Transcriber’s Note:
Obvious typographic errors have been corrected.

THE LAND OF FETISH.

THE

LAND OF FETISH

BY

A. B. ELLIS,

CAPTAIN FIRST WEST INDIA REGIMENT.

AUTHOR OF “WEST AFRICAN SKETCHES.”

London: CHAPMAN AND HALL,
LIMITED,
11, HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN.
1883.

WESTMINSTER:
NICHOLS AND SONS, PRINTERS,
25, PARLIAMENT STREET.

CONTENTS.

Tower Hill Barracks,
Sierra Leone,
November, 1882.

THE LAND OF FETISH.

CHAPTER I.

The Gambia—Bathurst—Jolloffs—Novel Advertisements—A Neglected Highway—False Economy—History of the Gambia—Musical Instruments—Burial Custom—Yahassu—St. James’ Island.

My first visit to the Gambia took place in March 1877, from Sierra Leone. After two days’ steaming from the latter place we passed Cape Bald, with the two queer little Bijjals Islands in front of it, and sighted Cape St. Mary at the entrance of the river. On the high ground, at the point, could be seen the long low white building of the deserted barracks, and the tops of mangrove trees could be faintly distinguished above the level of the sea in the distance to the right and left as we entered the estuary; while, making a long sweep of two or three miles, we reached the Fairway buoy, picked up a pilot, and steamed up the river.

Bathurst, St. Mary’s Island, does not appear to advantage from the anchorage. The island is low-lying and flat; in front is a row of staring white houses, with a few stunted silk-cotton trees and hearse-plume like cocoa-nut palms mounting guard over them, and—and that is all. The prospect was not inviting, but, hoping that it might prove better than it looked, I hailed a boat, and was pulled to the shore. On the way several curious Shiriree canoes, fashioned like crocodiles, and full of men, passed down the river. The bows were filled with wooden idols, and in each canoe was a man beating a tom-tom, and howling some monotonous ditty in a minor key.

The island of St. Mary is a mere sandbank, barely raised above the level of the river, (in fact a considerable portion of it is below high-water mark,) and is separated from the mainland by a narrow mangrove swamp, dignified by the name of Oyster Creek, which is fordable at low water. The centre of the isle can boast of a little solidity, as a ridge of rock, covering about twenty square yards, there crops up through the sand, and is pointed out to strangers by the inhabitants with much pride, as a proof that their demesne has a stable foundation. The island has apparently been formed of the sand thrown up by the meeting of the inflowing tide with the current of the river. A bar, or sandbank, is now in course of formation to the south of the island from the same causes, and in a few centuries the British possessions in the Gambia will receive a considerable accession of territory in that direction.

The town of Bathurst is small and insignificant: there is a row of habitable buildings, principally stores, built of brick and stone, facing the river, and behind this lies the remainder of the town, which consists of native huts built of palm-leaves, old boards, and matting. There are no made roads, and every street is ankle-deep in sand. To one side of an open space in the centre of the town stand the old barracks, in which the West India troops were formerly quartered, and this, with Government House, which though small is perhaps the most comfortable in West Africa, are the only two buildings in Bathurst worth a second glance.

The natives of the country north of the Gambia are Jolloffs, an entirely distinct race of negroes, and, as far as my experience goes, the only really black people to be found in West Africa. The colour of the ordinary negro is a deep brown, but the skin of the Jolloffs is of a dead dull black. Their features differ from those of other races on the coast: the eyes are slightly oblique and almond-shaped, the nose long and inclined to be aquiline, and the lower part of the face less prognathous than is usual amongst Africans. There is a tradition amongst them that they were once white, and it may be a fact that in the dim past their ancestors were of Arab blood, and that their colour may be accounted for by a succession of marriages with the aboriginal women of the country. Many of them are remarkably like Arabs in every other respect, and both sexes wear the Arab costume. The women dress their wool, which they suffer to grow long, into innumerable ringlets, each about a foot in length and of the thickness of a pencil, which hang down in a mass on their necks; some of them are rather handsome, and have regular features.

