Part 14

A Dahoman king neglecting these funeral rites would have been looked upon as the most impious of men, and a powerful priesthood would soon have sent him to Ku-to-men on his own account. It may now be understood how hopeless was my mission. It may be compared, without disrespect, to memorialising the Vatican against masses for the dead. The king’s sole and necessary answer was _non possumus_.

The “customs” began on December 28th, 1863, and ended on January 25th, 1864. They were of two kinds. The first was performed by Gelele, king of the city; the second are in the name of Addo-Kpon, ruler of the “bush,” or country――also Gelele. The ruler of Dahomé was thus double, two persons in one, and each had his separate palace and property, mothers and ministers, Amazons, officers, and soldiers. I have conjectured that the reason of this strange organisation is that the “bush-king” may buy and sell, which the “city-king” holds to be below his dignity.

The description of a single “custom” will suffice. About midday of December 28th, when summoned to the palace, we passed through the market-place, and we found the victim-shed finished and furnished. This building was a long, wall-less barn one hundred feet long, the roof was a thatch covered with a striped cloth on a blood-red ground and supported by tree trunks. On the west was a two-storied tower, sixty feet high, with four posts in front of each floor. There were on this occasion twenty victims sitting on stools, each before his post, with his arms around it and his wrists lashed together outside it. The confinement was not cruel; each had a slave to flap away the flies, all were fed four times a day, and they were released at night. The dress was a long white nightcap and a calico shirt with blue and crimson patches and bindings. A white man would have tried to escape; these negroes are led like black sheep to the slaughter. They marked time as the bands played, and they chatted together, apparently quizzing us. I may here remark that at my request the king released half of these men, and that not one of them took the trouble to thank me or to beg alms from me.

Hardly were we seated when Gelele, protected by a gorgeous canopy umbrella, came forth from the palace with Amazons and courtiers in a dense, dark stream. Having visited his fetish gods, he greeted us and retired to his seat under the normal shed. As at Kana, his wives crowded together behind and the soldieresses ranged themselves in front. The ceremonies consisted of dancing, drumming, and distributing decorations――necklaces of red and yellow beads. There was fearful boasting about feats of past valour and bravery to come. About sunset the king suddenly approached us, and I thanked him for the spectacle. He then withdrew, and we lost no time in following his example.

Nothing could be poorer than this display: any petty Indian rajah can command more wealth and splendour. All was barren barbarism, and the only “sensation” was produced by a score of human beings condemned to death and enjoying the death show.

On the morrow I sent a message to the palace, officially objecting to be present at any human sacrifice, and declaring that if any murder took place before me I should retire to the coast. The reply was that few were to be executed, that the victims would only be malignant war captives and the worst of criminals, and that all should be killed at night. With this crumb of comfort I was compelled to rest satisfied. Hitherto gangs of victims cruelly gagged had been paraded before visitors, in whose hearing and often before whose sight the murders were committed. Something is gained by diminishing the demoralising prominence of these death scenes. It is not so long ago since it was determined that the “customs” of England should be performed within the prisons, and not further debase the mob of spectators.

The catastrophe took place on what is called the “zan nya nyana,” or the evil night. At intervals we heard the boom of the death-drum announcing some horrible slaughter. It was reported that the king had with his own hand assisted the premier-executioner.

On the next morning we were summoned to the palace, whose approach was a horror. Four corpses, habited in the criminal shirts and nightcaps, sat as though in life upon the usual dwarf stools. The seats were supported upon a two-storied scaffold made of four rough beams, two upright and two horizontal, and about forty feet high. On a similar but smaller erection hard by were two victims, one above the other. Between these substantial erections was a tall gallows of thin posts, from which a single victim dangled by his heels. Lastly, another framework of the same kind was planted close to our path, and attached to the cross-bar, with fine cords round the ankles and above the knees, hung two corpses side by side and head downwards. The bodies, though stiff, showed no signs of violence: the wretches had probably been stifled.

