PART III

I.—Labour—Supply and Demand.

II.—Land and its Relation to Labour.

III.—Portuguese Slavery.

IV.—The Future of Belgian Congo.

I

LABOUR—SUPPLY AND DEMAND

Everywhere in West Africa the cry goes up, “Give us more labour.” The

British, German, Portuguese and French merchants all declare that if

only they could get the labour, they might put a different face on

the whole of the problems of production in West Africa. The principal

reason for this shortage is unquestionably the fact that West Africa is

sparsely populated, but this one fact does not, by any means, explain

the situation. In Liberia alone does there appear to be any appreciable

quantity of surplus labour, and upon its resources considerable demands

are made by other colonies. This surplus obviously arises from the fact

that Liberia is completely undeveloped, but if in the near future some

energetic power should take charge of that territory, a period would

certainly be put to indiscriminate recruiting amongst the native tribes.

It is true that in some territories in West Africa there is an increase

in the population, but taking the whole areas into review, the labour

force has seriously decreased within recent years. Statistics, though at

present little more than estimates, go to prove that in several colonies

this falling off is becoming a grave question. Recently the religious

denominations in Lagos have been holding “intercessions” with reference

to the high rate of mortality. If this intercession should lead the

natives from faith to works, we may still hope to see the abandonment of

those European customs which are doing untold harm to the physique of the

native women and children.

The causes of decrease in the population, generally speaking, are beyond

human ken and one can only express opinions which someone else will

promptly contradict. For example, almost every traveller wrecks his

reputation on that old-time rock of controversy—polygamy. Sir Harry

Johnston mentions in one of his books the case of a polygamist with

700 children, but the greatest polygamist I have ever met in Africa

possessed 1000 wives, yet he had no children! Argument based upon two

such instances, however, is profoundly unsatisfactory, because with so

large a company of wives in one case, and children in the other, it is

obvious that many other considerations repose beneath the surface. There

is one outstanding fact which everyone knows, but few speak about except

in whispers; human nature is pretty positive in West Africa, no matter

of what hue the skin, and scientists may argue until eternity upon the

relative effects of polygamy and monogamy on the birth rate, but all

their deductions are wide of the mark whilst they have so little actual

monogamy anywhere in West Africa.

[Sidenote: SLEEPING SICKNESS AND LABOUR]

Sleeping sickness has made the most terrible ravages wherever it has

established a firm hold on the tribes, but this scourge would seem to

be spending its force. Seven years ago Uganda recorded over 8000 deaths

from sleeping sickness within twelve months, and the latest Government

report shows that there has been a gradual reduction until in the year

1910 there were only 1546. Happily this encouraging feature is present

on the West Coast also. The Congo suffered more than any other colony,

due, probably to a large extent, to the systematic oppression under which

the population groaned during the Leopoldian régime. Now, however, the

absence of the scourge in many of the old districts is quite noticeable.

Villages that we knew to be swept by this plague ten years ago are once

more flourishing, and in some cases where the birth rate was almost nil

the villages are again joyous with the laughter of little children.

The worst sleeping sickness areas remaining in West Africa appeared to

me to be the Bangalla region of the Congo and the Portuguese island of

Principe. In the latter it has reached such proportions that the whites

are leaving the island. The Portuguese still keep a considerable number

of slaves on the cocoa farms, all of them either infected or exposed to

the disease. As one passes from roça to roça, these slaves, stricken with

disease, with emaciated bodies and gaunt features, stare piteously at

the passer-by from eyes that seem to stand out from their heads, mutely

appealing for the freedom of their distant village homes on the mainland.

Looking at the matter from the materialistic standpoint of labour-supply,

but makes this ruinous conduct on the part of the Portuguese appear

doubly reprehensible.

“Civilization,” too, has contributed to a decrease in the working

population, but in a varying degree. All the Powers have sinned in this

respect. I never read of punitive expeditions with “many natives killed”

without inwardly fuming at the folly of the administration which should

know how precious from an economic standpoint alone, is the life of every

single native. Yet in some places the tribes are hustled, tormented and

even butchered in a manner little realized as yet by the European public.

Think of the loss of life by violent death in both Belgian and French

Congo, and in German West Africa! Think of the countless thousands of

bleaching bones scattered over the highways through Portuguese Angola!

Within the last twenty-five years well over 60,000 slaves have been

shipped to San Thomé alone; add to this the thousands sold and still in

slavery on the mainland, and you probably have a total of over 100,000

slaves passing into the possession of the whites in Portuguese West

Africa. That stream of human merchandize involved a wastage of another

100,000 lives, for a Portuguese slave-trader once admitted that if he got

half his total gang to the coast, he was lucky, but that generally he

could not deliver more than three out of ten!

It is a haunting thought that since the “85” scramble for Africa, the

civilized Powers who rearranged the map of the African continent,

ostensibly in the interests and for the well-being of the natives, have

passively allowed the premature destruction of not less than ten millions

of people. Now these Powers complain bitterly that they are short of

labour and jump at any expedient which presents itself to obtain labour

for their hustling developments.

[Illustration: COCOA FARM, BELGIAN CONGO.]

The sins of King Leopold are visiting themselves upon his successors in

every part of the Congo basin. The prospective gold mines, the cocoa

farms, the public departments, all of them are handicapped owing to lack

of an adequate labour force. If only the Belgians could restore to life

an odd million of the able-bodied men and women done to death under the

régime of their late sovereign, what a different outlook their colony

would possess!

The Belgians now propose bringing Chinese for the Katanga Mines, but

seeing that their former experience of Chinese coolies was not a happy

one, and considering other drawbacks, I very much doubt whether they

will ultimately launch the experiment of bringing thousands of Chinese

across Africa. The original idea of the Belgian Government was that of

bringing the coolies into the Congo under a regulation which would secure

their repatriation at the termination of the contracts, coupling that

regulation with others similar to those adopted by Great Britain in South

Africa. Mr. R. C. Hawkin,[8] whose knowledge of South African politics

is not only wide, but intimate, at once pointed out that the Belgian

Administration was restricted by the Berlin and Brussels Acts. This

opened up a situation so obviously awkward that nothing more has been

heard about the introduction of Chinese labour into the Congo, at least

for the present.

[Sidenote: WHAT GERMANY LACKS]

Germany, like Belgium, differs from France and England in that she has

no other colonies from which to draw a labour force. Quite recently her

colonists, at their wit’s end for labour, passed a resolution agreeing to

import 1000 Indian coolies for labour in the mines. It had not occurred

to them that the British India Office might object. How much trouble, to

say nothing of expense, they would have saved themselves if only they had

asked the office-boy in Downing Street!—they need have gone no higher.

This is another instance of the strange features which now and again

attend German colonization, good as well as bad. Their authorities had

apparently entirely forgotten the regrettable Wilhelmsthal affair, but

probably the real reason was that this incident (which many Englishmen

will not readily forget) was regarded by them as altogether too

trivial to be noticed. This unfortunate affair—though in some respects

comparatively unimportant, yet in reality a grave matter—certainly

merits a permanent record in some form, because it is just one of those

blundering incidents which bring in their train a whole crop of labour

difficulties.

