Chapter XXII: The Firing to Whydah, and Conclusion of the Customs.237

At nine A.M., of Monday, January 25th, we were suddenly summoned to the Jegbe, or southernmost palace, lying about twenty minutes of hammock, on a broad open road, beyond the Komasi House. The first thing we remarked were little grass huts, built at intervals of 200 to 300 yards, and the measuring-rope still lay upon the ground; the first was on the right hand of the Komasi Gate. They had pent roofs, with a terminal tuft at each gable, small verandahs, supported by light poles, and the side walls were patterned with lines and lozenges of light-coloured bamboo and “Soyyan,” the thunder fetish shrub. Those nearest the palace were the most decorated. Before each hut, for the two soldiers lodged in it, were planted on four short forked sticks a pair of muskets, lest one should miss fire. During the present custom no discharge of guns is allowed in the town. These Gu-ho, or “tabernacles,” are the lodgings of the Dahoman army when on the line of march; as they extend to Whydah, they must number some 880, and represent a waste of work that would repair all the walls of all the palaces. The bright idea of the “firing play” originated from the Chacha de Souza, who, by stationing men on the road, sent up in an hour or two a cigar from Whydah to King Gezo at Agbome[238]—a rude and barbarous telegraph. Gezo worked it out to its present state; he, however, used to begin his ceremonies at 7 A.M.

Passing Bwe-kon Hwe ’gbo on the right, we debouched upon an open country, with light green fields, to which grazing horses gave a home look. The outskirts of the southern suburb are scattered over with outlying villages of matting, where the principal officers are expected at times to lodge, and here the oil palm-tree begins to show in force. The sun was hot, and the Harmattan blurred the blue horizon line, the floating imperceptible dust doing away with all idea of nearness beyond a hundred yards. The climate is much that of an Egyptian spring, remarkable for flies, dust, and khamsin, the desert wind, here represented by the Harmattan. “Truly rural” was the scene, and the open and healthy site would be far superior for an “English House” to the noise, dulness, and prison-sensation of the town; the main disadvantage, however, is its distance from water. On the left of the road was the Nesu-hwe, or fetish, in which the King sits when on his way to change palaces; white flags were planted in a space railed off with the usual thin bamboo and tie-tie; a heap of speckled pottery lay outside, whilst inside squatted reverend men and women.

After half-an-hour’s march, our chairs were placed beneath a tree opposite, and some 100 yards distant from, a long wall of faded matting. This is Jegbe House, the private abode of the present King when he was heir-apparent; and here he lived during the last few years of his father’s life, cultivating the reactionary party. As Gelele has not yet been confirmed at Allada, the _enceinte_ walls must not be built of mud, and whilst the King lives under matting, so must his nobles.

At 11.30 A.M. we were summoned into the palace interior. The Agwáji Gate led into an oblong court of matting, sprinkled with thick-leaved little fig-trees of vivid green, and divided into two by the usual line of bamboos. At the bottom of the southern half was the royal pavilion, somewhat like a Shahmiyana in Bengal, with an open wing on each side. The sloping roof of the central part, intended for the King, was of gold and lake damask, under two broad strips of red and green satin; the wings, all silk and velvet, were horizontally banded with red, white- edged green, purple and yellow, red and green, in succession, from the top; and where the tongue-shaped lappets started, with chrome yellow. The hangings, playing loosely in the wind, were remarkable chiefly for grotesque figures of men and beasts cut out of coloured cloth and sewn to the lining. At the main entrances seven umbrellas, three figured and four plain white, formed a baldachin for the women, and sheltered an equal number of rude and ricketty little tables. Here also were disposed many calabashes; eight pairs of muskets, each with its Amazon, stood on forks; and in the shade lay a few ancient officers, old babery, in bright silk cloaks and tippets, holding acinaciform bill-hooks. On the men’s side, fronting the King, were five tattered white umbrellas, covering eleven poor tables, and behind them a score of ministers and captains, attired, like the women, in capes and _mantos_ of red, pink, and flowered silks and satins. Chalk-goggled Kpo-fen-sun, head man and head fool, and an assistant Wamba, hideous in a red velvet tobe of Hausa cut, sat on the proper right of the throne, under a bit of matting near the model of a canoe raised on little poles, with three pennons, red, white, and blue. Dancing and singing went on in different parts of the compound, and presently a small party of Ko-si, or _filles de joie_, “for man side” and “for woman side,” all dark and very plain, sang before the royal tent, and walked about amongst the males.