At the south-eastern gate of the palace we found freshly severed heads in two batches of six each, surrounded by a raised rim of ashes. The clean-cut necks were turned upwards, and the features were not visible. Within the entrance were two more heads; all the bodies had been removed, so as not to offend the king.

Thus on Gelele’s “evil night” twenty-three human beings had lost their lives. And this is but one act in the fatal drama called the “customs.” It is said that an equal number of women were slaughtered within the walls of the royal abode, and I had every reason to believe the report.

I was kept waiting more than a month in this den of abominations before the king could enter upon public affairs. He was discontented with the presents sent from England, and he was preparing to attack a huge Nago city――Abeokuta――where, by-the-bye, he was signally defeated.

When my last visit to him took place he stubbornly ignored, even in the least important matters, the wishes of H.M.’s Government. Filled with an exaggerated idea of his own importance, and flattered almost to madness by his courtiers, he proceeded to dictate his own terms. His next thought was an ignoble greed for presents. He bade me a friendly adieu, and asked me to visit him next year with an English carriage and horses, a large silk pavilion, and other such little gifts. I refused to promise, and I resolved not to put my head for the third time into the hyæna’s mouth. For although Gelele has never shed the blood of a white man, he might, at the bidding of his fetishers, send a new kind of messenger to Ku-to-men by means of a cup of coffee or a dish of meat. I was glad when I found myself safely back in the pestilential climate of Fernando Po.

_A TRIP UP THE CONGO_

1863

_A TRIP UP THE CONGO_[7]

1863

Before starting on an exploration into any part of Africa (especially the West Coast), it is essential that the traveller should be properly equipped with the necessary kit both for the inward and outward man. Clothing, blankets, and waterproofs of every description; tea, coffee, and sugar if they be desirable; a few bottles of real genuine cognac if come-at-able, or some ten years’ old Jamaica rum if attainable.

On the occasion of our starting from Fernando Po in August 1863, for the purpose of ascending the river Congo, our kit consisted of one bullock-trunk, one small portable canteen, one dressing-bag, two uniform-cases, one hat-box, one gun-case, one tin box, one deal case of bread, one package of tins of milk, one canteen of cooking utensils, one tin of green tea, one ditto coffee, one small box of medical comforts, etc., two striped bags, a white canvas bag containing newspapers, three guns, two walking sticks, one camp bed and mats, two revolvers, one simpiesometer, a pocket azimuth, an instrument case, one powder horn, one shot-bag and hunting ditto. At St. Paul de Loanda we added two cases of gin, and at Point Banana twelve pieces of siamois, or fancy cloths, twenty pieces riscados, or blue and white stripe, and ten pieces satin stripe, besides six thousand five hundred beads, china, and imitation corals. To all this we afterwards received at Embomma fifteen kegs of gunpowder and ten demijohns of rum.

H.M.S. _Torch_ took us down to Loango Bay, and there Captain Smith transferred us on board the sloop-of-war _Zebra_, Captain Hoskins, who in his turn took us to St. Paul’s and put us in the hands of Captain Perry, of H.M.S. _Griffon_, and this latter vessel took us into the Congo; and forthwith we commenced a start up the river on August 31st, 1863.

The usual mode of ascending the river up as far as Embomma is by means of small fore and aft schooners, generally from twenty to forty tons measurement, which are heavily sparred and well supplied with canvas. Our gear was taken by the _Griffon’s_ boats and put on board the French schooner _Esperance_. We had a fine breeze that afternoon, and the _Esperance_ sailed up the river most gallantly. The party on board consisted of myself, Captain Perry, Mr. Bigley, and Monsieur Pisseaux, a Frenchman; besides William Dean, boatswain, my servant, four French native soldiers, and the schooner’s crew.