[Sidenote: AN ANGLO-GERMAN INCIDENT]

A German Railway Construction Company had been allowed to recruit British

Kaffir subjects from South Africa. In the autumn of 1910 trouble arose

because deductions were made from the labourers’ wages, and they further

complained of bad food and housing. The Railway authorities seem to

have then embittered the situation by refusing to allow the men food

and water. This conduct in a tropical country was little, if at all,

short of inhuman, and the labourers naturally struck work and apparently

assumed a somewhat threatening attitude. The situation was then handled

in a style characteristically German. The Company itself, ignoring the

civil authorities, called in the troops, who shot seven of these British

subjects in cold blood and wounded several others. How one-sided the

whole affair was is demonstrated by the fact that not a single German

soldier was even injured. This incident, from every point of view an

outrage, was regarded as so trivial that no one appears to have been

punished, nor so far as we know has any compensation been paid to the

wounded or to the relatives of the murdered Kaffirs.

German colonial knowledge of British public opinion cannot be of a very

far-reaching nature when it ignores this incident in asking for British

labour to develop its colonies. To Englishmen it cannot be a matter of

surprise that the India Office has not yet granted permission to recruit

labour from the Indian Empire.

Germany and Belgium are the only two Powers in West Africa which do

not possess colonies in other parts of the world from which to recruit

labour, hence they are dependent upon other Powers. To the proud German

Empire, this situation is irritating, while Great Britain, France,

and also Portugal, to a limited extent, can each of them augment the

labour force of any given colony by recruiting from their other colonial

possessions.

The Portuguese colonies of Angola, San Thomé and Principe, which comprise

the major portion of Portuguese West Africa, experience the greatest

difficulty in obtaining labour. It is perfectly true that during the

last half-century, close on a hundred thousand labourers have left the

shores of Angola for the cocoa islands and other places, but these it

must be remembered were almost exclusively slaves which had been bought

or captured in the remoter regions of Angola, Rhodesia, Barotseland,

and, more especially, the Congo Free State. The Portuguese colonists of

Angola are so pressed for labour that they started some years ago an

“anti-slavery” movement against the Portuguese planters of the islands.

No doubt there was an honest element in this movement, but it is equally

beyond question that the mainspring of the movement was local anxiety

to keep all the slaves in the Angola colony, which is to this moment

rotten with slavery. If Angola, a territory more than twice the size of

France, were properly developed, it would require first of all a complete

abolition of slavery, and then an immense augmentation of the labour

supply. When we were at Lobito, the Robert Williams Railway Company and

the Electrical Syndicate between them were at their wit’s end for two

thousand more men, but these could not be obtained.

The two colonies of San Thomé and Principe are by far the most serious

problem. The area of the two islands is not large—only 400 square miles

together—but they are extraordinarily fertile; the very air seems to

intoxicate with abounding fertility; everything flourishes, cocoa, sisal

and rubber; everything multiplies and replenishes on the earth, but man;

for some reason there appears to be a curse upon those islands, they are

almost without an indigenous population and the wretched slaves imported

to fill the ranks die off like flies. The future of the Portuguese cocoa

colonies is doubtful because it is obvious that they cannot be run

permanently by a temporary solution of the labour question.

[Sidenote: THE BRITISH DEMAND]

Both France and England at present manage their labour difficulties with

greater ease than any of the other Powers, and this because both have a

floating supply in their colonies, which, owing to the high standard of

colonial development as expressed in railways and steamers, motors and

good roads, is readily transferred to the more needy districts. At the

same time every now and then we hear laments that expansion is rendered

impossible owing to the lack of men.

When Lord Sanderson’s Commission took up the study of contract coolie

labour, the areas appealing for labour included the Gold Coast colony,

and the Government Secretary of the mines, Mr. Cogill, put in a plea that

the colony should be allowed to recruit labour for its mines from India.

In this plea he was supported by Sir John Rodger and the Acting-Governor,

Major Bryan. This application is not easy to understand, for everyone

knows, or should know, that Indian labour generally is unsuited to mining

work. There is, however, some reason to believe that the inspiration of

this plea came from sources requiring indentured labour from other parts

of the world, and that the demand for Indian coolie labour was put forth

in the hope of establishing necessity and thereby paving the way for a

less acceptable demand.

The bulk of labour in West Africa is employed under indenture or

contract, the majority of the latter being for three years, but a

great deal of unskilled labour is employed on a yearly, or in some

colonies—particularly the Portuguese—a five years’ contract. The latter

are paper contracts, and in practice may mean anything or nothing at all.

Very few unskilled labourers in Africa are prepared to accept willingly

a single contract of longer duration than one or at the most two years,

and if a contract system exists whereby labourers are bound for longer

periods at a single service, it may be generally assumed that some form

of pressure or intrigue has been at work.

Now that public attention is being focussed upon labour conditions,

it becomes increasingly imperative that Governments should lay down

the broad lines upon which they are prepared to allow contract labour.

Nor must the labourer only be considered, the employer has the right

to be heard in framing such conditions. In spite of much evidence to

the contrary, I am still inclined to the belief that, as a class, the

employers of labour everywhere in Africa detest as much as anyone labour

conditions which are unfair. Even the Portuguese planters of San Thomé

hate the slavery they practice, but by a long series of blunders they

have been led into their present position.

The greatest care requires to be exercised if contract labour is to be

kept free from the taint of slavery. The Indian authorities, in spite of

every precaution, frequently find that the most reprehensible practices

attach to the recruitment of labour for the East and West Indies. In the

African continent, where domestic slavery is so widely prevalent, the

need for watchfulness is a hundredfold greater.

[Sidenote: RECRUITING]

The conditions which govern the immigration of indentured labour should

differ but little from those which cover local contracts, with the

one exception that local labour contracts should always be of short

duration—never longer than a year. Contracts for over-sea labour must

be longer to cover the cost of transport, but even these are seldom

satisfactory to either employer or employee for a period longer than

three years. The Jamaican and Fiji indenture, which in practice involves

a contract of ten years, is for many reasons highly objectionable.

The chief danger is beyond question with the recruiters. In India

these men according to Mr. Broun,—an Indian Civil servant of large

experience—“are the worst kind of men they could possibly have. They are

generally very low class men.” They seem to bribe, deceive and bully by

turns, anything indeed to bring the Indian coolie into their toils. In

Portuguese West Africa the recruiter has for years been a slave-trader

pure and simple, purchasing slaves from the Congo rebels, and also from

the chiefs in the Rhodesian borderland. The Portuguese Government has

now issued a regulation that all such recruiters must be duly licensed.

In Belgian, German and French colonies, recruiting is undertaken very

largely by Government officials.

Recruiting—whether by the irresponsible recruiter, the licensed agent,

or by the Government official—calls for the closest attention of the

Administration. The official will demand from a chief, the unofficial

recruiter will bribe him for a given number of labourers; in the former

case the chief fears to refuse, in the latter he becomes a party to a

form of slavery.

The German official carries this operation through with the least amount

of sentiment. I asked a planter in the Cameroons whether he obtained

all the labour he wanted with a fair amount of ease. He looked at me

in astonishment, and replied, “With ease, of course. I only notify the

Government that I want labour and they bring it to me!” On another

occasion, when I was discussing Portuguese administration with a French

cotton planter from the Cunene, he began roundly abusing the Portuguese

Government, and upon my inquiring wherein they differed from the German

administration across the river, he replied, “The Germans stand no

nonsense over labour. If the native villages are small and distant from

the planters, they just burn down the villages and drive the natives

nearer the planters. The Government can then quite easily make a list of

the able-bodied men and supply them as they are required.” How far this

may be a general characteristic of German treatment of native races, I

cannot say, but what I have seen of German colonial methods does not

impress me that their occupation is far removed from a sort of military

despotism. In the matter of official recruitment of labour, the Germans

are by far the most vigorous of any of the West African Powers. In this

official recruitment the individual labourer concerned has very little

say indeed; that he should desire to enjoy his freedom is apparently no

concern of anyone, all he knows is that he has to work for the white man

for a given period, and in German South West Africa the “contract” must

be made “as long as possible.”