There is a colony of Jolloffs in Bathurst, but the majority of the people of that race that one sees in the town are traders from the interior, who bring down their ground-nuts to exchange for powder, muskets, and Kola nuts. In the one street of stores, of which I have spoken, long lithe Jolloffs may be seen coming out of the shops with trade muskets, the stocks of which are painted a brilliant red, and the barrels made of renovated pieces of old gas-pipe. Into these unquestionably deadly weapons they pour two or three handfuls of powder, and then fire them off in the road to test them. The test frequently leaves nothing remaining but a fragment of barrel and stock, and the practice is one that is rather startling to strangers who may happen to be passing by. The Kola nuts (Sterculia acuminata) are eaten by the natives habitually, as sailors chew tobacco. They are said to be particularly useful to travellers, as they prevent all sensations of hunger, thirst, or weariness. I ate two or three as an experiment, but I did not find that I was any the less ready for my dinner at the usual hour. They are imported from the Timmanee country, near Sierra Leone, principally in the neighbourhood of the Great and Little Scarcies rivers, to which part, though distant three hundred miles from the Gambia, large canoes and boats resort solely for the purpose of obtaining them.

The English-speaking and Christianized negroes in Bathurst, most of whom are emigrants from Sierra Leone, are a vast improvement upon their compatriots in that negro paradise. They positively do a little work occasionally, and some few of them might even be called industrious. I could not discover the cause of the improvement. Perhaps it is owing to the good example of the Jolloffs, or to there not being such a redundancy of missionaries in the Gambia; but I think it is more probably due to the fact that the island is so small that there is no spare land on which they can squat and do nothing (even if there were any soil to produce anything), so that they are obliged to work or starve. They build cutters of from twenty-five to sixty tons’ burden, which are used by the French merchants for bringing produce down the river from their outlying factories, and for carrying cargo between Bathurst and Goree or Dacar.

In the one street of Bathurst there is a fairly good market-shed for native vendors of fruit and green-stuff, and I was going to look round and see what there was to buy when I caught sight of a large slab of marble let in to the rubble wall of the gateway. It bore the following legend:—

“This market was erected by Colonel Luke S. O’Connor during his Governorship, A.D. ——.”

I said to myself, “Oh! indeed,” and passed on.

Thirty yards further down the road I saw a tablet attached to an old swish wall. I walked up to it and read:—

“This wall was repaired during the Administration of Colonel Luke S. O’Connor, Governor, A.D. ——.”

It did not appear to me that this was such a stupendous feat as to need commemoration, so I turned down a side-street and walked on. In a few minutes I met a pump standing in the middle of the road. I saw there was an inscription on this too, and tried to avoid it, but a fatal fascination drew me on, and I read:—

“This pump was erected for the benefit of the thirsty wayfarer during the Governorship of Colonel Luke S. O’Connor, A.D. ——.”

I began to get rather tired of this, and turned towards the country, where I thought there could not be any more advertisements of this kind. I passed a dilapidated battery, which bore testimony in letters of stone to the worth of the departed monarch, Colonel Luke S. O’Connor the First, and approached the Colonial Hospital. From afar off I perceived a slab of darker stone let into the masonry of the wall, and I turned my head the other way. It was no use, I could not pass it, and I groaned in spirit as I read:—

“This building was enlarged during the Administration of Colonel S. Luke O’Connor, Governor, A.D. ——.”

I staggered away and wandered into a neglected grave-yard by the side of the path to Oyster Creek. I was in hopes that I might be able to sooth my mind by finding the grave of this departed potentate; but, alas! after a long search I only found a tomb which bore the following remarkable epitaph:

“Sacred to the memory of the bodies of three sailors, which were washed on shore on March ——, A.D. ——. This monument was erected during the Administration of Colonel Luke S. O’Connor, Governor.”

I left hastily. That man was not going to let his fame languish and die for want of a few monumental inscriptions.

The Gambia river is a magnificent highway to the interior of this portion of Africa. Its estuary measures twenty-seven miles in breadth from Bald Cape to Punshavel, and though it is only two miles across from Bathurst to Barra Point, directly opposite, it widens out to a breadth of seven miles immediately above St. Mary’s Island. At Macarthy’s Island, one hundred and forty-seven miles up the stream, the river is four hundred yards broad; and vessels drawing ten feet of water can ascend even up to some seventy miles above Yahlahlenda. Here, as in our other West African possessions, we have been retrograding of late years. Only some twelve years ago, Macarthy’s Island was garrisoned by troops, European traders had factories there, and small steamers went up the river as far as the falls of Barraconda; while the British name was respected, and the British power dreaded, far and wide among the warlike tribes dwelling upon the river banks. Now the troops have been withdrawn from the Gambia, Macarthy’s Island is deserted, and the natives laugh at the idea of England being a powerful kingdom, since her might is only represented in Bathurst by a miserable force of one hundred policemen. In fact the colony is quite at the mercy of the native chiefs, and but for their internecine squabbles and jealousies would have already fallen a prey to them.