Our chairs were placed before a group of miserables, who had been sitting in the palace since dawn—Mr. Dawson, Pierre, the mulatto “landlord,” of Frenchtown, Whydah, where he was born, and his attendant, an old Brazilian,[239] together with a M. Cirqueira, before alluded to. They were apparently attending upon a pair of half-castes, Antonio de Souza, brother of the Chacha, and Francisco Zangrony, son of a Spanish merchant at Whydah.[240] The latter two had arrived last night at 10 P.M., and at six this morning they had been summoned to the palace.

After we had waited about two hours, an increased noise and hubbub, an uprising of male and female dignities, and a raising of the pavilion flaps, announced the King. He was dressed in a yellow silk toga, with small red flowers; a broad belt of probably false pearls and gold hung from his left shoulder to the right side, and a large crucifix suspended to his neck, were the principal ornaments: in his left hand he held a common hour-glass. After he had deposited himself on the couch acting throne, we saluted him, and he returned the compliment with a large black felt sombrero plentifully braided with gold. He then drank with us all, using a silver mug, which, amongst silver armlets, a rosary, and sundry pieces of plate, stood before him on an old-fashioned table with four metal legs and a red velvet cover. Whilst drinking, a piece of white calico was held up before the royal face.

The ceremonies of the day began with the prostrations and the copious sand-drenchings of three captains, who had quarrelled. They kissed earth as if they loved it, as the popular exile is supposed to do when restored to “native shore.” After long compliments to the King, a woman rose and cried, “A-de-o,[241]” and at 1.40 P.M. the two muskets planted before the King were discharged. The firing was taken up by the rest; it ran round Jegbe, went to and returned from Komasi House in three minutes. Thus Gelele obtained Gezo’s permission to “open the Custom,” and in honour of the occasion he twice drank our healths.

At 2 P.M. another cry of “A-de-o” started the guns to Whydah, which they ought to reach in half-an-hour. The Addu-konun and the Sosu-to[242] walked down a line of cowries placed about six feet outside the dividing bamboo in distinct pairs, enabling the caboceers to ascertain by counting when the firing would arrive at its destination. On the women’s side a weaveress, squatting before the usual artless upright loom of Dahome, made a cloth, and calculated the number of threads—the rudest substitute for a time-piece. Meanwhile the soldier chiefs, Adan-men-nun- kon and Dakua, knelt, looking as usual from the eye-corner to get the cue for time, made obeisance, and, whilst five heralds proclaimed the royal titles with normal blateration, and a jester sprang his kra-kra, or watchman’s rattle, they began a speech, which is bound to last till the discharge returns from Whydah. For a time the tongues bore up bravely; presently the dust and the heat of the sun told upon them; and lastly, the poor devils could hardly from time to time ejaculate a sentence. The firing was an utter failure; an hour-and-a-half had elapsed before a blue bag, passed from hand to hand by the women, was placed, fronting the King, as a trophy from Whydah. There will be stick for this.

Gelele, having again drunk with us, then summoned by name his Gau—who responded “W’e!”—and began a stale and dreary allocution touching Abeokuta and his father’s grave, preparation for war, and his resolve that the Min-gan should treat as a captive any soldier disgracing herself by hanging back. Eight old women, the ghosts of the kings, presently marched up, solemn and slow, paying their respects to live royalty.

Ensued a terrible hubbub, drumming, talking, and singing, which told my now practised ears that victual was about to appear. Presently women moved out the bamboo, and spread mats before the King; whilst long lines of slave-girls deposited upon them dishes of cates, plates of food, bottles of liquor, baskets and calabashes marked with the royal brand. There was a great number of barbecued piglets, which were easily lifted with the thumb and two fingers. Amidst a prodigious noise, the provision was parcelled out. We received a share that gladdened the hearts of our hammock-men; they little recked that the roasted-whole of to-day would right soon diminish to a porker’s nose for thirty, their number.

This ceremony was initiated by Gezo, although the custom of spreading a table[243] is common along the West African coast. At the end of the funeral customs, especially in the Old Calabar River, a small house is built upon the beach, and in it are placed the valuables possessed by the departed—some whole, and others broken,—statues, clocks, vases, porcelains, and so forth, together with a bed, that the ghost may not sleep upon the floor, and a quantity of food upon the table. Here, on the fourth day after the burial, come all who have assisted in the ceremony; they wash their faces, and enjoin the departed ghost, by the care with which he has been provided with what he loved in life, not to let or injure them.[244] Similarly in Europe, during the last century, when princes lay in state, a well-garnished table was provided for the dead in the chapel.

