from the debilitating effects of

the West African climate and the hardships attendant upon West African

travel—neither of which are conducive to sweetness of temper, managed to

keep their heads. Mainly thanks to them the quarrel was adjusted without

bloodshed, and the Anglo-French Convention of 1898 was signed. It left

our Colonies of the Gold Coast and Lagos greatly circumscribed, but

assured us in “Nigeria” a magnificent territory some 504,000 square miles

in extent.

The era of territorial rivalry between Great Britain and France in

Western Africa has, it may be legitimately assumed, quite passed away.

We continue to be rivals in commercial matters, but that is a peaceful

rivalry—or should be—which ought not to exclude friendship. Nevertheless,

as trade questions are often converted into fertile causes of dispute, it

is essential that Englishmen and Frenchmen, in order to work harmoniously

together in the future, should thoroughly understand one another’s

points of view in this connection. We, as a nation, are free traders.

The French, as a nation, are protectionists. It would be absurd and

undignified for us to complain of the different economic standpoint

taken up by our neighbours. Moreover, there are various degrees of

protectionism in France. There is the extreme school of M. Méline,

which, if its doctrines were strictly applied to the French West African

Colonies, would ruin them in five years. There is the school which

upholds partial protectionism in France, but favours freedom of trade in

the French Colonies. The latter is happily gaining in strength. We should

endeavour as far as in us lies to work with the representatives of this

school. One of the clauses of the 1898 Convention, which caused a great

outcry in France when it became known, stipulated that no differential

treatment was to be meted out to British trade throughout a considerable

part of the French West African possessions for a term of thirty years.

The following extract, bearing on this subject, from an address read by

M. Bohn, the head of the largest firm of French West African merchants,

before the Marseilles Geographical Society, in September 1898, three

months after the Convention was signed, is interesting:

“A certain colonial school,” said M. Bohn, “starting from the

premise that the only object of colonies is to favour the

outlet of goods manufactured in the mother country, demands the

application of prohibitive tariffs upon foreign goods imported

into our colonies. This system, which contributed so powerfully

to lose Spain her finest colonies, flourishes in Gaboon,

which is the least prosperous of our colonies, and which only

subsists at all by constant grants in aid from the metropolis.

These examples are hardly encouraging. On the other hand, we

are able to see that those of our colonies which are developing

themselves in the most rapid and satisfactory manner are those

where no differential tariffs exist.... From that point of view

it is certain the Franco-English Convention of June 1898, by

abolishing for a period of thirty years all differential duties

in the Ivory Coast and Dahomey, has assured for that period the

commercial prosperity of these colonies.”

That notable statement and others like it (the truth of which has been

amply borne out since) show that experienced Frenchmen engaged in the

West African trade realise, as we do, that a policy of free trade is one

which in West Africa spells commercial success by the nation which adopts

it. The existence of such views in France is a very encouraging sign for

those who firmly believe that trade is the greatest progressive agency

which can be brought to bear upon the relations between Western Europe

and Western Africa.

Recent events are proving that a natural community of interests exists

between British and French merchants in Western Africa; that they will

have to fight a common foe, the Concessionnaire, and that every action

calculated to bring them into closer relationship is a step in the right

direction.

CHAPTER XXV

TEN YEARS OF FRENCH ACTION IN WEST AFRICA

The history of France’s action in West Africa during the last ten

years has been so remarkable that it deserves to be recorded in some

detail, and where possible her policy may be usefully compared with

our own. On January 23, 1892, the Paris _Figaro_ published a literary

supplement entitled “Our African Domain,” in which was set forth by

various competent authorities—amongst whom was Captain Binger;[202]

Emile Masqueray, the well-known student of Algerian problems; Georges

Rolland, one of the foremost advocates of the Trans-Saharan Railway; and

“Harry Alis,” the redoubtable Colonial propagandist, Lord Cromer’s _bête

noire_, whose tragic end will be in the recollection of many—the past

achievements, actual position and future aspirations of France in Western

and Central Africa. The supplement was divided into five parts, entitled

respectively “Algeria”; “Penetration towards the Chad”; “Senegal and

Dependencies”; “Our Position on the Gulf of Guinea”; “Congo and Chad.”