In 1869 the Third West India Regiment, then stationed in the Gambia, was, as a measure of economy, disbanded by the Liberal Government then in power, the Minister for War stating that £20,000 a year would be saved by the transaction. The immediate result of this measure was, that when, in the same year, Bathurst was threatened by hostile tribes from the mainland, the Administrator had no garrison for the protection of the lives and property of British subjects, and was compelled to apply for assistance to the French at Goree. Two French men-of-war were at once sent, and the colony was saved. The effect of this incident was that the British Government, without consulting the inhabitants of the Gambia, or mooting the subject in Parliament, offered the colony to France; and, in spite of the protests of the people, who represented that they were Protestants and did not wish to be subject to a Roman Catholic power, the transfer would have been completed but for the outbreak of the Franco-German war. In 1874-5 the subject again cropped up, and, as a Conservative ministry was then in office, the French offered their settlements at Grand Bassam, Assinee, and Gaboon, in exchange for the Gambia. It is probable that this exchange, which would have been most advantageous for England, as through the acquisition of Assinee we should be able to control the importation of arms to Ashanti, would have been effected, had not the matter become entangled with the religious question. The Exeter Hall party brought all their influence into play, and the French offer was declined.

A more serious result of the disbandment of the Third West India Regiment was the Ashanti war of 1873-4. When the Ashanti invading army crossed the Prah, the Administrator of the Gold Coast had only two hundred soldiers with which to defend a colony of more than two hundred miles in extent. Had the Third West India Regiment been then in existence, and been sent to the Gold Coast with the same promptitude that characterized the despatch of the Second West India Regiment in 1881, the war of 1873 would equally have been nipped in the bud. As it turned out, the interest of the money expended in that war would have more than sufficed to keep up the Third West India Regiment; so that no saving was effected after all.

Our possessions in the Gambia consist of St. Mary’s Island, a strip of land one mile in breadth on the river bank opposite, called “the ceded mile,” about three square miles of unoccupied bush and swamp higher up on the western bank of the river known as Albreda, Macarthy’s Island, and British Combo. Bathurst alone is inhabited by Europeans, nearly all of whom are French. The trade is entirely in French hands, the exports consisting principally of ground-nuts, hides, and beeswax, of which the first are shipped to France and used in the manufacture of olive oil. From a commercial point of view we have nothing to lose by exchanging the Gambia; and should France again broach the subject, as the present Government is now, 1881, almost identical with that which offered the settlement unconditionally in 1869, it could now hardly refuse to part with it without stultifying its former action. At present we are playing the part of the fabled dog in the manger: we will not make use of the Gambia as a means of opening up the interior, nor expend any money on the colony; and, although it is of no value to us as it is, we will not give it up to another nation, to which it would prove exceedingly useful, and which is willing to make the necessary outlay for unclosing this long-closed artery.

Our connection with the Gambia dates from 1588, in which year Queen Elizabeth granted a patent to some Exeter merchants to trade there. Thirty years later a company was formed for the purpose of carrying on this trade, which almost entirely consisted of “trafficking in black ivory,” as slave-dealing was euphonically termed. After the abolition of the slave-trade this settlement, in common with the others in West Africa, declined, and the colony was almost abandoned, until in 1816 a new mercantile company was formed by British traders from Senegal. A dependency of the Gambia is Bulama Island, which lies to the east at the mouth of the river Jeba, and where Captain Beaver established a settlement in 1791 at Dalrymple Bay. There used to be a small garrison kept up here under a subaltern officer, but after nine officers, in succession, had died at their post from the effects of the climate, the Government seemed to think the experiment had had a fair trial, and the troops were withdrawn. The Jeba river is unapproachable from the Gambia by land, as between the two lies the Casamanza river with its dense forests and swamps, and the inhabitants of that cheerful region are ferocious savages and cannibals. The Administrator of the Gambia exercises no jurisdiction of any description over the tribes dwelling in the vicinity of the British settlements.