On Tuesday, January 26th, we were again called to the palace, where we found little novelty. The King, wishing to “talk Abeokuta,” summoned his three senior military officers, and finding all absent, sent for them. I expected a scene; the “Monster of Dahome,” however, contented himself, after haranguing the defaulters, with ordering the people to greet each with cries of “Agbwere![245]”

Then took place the ceremony of declaring war. The King sent out a small knapsack-shaped leather case, containing rum, to the Min-gan, who, after passing the strap over his head, pirouetted three or four times before “the presence,” and forwarded the article by a messenger to the Gau. This dignitary received it with an immense show of enthusiasm; and after a fighting speech, rushed affectedly to the gate, crying to the outsiders that war-rum had been given. The King, summoned by his subjects, came forth in a mauve cloth, and, to their uproarious delight, addressed them in Fanti, “Egyá Mák-’yo”—Father, good morning!—meaning, that when such words were spoken, he must attack the Egbas. Then taking a crooked stick, he performed two decapitation dances and retired, after handing the weapon to his followers, who fervently imitated him. It was nearly 9 P.M. before we reached our quarters.

At 8 A.M., Thursday, January 28th, the two wives for the Chacha of Whydah and José dos Santos were despatched to the coast. This is the principal ceremony of “Firing from Whydah,” and the women must not quit their hammocks, which are carried by the live telegraph, till, half dead with fatigue, they reach Whydah. Nothing was to be seen but two plain- faced slave girls, in broad-brimmed straws and country cloths, sitting their hammocks in the old fashioned style of Bowdich and Dupuis, crossways, and holding to the pole instead of lying at full length.

The ceremonies concluded hastily; the King was hurried by a curious appearance in the sun, visible only through the opaque Harmattan air when about 30 deg. above the horizon. At 4 P.M., January 27th—we first remarked it on that day—a spot, like a black pin’s head upon the yellow surface, occupied nearly the centre of the globe; it gradually shifted upwards and to the right in the morning, the reverse, of course, appearing in the evening. It was not seen after February 3rd, but the dense morning fogs, and the thick evening mists and smokes, may have hid it from us. The Kew Observatory noticed it.

On Saturday, January 30th, a report reached Agbome, that a Mr. Craft,[246] the mulatto agent for the new “Company of African Merchants” (limited), had arrived at Whydah, and forthwith appeared a batch of samples and stuffs which the King had ordered. The Buko-no on the same evening proposed that Mr. Bernasko should at once leave us and superintend the loading of the valuables, whilst we, being “great men”—“soft sawder,” as usual, to _dorer la pillule_,—must wait for a more ceremonious dismissal. These people, who expect much from traders but little from servants of Government, make no secret of preferring those who pay to those who do not.[247] My reply was, that Mr. Bernasko’s departure would be the signal for mine, even if we must walk to Whydah. Wishing to change the system of dismissal, I had fortunately reserved for the hour of need all the small presents which had been brought for the high officials, and which are usually given immediately after arrival.

Seeing little chance of immediate departure, I redoubled my efforts to penetrate for a few marches northwards, where the lovely hills of Makhi were a perpetual eyesore to me. The late King relaxed the usual Dahoman severity in matters of ingress, giving escorts to Dr. Dickson, the fellow-traveller of Clapperton, and to Mr. Duncan, afterwards H.B.M. Vice-Consul. His son, on the contrary, has shut up all the roads, lest strangers should learn something about the interior, and perhaps assist his enemies; by thus standing fast and firm against any semblance of innovation, he hopes, perhaps, to hold his own, even in opposition to white men, whose superiority he never questions. He promised that, on my return, I should penetrate into the mountain-land: pleaded want of time and troops, and consoled me by the suggestion that I was too important a personage to be risked in the bush. This was not wholly “blarney”; any accident to the “King’s stranger” would be looked upon as a dire and portentous occurrence.[248]

We had now spent nearly six weeks in Agbome without being allowed to deliver the message of Her Majesty’s Government in person to the King. The latter was therefore informed, that until some respect was paid to my instructions, I should not again appear at the palace. An opportunity of proving that my words were spoken in earnest soon presented itself. When sent for on February 6th, to witness the distribution of cloth amongst the soldiers who had been firing to Whydah, I objected to leave the house. Mr. Cruikshank, however, attended, and saw the presentation of 470 cloths, each fourteen yards long, and here worth about two dollars each. Thereupon the Buko-no informed the Reverend, that after five days, which here means the fourth (Saturday the 9th) we should be summoned to deliver the Message, and be instantly “passed.[249]” We could not, however, rely upon the truth of a word that fell from the holy man’s lips.