At the time this supplement appeared, the revival of Colonial ambition

in France, which owed its inception largely to the foresight and courage

of Jules Ferry, had taken firm root among the _élite_ of French public

opinion. But although the seed where it fell gave forth lusty fruit, the

sowers were relatively few, and the area under cultivation was still but

small in 1892. The Chamber of Deputies was slow to grant fresh credits.

Politicians as a whole viewed the eloquence of Eugène Etienne and other

exponents of the Ferry school with ill-disguised nervousness, if not with

positive apprehension, fearing that the country was being turned from its

true business of guarding against possible aggression from Germany, and

was playing into Bismarck’s hands by rushing into Colonial adventures

which it was known that Bismarck, for his own reasons, was desirous of

encouraging. No one party or rather group cared to identify itself too

closely with the expansionists, remembering the whirlwind of popular

passion which assailed and overwhelmed _le Tonkinois_. On the other hand,

it was not wise to entirely dissociate one’s self from a movement which

was steadily gaining a hold over the masses. So Parliament vacillated,

and, swayed by contrary winds, voted funds one minute and sought to

withdraw them the next.

The _Figaro’s_ supplement was widely criticised. The schemes it

elaborated were not merely ambitious, they were gigantic. “Our policy,”

it argued, “is to make one homogeneous entity of Algeria, Senegal, and

Congo _viâ_ the Tuareg-Sahara and the Central and Western Sudan.” The

timid Deputy shuddered at the prospect. What must have been, even to the

master-minds who initiated the policy, not much more than a fond hope

strengthened by an unshaken faith in the destiny of the country; what,

in the eyes of those who opposed it, appeared as a monstrous figment of

the imagination, is to-day in its main lines a reality! How has it been

accomplished?

“Our intentions are pure and noble, our cause is just, the future

cannot fail us,” wrote Faidherbe in 1859, and, on the whole, despite

errors, despite the effects of temporary reaction coming after acute

disappointment, despite some individual instances of cruelty and

oppression, events have justified Faidherbe’s confident declaration.

The work of France in Africa during the last ten years and more has, in

the main, been a work of progress tending to benefit the populations

with whom she has come in contact. Notable exceptions there have been,

of course, especially during the years 1897 and 1898, when the scramble

for West Africa was at its height, and under the spell of an insensate

rivalry deeds were committed by all the parties in the struggle which

cannot be too strongly condemned. To France’s debit account must be

placed the ruthless proceedings of Bretonnet in Borgu; the needless

bloodshed of which Mossi, Kipprisi, and Gurunsi were the scenes; the

inevitable barbarity which characterised Marchand’s hunt for carriers

in the Upper Ubanghi and Bahr-el-Ghazal. These incidents in themselves

are odious and reprehensible; but it is only fair to recognise that they

were the outcome of international jealousies the responsibility for which

was collective rather than single, shared in by other Powers as well

as by France herself. In what may be regarded as France’s own sphere

of influence, acts have also been perpetrated from time to time which

call for censure. The punishment meted out to certain towns hostile to

the French in the Western Sudan have been altogether disproportionate

to the offence. In the case of the French officers Voulet and Chanoine,

an incalculable amount of suffering was inflicted upon the unfortunate

people on the western banks of the Niger. But from these isolated

transgressions against the principles of humanity, culpable as they have

been, the records of no European Power in Africa are free; and they

cannot, in the circumstances of France, be held to negative or even

weaken the advantages she has undoubtedly conferred upon the population

of the Western and Central Sudan, nor yet tarnish the great reputation

France has achieved in the emancipation of millions from centuries of

tyranny and invasion. If she has had her Voulets and Chanoines, France

can show in the persons of her De Brazzas, her Bingers, her Monteils,

her Crozats, her Foureaus, Noirots, Gentils, Hoursts, and Lenfants,

performances which the subjects of other Powers may have equalled but

have not surpassed; always excepting Barth, whose moral grandeur towers

high above that of all his competitors on West African soil.