[Sidenote: DOMESTIC SLAVERY]

The hardships of contract labour are greatly increased by the prevalence

of domestic slavery. We are sometimes told that domestic slavery is

inseparable from native social life, and that from time immemorial it has

been an integral part of African law and custom. For that matter so has

cannibalism! There are many apologists for domestic slavery, including

students of such eminence as Mr. R. E. Dennett and the Editor of the

_African Mail_; the latter considers it would be foolish to abolish the

House Rule Ordinance—or in other words the legalization of domestic

slavery in Southern Nigeria. It is difficult to understand how a man with

Mr. Dennett’s experience could possibly write the paper on this question

which was reprinted in a journal of the Royal Colonial Institute. Mr.

Dennett knows, or should know, that the horrors of early history in the

middle Congo, the blood-curdling stories of Kumasi, the present-day

slavery of the Portuguese colonies and a thousand other labour scandals

rested and still rest in the ultimate resort upon domestic slavery. The

cheap sneers at the sentimentalist, the innuendo that they are mere

stay-at-home critics is entirely misplaced and no one knows this better

than Mr. R. E. Dennett.

Domestic slavery is slavery pure and simple, although I agree that

under the African chiefs it may not be so bad as under the old planter

systems. Front rank statesmen with large administrative experience have

recorded the lamentable results attaching to domestic slavery, and so

recently as 1906 Africa’s greatest constructive Administrator—the Earl of

Cromer—penned the following significant passage:—

“If the utility of the Soudan, considered on its own productive

and economic merits, is not already proved to the satisfaction

of the world—if it is not already clear that the reoccupation

of the country has inflicted, more perhaps than any other

event of modern times, a deadly blow to the abominable traffic

in slaves, and to the institution of domestic slavery,

_which is only one degree less hateful than that traffic_—it

may confidently be asserted that we are on the threshold of

convincing proof.”[9]

The broad lines of domestic slavery are common throughout West Central

Africa. The slave becomes the property of the head of the house or chief,

who can “contract” him to third parties without reference to the one

primarily concerned, that is to say the slave himself, who in turn cannot

hire out his labour without the consent of his master, and he may also be

transferred in payment of debt. Upon the death of the owner, the slaves

with their families—who are the property of the chief—are divided amongst

the heirs with other goods and chattels of the deceased. The domestic

slave can by native law everywhere, and by European law in some parts, be

recaptured if he runs away. According to British law the slave becomes

the property of the master in Southern Nigeria “by birth or in any other

manner.” This only legalizes native law, it is true, but “in any other

manner” throws the door widely open to a transfer of human beings in a

way highly repugnant to British sentiment.

[Sidenote: A REVOLTING CUSTOM]

In the middle Congo a system is rapidly extending which violates every

moral code in that it is none other than a wholesale prostitution. Under

this custom, known locally as that of the “Basamba,” a man hires out a

proportion of his wives on a monthly or yearly agreement. The basis is

the principle of absolute ownership; a weekly or a monthly “hire” in

cash, or its equivalent, is paid, and all the offspring handed over

to the husband and owner. Thus the owner, or husband, obtains first a

financial return for the hire of his surplus wives, and secondly he

claims the offspring. In the event of males, they become domestic slaves,

with which the chief may satisfy administrative and other demands for

labour; while in the case of girls the chief possesses a further source

of revenue either by hiring them out to “temporary husbands,” or by

purchasing other and older women for the same purpose. This method of

increasing the number of wives and slaves is by no means limited to the

middle Congo, but in no other part of West Africa were we able to find it

carried on so extensively. In those regions it is quite common to find

men with ten wives hired out in the different villages, and a few cases

exist of men who now carry on their trade with no less than fifty, and

even one hundred, such surplus wives!

[Illustration: A CONGO CHIEF WITH SOME OF HIS WIVES AND “BASAMBA”

CONCUBINES.]

There are other means of obtaining domestic slaves. Many of them are, of

course, “inherited,” and not a few are passed over as part dowry with a

wife; others are taken for debt and some are captured in tribal warfare.

The relation between contract labour and domestic slavery is more

intimate than appears on the surface. In West African practice an

employer desiring a given number of labourers invites or “calls” the

chief whom he informs of his requirements; if a merchant, he generally

accompanies his request for boys with a gift; if a Government official,

the demand more often than not is accompanied by a threat. At a later

date the chief returns with the required number of labourers. If asked

whether they are willing to work, they generally assent, for they fear

to oppose their chief who, even if European prestige were not behind him,

still possesses all the power of native law and customs—to say nothing of

the awe-inspiring fetish.

Admittedly, however, normal domestic slavery in Africa is widely removed

from predial slavery with which our school books made us familiar.

Eliminating from domestic slavery the sacrifices for which slaves were

always, and in some places are still, reserved; eliminating also European

demands for labour, the system is not everything that is bad, nor are

the chiefs invariably cruel and despotic towards their slaves. It is

nevertheless equally true that the frequency of “palavers” which deal

with escaping slaves is an evidence that the yoke of slavery is often

intolerable, and that in spite of native law, in spite of European law

and practice, and still more in spite of the fetish, the slaves attempt,

and sometimes make good their escape.

[Sidenote: SLAVE CAPTURE]

Over large areas in the British colony of Southern Nigeria the police

can, and do, recapture and restore such slaves to their owners, and two

years ago it came as a shock to many that an escaping slave seeking

refuge on the deck of a British Government ship could be forcibly

recaptured and restored to his master; not only so, but he was actually

flogged by British police for running away! It is, however, not

altogether an easy matter to secure recapture of runaway slaves under

British law, and therefore to the charge of “running away” is sometimes

added larceny—the theft of a canoe or a cloth; the canoe, of course,

being the boat by which the wretched slave made good his escape, and the

cloth that which he uses to cover his nakedness. The following is a fair

specimen of the warrants issued for the recapture of slaves in Southern

Nigeria:—

_COPY._ No. 1881

----

74

WARRANT TO ARREST ACCUSED.

Form 2.

In the Native Council of Warri, Southern Nigeria.

To..............................Officer of Court.

Whereas Joe of Lagos is accused of the offence of (1) running

away from the Head of his House two years ago; (2) Larceny of

cloth value 16_s._, two handkerchiefs, and a canoe. You are

hereby commanded to arrest the said Joe of Lagos and to bring

him before this Court to answer the said charge.

Issued at Warri, the 28th day of November, 1910.

(Signed): PERCY GORDON,

_Senior Member of Court_.

The British Government alone amongst the Powers in West Africa really

dislikes this system and shows some inclination to secure its abolition.

The Portuguese like it, and in the main descend to the level of it,

manipulating the system to suit, so far as possible, their labour

requirements. The Belgians cannot recognize it without violating the

Berlin and Brussels Acts, so they leave it alone to bring forth a whole

crop of abuses.

[Illustration: A HUNTER’S “LUCKY” FETISH.]