On February 8th an official letter from Commodore Wilmot informed me that a cruiser was waiting for my conveyance to the Oil Rivers of the Bight of Biafra. This rendered strong measures necessary. The thirty porters for whom I had applied had been forgotten, and further delay appeared probable. On the morning of February 9th, our boxes and bags were produced, and were ostentatiously packed in the compound, whilst Messrs. Bernasko and Dawson repaired to the palace with a message, that unless faith was kept with me, I must set out on the next day. They witnessed one of the royal _boutades_. The high ministers, when summoned by the King, did not appear within a satisfactory time: Gelele reproached them violently for not living, according to his _arrêt_, close to the Jegbe, and ordered his Amazons to take up the Bamboos, and to drive them with blows and curses from his presence. They went out like beaten hounds, and cowered at the gate, whilst the King sent a message to me apologizing for not attending to our affairs, as rage would prevent his sleeping.

On February 11th, Mr. Dawson was “passed.” He swore sacrament that he would never again show face at Agbome; but being a prudent man, he contented himself with the Fanti proverb, “Cross the river before you speak ill of the crocodile.” The ceremony of breaking glasses to conclude the Customs now took place. I was surprised to hear that it is considered the real European mode of ending a feast; it must date from old times, when three-bottle men drank only in the evening, not throughout the day as do modern sobrieties. The missionaries, when sent for to the Jegbe Palace, found, in the central space between the men and the women, a table, with two flasks of rum and liqueur, flanked by plates and glasses. The King, having drunk with his visitors to the health of his father’s ghost, directed a Portuguese mulatto, a resident at Agbome, to pray in Lusitanian tongue for the departed. This done, Gelele spilt a few drops of rum upon the ground, again imbibed, and dashed his glass upon the table. It was a signal for all those present to do the same, and the attendants smashed everything, including the tables.

This terminated the Khwe-ta-nun, or yearly Customs for 1863-4.

[Footnote 237: This festival in its entirety is known to the natives as Azan’gbe—birthday to-day. The King keeps his birthday once a year, not once per week as his brother of Komasi, and the day is mostly a matter of guess.]

[Footnote 238: The forwarding of presents, however, from town to town is common in Yoruba, and the Egbas call it Asingba. It is the “Banghey dawk” of Africa.]

[Footnote 239: Known as To (father, _scil._, his father), do (speaks), nun (thing), ’gbo (true, opposed to Vú, a lie; _e.g._, Nun boe!—it is true; Nun vue!—it is false).]

[Footnote 240: Years ago Zangrony _père_ disputed about canoe-men with the Rev. T. B. Freeman, formerly Wesleyan missionary to these parts, and died a few days afterwards. Of course his mishap was attributed to the “god-man’s” wrath.]

[Footnote 241: For Adios, good-bye, a word everywhere used on the Coast till superseded by English.]

[Footnote 242: Addu (tooth, teeth), and konun (laugh). The other name is Sosu (proper name), and to (father),—that is to say, Sosu’s father.]

[Footnote 243: That the manes of the dead may eat and be filled. Here it is called by the natives Agban (profit), du (eating), do men (on the ground). Agban also signifies luggage, a ship’s cargo, meats of all kinds, and so forth; whilst Agban-du, or profit-eating, is our spend- thrifting, meaning that these funeral expenses are ruinous to all but the King.]

[Footnote 244: See under the word Nqueme, in the valuable dictionary of the Efik language, published by the Rev. Hugh Goldie. Dunn and Wright, Glasgow, 1862.]

[Footnote 245: You are a fool! or, You have spoiled it!]

[Footnote 246: The “Iwe Irohin,” or Abeokuta paper of July, 1863, introduced him as having been “sent to Dahomy with a view to inducing the King to abandon human sacrifices, and to encourage legitimate trade.”]

[Footnote 247: So Commander Forbes complained of being kept waiting outside the palace when the slave-dealers were in consultation with King Gezo.]

[Footnote 248: See Mr. Duncan, vol. ii. p. 263. The King gave him an escort of 100 men, and told the Ashanti envoy, who wished to make mischief, that he might take back the royal present, a gold-hilted sword, and inform his father that all the gold in the country would not induce himself to intercept an Englishman.]

[Footnote 249: This is an old custom of the empire; no visitor can leave the King without his especial permission. In 1772, Mr. Norris was “passed” with a present consisting of a fat sheep, an anker of brandy, and five cabess of cowries.]