From the time when the Sieur de Brüe—one of the clearest-headed Frenchmen

who ever served his country in Africa—paid ceremonious visits to the

King of Kayor and the “grand Seratik” of the Fulas at the close of the

seventeenth and at the beginning of the eighteenth century; from the

time when raiding bands of Trarza Moors, extending their depredations to

the very confines of St. Louis (1840-60) compelled Faidherbe to take the

offensive against them, to the present day, it has been the lot of France

to find herself confronted in West Africa with races differentiating in

every respect from the true Negro of the coast regions—the people whom

England had, up to 1900, been chiefly concerned with. Eight years before,

a certain Select Committee of the House of Commons, frightened at the

responsibilities England was assuming in West Africa, pusillanimously

recommended the abandonment of all our settlements except Sierra Leone,

thus enunciating a policy the evil effects of which continued until

1895 and greatly limited our footing in West and Central Africa; France

had just emerged successfully from a death grapple with one of the most

powerful individuals that ever sprung from African loins, el Haj-Omar,

the great Tukulor Mallam and warrior. Looking backward at that long

vista of years, when France was slowly but irresistibly thrusting her

influence into West Africa, _viâ_ the Senegal and Upper Niger, by pouring

out her treasure and the blood of her sons like water; while England

remained supine on the coast heedless of the representations of her

merchant-pioneers, it was not surprising that, awakening almost too late

from our lethargy, we should have found the French, having triumphed over

their obstacles in the north, forging southwards and cutting off our

rich hinterlands in the interior. Writing to the Marquis of Dufferin in

1892, Lord Salisbury contrasted the policy of Great Britain and France in

Western Africa. “France,” wrote Lord Salisbury, “from her basis on the

Senegal Coast, has pursued steadily the aim of establishing herself on

the Upper Niger and its affluents.... Great Britain, on the other hand,

has adopted the policy of advance by commercial enterprise.” There was,

indeed, on the part of Liverpool, Manchester, and Bristol merchants,

plenty of “commercial enterprise,” but it would have been difficult for

Lord Salisbury to have quoted a single instance where that “commercial

enterprise” had constituted “a policy of advance.”

It is due to the type of native inhabiting the chief radius of France’s

operations in Western Africa, that her task has been rendered so

dangerous and so difficult, and its fulfilment so remarkable. Criticise

as we may, and often enough unjustly, because ignorantly, the colonising

capacities of our Gallic neighbours, and the fluctuations of their

colonial policy, it is beyond question that no nation on earth could

have achieved what she has achieved in Western Africa, without the

possession of a doggedness and determination for which we do not—to

our own injury, be it said—even now, give her the credit which she

deserves. For centuries upon centuries the enormous tract which lies

between the edge of the Sahara Desert and the fringe of the tropical

forest belt—consisting for the most part of grassy uplands varied by

wide plains of amazing fertility, by reason of the yearly overflow of

the waters of the Niger—had been the cockpit of Africa. Empire after

empire rose and fell; invasion and counter-invasion swept devastatingly

over the country. The splendours of Jenne and Timbuctoo vanished with

the sway of the Songhay, beneath the bullets of Morocco’s musketeers.

Fulani domination arose and gave way before Tukulor cruelties. Semi-negro

kingdoms came into being, declared their independence of this or that

conqueror, only to be subdued, while their victors had, in turn, to bite

the dust before some stronger foe. The mingling of races in that vast

region has no parallel in Africa. Ages ago the pastoral Fula—veritable

Asiatic—had settled therein with his flocks and herds, destined in

time by the sheer force of superior intellect to become the master

where he had been either the guest or the despised tenant. Later came

infiltrations of the Moorish element proper; pastorals also these,

emigrating from the plateaux of Adrar to the well-watered valley of the

Niger. Tuaregs, the redskins of the Sahara, descendants, as some affect

to believe, of those tall, fair-haired, long-limbed warriors of Northern

Europe who, about 1500 B.C., advanced slowly through Gaul and Spain,

and crossing the Mediterranean in ships, landed on the North African

Coast, ever pushing southwards, overcoming the terrors of the desert and

reaching the green pastures beyond, but repairing the greater part of the

year to the desolate Saharan solitudes of which they remain the virtual

masters, though Foureau and his _tirailleurs_ have for the first time

in history passed through without paying the toll. Arabs too, but again

later, and generally speaking farther south and east in Kanem, Wadai and

Baghirmi, where Lamy met his death and Gentil was fighting two years and

more; Arabs from the north with caravans of merchandise, and other Arabs

from the east; Shuwas, of whom no man knows the history or the origin.

