Chapter IX: Section D: The Be-du-’gbe,94 or Third Day of the Bush King’s So-sin Customs

Operations began at 7 A.M. on January 6th, when the King sent us four baskets of akkara, or bean-cake yellow with palm-oil, and four pots of ahan-vo[95]—“red liquor,” or native beer. His father brewed with maize, but being a Diomedes, holding himself superior to his sire, he employs for the purpose “white man’s rice.” The produce is rhubarb-coloured, subacid, anything but “bub,” weak but wholesome and refreshing.

Our old host, of whose meddling propensities we had every day to complain, visited us at 8 A.M., when we knew that nothing would be done before noon, and authoritatively ordered us breakfastless to the palace, for which he was, of course, ejected. Formerly English strangers were lodged with the Meu, whom they found an intolerable stickler for etiquette. Thence they were transferred to the Buko-no, and now the King should be directed to build for them a private house; meanwhile lodging them with the Prince Chyudaton.

At 10 A.M., in no very placid state of mind, we made for the palace. The nine dead bodies had been removed after the fourth day of exhibition, and in their stead were eight others, whose limp limbs showed that they had lately met their doom. Four were hanging head downwards on single gallows; a pair, one above the other, was seated, in their rude San Benitos, on a rough scaffolding; and two were lying prone upon horizontal planks raised on poles twenty feet high, with their heads protruding from salt-bags of the common matting. We were again assured that all were criminals and captives, and that the two last mentioned had been thus grotesquely laid out for stealing the King’s salt—which was probable. A little beyond the bodies, the top of a conical tent of crimson cloth, a smaller Tokpon, intended for the King’s nightly lodging, protruded from a mat fence covered with sadly tattered cloths.

Instead of dismounting at the south-eastern angle of the palace, we rode behind our host—who, by-the-bye, had declared that whilst he did not dismount we should[96]—to the thin-shadowed tree before the Komasi Gate. Then we were fronted, as usual, by a semicircle of men and boys; and sundry of the caboceers came to greet us with “mawnin’.[97]” One of them, the Gbe-wedo, wanted remedies for a bad Guinea-worm. A medical man visiting Agbome has no holiday; every twenty-four hours he will find a fresh but a feeless case; and if he wants “practice,” he has only to provide himself with what drugs and instruments the limited dispensaries of the West African Coast allow. On the ground at each side of the palace entrance were four heads, recently removed; this time they were almost hidden behind little fences of grass. Thus the total number of deaths for Addo-kpon, the Bush King, were sixteen, whereas Akhosu Gelele, the City King, slew twenty-three; and a total of thirty-nine lives were forfeited during the So-sin Customs of Agbome, in 1863-64.

At 10.45 A.M. we entered the palace, and found the larger Tokpon pitched and surrounded with white cloth. Few spectators had assembled, and the Ken-tin, or chief singer, occupied the centre of the yard, with nineteen men kneeling behind him in two rows. He wore thimble-horns, a crimson velvet cloak, like a caballero in the days of Gil Blas, and a scarlet loin-cloth; he held the insignia of his order, a silver-mounted sword, a bard’s staff, and a large black-horse tail. As the ceremony, which was almost the same as the Display of the King’s Poverty lengthily described on January 2nd, began earlier this day, the King entered at 11.45 A.M. He was habited in a toga of blue and yellow tartan, and a green velvet toque, with two horizontal stripes of silver lace; his principal ornament was a necklace of cut and stained glass set in Mosaic gold, and worth a few shillings. He came up, affably shook hands and snapped fingers with us, and told me to write down everything seen on that occasion—which I will not do. The whole affair was mean in the extreme. The ministers and captains, male and female, paraded as before; but this being the Bush King’s fête, they were fewer in number, and not so richly attired as before. Baskets of cassava were as usual distributed to the crowd, and there was no want of provaunt in the palace—its only merit.

Before entering the yard, the King had sent a message to ask me if I had any objection in joining the display. My reply was, by no means, if he wished it, and would allow us to walk by ourselves under parasols, which are not permitted to the lieges. He freely consented, and with all ceremony we circumambulated, in uniform, and with our head-decorations and singer’s staves, the palace-yard from left to right, and not regarding the throne as we passed the entrance. The bands of women in the pavilion, and of men outside, frantically greeted us with cries of _Yevo!_—the whites! After the third round we formed up in line and bowed to the King, who was sitting upon a raised daïs with a clear approach lined with bottles of liquor, calabashes of food, and the women of the palace. He took up a fine gold-laced Spanish broad-brim,[98] and sending out six flasks of Curaçoa and other liqueurs, pledged us all in turn.

The procession was succeeded by terribly lengthy speeches from the Adanejan and the Gan, who complimented Gelele upon having so worthily performed his Customs in the presence of white men. The addresses were concluded amidst loud exclamations of _Un ’so!_ “I answer you,” and _Yati!_ meaning, in Fanti, “I have heard,” the haranguers raising arms and forefingers. These people have certainly practised as much as any American politician the art of public speaking; they can talk for an hour without saying anything.