The Lieutenant-Governor of French Guinea has recently taken a strong line

upon the question of domestic slavery, which other Governments might

emulate. He has issued instructions to all his subordinate officials in

which he says:—

“We cannot allow the system of captivity to continue any

longer; it is a matter of duty as well as of dignity to put an

end to the present situation.... You are to profit by every

occasion which offers for making the captives understand that

it is immoral for one man to possess another.... Whenever you

or your colleagues make a journey you are to gather the natives

together and explain to them our wish.... In all cases which

are brought before you, you are resolutely to refuse to examine

those which relate to master and slave; make them understand

that for us there are no slaves, and that in justice and law we

only admit the relations of employer and employee. You are to

follow up with the utmost rigour all crimes committed against

human liberty, and to employ all the severity of the laws

against barbarous masters or slave-traders who are still too

numerous on the frontiers of neighbouring colonies.... Every

captive who appeals to your authority is to be welcomed by you

and protected against every abuse of force. You will disregard

every stipulation which in civil contracts, wills, etc., would

postulate the condition of family captivity.... There are no

longer any captives in Guinea—such is the formula which must

rule your conduct.”

If transfer to French Congo is a promotion, the quicker the French

Government promotes this enlightened official to that sphere, the better

for French reputation in that unhappy region.

[Sidenote: FORCED LABOUR]

In Africa forced labour, like contract labour, rests very largely

upon domestic slavery. What is generally understood by forced labour

is indistinguishable from the corvée of Germany, or from that which

obtained in earlier times in Prussia and France. It is simply a communal

undertaking upon works of general welfare, mainly roads from town to

town, although the word corvée was also applied to all feudal demands,

but in those cases some wages were given in return for the labour.

The old African communities exacted, and in many cases still exact,

labour from their domestic and agricultural slaves for which they were

and are paid, according to the whim or the benevolence of the chief. This

labour was, and is, devoted to the clearing of paths, keeping bridges

in repair, gathering harvests, porterage, canoeing, boat-building, and

indeed any undertaking which involves a considerable labour force. These

exactions, however, are always made at a time which avoids interference

with agricultural necessities; moreover, in the nature of the case, the

labour was never used very far from the village.

European administrations have stepped into West Africa, and have taken

the place of the chiefs, and in so doing have adopted corvée under the

plea of works of public utility—a blessed phrase which covers a multitude

of questionable “necessities.”

In the Gambia every able-bodied male is compelled under the penalty of a

fine, or six months’ imprisonment, to give labour for the construction

of roads, bridges, wells and clearings round the villages in his own

district. They must also provide carriers when required. Apparently the

Governor is the only arbiter of the time to be given to such works and

whether or not any remuneration may be made. In Southern Nigeria the

Governor may call up all able-bodied males between 15 and 50, and all

able-bodied women between 15 and 40, to give labour upon road-making and

creek-clearing for a period of six days each quarter. Refusal to obey

involves a fine of £1 or imprisonment not exceeding one month. Similar

regulations prevail in Northern Nigeria.

In German Togoland the natives must give twelve days a year, or commute

this by paying six marks; but the labour can only be used upon roads

and bridges in the district in which the labourers reside. Almost

identical regulations prevail in the French and Portuguese Congo. These

regulations—_qua_ regulations—are unobjectionable and, after all, only

assume powers exercised for generations by the chiefs. In practice,

however, under the term works of “public utility,” frequent and irregular

demands are constantly being made to the irritation of the people. Think

of what a single punitive expedition involves—no matter on how small a

scale. Modern weapons of warfare, ammunition, tent kits, provisions and

the thousand and one odds and ends of the modern paraphernalia of war,

all this is carried in the main by forced labour. I shall doubtless be

reminded that the chiefs always exacted labour for war. That I admit,

but “civilized warfare” is so infinitely more elaborate than the simple

native spear and arrow warfare, that they are not to be put in the same

category.

Carriers too are demanded in numbers and for distances which violate

every native restriction. It is but two years ago that a British official

in Southern Nigeria decided to start off upon a journey on Sunday

morning, and because the carriers did not come quickly enough, he marched

into the two nearest churches and seized the congregations, including

the native minister, and to demonstrate further his petty authority and

repugnance of loftier ideals, insisted on this native clergyman carrying

a box containing his whisky. At this distance it is the ludicrous which

probably strikes the imagination, but it is an entirely different matter

locally. The missionaries of Southern Nigeria, no matter what their

denomination, are of a very devout and noble-minded order; they have

instilled into the minds of the natives a deep reverence of all things

pertaining to worship, and nothing will ever efface from the native mind

that—to say the least—irreverent conduct of the representative of the

Christian Government of Great Britain.

It is difficult sometimes to discriminate between contract labour,

forced labour and slavery, the boundary lines having been obliterated

by vigorous administrations demanding labour for this and that work of

public utility, which in reality bear little relation to an enterprise

for the general welfare. In Belgian Congo this is carried further than

in any other West African colony. The Belgians insist that there is no

forced labour in the Congo, and this is perfectly true from the legal

point of view, but nevertheless almost the whole administrative machinery

and Government undertakings are maintained by forced labour. To roads

and bridges Belgium has added telegraphs, mines, plantations, and

recruitment for the army; the ranks of both—labourers and soldiers—being

filled almost entirely by forced labour.

[Sidenote: BELGIAN FORCED LABOUR]

Loud were the complaints made to us in our recent journeys through the

Congo of the incessant demands for labour by the Administration.

Wearied with a day of struggle through Congo forests and swamp, I was

resting one moonlight evening in the centre of a primitive Congo village;

a group of native chiefs were sitting round me discussing political

conditions. The absence of a certain token led me to question one

individual somewhat pointedly as to the cause.

“If I tell you, white man, you won’t betray me?”

“Your chief knows me well enough for that,” I replied.

“Well, there were eight of us,” he explained, “called by Bula Matadi. We

were bound to go, bound to leave our wives and our children and go down

river several days by steamer. When we arrived, the head white official

gave us a ‘book’ (contract) for three years, and sent us to cut a road

for the ‘Nsinga’ (telegraph wire). We worked for some days, discussing

every night how we could escape. One afternoon the white man went into

the forest and four of us who were working together ran down to the

river where we found an old canoe and one paddle hidden in the grass. We

crowded in and pushed off, one guiding the canoe with the single paddle,

whilst the others paddled with their hands. We managed to get into a

creek hiding ourselves until the next night, when, with the help of some

stout sticks for paddles, we began the long journey home, paddling in

the night and hiding ourselves and our canoe during the day. We lived

on roots and nuts for eight days, and then, when hiding in the forest,

we heard some women talking we ‘frightened’ them and they fled, leaving

their baskets behind. These contained palm nuts, on which we lived for

another six days. On the fifteenth day we reached home again, but our

people did not at first recognize us.”

“Why?”

“Because, white man,” chimed in the old chiefs, “they were so emaciated

that the flesh had shrunk from their cheek-bones, their ribs stood out

like skeletons, and they could barely speak.”

Such is Belgian forced “Contract Labour” in the Congo.

What are the boundary lines between legitimate forced labour and that

which public opinion, as trustee for native rights, should refuse to

tolerate?

The broad line of division is unquestionably between genuine works of

public utility on the one hand, and profit-bearing works on the other.

Road-making, bridge-building, creek-clearing, are all of them works from

which the whole community benefits, but the requisition of this labour

should not be left to the arbitrary will of a temporary official, but

subject to clearly-defined regulations. Any legislation upon forced

labour for works undertaken for the public good should only permit the

requisition, in lieu of taxation, as is the case in German Togoland,

where the native has the alternative of paying a head tax of six marks

per annum or giving his labour for twelve days, subject to the labour

being required for the improvement of his own district.

As in Ceylon and other British colonies, the natives should be allowed

to commute the labour by a money payment. To labour exacted under these

rigid conditions, there can assuredly be no strong objection, and,

generally speaking, the native tribes would loyally co-operate in such

proposals.