_Wednesday, September 2nd._――We breakfasted at a Portuguese factory, and soon after breakfast we weighed anchor and sailed up the river, arriving betimes at Porto da Lentra. In the afternoon we left Porto da Lentra, and proceeded. Passed several villages on the port hand. Boat got ashore several times after dark. About nine o’clock the Missolongis hailed and asked who we were. When I answered, they said they would pay us a visit during the night. We prepared to give them a warm reception. During the night we rounded Point Devil, a most dangerous place for navigation. Anchored at 10.30 p.m.

_Thursday, September 3rd._――Arrived at Embomma at 1.30 p.m. Embomma contained a French factory and several Portuguese establishments. At 9.30 we got under weigh again, and in about an hour afterwards entered a part of the river where it assumes the appearance of an inland lake, some parts nearly two miles wide. The scenery here is varied, but principally hilly, the highest of the hills being about 1,500 feet above the level of the river. Here we met a native chief in his canoe. He came to levy contributions from us. His people, who were armed with guns and hatchets, made various warlike gestures and ordered us to stop. Monsieur Pisseaux being our guide and adviser, we were compelled to pay one bottle of rum and a piece of cloth twelve fathoms in length.

Captain Perry shot a fish-eagle, which was considered a fine achievement, as very few of that species can be shot on account of their inclination to fly high in the air and to perch on the highest trees. About three o’clock we landed to rest, the scenery still bearing the same character, only perhaps the hills were a little higher than those we had passed. The grass was dry all over the hills (indeed, everywhere except close to the water’s edge); and little animal life being visible, the country had a very barren and desolate appearance. The trees were not of much consequence, and most of those we saw were stunted and leafless. The chief were the baobab, or monkey bread-fruit tree, the fan palm, or palmijra, a few palm-nut trees, and a species of large spreading tree well scattered over the water side. Its leaves were of a dark green colour, about the size of the lime leaf; its fruit, a long reddish plum, was said to be eaten by monkeys, and also to be fit for human food.

Here was the farthest extent of Monsieur Pisseaux’s knowledge of the river, and, to our future sorrow, we landed in the banza, or district, of Nokki. We cooked some food on shore, and messengers were despatched with a bottle of gin to the king of Kayé.

_Tuesday, September 8th._――We now left the river for the interior, and found the road excessively irksome and trying to our wind and legs; nothing but hills and dales, the descents and ascents very difficult, and stony withal, the soles of our feet receiving a most disagreeable grating on small quartz and schistus. Passing one or two fields of native beans, we arrived at the village of Kindemba.

After resting here for a short time we again started, and ascended a hill some six or seven hundred feet in height, and came to another village, where we saw something like a large baracoon for slaves, but it turned out to be a fetish house for circumcised boys.

Not many minutes’ walk from this was the village of Kayé. On entering it we were marched off to see the king. We found him seated in state, dressed in a motley garb of European manufacture: a white shirt with collar turned down, a crimson velvet loin-cloth, fringed with gold and tied round the waist by means of a belt, and a beautifully mounted sheath-knife stuck in the belt. The handle of the knife was made of nickel silver, and very showily ornamented with imitation emeralds and ruby garnets. Over all he wore a red beadle’s cloak, and on his head a helmet somewhat resembling those worn by English Life Guardsmen, but it was evidently of French manufacture. The king was very young, apparently not more than twenty years of age, very smooth-faced, and looked quite shy when he came _vis-à-vis_ with his illustrious visitors. When we were all seated, I on a chair, and the others on a covered table, the courtiers sat down on the ground at a respectful distance. The king’s old father was seated on the ground before his son.