At 3.15 P.M. the “wealth” began to pass, and terribly slow was this part of the proceedings. The King attempted to lighten our labour by sending us liquor, water, fruits, and a Moslem sweetmeat called Du-du-kwia, an African imitation of the Arabian Halwa.[99] Baskets of provisions and cowries were brought in great numbers from the palace, and most of the caboceers had complicated dinners carried by their wives and slave- girls. The smallest gift from the King was received with cries of “Wé!” This was well; the royal hand is looked to, not the value of what it out-deals. We were not provided with “pass-rum” before darkness came on, and as we hurried housewards, the light railings along the road told us that the indefatigable King’s labours had by no means ended. Firing of guns disturbed the night, gin and rum were distributed, and cowries were thrown; this we learned next morning, when a patient came with a finger badly bitten in the struggle.

SECTION E.

_The E na-nyin hun,[100] or Fourth Day of the Bush King’s So-sin
Customs._

We listened to Hope’s flattering tale about a holiday, but at 2.15 P.M., on January 7th, we were unexpectedly summoned to the palace. The Tokpon and the human heads had been removed from the entrance sides, nor was there any connecting splotch of blood. Eight men danced on the male side, the bamboos were then extended, when seven women, a small girl, and a mistress of ceremonies in the rear, began to perform. As the sun was sinking low, the King left his shed with a _peloton_ of fifty wives, holding a singer’s staff, and shaded by a red-and-green parasol; after adjusting his toga, he bowed to the tent occupied by his father’s ghost. He sang to a male band, whilst the women joined in the chorus, and then he inverted the process. The gist of the chant was, that miserable are the sires of poor men who cannot honour them with offerings of wo- pudding and greens in silver-mounted calabashes, such as Gezo was now receiving. The sentiment was heard with the “khé” and the “Ububu” on both sides. Six women then joined the King in singing and dancing. After repeated performances to honour Gezo, Gelele presented us with half a loaf of sugar and a basket of salt, for which we returned thanks. The King presently sang in praise of his visitors, and danced repeated solos. When this ended, a general ballet of women tumultuously advanced amidst numerous discharges of guns, lasting till darkness came on. Mr. Bernasko was then summoned to play “music” before royalty, but his sweet sounds were drowned in negro noise. At last silence was obtained, and the Meu, addressing us by our names, informed us that the morrow would be a day of rejoicing, when both Akhosu and Addo-kpon would fire guns to show that the days of mourning and punishment had gone by, and that all who had attended the Customs would be “passed” with presents. He also conveyed to us the royal wish that we should come early, as all ministers caught napping are heavily fined, and—the crafty oldster had served under three sovereigns—he privily warned his colleagues that the Englishman, being a “King’s man,” would be before them all, and thus get them into trouble. But they scoffed at him, and said, “These whites, before they can leave the house, must bathe, and dress, and drink tea; with them ‘early’ means after sunrise.”

During the night, the old King’s ghostly tent, the corpses, and both the So-sin sheds, were removed. The place looked charming as before:—Nature, serenely fair, wore upon her lovely face an ironical smile at what she had witnessed amongst her sons.[101]

SECTION F.

_The So-debwe[102]—Fifth and Last Day of the So-sin Customs._

I awoke my people at 4 A.M. on January 8th, and before 5 we were seated in front of the palace. Our old host had not slept that night, lest we should give him the slip, and we found but one minister, the Abwejekun, waiting to receive us. The early gong-gong men, one with a brass bell, the other with a cymbal, apparently of silver, and both double instruments, were standing at the gate, striking first the long and the short tube, and reciting the “strong names” of the King and his ancestors. As each lingering caboceer appeared, we tolled a large bell, brought up from Whydah by Mr. Bernasko, and gave him a glass of gin, with the solemn promise of reporting him to royalty, who had been made aware by messenger of our arrival. All replied that great men do not sleep at night,[103] and with comical ruefulness resigned themselves to their fate.

The early morning at Agbome is full of beauty. As the “grandmother and grandchildren[104]” waxed faint in the south, a lovely roseate blush overspread the pale cheek of the eastern firmament, the earth’s ruder forms were enveiled in soft gauzy blue, and the cool refreshing zephyr—

“The sweet first breathings of the hour of prime.”

—the “respiration of morn,” as the Persians call it, made distant music amongst the tree-boughs.

At dawn about 200 male guards issued from the palace. The several companies, under their captains, take this duty by turns; they pass their nights in the Podoji, or yard, and by day they are relieved by the Amazons. During Customs time they are more numerous than usual. Each troop, as it passed us with flags and bands, halted and discharged guns and blunderbusses, which were responded to within the palace. The ministers also fired: they must be careful this day; if their weapons do not behave well, the King reprimands them publicly, and perhaps fines them.

At 6 A.M. we were conducted by the Meu to the palace gate, which was still closed. We were placed in front of all the ministers, whom we had outranked by early rising, and as they made obeisance, we salámed to the Sublime Porte. We then turned to a band of drums and cymbals behind us, and, in company with the Meu and Chyudaton, we performed a little prancing in Dahoman style.

Shortly afterwards the large umbrellas were disposed under the King’s shed, and at 7 A.M. Gelele, with a knot of she-soldiery, stalked under his parasol to his accustomed place. We were at once summoned, thanked, and complimented for having paid due honour to royalty—in this country punctuality is _not_ the politeness of princes. Behind us the delinquent ministers lay on the ground backed by the “Don-pwe people,” to whom in such cases all the caboceers are committed for punishment. The sole exceptions are the Min-gan and the Meu, who in case of delinquency are prevented from entering their homes.