[Sidenote: FORCED LABOUR AND PROFITS]

To employ forced labour upon any kind of work which carries with it a

financial advantage partakes of slavery. A merchant obtaining forced

labour at his own price is thereby, in principle, engaging in slavery,

and if by obtaining such labour he is able to enter into unfair

competition, he is further guilty of doing a gross injustice to his

fellow-merchants. The Belgians are extremely prone to this form of

labour. In the Congo there is a good deal of State commercial enterprise,

which may yet ruin the individual merchant. The Belgian Government is

doing the larger proportion of transport on the vast fluvial system of

the Congo, and thereby competes with the Dutch House and other transport

companies.

These transport steamers are all driven with wood fuel cut from the

forests. Every few miles along the banks of the Congo river there may

be seen stacks of fire logs cut into lengths of about eighteen inches,

which have been either cut by the employees of the Government or by the

villagers. No company is permitted to purchase Government wood, and

ordinary steamers purchasing from the villagers have to pay 2 francs a

fathom for such fuel. Journeying down the Congo a few months ago, three

of us carefully examined conditions at one of the wooding posts, manned

by twenty-six men and ten women, most of whom had been “demanded” from

the chiefs in more distant parts of the Congo, and drafted to the spot

in question. Several had already served three years—the nominal term

of the contract—but, without any option in the matter, their contracts

had been renewed. Each of the men had to cut one fathom of wood per

diem; some were paid 7 francs and others only 5 francs a month, with a

3-francs allowance for food. The maximum cost, therefore, was 10 francs

for the thirty fathoms of wood cut in the month. Thus the State provides

itself with wood at a fraction over threepence per fathom, for which

company steamers must pay 2 francs. Under such systems not only are

human liberties violated, but commerce suffers prejudice. There is not a

little danger that the Belgian authorities intend giving a considerable

extension to State enterprises, which in all probability will be

prosecuted with this form of forced labour.

The question of State railways and telegraph lines is a difficult one,

both partaking of works of public utility, yet both are as a rule

profit-bearing. There is the further consideration that all profits go

to relieve local taxation. Given representative Government or given even

an elective element in the Administration, there may be some justice in

imposing this form of forced labour upon the general community, but under

the autocratic systems of Crown Colony Administration, large demands

for forced labour cause, not unnaturally, widespread disaffection.

Fortunately British colonies are almost entirely free from the employment

of such labour and to this no doubt is due the excellent management of

all railway systems under British control.

The most economic and the most politic line to follow is that of the

employment of free labour. Supervision is reduced to a minimum, abuses of

authority are rare, the work goes more smoothly, the song takes the place

of the boot and the lash, the native labourer goes home when the day’s

toil is over vowing vengeance on no one, and the white man returns to his

somewhat primitive home with a mind undisturbed by conscious wrong-doing.

II

LAND AND ITS RELATION TO LABOUR

It will not, I think, be contested that throughout West Africa there is

no native conception of private ownership of land. This is almost an

article of religious faith amongst the African races generally. Let one

tribe murder a member of another community and a palaver will be called

and compensation paid. If wife-stealing or kidnapping of boys takes

place, the tribes involved will remain calm and settle their dispute by

making peaceful and honourable amends. Let one tribe exploit the palm, or

without leave settle on the lands of another, and, on the instant, the

ultimatum is despatched—“Depart forthwith, or accept the alternative!”

Indeed the occupation of the communal lands of another tribe is

recognized by most tribes as an overt act of warfare, the signal that all

negotiations for peace are at an end.

Perhaps no more eloquent testimony of the attachment of native tribes

to their lands is to be found anywhere than in the great Equatorial

regions of the Congo. The early ’eighties witnessed in the Congo basin

three convulsive movements; the entrance of the white man from the west,

following on Stanley’s journey across the continent; the incursion of the

Arabs from the north, and the Lokele wars towards the south. This latter

movement was destined to change the whole situation in the Equatorial

regions, south of the main Congo. The Lokeles, probably pressed by

the Arabs from the north, started a “land war” with their southern

neighbours, the object being to obtain an extension of tribal land. This

pressure set in motion a land war, which ultimately extended over an area

nearly five times the size of Great Britain and ran right through the

south reaching down to the Lukenya river, and in some places even across

the greatest of the southern tributaries—the Kasai. Tribes fought each

other for the maintenance of their ancient boundaries until the whole of

the Equatorial region was in a state of warfare, which only ceased when

starvation claimed victims by the thousand. Then only were boundaries

re-adjusted by peaceful agreements; even so the whole population for

months was in such dire straits for food, that men sold their wives, and

mothers their children, for a single basket of manioca. One realizes how

passionately the natives are attached to their lands as they recount the

horrors of those terrible years. Said one to me recently—“At first we

fought to protect our lands, but in the end we had to fight to obtain

‘meat’—human flesh—to stay the pangs of hunger.”

[Sidenote: FIXED LAND BOUNDARIES]

The native boundaries are almost invisible to the European eye, but to

the African student of nature those boundaries are fixed and immovable as

the eternal hills. The limits of tribal lands, within the orbit of which

the clans may move and hunt whenever they will, are the stream, the palm

plantation, the hilly range and the bridges across streams and rivers.

Upon the chief and his advisers devolves the sacred duty of maintaining

intact these tribal lands, alienation being foreign to the native ideas.

So jealously is this guarded that many paramount chiefs in native law

have no power to grant even occupancy rights. For six months the cession

of Lagos to the British Crown was held up because King Docemo had signed

a treaty which appeared to violate this principle of native law. The

population declared that the ownership of the land of Lagos was not

vested in the paramount chief, but in the seven White Cap chiefs, who,

fearing the terrible consequences of alienating the tribal lands, fled to

the bush. It became necessary for the British representatives to give the

most explicit assurances and sacred promises on the point, in order to

secure the ratification of the treaty of cession.

It is perfectly true that titles have been granted to native tribes and

to white men, but it is equally true that originally there was never

the remotest idea that this involved the European conception of total

alienation. In the Holt _v._ Rex case of Southern Nigeria, the Crown

held that “under native law strangers cannot obtain freehold rights—only

occupancy rights.” The tribal conception of occupancy rights also carries

with it the communal idea; a native clan settling by permission within

the territory of another tribe really constitutes the first step in

progressive incorporation. In the first instance of white settlers, there

are abundant stories of the native interpretation of this principle—some

of them distinctly objectionable, although there were pure motives behind

them; others are amusing, such as that of the chiefs “borrowing” saws,

axes, string, rope, nails and what not. Again and again they have freely

and openly helped themselves to palm nuts and other produce from the

white man’s ground. No doubt much of what the European calls “pilfering”

was really quite innocently founded upon the communal conception of the

primitive races.

The impetuous scramble for African territory, which began thirty years

ago, made, and continues to make, a considerable breach in this old

primitive system. White men, acting through the doubtful medium of

interpreters not infrequently corrupted in advance, have secured from

chiefs titles to land of all dimensions. These chieftains, as a whole,

never fully grasped the meaning of the titles obtained with honeyed

words, and which they are now unable to repudiate. That this is so is

partly proved by the fact that in some colonies areas have been conceded

twice and even three times over. Swaziland is, of course, the most

flagrant example, where it will be remembered a situation so complex was

created that it ultimately became impossible for any Court to decide as

to who were the real owners of specific areas.