The Jolloffs are a musical race. Besides being the happy possessors of the tom-tom, or native drum, the six-stringed native banjo, and the long reed-instrument which seems universal in West Africa, they are the inventors of various musical machines peculiar to themselves. The most curious of these is one formed of slabs of a dark, heavy, and close-grained wood, which when struck emits musical sounds, varying in depth of tone according to the size and thickness of the piece of wood, the larger pieces giving forth bass notes and the smaller treble. These are arranged in regular order so as to form a complete gamut, and fastened above the halves of calabashes. It is in fact a native dulcimer, in which wood takes the place of glass. They have also a kind of kettledrum, in which the skin is stretched across half an enormous calabash, highly polished and sometimes elaborately carved. Another instrument is a species of zither, having ten strings, all of which are made of some vegetable fibre, though I have somewhere read that it is considered impossible to obtain strings suitable for stringed instruments from such a source. Some of their tunes are rather pleasing, though perhaps monotonous; but if, as some musicians assert, repetition may be considered a beauty, the Jolloffs may be well satisfied with their national music.

The Jolloffs have a curious burial custom. The body of the deceased is laid out in the inclosure, or yard, which surrounds every Jolloff house, where the ladies of the family prepare the kous-kous, and their lord and master prays at morning and evening; and, when it is about to be carried out for sepulture, the funeral party, instead of taking it through the gate, proceed to demolish the whole fence. They consider that it would be fatal to the deceased’s hopes of future bliss if his body passed through any gate before he crossed the bridge of Al Sirat and knocked at the door of paradise. Expectoration seems to be the commonest form in which grief is exhibited by Jolloffs. Of course the men never show even this sign of weakness; but the women at funeral customs, or when they are grieved about anything, fill up the pauses of their dirge, or complaint, with vigorous discharges of saliva. Any fly within a radius of ten feet has but small chance of escape.

The Jolloff country extends from the Gambia to the French possessions on the Senegal river, and is divided into three independent kingdoms, viz. Senaar or Senegal, Saulaem, and Ballah. A late king of Senaar, Jumail by name, was a source of considerable anxiety to the French, and kept up a standing army of ten or twelve thousand cavalry, with which he made frequent raids on the settlements. The religion of these people is purely Mohammedan.

During one of my visits to the Gambia I crossed the river to look at the country of the “ceded mile,” opposite Bathurst. At the extremity of a promontory, where the visitor is usually landed, are the remains of a small fort, called Fort Bullen, which has fallen into disuse since the withdrawal of the troops; and from the summit of its walls one can enjoy the pleasing prospect of miles upon miles of dwarf mangrove, bounded on the horizon inland by a mass of tall cocoanut palms and silk-cotton trees. To the east of the ceded mile lies the Mandingo state of Barra, and to the west the country of the Shirirees, who are idolaters.

The principal town in the British territory on this side of the river is Yahassu; and the ride to it from Fort Bullen after the mangrove strip is traversed is rather picturesque. The path throughout is shaded by stately silk-cotton, teak, caoutchouc, and cedar trees; while plantations of Indian corn and ground-nuts extend on either side. Yahassu stands in the centre of an immense plantation of bananas, and, like all Mandingo towns, is surrounded by a strong stockade, made of the trunks of trees of different lengths, and consequently somewhat irregular. The entrance is at a re-entering angle, and is defended by a small brass cannon, the sole piece of artillery appertaining to the town. The houses are all circular, and consist of a swish wall, about four feet in height, with a conical thatched roof, the rafters of which rest on an inner circular wall reaching to the apex, and forming an inner apartment. The door of this second chamber is in a point of the circumference of the inner circle diametrically opposite to the side and into the outer circle, so that ingress to it is only obtainable by traversing the first apartment, which is usually occupied by the slaves, dependents, and household utensils of the proprietor. Each house stands in a rectangular yard; and the streets of the town, which are about six feet wide, are completely walled in by the plaited palm-leaf fences of these yards. In the centre of the town is a square, where stands a mosque, and a school in which the male children are taught to read the Koran, which is written on wooden tablets whitened with lime. In the neighbourhood of Yahassu, the last elephant seen in this part of Africa was slain some twenty years ago.