The Buko-no then lengthily and eloquently related our exploit, and reported the Yevo-gan and Prince Chyudaton as in fault. They looked at me with a jocose deprecation, and covered their heads with dust, whilst the “Don-pwe” struck up a loud uproarious song, ending in a laughing chorus, to deride the late men. The fat Adanejan, unhappily for himself, joined us, and was added to the list; all laughed as he stretched out the hand of deprecation towards the “small young men.” I then invoked for these offenders the royal pardon, especially mentioning the old Meu, whose warning had been neglected. The King, however, replied, that they were in the hands of justice, from which even he could not save them, and that they must sleep abroad and be fined in rum for preferring to his service the bed and the “kicksey-wicksey.” Nothing could be said against this slight penalty, and I was pleased with the opportunity of proving to the ministers that in more important matters they might fight a losing battle.

The two captains who had been locked up for shameless asking, now received formal pardon, which they acknowledged by a dust-bath. Adanejan was then made chief of the Ganchya drum, whose black head and brown body rendered it conspicuous amongst the women’s band; he also, after removing his necklaces, vigorously shovelled up earth. The King sent to inform us that as it was too late to hear all the songs, he would at once “pass” the singers and drummers, and then dismiss us to breakfast. A bard, with official staff, then came forward and sang—

Gezo was a forest in which wild beasts (viz., his subjects) dwelt
securely,

And now Gezo has left to his son that forest.

The performer presently retired, and with his brethren danced a round before the King.

The Blue and Fanti Companies thereupon received each a maiden flag of white croydon, which is to bear their honours when they shall have won them. The King sent to me a message that I must return in time for the next Customs; my reply was that in such matters everything depended upon orders from home. This elicited many flattering expressions, which ceased only when the Gau arose and swore with violent gesticulation that Abeokuta—the word wearies me!—must be taken this year, with a Kpwe- to[105], or, as the Arabs say, with a Katl-am, or general massacre. The Commander-in-Chief then called me up, and we performed together a short _pas de deux_, with left shoulders forward, corresponding arm akimbo, and ditto leg in the air. The Adan-men-nun-kon seconded the prophecy, and the Mafro, an old caboceer, declared that when a wound is healed men see the scar, meaning that on my return I should find the Egba capital “broken,” and her people captives.

These speeches were mingled and concluded with singing, dancing, drumming, and all manner of interruptions. By way of varying the sameness, I gave a wine-glass of water instead of gin to a Klan or jester-soldier, who was making all laugh by counterfeiting, and well too, the dying agonies of a wounded man, by pretending to weep, and by uttering wild cries, with similar savage facetiæ. He carried it in triumph to his chief, without whose leave it could not be tasted; and presently a loud Yep! yep! yep! from the crowd—so utterly different from the hearty English Ha! ha! ha!—proclaimed the success of the trick. The King, when informed of it, was abundantly amused, and the poor fool was told that he must be punished for taking the glass. I replied that a jester, who could not distinguish gin from water, deserved a mild discipline; and the fellow exclaimed ruefully, “Preserve me from drinking with _you_: you first give me the wrong stuff, and then you get me a whipping!”

The women presently danced, sang, and drummed, and the she-Gau sent to inform me that when a weight is too heavy for one, two may lift it; meaning that the Blue and Fanti Companies were sure of victory. The Ji- bi-whe-ton, or second in command of the latter, came out from the ranks and exclaimed, the Yevo (albus) has now heard us talk, he shall presently see our deeds. A fire for cooking must be made slowly,[106] not so when one would burn an enemy’s town.

Meanwhile the ministers of both sexes had invested themselves in their long Hausa tobes of ceremony. The Dakros placed in their hands divers bundles of cloths, which were severally unfolded and held out horizontally by the dignitaries. The recipients were called up according to precedence of rank or merit; each shouted, “Wé!”—Adsum!—and rushed forwards with affected hurry, capering as in childish glee. They knelt down, with one hand on the head, whilst the ministers passed the cloth plaid-fashion over their right shoulders and under their left arms. They then returned and sat in batches. When the largesse was all distributed, the two Meus of both sexes again called out the names of those whom the King had honoured, and told them that they had “got pass.” During the whole proceeding the women sang a chorus, and as each fresh cloth made its appearance they greeted it with the Khe-cry, and the men with loud Ububus. Followed dances on both sides of the bamboos.

Meanwhile the King’s smoker stood up before the throne. He was a black youth, in an ochre-stained kilt, with a pigtail of sombre-coloured cotton, and he used a long stem ending in a bowl as big as a cocoa-nut. The office is one of the true African fantasticals, and the favoured man is supplied from the royal pouch.

It was then our turn. When summoned, I went up hurriedly, according to “etiquette”: it was past 8 A.M., and the sun was fierce, but the King could not alter the custom and direct me to wear a hat. After being addressed by the Meu, I was invested with a handsome cloth, of palace manufacture—green, red, and yellow cotton; by formula it is called a “counterpane,” and the King tells the presentee that it is meant for his bed.[107] Mr. Cruikshank and the Reverend, the boy Tom, and the Buko-no, were similarly honoured. After half an hour’s candidature for sun- stroke, we bowed our thanks and retreated.