The king’s name was Sudikil, and that of his father Gidi Mavonga, both of them very bright specimens of their race. After some compliments, Sudikil received his presents――one piece of fine fancy cloth and a bottle of gin. The carriers received five bunches of beads. But it appeared that the king was not satisfied with his presents, and he would give us nothing to eat. Therefore my companions, Captain Perry, Dean, and Monsieur Pisseaux, at once started for the river to return to Embomma. I, however, remained, and engaged Nchama, a native who spoke African idiomatic Portuguese, to act as interpreter and go-between. I may here mention that our party when it first started from the river consisted of fifty-six persons, but it continued to augment until our arrival at Kayé, when it mounted up to one hundred and fifty. We were domiciled for the night in the house of Siko Chico Mpambo, a man who put himself up as a French interpreter, without even knowing one personal pronoun of that language. In the evening the rabble that pretended to have escorted our party down to the canoe returned and requested some gin, and I gave them a bottle. The prince likewise sent for a bottle, which he received.

_Wednesday, September 9th._――Early in the morning we received a visit from Gidi Mavonga and his son King Sudikil. They examined all our travelling-gear, whilst my servant kept sentry at the door to prevent their escort from going into the house. This consisted of ten men, four of whom carried matchlocks. After about half an hour’s palaver, everything was handed over to Gidi, who promised to start for the Congo in three days, and, in consideration of receiving the said goods, bound himself to take us there, bring us back, and feed us by the way. This arrangement was a good one, as it secured the friendship of the old chief and prevented him and his people from robbing and poisoning us.

We later received a visit from Tetu Mayella, king of an adjacent village called Neprat. He was accompanied by about twenty followers, all of whom came to us for the express purpose of getting some rum. Tetu Mayella wrangled for two hours with Gidi and another half-hour with Sudikil about a bottle of grog, and ultimately despatched Nchama to plead with me for him. I referred him back to Gidi Mavonga, and, after a further consultation, Tetu received one bottle of gin, in return for which he came personally and presented us with two fowls. This was a godsend, as the day before we had nothing to eat but a few pieces of dry bread, and water to wash it down. A pig was then slaughtered with great ceremony. The carcass was cut up and divided according to custom, the king getting the lion’s share, and the other personages an allowance in accordance with their rank. We made ready to retire to rest after eating a good bush dinner and drinking plenty of palm wine. Gidi Mavonga paid us a visit late in the evening, and final arrangements were made with him to proceed first to Yellalla, or the Congo Cataracts, and afterwards to St. Salvador, or Great Gongo City.

_Thursday, September 10th._――The direction of the Yellalla Cataracts from the village of Kayé was east-north-east, and that of St. Salvador, or Congo, east-south-east. This morning we had dandelion coffee for the fourth time. It was a most excellent decoction, acting, when used judiciously, on the liver and kidneys. We found that the natives breakfasted on beans, ground nuts, fish, and beef when it can be had, and the second course is a good jorum of palm wine. At noon we began packing up, in order to start for Gidi Mavonga’s village. The natives of the Congo are divided into two classes only, the mfumo, or freeman, and the muleque, or slave. The mfumo marries amongst his own slaves, or, properly speaking, retainers, and the children born by him are in their turn mfumos, or freemen. The word slave is here quite improperly used, for the slave in reality is a freer man than the king himself. Everything the king possesses, except his wives, is literally at the disposal of the slave. Unquestionably the slave is the bodyguard of the mfumo, and, as regards work, he does what he likes, sleeps when he chooses, attends to his private affairs when he pleases, and if his master finds fault with his conduct, the chances are, if his own country be not too far away from the place of his thraldom, he will leave his master and make a bold effort to reach his native land.

_Friday, September 11th._――Very early this morning we were astonished by hearing a yelling noise from a lot of women. To use a Scotch phrase, it was a regular “skirl.” It so happened that a woman was bearing a child, and these noises were made either to drown the pains of labour or to welcome the little stranger into his trouble. In any case, we pitied the poor sufferer in travail, for the screeching must have given her an awful headache.

