Chapter XVI

ADDO-KPON, THE BUSH KING’S SO-SIN CUSTOMS.

SECTION A.

_Of Addo-kpon, the Bush King._

One of the Dahoman monarch’s peculiarities is, that he is double; not merely binonymous, nor dual, like the spiritual Mikado and the temporal Tycoon of Japan, but two in one. Gelele, for instance, is King of the city, Addo-kpon[82] of the “bush”; that is to say, of the farmer folk and the country as opposed to the city. So the late Gezo’s _alter ego_ was Ga-kpwe.[83] This country ruler has his official mother, the Danh- li-ke; his Min-gan, or chief executioner the Wimekho; and his Meu, or master of ceremonies, the Awesu, father of the Whydah Yevo-gan. His palace is at Akpwe-ho, a village on the road to Aja, about six miles to the south-west of Agbome; as it is still built of matting and will not be made of swish until Abeokuta is taken, I was not permitted to see it. The house is furnished with male and female officers, eunuchs, and wives, besides which, criminals and victims[84] are set apart at the Customs. Thus Dahome has two points of interest to the ethnologist—the distinct precedence of women, and the double king.

Our travellers are wholly silent upon the subject of this strange organization.[85] I presume that the duplicate was invented of late years to enable the King to trade like that Farmer Monarch—

“Who rams and cows and lambs and bullocks fed.”

Sinmenkpen (Adahoonzou II.) first assumed the direct monopoly of commerce which his forefathers had held ignoble, but his successors dropped it. It cannot be now said of Dahomans—

“They have a king who buys and sells,”

and yet Addo-kpon derives all the advantages of the industry of the palace, in which many things, as pottery, pipes, mats, and cloths, are manufactured and monopolized.

SECTION B.

_The Nun-kpon ’gbe Addo-kpon-ton,[86] or First Day of the Bush King’s
So-sin Customs._

On Monday, January 4th, 1864, we resumed the labours of “pleasure,” without which, some one has truly said, life would be very endurable.

At two P.M. we passed through the city gate, where we were disgusted by seeing the corpses still sitting and suspended. It was a hideous spectacle, the turkey-buzzards picking at—but I will spare the reader’s feelings: suffice it to say, even our hanging in chains was not more barbarous.

We were somewhat late: as the parasol showed, royalty had already taken its station. Whilst bowing to the King, we were informed that he wished us again to “fight for cowries,” and, like himself, to dance before the people. I excused ourselves rather to see how he would treat the matter; peeled finger-tips and a sprained _annularis_ on a previous occasion had interfered with my writing, about which he was most anxious; moreover, the drivers had again ousted us, thus spoiling another night’s rest. The ministers made the usual difficulty about delivering the Message, but an answer came back at once. The King knew that white men do not “wrestle for shells,” but that having admired my “bravery” and cunning—I had rolled the Reverend over—he was desirous of seeing it again. Under the circumstances, however, I must not fight, but receive cowries from him at once. As regards the dancing, he had promised to show the lieges his white friend’s performance, and he hoped that they might not be disappointed. What answer could be made to a reply so amiable?

We found a small concourse of people, and about two dozen men were kneeling before an equal number of baskets containing cowries. The subject of the palaver was the eternal Abeokuta. Adan-men-nun-kon came to me, and in a loud tone declared that I had fought well for cowries, and was a strong man, like my company, the Blues. Whereupon the King called me up to the bamboos, and with _force complimens_ presented me with two heads, which I carried off amidst the applause of the people. Mr. Cruikshank and the Reverend were similarly honoured. A little excitement was caused by two men being severally hustled off to prison, whilst the new Ajyaho stood up and explained their offence. They began life as common soldiers, and had risen to be captains. Receiving on this occasion no cowries, they had sent three impertinent reminders by the chief ministers to say that they were in the presence; whereas the King is the King, and does with his own what he wills. These men were greedy, and must be punished accordingly. After which Gelele dismissed the speakers for making too much noise. They carried off their cowries, the males “presenting arms” with muskets, the women with sticks and knives.

Then we had for three hours, without intermission, the usual Amazon dance and song, chorus and solo, with the whole _corps de ballet_, and several _pas de deux_, ending in _prestissimo_ movements very fatiguing. The King himself tapped a fast measure on a little tom-tom, and when his officers pointed out this to us, we rose and bowed, whilst those around presented arms, and royalty acknowledged the salutation with a small crooked stick. Gelele made a speech about Abeokuta, when the Bo-chio figures appeared, for a short time, and the normal patrol, a band with skull-flags and drums, passed up the square.[87] The Amazons then sang a song of disgrace for those who would not fight, and a pair of Ursine dances concluded with a ferocious allocution by the Po-su. At the end of this scene the women knelt and clapped hands before Gezo’s ghost.

Presently the caboceers approached the bamboos, and reclined on the ground whilst the King again addressed them. A favourite captain, the Toffa, had lately died, and another was to be promoted to his post. Some of the ministers had proposed one of the royal brothers as heir, but the King had replied, that although “Tanistry” may be lawful, it is still the will of Mau (God) that when the sire dies the son should inherit. Another Toffa was then elected, with the usual ceremonies.

When nearly dark, we were dismissed. The hammock men rushed frantically past the place of execution to escape its terrible atmosphere.