A small party of archers from the Agoni, or northern country, near Makhi, then knelt before the King and dusted themselves. These bush-men also boasted of the aid they would render to the army when attacking Egba-land. Suddenly, as usual, there was a stir. We hurriedly arose and went to the usual shed, where we sat, whilst the palace-women, carrying cowries and rum-bottles, thrice circumambulated the square. When the precious burdens were deposited before the throne we returned to our umbrellas, and the King dispensed with the ceremony of crying out our names and singing whilst we received his gifts. We were presented with twenty heads[108] and as many plates of cowries, with ten bottles of rum from Gelele, to which the mysterious Addo-kpon added an equal quantity. I then was paid five heads for dancing—my first fee of the kind—and my companion’s salary was similar. Finally, two decanters of rum announced the happy moment of dismissal. It was already 11 A.M., but “indecent haste” was forbidden; we followed at a funereal pace, the boys who had been seized by the neck to carry the King’s costly gifts, and no short cuts through the town were permitted by our conductor, So-kun, the “English guide.” On the road we were informed that these were not the grand presents—which, of course, will never come—and consequently that they must be shared with the chief officers. About noon, after a _séance_ of seven hours, we were able to break our fast.

It was past three P.M. when we were summoned to conclude the festivities of the day. We repaired to the Uhun-jro market-place, and we found pitched upon the spot, whence the red victim-shed had been removed, a Do-ho,[109] or little cloth pavilion, intended for the King. It resembled that under which he sat before the Komasi Gate; behind, and connecting it with it, was a mat-tent, for privacy; and in front had been planted a line of five umbrellas to shelter the Amazon officers.

Shortly after we had taken our places on the north of the pavilion, two parties of Moslems, one numbering three, the other four turbands, passed before us. To the left, or southwards, the distance was filled with umbrellas and a dense dark crowd, whilst at times individuals and squads of fetisheers and warriors flitted about the Champ de Mars. The Harmattan wind presently began to blow with violence, raising the red dust from the sun-parched ground—no pleasant preparation for those about to view a Dahoman advance in heavy marching order.

First appeared a line of scouts, bayoneteers, and blunderbuss-men, wearing a substitute for rifleman’s green—in Europe an error, but here “no mistake.” They were habited in kilts, or cap-à-pie suits of freshly- cut palm-leaf; some wore it like a _gloria_ round the head, others had only the breast thatched, and the contrast of the verdure with the black skin was peculiar. This is an old custom of the empire. The “eyes of the force” were escorted by about 200 veterans, the remains of the Grande Armée that had found its Moscow at Abeokuta. They marched in open order like our light infantry skirmishers, and at times halted, knelt, and delivered fire, all the muzzles being of course raised too high. Finally they advanced tumultuously till they reached the northern extremity of the market-place, where they formed line about 500 yards from us.

Then came the royal escort, the main body of the little army, men and boys, about 500 strong. The King, who was in the centre of the battalia, rode a little nag, smoking his usual pipe. He had drawn with gunpowder[110] three broad lines upon his face, one straight from hair to nose, and two curved from ears to nostrils. Everything about him was in gloomiest war-style, the large umbrella was darkest indigo, the small parasol chocolate-brown. Unlike his war-men, he wore over a short white cloth a kilt of cotton stuff, scolloped at the edge, and darkened with goat’s clotted blood and various barks; it was dotted with charms, triangles of darker material, and small feathers protruding from bits of cane. A bronze-coloured fillet encircled his head, and its long ends fell upon his right and left shoulders; from his neck depended a short horse-tail fly-flapper, whilst two of larger size, white and black, hung from his sinister side. Through his belt was stuck a short Dahoman _briquet_, and over his shoulder was a crooked club, spiked at the top, and armed along the point of percussion with a line of large square- headed nails. He wore sandals, and anklets of cowries and black seeds: altogether he looked like “business.”

As we arose and mutually bowed, the King descended, and fired from the hip five guns and carbines, very lightly loaded. He then remounted, and made the three customary rounds of the market-place, followed by a few “salvage-men” in green, fourteen standards, one pink and six white umbrellas, the show-shields, and the skull-drums. The rear-guard consisted of 100 men, accompanying the shabby umbrellas, which here denote soldiery; at times they skirmished in European fashion, with a fire pretty well _nourri_. After the third turn an order, sent to it by means of messengers, who ran bawling along the noisy chattering line, converted the rear into a van, which retired in turn, fraying out in a line of light troops. The King then marched down to the south side of the marketplace, where his parasol showed him to be sitting amongst the women soldiery.

A fetish company of men and boys presently passed us at a run, carrying implements of their craft, huge cressets, crescents of iron hung with cowries, and various images, idols, and _simulacres_, chiefly of the Bo- fetish—a crucified turkey-buzzard of wood with red dots on a white body, another spotted animal encoiled by a snake, and sundry things undescribable. This party also formed up with the veterans, at the northern end of the Uhun-jro space.