In West Africa things are not, and never can be, quite so bad, although

in some colonies, the Gold Coast for example, German Cameroons and French

Congo, land difficulties are being piled up for the endless confusion of

future administrators. In Belgian Congo there is no immediate probability

of trouble, due partly to the fact that capital has little confidence in

Belgium’s heritage, but more because the major part of the population has

disappeared.

[Sidenote: LAND AND LABOUR]

There is a vital connection between land and labour in all tropical

and sub-tropical colonies. The economic future of native races is

immobilized in the proportion in which their lands are taken from them.

The almost phenomenal success of the cocoa industry in the British

colony of the Gold Coast is due entirely to the fact that the natives

are the proprietors of the cocoa farms. Throughout the colonial world,

there is no more striking contrast between a landed and a landless

native community than the British Gold Coast colony and the neighbouring

Portuguese colony of San Thomé. In both territories cocoa flourishes,

both produce excellent cocoa, in both nature is very kind, but while the

one will march on conquering the cocoa markets of the world, the other is

doomed to ultimate disaster.

The San Thomé cocoa producer is only a labourer—in fact a slave—and he

is perishing at such a rate that the depleted ranks must be filled from

outside sources to the number of 3000 to 4000 labourers every year. This

constant inflow of labour cannot continue indefinitely, even if European

sentiment permitted—which it will not—the revolting concomitants by which

this labour has been maintained. The economic future of these colonies

from which the supplies are drawn will soon forbid the emigration which

at present is necessary to the island of San Thomé The population of the

Gold Coast, on the other hand, happy in the enjoyment, in the main, of

its own lands, reproduces and to some extent even increases itself every

year. The native occupies his rightful place as producer, while the white

man finds his true sphere, first as the inspirer of native efforts to

place on the market cocoa of increasingly good quality, secondly as the

medium by which the cocoa produced is conveyed to the manufacturer, and

thirdly that by which surplus European manufactures are brought to the

door of the native in exchange for his products.

This relationship of land to labour is receiving increasing recognition

by students of colonial policy. The Republican Government of Portugal,

finding both labour and land problems in hopeless confusion in the

African colonies, has recently introduced a comprehensive measure

embracing both factors in the development of African colonies. The

ordinance is probably too generous in proportions to be carried through

effectively in any colony, and stands little chance of complete

application in Portuguese colonies, which suffer already from an excess

of legislation, coupled with a rooted contempt for “Lisbon dictation.”

This new ordinance, however, is a valuable contribution to West African

legal literature.

The Provisional Government first lays down the proposition that every

native in the Portuguese colonies is under “a moral and legal obligation

to work.” The proposition upon land is in the following terms: “In all

the Provinces beyond the seas, wherever there are public lands vacant,

uncultivated, and not used for any special purpose, natives may occupy

and cultivate them subject to conditions laid down in the present

ordinance.”

The native in Portuguese colonies, therefore, must work. The sphere of

labour he may choose, but idleness is henceforth a punishable offence.

Women, sick men, minors under fourteen years of age, chiefs and those

in regular employment, are either exempt from the operation of the

ordinance or deemed to have fulfilled its obligations.

Any native may contract his services, but, in the first instance, for

a period limited to two years. The agreement is null and void unless

the wages are fixed and recorded in the contract. Any clause giving the

employer the right to administer corporal punishment likewise renders

the contract invalid. The engagement may be made with or without the

assistance of Government officials, but any document signed in the

presence of a Government authority carries with it both the right and

the responsibility of official intervention in any subsequent dispute

between the parties. If, however, the contracting parties enter into

the agreement without reference to the authorities, the employer cannot

look for official assistance in disputes with the employés, although

the latter under all circumstances may rely upon official protection

and assistance. All contracts must bear the impress of the labourer’s

thumb. Wages may not be withheld, nor may pressure be exerted to force

merchandize upon the employé in lieu of wages.

Recruiting agents must obtain a licence from the Governor of the

province, and any infraction of this section of the ordinance is

punishable by a fine of £100 to £1000. A heavier penalty still awaits

any recruiting agent who attempts to contract labourers for prescribed

regions: presumably that death-trap of Portuguese colonies, the island of

Principe. The punishment for such violation may be imprisonment for one

year, a fine of £200, and at the expiration of the term of imprisonment,

expulsion from the colony. Similar penalties await any agent contracting

labourers beyond the bounds of his judicial area.

The Republican Government evidently realizes that contract labour,

however benevolent it may be made to appear on paper, is not always a

heavenly condition, and that the labourer may repent of his bargain

before expiration. Section 18 provides for almost every concomitant

which attaches to restrained labour. The pill, however, is sugared by

a preliminary and somewhat unctuous preamble, that the whole trend of

employment must be that of “moral education.” In pursuance of this

laudable object, powers of arrest are conferred, “precautions” against

running away are permitted, and if a second offence occurs, the offender,

“when caught,” may be taken to the authorities “to be chastised.” There

are, however, certain limits to these powers, for the employer may

neither shackle nor chain an employé, nor may he deprive the labourers of

food, nor impose any fines which involve deductions from wages.

If the native of the Portuguese colonies dislikes the yoke of any master,

he may, like Adam, “till the soil,” for, as already stated, all vacant

public and uncultivated lands are at the disposal of the colonists. The

first general restriction is that this liberty is only open to those

“who do not possess immovable property to the value of £10.” The object

of this restriction is nowhere elucidated, but apparently it is that of

fixing the population upon definite areas.

[Sidenote: LEASEHOLD BECOMES FREEHOLD]

If, then, the native does not possess immovable property to that amount,

he may occupy a piece of land measuring 2¼ acres for himself, and an

additional acre for every member of his family with the exception of

males above fourteen years of age.

A man with two wives, a mother, three daughters, and also three sons

under fourteen years of age, could occupy under this regulation a

little over ten acres, but the occupation must be an effective one. A

dwelling-house must be erected, and two-thirds of the area must be under

cultivation, otherwise the title becomes void, and the authorities will

expel the occupants. The right of occupancy is inalienable.

During the first five years of occupation, the colonist is exempt from

all dues, but at the close of this period taxation is levied and may

be paid either in cash or kind. Failure to pay these dues renders the

occupier liable to eviction without any compensation for improvements.

After an occupation of twenty years, characterized by the fulfilment

of all legal responsibilities, the occupier automatically acquires the

freehold. These cultivators or small holders are exempt from serving

either in the army or the police; they are likewise freed from any form

of forced labour, hammock carrying, or paddling, but they are not exempt

from taking part in military operations with their respective chiefs,

when such expeditions are undertaken by command of the authorities.

District commissioners, civil and military officials are urged to induce

natives to avail themselves of the land provisions, and are empowered

to assign them plots of land. They are also instructed to prepare local

regulations safeguarding the rights of the colonists, compile land

registers, etc., for which no fees are to be exacted from the natives.

If a native will not labour for another, if he will not sow a field

or trade in produce, if in short he is only prepared to stretch forth

an unwashed hand and mutter “Matabeesh, Senhor!” then the official

representative of the Government will deal with him. The danger is that

other than “wastrels” may be swept into the official net, particularly

whilst such operations are so highly profitable to the Portuguese

colonies.

First the delinquent is summoned to answer the charge of idling without

visible means of support; then the paternal authorities are to read him

a homily on “moral education,” and forthwith despatch him to a place

where work is waiting for him. If he still refuses to work he may be sent

to “correctional labour.” There he will receive food and lodging and

be given one-third the market rate of wages. “Correctional labourers”

may, according to Section 58, be hired out by private persons upon the

same terms as the prisoners of State. Such persons willing to employ

“correctional labourers” are requested to make formal application, but

only those are eligible to receive such labourers who have never been

convicted in any court. If they receive such labourers a given sum _per

capita_ must be paid to the State and a fine of £20 paid for any shortage

in “returns” alive or dead, the number hired out must be returned to the

Authorities. If, however, escape is feared, the correctional labourers

may be returned to State prisons each night.