They intermarried, these tawny, straight-haired nomadic strangers, with

the aboriginal blacks, or raped their women, as the case might be; and

from these unions, legitimate or otherwise, through long centuries,

there sprang into existence fierce cross-races and wild, reared in war,

nurtured in an atmosphere of turmoil and brigandage; negro Fula, negro

Moor, negro Arab, exaggerating the savage instincts of the parent stock,

whom they turned and rent when strong enough. One such hybrid product

became in time the scourge of the Western Sudan—the Tukulor, offspring

of Negro (Joloff) and Fula, unsparing, ruthless, dreaded alike by Fula

and Negro, and whose atrocities are written in letters of blood from Toro

(Senegal) to the frontiers of Hausa.

In this medley of races there came in the tenth century of our era

the first whisperings of a revealed religion. The whispering quickly

changed to the deep hum of many voices proclaiming aloud the word of the

Prophet. Islam spread with inconceivable rapidity. The Fulani became

speedy converts, but the arts they employed to win over their pagan

neighbours were usually peaceful. Not so with the Tukulors and the other

cross-races. They saw in it naught but a fresh incentive to warlike

deeds, and soon professed Mohammedans were not merely massacring the

infidels, but waging battle against their more peaceable co-religionists.

As though this were not enough, another fruitful cause of bloodshed

and disturbance was fated to arise, and still further plunge in woe

this distracted country. The Portuguese adventurers on the coast, in

the course of their professed desire to save the soul of the Negro,

made a discovery, to wit, that the muscular development of the Negro

eminently fitted him for manual labour. From that discovery dates the

most atrocious traffic the world has ever witnessed. In their greed

for slaves, the Christians of Western Europe and of America—without

distinction of nationality, though perhaps the Portuguese and English

were the worst offenders—set tribe against tribe; and the better to

stimulate the industry, imported wholesale guns and gunpowder, objects

which they ascertained the Negroes greatly coveted. The blacks waged war

right merrily upon one another, and their so-called prisoners of war

filled the slavers’ hulks. Presently the tawny races beyond the forest

belt joined in the game, desiring above all things the acquisition of

guns and the wherewithal to use them, which meant power and increased

facilities for plunder. Slave-raiding then assumed almost incredible

proportions. Internecine warfare received a new and terrible impetus. No

excuse, whether valid or imaginary, was henceforth needed to attack one’s

neighbour; and where in former days contentment might have been secured

by a rich booty of cattle and sheep, the requirements of the case now

necessitated the capture of the human animal himself. In such a country,

desolated by centuries of strife; among such a people, upon whose vices

Europe had grafted her own; under such circumstances, has lain the

destiny of France in Western Africa.

A favourite argument used by those who favour a militarist policy in

Northern Nigeria consists in pointing to the action of the French in

the Western Sudan. It is held by some to be inconsistent to express

approval of the military trend of French policy in regions adjacent to

Northern Nigeria, and to disapprove of it in Northern Nigeria itself.

I do not think that the charge of inconsistency will bear examination.

In the first place, we should be careful not to generalise. In West

Africa proper—that is, in the coastwise regions, the home of the true

Negroes—the military policy has, on the whole, been rarely resorted to

by the French. In the Western Sudan, although, no doubt, a good deal

of bloodshed might have been avoided at different times, I fail to see

myself, bearing in mind the object of French policy, how that object

could have been obtained without military conquest. As far as the purely

moral aspect of the matter is concerned, the right of any European Power

to interfere in the internal affairs of West Africa may be queried; but

if a given region can, in West Africa, be pointed to where the results of

such interference are of a beneficent nature, that region is the Western

Sudan. France is restoring to the enormous expanse of territory between

the Niger and the tropical forest belt the prosperity which it possessed

in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries under the Songhay, when Jenne

was the granary and the store-house of the Niger countries. She is laying

the basis of a prosperity far greater than in those days, because she

is able to bring peace where the Songhays could not. Having conquered

the cross-races, she wisely refrains from either interfering with their

customs, such as domestic slavery, upon which the social fabric of West

Africa depends, or from allowing, save in strictly circumscribed limits,

Christian propaganda among them, being well aware that such propaganda

in Mohammedan communities but newly subjugated is the certain precursor

of trouble, bloodshed, and fanaticism. She has hunted down and destroyed

the four tyrants who successively barred her way to the interior, and

who had perpetrated untold miseries upon hundreds of thousands of human

beings—El-Haji-Omar, Amadu, Samory and Rabah. Had she been able to

acquire the services of these men, it would perhaps have been better, but

the body of evidence is against the possibility of her power to have done

so. But there is a limit to approval of French military action, and if,

now that France’s political influence is internationally secure in the

regions east and north of the Chad, she chooses to embark open-eyed in a

struggle with the Senussi, she will be making a grave mistake. Unless

deliberately incited by unprovoked aggression, her game there is to

sheath the sword and give diplomacy the innings, and those Frenchmen who

see the danger of precipitate, immature action in Wadai and Kanem, and

are strenuously agitating against it, are wise in their generation.[203]