It was now the Amazons’ turn to advance, and they came up in better style as regards marching and firing than their brother soldiers. They passed us with a _feu d’enfer_, and when the dust was not flying the smoke hung like a pall upon the ground. The King was followed by unarmed wives, who were fanning their lord and carrying a few weapons for his proper use. The soldiery wore tunics of grey baft, stained brown with blood and barks, covering the bosom and extending to the knees like the men, short drawers, and white sashes hanging to the right. The King dismounted, danced to an “Amazon” band, and again rode thrice round the market-place, followed by his rear-guard singing and firing. After the third turn he walked up to where our umbrella was pitched, and discharging several carbines, he danced a simple morris, called Hun- gan,[111] before a semicircle of armed women, who were chanting and cheering him lustily. After this, he took from one of his head fetishmen, a fine tall priest, with Abyssinian features, a crooked club, covered with blue and black cloth, and ringed with Indian cowries, and he performed another saltation. Then, holding my wrist, Gelele led me out, and we danced opposite each other amidst tempestuous applause. On this occasion the King expects strangers not to refuse him; I therefore had the honour of executing a very notable decapitating movement. Mr. Bernasko, as a “god-man,” was excused, and a slight fever had detained Mr. Cruikshank at home; the performance, therefore, did not last long. The King, after dancing, turned round and drank from a small case- bottle, or decanter, with the usual noise and averting of faces on the part of his subjects. I observed that before putting it to his lips he allowed a few drops to fall upon the ground. This is not an oblation to the gods as in ancient Europe, but the offering to ancestors, especially to the paternal ghost, as made by the Chinese. Gelele showed me all his fetish sticks, requesting that they might be sketched, and presently retired to his little pavilion, where the scouts coated in grass danced before him. He continued his attentions by sending food and drink at short intervals, till we were surrounded by bottles and calabashes. One gourd contained pomegranates, poor in the extreme, half ripe, bitter, and preponderant in seed and rind. Another calabash, I was told, showed a specimen of his own war-food, bananas, excellent Akansan, powdered red pepper, in an Achatina shell, and a few pods of Malaguetta pepper,[112] which were greedily seized by the Reverend. A massing and scattering of umbrellas far to our left told us that the caboceers were on the move; it was waxing late, and all was hurried. The chiefs were distinguished by the vast variety of charms and amulets hung about their arms, necks, and limbs, and some held a leaf of the Ayyan, or thunder fetish shrub, to prevent their guns bursting. These talismans are intended to create an artificial courage; all peoples having their own peculiar stimuli. The Englishman nerves himself by a sense of duty and hope of profit. The Frenchman by visions of glory, and of late years by a bargain with Heaven that, if spared, he will believe in the Immaculate Conception. The German remembers the Rhine and its “ichor divine.” The Russian thinks of a kind of a demi-god; whilst in southern Europe the true fetish appears in the shape of the cross, the medal, and the relic. The braver Orientals, mostly Moslems, spur themselves by visions of Paradise, and by the prospect of escaping the “Squeeze of the Grave”; and the more cowardly Hindus and Chinese, regarding what is scandalously called Dutch courage, as the spur of heroism, “bhang themselves” accordingly. In many, if not in all, parts of Pagan Africa, the Congo for instance, the negro will not think of fighting without fetishes that will bring him safe out of battle; and even the less timid North American must propitiate imaginary supernatural powers before he sets out to “raise hair.”

The caboceers, like their King, passed round three times.[113] As a rule, skirmishers, flags, and fetish preceded the captain of the party, who walked or rode under his umbrella, whilst a full band and stragglers, all firing heavily, brought up the rear. Each group numbered from 10 to 100 men and boys, and was separated by a short interval from its neighbours.

The ceremony much resembled that of the Entrance Day, but it was far more military; it was the march of the Dahoman army, whereas the other was the triumphal return from war. As sunset approached, the gale increased. The King sent to say that, at a future and more favourable time, I should see another review, and then passed, surrounded by his “Amazons,” to the north of the Komasi Palace. We waited till the ground was clear, and retired—not unwillingly.

The recreant ministers spent the night under sheds at the King’s gate, being forbidden to enter their homes. The punishments of high officials are here very capricious. Dr. M‘Leod mentions a chief magistrate being ordered by the King “not to shave his beard, pare his nails, or wash himself for a certain number of moons, and in this dirty state to sit daily at the palace-gate several hours for public inspection.” This exile continued till 5 P.M. of the next day (January 9th), when royalty was induced to relent by a storm of thunder and rain, the latter falling in peculiar spurts like jets of heavy drops. Agbwejekon, however, the only caboceer who did his duty, was temporarily rewarded with precedence, and was publicly presented with a fine cloth, a wife, and ten heads of cowries. Next time the chiefs will not be outwitted: they will pass the whole night in the square.