Gidi Mavonga came to take us to his village of Chingufu this morning. It was not a long journey, we found. Gidi’s house was a facsimile of the one we had left at Kayé: an oval building upheld by two upright posts, and the roof supported by a long stout beam laid on the top of, and tied to, the uprights. The hut boasted of three doors, one at each end and one at the side. Doubtless, fox-like, the suspicious native makes all these doors to serve as mediums of escape in case of war or a slave-hunt. There was a partition in the centre dividing the hut into two rooms, the first being a general room, and the second the _sanctum sanctorum_, accessible only to the husband and wife. The furniture was very simple, consisting of a native bed in each room. The walls and roof were composed of bamboos and grass very neatly tied together. There was no flooring but the clay bottom, and the whole looked very clean and simple.

Gidi appeared to be a great worshipper of the native fetish Ibamba, or Nzamba, a variation of the devil. The natives called him Masjinga, and he is a house-god, usually keeping guard at the bedsides. The idol in Gidi’s hut was a peculiarly droll-looking object. He was an image about three feet in height, with his mouth wide open, his under lip hanging down, and the upper drawn up as if by some strong convulsions, his nose flat as Africa, and the nostrils very much inflated. His eyes were composed of pieces of looking-glass, and in his belly was inserted a penny mirror, but for what purpose we could not discover. On his head was an English billycock hat, and about his shoulders were hung different kinds of medicines, a calabash, and a knife. The face of this wonderful figure was part black, part red, and part white. On the walls of the house, and particularly about the bed, were hung medicines, spells, and potions of every description, supposed to be antidotes against every evil to which the human frame is subject; medicines to prevent gun-shots from taking effect, spells against ill-luck, potions to have wives and plenty of children, and, in fine, charms to protect against the wrath and subtlety of Nzamba.

About midday we had a visit from some neighbouring chiefs, all gaily attired. They wore red nightcaps on their heads, and this was the only head-dress I ever saw adopted by the men on great occasions, Sudikil’s military helmet excepted. The women always went bareheaded. I had often wondered where in the wide universe old clothes went to after they are purchased by the Jews in London. The mystery was here solved, for I found kings wearing second-hand livery suits, with the coronet and crest of a marquis on the button, and princes disporting themselves in marines’ jackets of the last century, besides a variety of heterogeneous habiliments, such as old superfine black coats which had been worn threadbare, and pantaloons whose seats had become quite glazed from long service. All these had been cleaned and turned inside out by the Jews; and, although some would scarcely bear the tug of needle and thread, they were sent out to the west coast of Africa as bran-new garments, love of dress entirely blinding the natives to their defects. Our visitors were regaled with palm wine and a bottle of gin, and after laughing and talking for a long time they went away.

About sunset we witnessed a native game, which certainly was one of the liveliest sights since our start up the river. A number of Gidi’s slaves assembled in a large open space between the houses, and, dividing themselves into two parties, began throwing a ball from one to another. Upwards of twenty were engaged in this game, and the fun consisted in the one side dodging about in all directions, and preventing its opponents from catching the ball by playing the game into each others’ hands. The ball was made of palm fibre tied round with a central fibre of the plantain leaf. After sunset there was a wild country-dance, which was kept up to a late hour.

_Saturday, September 12th._――The chief Furano, who was expected from Embomma, arrived the next morning, and we started at once for the cataracts. After marching for a short time and passing two or three small villages, we commenced a descent in a north-easterly direction, and, journeying at a rapid pace for about three miles, we entered the village of Chinsawu, the residence of Prince Nelongo. Arrived at Nelongo’s, we were detained for about half an hour, waiting in the verandah of an empty house, after which we were honoured by the presence of the prince, who intimated his pleasure to us by asserting that unless the same presents as those given to Sudikil were given to him, it would be impossible for us to pass his place. This was preposterous, for we only stopped to breakfast here, whereas we were four or five days in the territory of Sudikil. It was remarkable that nearly all the people in this region, from the prince down to the smallest child, were diseased with the itch. We observed them lying on the ground from morning till night, with their skins so covered with dust that a hippopotamus was a clean beast when compared with these beings, who ranked in animate nature as lords of creation.