If the whole ordinance is to be applied to the Portuguese colonies in a

measure of completeness hitherto foreign to the Portuguese possessions,

then there is some hope that even the leopard may be able to change his

spots.

[Sidenote: HUMAN VALUES]

There is little likelihood that the Portuguese land laws will be rendered

effective on the spot, especially when we remember that many thousands

of miles throughout which such laws are intended to operate are not yet

under any sort of administrative control. The step which is finding most

favour in British West African colonies is that of declaring all lands,

whether occupied or not, as native land under some sort of ultimate

trusteeship of the Governor for the benefit of the natives. No purpose

can be served by denying that this would place very large powers in the

hands of a single individual, even though the powers so conferred may

only be exercised “in accordance with native law and custom.” It would

beyond question give to the Governor powers which in the hands of some

individuals might be exceedingly dangerous.

The majority of British Governors of Crown colonies could undoubtedly be

allowed to supersede the paramount chiefs in every respect, providing

the constitution of the Crown colonies permitted the bringing into full

play of this one vital condition, viz. that his actions would always be

“in accordance with native law and custom,” but Crown Colony government

excludes at present any form of representative government which is the

unwritten law of every African tribe.

Docemo, and his successor Prince Eleko, in Southern Nigeria, exacted,

and exact to-day, an abject obeisance from their counsellors, which,

if demanded by a British Governor, would secure his prompt recall. No

chieftain, whether he be Mohammedan or Pagan, ever enters the presence

of the native Council Chamber of Lagos without prostrating himself flat

upon the ground and kissing it three times before receiving permission to

sit down. Yet this paramount chief could not alienate a square yard of

land without the sanction of his advisers.

No British Governor is at present in this position. In practice, his

powers under Crown Colony government are in the ultimate resort absolute

and uncontrolled, except by question, answer and debate, in the British

House of Commons. When, however, the subject-matter reaches this stage,

the man on the spot has probably already committed the Government, and

the department is therefore bound to defend him.

Admittedly, somebody must protect the native from the wiles of

unscrupulous white speculators, no less than from the subtle and

treacherous conduct of individual natives. It is the duty of the

Governor, as the responsible authority of the Crown and trustee of native

welfare, to do this; let him by all means have power to prevent the

alienation of land and to grant occupancy rights, but under a system of

government which will give the natives themselves that which they possess

by native law and custom—a collective voice in such decisions. It should

not be beyond the wit of man to frame a system of governmental control

over native tribal lands which would satisfy the great mass of the

people, for let it never be forgotten that Africans in the aggregate are

reasonable and by no means difficult to deal with along lines which are

demonstrably equitable.

[Illustration: PRINCE ELEKO AND COUNCIL, SOUTHERN NIGERIA.]

III

PORTUGUESE SLAVERY

In Portuguese West Africa one sees the best and the worst treatment of

native races. The best for the free native, the best for the educated

coloured man and the best for the coloured woman. In every other

colony—and in this respect British colonies are becoming the worst—race

prejudice not only prevails but is on the increase. In the Portuguese

colonies there is a pleasing absence of race prejudice; natives of equal

social status are as freely admitted to Portuguese institutions as white

men; the hotels, the railways, the parks and roads possess no colour-bar,

and if the Portuguese colonies could be purged of their foul blot of

slavery, the natives of other African colonies might well envy their

fellows in Portuguese Africa. Alongside intimate social relations with

the native is a widespread plantation slavery in Angola, San Thomé and

Principe.

[Sidenote: ANGOLA]

Angola, one of the largest political divisions of West Africa, is bounded

on the north by the Congo, the east by Rhodesia and on the south by

German Damaraland; a considerable section of the northern territory,

including the whole Lunda country, comes within the operations of the

General Act of Berlin. Apart from the Lunda province and strips of land

bordering the rivers, the colony cannot be said to give any promise of

an agricultural future, although if one nation is adept over all others

in turning wastes into gardens, that nation is the Portuguese, to whom

gardens and plantations are second nature. A Portuguese house without

its shady vinery, its delicate fernery and luxuriant kitchen garden is

unthinkable; even the little children in the streets, instead of building

castles and grottos, find infinite delight in laying out miniature

gardens, in which they arrange flowers and ferns with artistic taste.

Economically, however, Angola does not pay, its finances are like many of

its old houses—very unstable and subject to leakage. Walk its streets,

visit its families, Government departments or merchants’ houses, and

certain it is that every other man you meet will remind you forcibly of

Micawber. The Portuguese community in any part of Angola can be roughly

classed as the Moneylenders and Borrowers. Each, however, appears to be

supremely happy and lives in absolute assurance that something will turn

up every day to render life more agreeable.

Loanda, the capital, is a strange admixture of ancient and modern

dwellings, old churches, a roofless theatre and dilapidated bull-rings.

But despite its shortcomings, the Portuguese have made Loanda the most

restful health-restoring sea-port in West Africa. Boma, the capital of

the Congo, is distant only twenty-four hours’ steam, but it is surely

the most unhealthy and the most foodless place in Africa. The Belgians,

if they liked, might supply fresh provisions to its starving and dying

population,—for everyone in Boma is dying, it is only a question of

time. In Boma, fowls, eggs, fruit, fish and vegetables are priceless,

while every day shiploads can be purchased very cheaply in Loanda, and if

shipped twice a week to the Lower Congo, would at least make life, though

short, more comfortable.

[Illustration: LAND FORMATION, LOANDA, PORTUGUESE ANGOLA.]

There is one place every visitor to Loanda should inspect—the old Dutch

Church dedicated to “The Lady of our Salvation.” Some American dollars

would be well spent in preserving this relic, for it is one of the many

instances which demonstrate that slaving was a pious occupation in the

early seventeenth century. The whole of the interior was once composed of

blue and white tiles of pictorial design, and one on the north wall of

the chancel is still complete; this apparently represents the conquest

of Angola by the Dutch, who are seen in broad-brimmed hats, braided

coat-tails and parade boots, fighting and slaughtering the hosts of

savages. The whole operation against the unfortunate infidels is being

directed, and presumably blessed, by the Lady of our Salvation enthroned

in the clouds.

If Portuguese enterprise has made Loanda a restful spot for weary

travellers, British capital—in the person Robert Williams—has turned an

unknown strip of desert land into a nourishing sea-port now known as

Lobito Bay. It is from this port, with excellent anchorage and transport

facilities, that the West Coast will connect with the Cape railway. This

Lobito—Katanga railway, though it has only completed some 450 of the 1200

miles to Katanga, promises commercial success when opened, for it should

then constitute the cheapest transport route to Rhodesia and the Congo;

that is unless the Portuguese, with their usual short-sighted economic

policy, kill the enterprise with tariffs before it has had a real chance

of life.

There are only two other ports of any consequence in Portuguese

Angola—Mossamedes and Benguella; the latter a harbour with perpetual

“rollers” which make a stay on board anything but a comfortable

experience. The town itself, like most Portuguese institutions, is

going to ruin: the only redeeming feature being the maintenance of its

public gardens, fountains and Eucalyptus avenues. Catumbella, an inland

town, lies midway between Lobito Bay and Benguella, and with the latter

town, constituted the principal centre of the slave-trade. The old

slave-compounds and prison-houses confront the traveller in every part of

Catumbella and Benguella, and although many have fallen into disuse, some

still have the appearance of occasional occupation.