I will conclude this chapter with an account of the Dahoman campaign. The King marches in the midst of his host, surrounded by his Amazons. At the halt, a mat enclosure is made for him and them. The royal quarters, known by their superior size, are pitched far from the rest, and beyond danger of ambush. The males camp promiscuously in little huts. They move at all hours, generally by night, guided by captives kidnapped from the place about to be plundered; these men are disguised, tied up, and led in the rear; and after returning to the capital, they are released with presents. As may be imagined, not a few of them desert, to the great peril of the invader. A few soldiers in the garb of traders, with cloth and tobacco, precede and accompany the force to attract stragglers, who are at once kidnapped. The army advances by circuitous ways, cutting its own roads through the bush; a favourite plan is to spread false reports about the intended direction, and to double round upon a town which has heard that the foe has passed onwards. Great circumspection is ordered when nearing the destination; no talking is allowed, though the soldiers may snap fingers; and even smoking is forbidden. The point of attack is secretly reconnoitered by a chosen spy during the day. They surround the fated place so cautiously, that it is often taken unawares; and they assault, as usual amongst barbarians, before dawn, with a rush, uttering hellish cries and yells. The only village defences are prickly plants, and these the troops are trained to despise. Any one appearing is at once decapitated[114]; when weapons are thrown down, the prisoners are tied up; their arms, however, are not pierced for cords, as asserted by the Egbas. As a rule, their object is to capture, not to kill; only the old, the sick, and the “unmerchantable” lose their heads, which serve as trophies. The chiefs are reserved for public sacrifice. When the town is broken, the conquerors raise in the centre a clay-heap, which is girt with dry palm-leaf; the wretched fugitives may, after returning to their ruined homes, place some of this material upon their necks, and appear before the King, who then spares their lives. The army, even if victorious, hurries back, after losing for every 100 prisoners some 200 of their own men by famine, fatigue, and privations, many of them self- inflicted. During the whole campaign, even if it last six months, the warriors may not remove their tunics for ablution. The marching-food is scanty and poor enough to cause scurvy, and a single calabash of water must often suffice for three days. We cannot wonder that the host is decimated by disease, especially by small-pox.

The present ruler has lately made a huge “gong-gong,” a main tube or cone crowned with thirty-nine small bells, denoting the number of towns which he has broken. But all these towns would doubtless fit into a middling-sized English village. It is amusing to hear the wild boasts of the captains; one man has 40,000 followers, another thinks he has 16,000—remove the last two or three ciphers, and the remainder may be correct. On the other hand, it is curious to consider the inconsequence of those attacked, who, as I have said, after deliberately insulting and provoking a quarrel with the King, will make no preparations for war; in fact, will never think of the matter till they hear the death-cry at their doors, and they find themselves hurried to Agbome, where they will grace the next Customs.

In a previous volume,[115] I have described the warfare of the Egbas. It is pitiful enough, but that of the Dahomans is worse. There is nothing more contemptible than these negro slave-hunts: the “mild Hindu,” as the Field of Paniput and many others may prove, has shown himself by far a better soldier than the West African. Individually, the Dahoman dares not desert upon the march, but he “malingers” readily, and he is so far from being brave that the idea of amputation makes him faint with fear. The decay of the old kingdom, and the deterioration of blood, are not to be mistaken.

[Footnote 82: Addo (the light yellow Popo bead, which does not melt in the fire), kpon (see!). It must not be confounded with Adda-kpun, or oyster.]

[Footnote 83: Ga (market-day), kpwe (when it comes, _scil._, it must be full).]

[Footnote 84: Some said that the palace shed was the King’s victim depôt, the market shed, Addo-kpon’s: others confined the King’s especial sacrifices to the turret of the market shed. Many men declared that the King’s sacrifices were all captives, Addo-kpon’s all criminals; more denied these distinctions.]

[Footnote 85: Mr. Bernasko (Appendix III.) mentions “Athopon,” which he erroneously translates “hearth, a place in which a fire is made.” All other books ignore the bush king’s existence.]

[Footnote 86: Nun (thing, custom) kpon (we look at) ’gbe (to-day), and Addo-kpon-ton (belonging to Addo-kpon).]

[Footnote 87: This patrol begins at dawn and lasts through the day and night. The African never yet invented an hour, but as the bands perform at nearly equal tri-horal periods, he is here seldom at a loss for finding his time. From 6 A.M. to 8 A.M. is the Ahan-’é, mostly of bone rattles, followed till 11 A.M. by the Broh, rattles and drums. From 11 A.M. till noon is the Gan or Panigan, “gong-gongs,” with heralds recapitulating the titles and exploits of all the Dahoman dynasty; this was established by the present King; Gezo ordered it only once a day, before dawn. From noon to 3 P.M. is the time of the Wime-hun—cymbals and flutes, followed till sunset by the Goawe—mostly drums. From 6.30 P.M. till 9.30 to 10 P.M., the Agbaja, tom-tom, beats; the Kpwen, or horns, sound till midnight, relieved at 3 A.M. by the Akko; finally, the early gun, or “gong-gong,” and the heralds’ work begin at 3 A.M. and end at sunrise. The bands consist generally of a man and four boys. They sit upon mats under a tree, before the palace gate, strike up at times, and accompany the soldiers of the patrol.]

[Footnote 88: Mr. Norris well describes the dancing of the women: “Each had a long tail fixed to her rump, which seemed to be a slip of leopard skin sewed up and stuffed, which, by a dexterous wriggle of her hips, she whirled round like a string with surprising velocity.” Mr. Duncan shows disapproval of the practice, but Mr. Duncan belonged to the respectable class, which “approves of” only its own practices. “Four tall men, singularly dressed, and with bullocks’ tails tied so as to hang over their hips behind, arranged themselves in line in front of his Majesty, and by passing at the side step, lowering and poising the body by the bend of the knee, causing the tail to make a circular motion of a disgusting appearance.” Why “_disgusting?_”]

[Footnote 89: So E! or Hé! in the Egba tongue, is a respectful acknowledgment, like Sir! or Madam! The Ffons sometimes say, Mi-se, we hear, _i.e._, understand.]