After visiting one of these towns, one cannot help being struck with the difference of manner between Christian and Mohammedan negroes. The latter are courteous and dignified, never try to elbow a white man out of the path, or shove against him, or pick a quarrel; and the salutation, “Dam white nigger,” is replaced by the oriental “Salaam Aleykoum,” “Peace be with you;” while the idleness, improvidence, drunkenness, and ignorance of the former is replaced by industry, frugality, temperance, and a certain amount of learning. Yet not satisfied with looking after the converts they have already gained or striving to obtain others from among the idolatrous pagans, missionaries actually endeavour to reduce Mohammedans to the debased condition of their Christian compatriots: fortunately they do not meet with much success. However moralists may endeavour to explain the cause, the fact remains that Christianity does not produce such good results among negroes as do the tenets of Mohammed. Probably I shall bring down a storm of indignation on my head by saying that I consider the former is not a religion adapted to races barely emerging from barbarism. At all events this is what my experience of South and West Africa tells me.

About an hour’s row up the river from Bathurst is the island of St. James, which was the site of the first British settlement established in the Gambia. This isle, now so silent and deserted, was, towards the end of the seventeenth century, the scene of much bloodshed. During our numerous local wars with the French on this coast it was captured by them, and re-captured by us, no less than three times. On the last occasion a French naval force under the Count de Genes, in 1703, destroyed all the houses and devastated the entire settlement; and it was after this that the building of the town of Bathurst was commenced. Why the new colonists did not re-occupy James Island it is difficult to say, as it is fertile, well wooded, and fairly healthy, while St. Mary’s is barren, treeless, and pestilential. The ruins of the old fort, built in 1669, can still be distinguished from the river, covered with brushwood and shrouded in trees. The island is now entirely uninhabited, and its silence is never disturbed except by the advent of an occasional fisherman from the neighbouring Mandingo town of Sikka.

It is from the Mandingo tribes, who inhabit the country bordering on the river, that the supply of ground-nuts is principally obtained, and in the swampy districts a good deal of rice is grown; they also trade in beeswax and small quantities of gold. They are an industrious and, generally speaking, harmless people, and a European, speaking Arabic, might traverse the entire country alone and unarmed. To eat kola-nut with, or present some kola-nuts to, a Mandingo or Jolloff, places a stranger on the same footing as the tasting of salt does with an Arab; and after such a ceremony one is entitled to protection and assistance. A kola-nut is a good kind of passport and viséd for any Mohammedan town.

CHAPTER II.

British Combo—An interesting Conversation—Bakko—A small Account—Sabbajee—Peculiar Governors—The Gambia Militia—A new Field for Sportsmen.

Until I had visited British Combo I never could understand why it was that old officers always spoke of the withdrawal of troops from the Gambia with regret, and talked of that colony fondly as the best station in West Africa; but after I had seen it, though shorn of its former glories, it was quite comprehensible. Having borrowed from a friend one of those diminutive but thoroughbred Arab horses common to the country, I started from Bathurst one morning soon after daybreak on my expedition. Passing the disgraceful burial-ground, and leaving to the right Jolah town, which is inhabited by a race of outcasts supposed to have no moral or religious code of any kind, and to possess their women in common, I crossed a level tract of cultivated country, and halted for a few minutes in the grove of palms at Oyster Creek. This creek used to be the resort of the sporting members of the garrison, who would supplement the somewhat scanty food supply of the colony with green pigeons, wild ducks, curlew, and snipe from this place; but now the report of a gun but rarely awakes its echoes.

On the other side of the creek I entered upon a swampy region, consisting of stretches of sand and small lagoons surrounded by dwarf mangroves; and after splashing through the last of these I found myself in front of a dense growth of grass, eight or nine feet high. I thought that if all the open country of which I had heard were like this I should not care much about it, and rode into the narrow path which lay before me. The grass closed overhead, and I could see nothing in front but a long green tunnel, with occasional flecks of gold on the sand where the sunlight broke through. The grass was heavy with dew; a continual shower-bath of drops fell on me from above, and the long wet stems brushed my legs on either side. I should have enjoyed it very much if I had been unprovided with clothes, but I had not anticipated this bath, and was consequently dressed.