But, taken all in all, the circumstances in which England finds herself

in Northern Nigeria, and the circumstances in which France found herself

in relation to the Western Sudan before the conquest, are widely

different. The aims pursued by France in the Western Sudan, and by the

English in Nigeria, were not in their inception the same. The regions

coveted by France were for the most part widely removed—at immense

distances indeed—from her basis on the coast and her basis on the Senegal

River. To make her claims to those regions _internationally_ valid, it

was requisite that France should wield some tangible influence over them,

and in many cases that was impossible without conquest.

But the British in Northern Nigeria were very differently placed.

Northern Nigeria was the prolongation, so to speak, of the British base

in “the Rivers.” It lay immediately at the back of them. The possession

of the Niger’s mouth facilitated the extension of British influence up

the River and its affluent the Binue. Moreover, British merchants and

explorers had ascended both the Niger and the Binue many years before;

they had paved the way for what was to follow; and for fifteen years

before the advent of direct Imperial control in Northern Nigeria, its

native potentates had been united in close ties of political relationship

with a British Chartered Company. The Government stepped into the shoes

of the Chartered Company, not to play the _rôle_ of _conquisitador_ and

initiator, but to reap crops sown for it; to consolidate work already

half accomplished. It should, in parenthesis, be stated that France

manages the Western Sudan, a territory very much larger than Northern

Nigeria, and where a state of continuous internecine warfare had existed

for centuries, with an army not more than 3000 strong. Again, if warfare

has attended the establishment of French influence in the Shari region,

it has been due to special circumstances. Thus Gentil acquired a

Protectorate over Baghirmi without firing a shot. It was only when the

country which France had placed under her protection was invaded and laid

waste by Rabah that military action became a duty.

No comparison is really possible between the respective parts of Great

Britain and France. Both are distinct, and must be judged according to

their antecedents and special features.

In Northern Nigeria[204] we have to do with native rulers with whom we

have been in treaty relationship for fifteen years, and in commercial

relationship for longer still. They are our wards, we are in a fiduciary

capacity towards them; they are our _protégés_. We undertook by treaty to

subsidise them; we pledged ourselves by treaty “not to interfere with the

customs” of their people. It should be our object, following the precepts

of Sir Andrew Clarke, to make those rulers “far bigger” men than they

are, not to break them. They come of a proud race, a capable race, of

superior mental calibre, possessed of statesmanship and skill. They have

played a great part in the history of Western Africa. Barth, who knew

them well, has said of them that “they are the most intelligent people in

Africa.” To reduce them to impotence; to scatter their power; to break

the organisation they have created into small pieces would be politically

foolish, practically unwise, morally unjust, Imperially disastrous.

To strengthen their rule where weak; to perfect it where oppressive;

to assist them, work with them, and through them along their natural

lines; to interfere as little as possible with the customs and habits

of themselves and their people; to respect their religious beliefs; to

work gradually, peacefully, tactfully, for the attainment of the only

conceivable objects which have taken us to their country—commercial

development, advancement, prosperity—those should be the political

principles guiding us in Northern Nigeria.

The accomplishment of the colossal plan sketched out by the _Figaro_

in 1892, viz. the unification (if the word be permissible) of the

French possessions in Africa by expeditions from north, west, and

south, designed to meet on the shores of Lake Chad, may now be briefly

given. It is a stirring tale. The first attempt—if we exclude that of

Flatters from the north, of which the purpose was limited—was made from

the south, by the blue-eyed, fair-haired enthusiast, Paul Crampbel. He

fell assassinated by Rabah’s emissaries at El Kuti on April 15, 1891.

Dybowski and Maistre, sent out by the French African Committee in

Crampbel’s footsteps, had to retire without doing much more than useful

exploring work. Then came Gentil’s turn, a modest naval lieutenant who,

profiting by Rabah’s complications in Bornu, succeeded after incredible

difficulties in reaching the mouth of the Shari (after signing a treaty

of Protectorate with Baghirmi) and floating a small steamer upon the

waters of the mysterious lake. But the success was short-lived. Rabah

recrossed the Shari, forced the French to retire, and once again swept

Baghirmi with fire and sword. France hurried fresh reinforcements to the

spot, and these under Bretonnet were attacked by Rabah and decimated. A

further and more vigorous effort was required.