[Footnote 90: So in the History (p. 131), Mr. Norris fixed the barrel of the chamber-organ to the _hundred and fourth_ Psalm, at the request, and for the future amusement of his host, “Bossa Ahadi.”]

[Footnote 91: Mr. Duncan (vol. i. p. 255) found it rather a difficult task to dance and to play that “ancient Israelitish instrument”—the Jew’s harp—at the same time.]

[Footnote 92: Who informs us that “when this air is sung quick throughout, it is converted into an exceedingly vulgar jig-tune.”]

[Footnote 93: Yewe (god), nun (side), hun-to (drummer, ship captain, governor).]

[Footnote 94: Be (joy; others say, live thou!), du (eat), ’gbe (to-day, the Happy Day, because it ends the deadly part of Addo-kpon’s Customs). It is also known as Bekpa-men ’gbe; meaning, Bekpa (mat-fence), men (in), ’gbe (to-day: _subaudi_, we will go). Commander Forbes, whose names and “customs” are equally unintelligible, writes (vol. ii. p. 33) “Ekbah-tong-ek-beh,” and translates, “Display of the King’s wealth.”]

[Footnote 95: Ahan (any liquor), and vo (red). Ahan yevo, is “white man’s liquor,” meaning rum.]

[Footnote 96: He did not dismount, to show how high he was in the King’s esteem, who allows this liberty to be taken by his subjects on the “Happy Day” only. He wished us to walk on foot, that the people might see that we were the slaves of the King.]

[Footnote 97: “Good morning.” The people easily pick up a few words of foreign languages, which, however, they can never master.]

[Footnote 98: The old prints in the History, though mostly drawn from imagination, all show the King wearing one of these hats.]

[Footnote 99: A confection of sugar, milk, almonds, spices, &c.]

[Footnote 100: E (he), na-nyin (will pass, _i.e._, release from duty of further attendance), hun (drum, viz., drummers and singers).]

[Footnote 101: As we found from the gathering of the turkey-buzzards for a week afterwards, the corpses were thrown into the town moat, near the Komasi Palace; during the “Atto-year” their place is on the north of the enceinte. They are not disposed of, as Mr. Duncan says, “in a large pit, at a considerable distance from the town.” In all cases their skulls, which here are prized as much as by the Anthropological Society of London, are subsequently removed, and are probably afterwards exhibited as the trophies of heroic deeds.]

[Footnote 102: Meaning “thunder to-day,” so great will be the noise of musketry.]

[Footnote 103: Great men are supposed to transact business at that time.]

[Footnote 104: The Gold Coast name of the Southern Cross.]

[Footnote 105: Kpwe (plenty), and tó (here, there, and everywhere; not to be confounded with tò, the world).]

[Footnote 106: Cuisinely considered, I believe this axiom to be distinctly incorrect.]

[Footnote 107: The custom of presenting a “fine striped cotton cloth,” is found in the History (p. 146), and the “counterpane” is also named.]

[Footnote 108: Or forty shillings. There are always fifty strings of two score shells to the vulgar, and ten less to the royal, “head.” Moreover, the strings are “shroffed,” or “cabbaged,” by the palace women, and must be re-counted. According to the History, three to six were deducted as perquisites from a string of thirty-nine. In Captain Phillips’ time (1694) the King of Whydah gave out cowries in a smaller, and received them in a larger, measure than any of his subjects.]

[Footnote 109: Do (a “bamboo” mat), and ho (a room). Some called it Kpla-kpla.]

[Footnote 110: Not with a charcoal-blackened face, as declared by M. Jules Gérard, Appendix iii.]

[Footnote 111: Hun (drum), and gán (big). My ear can detect no difference between this adnoun and Gán, a captain.]

[Footnote 112: Here called Attakun, whereas Attakín is Cayenne pepper. A present of this Guinea pepper from one soldier to another is considered an insult, hinting that the recipient requires something to heat his blood.]

[Footnote 113: The following list of chiefs who appeared this day is banished to a foot-note:—