[Sidenote: PORTUGUESE “HOTELS”]

Loanda, Lobito and Benguella all possess “hotels.” Those of the capital

proper are a strange mixture of cleanliness, tobacco-ash and half-hidden

dirt, but at least they are free from the presence of those unfortunate

white women who intrude themselves with such persistence on the attention

or inattention of passing white travellers in Benguella, and live by

running accounts paid irregularly by white men in that most loathsome

of all towns in West Africa. Those wishing to visit Benguella should

order their rooms months ahead and not be surprised if on arrival Senhor

has forgotten all about the order and has neither room nor bed at his

disposal. A sound and vigorous rating, however, will generally extort a

promise of a room somewhere, a promise which will seldom be fulfilled

until all other guests have retired to beds severally robbed of one

portion or another to make up an incomplete set for the newly-arrived

guests. Nor must the tired travellers be surprised if a black boy enters

the bedroom, without knocking, and demands the “other master’s pillow,”

only to be followed later by another woolly pate thrust round the doorway

sleepily requesting the surrender of a counterpane or towel, for yet

“another master.”

[Illustration: CHANCEL AND NORTH WALL OF DISUSED DUTCH CHURCH, LOANDA.

_See p. 171._]

It is useless to expostulate with the hotel manager, who will reply with

a veritable flood of apologies and threaten to break the head, and neck

if necessary, of every black boy in the place, and yet the guest knows

with mathematical certainty that he will again have to go through the

same course of torture before getting a troubled sleep on that straw

mattress in yonder whitewashed room. This is the whole trouble with the

Portuguese, commercially and diplomatically; their eternal protestations

of sincerity, integrity and courtesy on the one hand, and, on the other,

a total incapability of observing the most sacred promises. It is an

old story, the same which confronted Wellington in the early nineteenth

century. The Portuguese is very like the African; you despair of curing

him of his weaknesses—which are, after all, seldom intentionally

vicious—and yet you love him, because his kindly nature compels you.

The chief interest for the British public in Portuguese colonies arises

from two distinct causes—financial interests and treaty obligations.

Our financial interests are not large; they involve certain railway

schemes, the supply of labour for the Transvaal mines, and a few

plantation and merchant enterprises. Our treaty obligations, binding

us in definite alliance with Portugal, may at any moment involve Great

Britain in a grave international situation. The value, or otherwise, of

such an alliance is open to a difference of opinion. It is, however,

imperative that our ally should observe all moral standards which the

civilized Powers are pledged to maintain with all the forces at their

disposal. Travellers, consuls, merchants, sea captains and government

officials have repeatedly called attention to the prevailing slavery

and slave-trade in Portuguese West Africa; both of which detestable

practices are in gross violation of Anglo-Portuguese treaties, the

Brussels and Berlin Acts. All, or any, of the civilized Powers can at any

moment—and in point of responsibility should—intervene and demand the

abolition of slavery in Angola, San Thomé and Principe, and if Portugal

continued to beg the question by calling slavery by some other name, that

Power, or those Powers, could, if they so desired, shake her out of her

indifference by casting the anchor of a battleship in sight of the ports

of San Thomé and St. Paul de Loanda. I am not advocating such a course

for one moment, but it is vital that the British public should realize

that in the event of any Power signatory to anti-slavery Conventions

waking up for any reason, disinterested or otherwise, to treaty

obligations, and making some effort to discharge those liabilities, such

Power would be at once confronted by the possibility of Britain’s navy

defending Portuguese colonies, although run by slave labour. A pretty

spectacle indeed, Britain’s matchless fleet defending the slaver, only

wanting old Jack Hawkins on the Bridge, to complete the picture!

[Illustration: COCOA CARRYING, BELGIAN CONGO.]

[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO COCOA ROÇA, PRINCIPE ISLAND. (PORTUGUESE.)]

[Sidenote: MAINLAND SLAVERY]

Portugal shares with every other West African Power the problem of

shortage of labour and with it the short-sighted energy of the impatient

employer, who, beyond the ken of the official eye, frequently resorts

to illegal means for increasing his supply. Domestic slavery survives

in Portuguese Angola as well as in Nigeria, and in Belgian and French

Congo. One can only estimate very roughly the slave population of Africa,

but probably not less than a million human beings are to-day ignorant

of the blessings of personal liberty. Mr. Nevinson, in his admirable

book on “Modern Slavery,” says of Angola alone, “including the very

large number of natives who, by purchase or birth, are the family slaves

of the village chiefs and other fairly prosperous natives, we might

probably reckon at least half the population as living under some form

of slavery.” We cannot acquit many Powers in Africa from the charge of

profiting administratively from this form of human chattelage, but when

Portugal sets up a _tu quoque_ plea we are compelled to differ. The

dividing line between the Powers is that whilst many of them profit by

this practice occasionally and for restricted periods, the Portuguese

descend to the lowest level, adopt the native practice themselves and

thus become not the “hirers,” but the owners. In this way they endeavour

to meet their interminable shortage in the labour supply. To what lengths

they are prepared to carry this system may be gathered from the report

of Professor A. Prister in the _Hamburger Fremden-Blatt_ for 28th July,

1906:—“In Angola, even in San Paolo de Loanda, under the eyes of the

Governor, the Bishop and the high officials,” he alleges, are to be

found “regular ‘bridewells’ for the production of slaves.” One of these,

he says, he visited on the estate of “one of the richest Portuguese,”

sixteen miles from Loanda. There he saw a large number of women, with

only a few men, at work. “Each woman has a little hut, in a courtyard

enclosed by a wall, in which she lives with her young ones. The woman is

always pregnant, and carries her last child on her back, during work, in

Kaffir manner. The overseer of this plantation, who treated me in every

respect with Portuguese friendliness, and took me for a great admirer of

his breeding establishment, told me that about four hundred negroes were

there, and added with a laugh that he had over a hundred young ones in

the compound. This is just as if a cattle-breeder were boasting of the

fine increase in his herds. When the young one is so far grown up that he

can be put to some use, at from six to eight years of age, he enters into

a so-called contract, or he steps quite simply into the place of a dead

serviçal. For instance, Joseph is told that his name is no more Joseph

but Charles, and immediately the dead Charles is replaced. He never fell

ill; he never died; he only lives a second life.” It is to be hoped that

such incidents are rare even in Angola, but it brings home forcibly to

the British mind the sort of colonies the “matchless navy” of Great

Britain may be called upon one day to defend.

[Sidenote: CONTRACT LABOUR AND SLAVERY]

Certain apologists of the Portuguese are very fond of comparing the

British indentured labour system with labour conditions on the Angolan

mainland and the islands. The labour system of the East and West Indies

are by no means ideal, but there is a world of difference, not only in

the daily management of this labour, but fundamentally.

In San Thomé the contracted labourer from Angola is a slave: he calls

himself a slave, and the Mozambique free man holds him in contempt as a

slave; either he was captured, or purchased on the mainland with cash

by the plantation owners just as men purchase cattle or capture wild

animals. Every single slave with whom I spoke, both on the mainland and

on the islands, gave me the clearest account, replete with convincing

detail, of the manner in which he or she had been either kidnapped or

purchased. Not a few of the slaves had “changed hands” several times

before the ultimate sale to the planter.

THE SLAVE’S CASE

Dawn in darkest Africa · 第 3 / 6 章