And here the scene shifts to the north. In October 1898 that intrepid

explorer, Foureau, left the oasis of Sadrata, near Wargla, in Algeria,

at the head of a force of picked men, 310 strong, consisting of troopers

from the Senegalese and Saharan _tirailleurs_, than whom there are

probably no more splendid fighters in the world, unless it be our own

Sikhs. Foureau was accompanied by three civilian friends. Commandant

Lamy led the military portion of the expedition, which comprised four

other officers besides himself. The object of the expedition was to

cross the Algerian Sahara and reach the Chad, while Gentil and Bretonnet

gained a firm foothold on its shores by working upwards from the Congo

and Ubanghi. Foureau and his companions plunged into the unknown desert,

and for ten months entirely disappeared from view. Frequent rumours of a

wholesale massacre reached Europe, and remembering the fate of Douls, De

Palot, Dournaux-Dupérré, and Joubert, Flatters and Bonnier, at the hands

of the fierce nomads who roam the desolate wastes through which Foureau

had to pass, France held her breath. If Foureau fell, it would not only

be a frightful disaster, fraught with peril to French policy throughout

her vast Mohammedan zone in Africa; it might also mean a revulsion of

popular feeling, a hanging up of cherished schemes for a generation or

more. But Foureau did not fall or fail. He reached the Asben oases in

safety, and demonstrated to timid minds that the Tuaregs, when confronted

by a well-armed and disciplined force, skilfully led and sufficiently

numerous to inspire respect, prefer, in the main, to hold themselves at a

distance.[205]

Again the scene changes. The plan was half-performed. The third advance

came from the west by the way of the Niger Bend. It was at first attended

by the direst results. The gallant Cazemajou met a cruel and treacherous

death at Zinder. Voulet and Chanoine, who succeeded him, showed what evil

unlimited authority and the disordering effects of the African climate

can work upon ill-regulated minds. Denounced by one of their subordinates

for barbarous conduct towards the natives, they, having already forgotten

the ordinary dictates of humanity, forgot alike honour and patriotism,

foully murdered the superior officer who had been instructed to replace

them, tore off their uniforms, declared themselves renegades, and

perpetrated the wildest excesses. But their shrift was short, and they

soon met their fate from the rifles of the native soldiers they had

temporarily led astray.

The French Government, however, did not relinquish its determination. The

fragments of the Voulet-Chanoine mission were got together, and under

the joint leadership of Captain Joalland and Lieutenant Meynier reached

the Chad, subsequently joining Gentil’s forces in the Lower Shari. By

this time Foureau had also gained the Chad. The three missions, which

after so many vicissitudes thus met together in their common goal, were

immediately called upon to face a new and most formidable danger. Against

the town of Kusri or Kusseri, where the French had established their

headquarters, Rabah was marching at the head of 5000 men, of whom 2000

were armed with guns of various patterns. He had also three fieldpieces,

captured from Bretonnet. The French disposed of a total strength of

774 officers and men—the latter natives without exception—with four

fieldpieces. They were assisted by 1500 Baghirmi auxiliaries, who do not

appear to have been of much use, contenting themselves with looting after

the battle was over. Rabah pitched his war camp three miles from Kusri,

and awaited the onslaught of the French. It proved to be irresistible.

Rabah himself perished. His losses amounted to 1000 killed and wounded,

and his camp, with the whole of its contents, fell into the hands of

the French. The French losses were severe. They included the brave

Lamy, Captain Cointet, a white non-commissioned officer and seventeen

men killed. Their wounded amounted to sixty, among them Captain Lamothe

and Lieutenants Meynier and Galland. But the victory was complete,

and Rabah, the noise of whose conquests had filled Central Africa for

close upon a quarter of a century; whose destructive strides had left

a bloody track from the Bahr-el-Ghazal to the Chad; Rabah, the last of

the great _conquisitadores_, had gone the way of El-Haji-Omar, and of

Samory. The plan elaborated by the _Figaro_ eight years previously was an

accomplished fact.

Affairs of West Africa · 第 15 / 18 章