1. Advance guard representing royalty, 4 umbrellas, 40 men and boys escorting Agugun and Ayohi, custodians of the palace. 2. The three great ministers of the crown; a large chair, a parrot or fetish image and stick, 3 flags, fancy umbrella (lappets with knives and heads of many- coloured cloth), and 50 men were the “place” of the Min-gan, who was sick. 3. Seven deviced flags, 2 red and black shields, 2 big chairs, 1 blue striped umbrella accompanied the Meu, riding his white nag. Two large chairs, an English and a French flag, a pony, mats, calabashes, 4 men with boarding-pikes, attitudinising an attack, a white umbrella, drums and band, with 4 deviced flags accompanying the Yevo-gan, who danced before us. Then came Addo-kpon, the Bush King’s “place,” a heavy line of razor and musket-men preceding an unridden horse, 2 men and 2 umbrellas, with two flags. Behind Addo-kpon marched the King’s brother and great dignitaries. 1. The new Ajyaho, preceded by fetish sticks of iron, followed by huge stools, 1 flag brown and tattered, 1 deviced, and 1 white and blue, a white umbrella, and an old brown ditto. 2. The Akpulogan, or governor of Ahada, whose escort was very mean, many of his men being absent on service; a head and knife flag, 2 white banners, a horse, and a big stool. 3. The So-gan, with a noisy band, and 1 umbrella, buff and deviced. 4. The Ganze, with similar escort: he is a young man, having been lately promoted. 5. The To-metti, with 2 flags, one white, the other white and blue, and some 50 men; he also has lately succeeded his father, who was one of Gezo’s brothers. 6. The Afarigbe, own brother to Gelele; in his suite 5 men, with hair tightly bandaged in calico, like Fetishmen. 7. The Anlin-wa-nun, with an English flag, his party passing at the double. 8. The Tokpo, with knife and head umbrella. 9. The Bokovo, captain and brother to the late king. 10. The Adanejan, with a party of 150 men firing lustily, red flag and fancy banner, a horse, and in the rear 2 white umbrellas, 1 white pennon and 1 red. He sent compliments to us by one of his slaves, an Ishaggan captive, who looked the personification of mirth. 11. The Bin-wan-ton, with a small party, and umbrella knife and head. 12. The Bi-na-zon under a white umbrella, and a large party, amongst whom were sundry of the present King’s young sons, who fired before us. 13. The Gwe-be-do, or second eunuch. 14. The Buko-no, or King’s magician, attired _en militaire_—blue drawers, tunic with cowries on black ground, straw cap dyed red and supplied with chin-strap, and a small sword stuck in belt, and tomahawk in right hand. He asked me if I had ever seen such a gun (_i.e._, firing) at Abeokuta, and took place by my side. 15. The Attirive, brother to the late king, with 2 umbrellas, 1 white and 1 head and knife. 16. The Aho, another of the blood-royal, followed by three of the princes; he had a blue umbrella, and a fancy blue flag. 17. The Voda, brother to the present king, with a white umbrella. 18. The Nonnovo, who is said to be a woman passing as a man, the eldest daughter of Gezo, and, but for the Salic law of Dahome, his heir to the kingdom. 19. The Tokunonfisan, captain and subject, with an English Union-Jack. 20. The Gofle, a son of the old Meu, also with British flag. 21. The Chyudaton, with a very small party. 22. The Kwenun, before an akhi-gan, or “king’s merchant,” now promoted to captaincy of all traders at Whydah. He is a large fat old man, grotesquely Silenus-like, but not unintelligent. 23. The Men-jo-ten, second caboceer of Ahada, with white umbrella and fancy. 24. The Asogba-hosen, brother to the present King, with a bluish umbrella, and a few attendants, chiefly boys. 25. The Awonyon, with a white umbrella, a fancy flag, an iron stick crescent-topped, and 2 fetish images, one of them black, with a long white unicorn-horn. 26. The Toja, a white umbrella, son to a brother of the late king. 27. The Ahopwe, brother of Gezo, with a head and knife umbrella. 28. The Assogba’u, with very few attendants. 29. The Enekpehun, another brother of Gezo, with a blue and white umbrella. 30. The Nuage, a brother of the present king. 31. Bosu-sau, on horseback, with white umbrella and bluish flag. 32. The Nuase, a knife and head umbrella. 33. The Metokal, a white umbrella. 34. The Vinyi-hun-to. 35. The Ajewanun, a French tri-colour. 36. The Khwechiri, a Whydah captain. 37. The Nolufren, ditto. 38. The Mecho-nun. 39. The Bokpwe, a white flag. 40. The Ganzu. 41. The Adan- vokun. 42, 43. Two new captains, names unknown. 44. The Jogbwenun. 45. The Honjenun. 46. The Agbado. In the _arrière_ came the high military officers, preceded by their escorts, firing hard. 1. The Gau, with an awful flag, a crimson man sprawling on a white ground, a blue and white flag, and smaller blue pennons, a black stool, and a pair of blackened and tattered umbrellas. 2. The Matro, or second Gau, passing at a run, with two white umbrellas and 1 head and knife. 3. The Po-su, a white flag, with 2 pink and 1 buff umbrellas. 4. The Ahwig-bamen, or assistant Po-su, with his band playing and his men firing, 1 white flag with green beasts eating one another, and 2 tattered umbrellas, one of them head and knife. 5. The Agbwi, with 2 white and 1 blue flags, and 2 white tattered umbrellas. 6. The Allohan, another tattered umbrella. 7. The Ahwesi, 1 plaid umbrella, and 4 white. 8. The Aovi, 1 white umbrella, and 8 flags preceding. 10 (_sic_ in first edition). Very tattered umbrellas, showing where the servants of the king were. 11. Fetisheers, with Bo-chio images. 12. The royal “place,” with 9 flags, 2 huge stools, 2 red and blue shields, 1 head and knife umbrella, and another striped, with blue lined valances. Thus the total number of parties was 58.]

[Footnote 114: Mr. Duncan, in more than one place (vol. i. pp. 233, 253, 261), declares that scalps are taken by the Dahomans. The custom appears to be now obsolete; I did not find a trace of it.]

[Footnote 115: A Flying Visit to Abeokuta, chap. vii.]