After a couple of miles of this I emerged into an open plain, as thoroughly wet through as if I had been towed behind a boat for a quarter of an hour; but the view compensated for any little discomfort. The country was of a dead level, covered with waving grass of a most brilliant green, and dotted with clumps of palm and monkey-bread trees; plantations of corn and ground-nuts appeared here and there; the deserted barracks of Cape St. Mary glistened white in the sun from a sand-ridge in the front; while to the left was the dense vegetation and rich colouring of a tropical forest. In the foreground were several of those peculiar trees which bear no leaves when in blossom, covered with their scarlet tulip-like flowers, while herds of cattle in the distance gave the scene almost a pastoral aspect. There may not seem very much in this to cause ecstasy, but nobody who has not sojourned for some months on the Gold Coast, surrounded by its interminable and depressing bush, can understand the delight with which a little open country may be greeted. The monkey-bread is not a handsome tree, and might be compared to a distorted semaphore or a corpulent sign-post. The trunks of these trees are sometimes immense, measuring from twenty to twenty-five feet in circumference, but they only throw out two or three stunted limbs, which can boast of but few twigs, and produce no leaves to speak of.

I had reined in my horse near a conical ant-heap to look at a flock of green parrots that were screaming round a crimson flowering shrub when I observed two gorgeously-appareled Mandingos approaching me. One wore a most elaborate turban, and his robe and sandals were highly embroidered. He was apparently a chief, as the other, who was not much behind-hand in the matter of brilliancy, was carrying, in addition to his own spear, the curved sword and leather purse-bag of the former. Both, it is needless to say, wore strings of leather-covered grisgris, or amulets. I was anxious to air the little Arabic I knew, so as they drew nigh I said,

“Salaam Aleykoum.”

They replied as one man, “Haira bi, haira bi,” and then stopped, evidently waiting for more, while the spearman stirred up the sand with the shaft of his weapon.

I was non-plussed, and thought that they were taking an unfair advantage of me; but, as they both remained gazing upon me in an attitude of earnest expectancy, I let off at them again my solitary phrase, “Salaam Aleykoum.”

“Jam-diddi toh-chow haira-slocum-doodledum,” said the chief, or something that sounded like it.

“Quite so,” I replied.

“Kara noona chi dodgemaroo,” he continued, excitedly.

“C’est vrai,” I responded, breaking out into another language in my agony.

“Hanu sah daday,” he shouted, advancing towards me.

“Verbum sap,” I yelled, in despair.

“Ri-tiddi, to tolli, soh gamma,” they both shouted, and, bowing almost to the earth, extended their hands deferentially towards me.

I shook them with unction, and they both passed on, highly gratified with our interesting conversation, and pleased with the information that I had given them. Really the Mandingos are a most intelligent race, and how well these two understood what I had been telling them.

Riding on, I shortly arrived at a small village surrounded by a fence made of palm-sticks, and further fortified on the exterior by hedges of thorned acacia and prickly pear. This was the Mandingo town of Bakko, and here the individual in whose honour the stone advertisements of which I have spoken were erected was, during one of his numerous petty expeditions, defeated with considerable loss by the natives under Hadji Ismail, the black prophet. On that occasion a portion of the colonial force was cut off and annihilated, while the remainder fell back with considerable difficulty upon Bathurst, where, as the victorious Mandingos followed up their success, and received large accessions to their number from their warlike neighbours, the governor was obliged ingloriously to apply to the French to save him and the colony.

I dismounted here, and was immediately surrounded by a crowd of naked and grisgris-covered children, while three or four men lounging about suspended their yawning and regarded me with stoical indifference. I did not discharge my sentence at these, because I had learnt all the news from the two with whom I had already conversed; and, besides, I was rather fatigued with the previous conversation. After a few moments a negro, clothed in the remnants of European garments, and whom in consequence I inferred was not a Mohammedan, came up to me and said, “Good morning.” He asked me what was my name, address, and occupation, whether I was married or revelling in single bliss, if I had any rum with me, and why I had come to Bakko; and in return vouchsafed the information that he was a farmer. He said he would show me round the town if I liked, so I left my horse in charge of a Mandingo and went inside the fence.

The interior was a perfect labyrinth, and the houses similar to those in the town of Yahassu, on the Barra side of the river, but smaller and dirty. My guide pointed out to me several small edifices of palm-sticks and bamboo, like miniature houses, raised upon piles inside the village gate, and informed me that these were where the people kept their corn. The doors to these granaries were merely bolted, and a piece of paper, inscribed with a verse from the Koran in Arabic characters, was fastened to each as a protection from thieves. My cicerone said,

“These are very foolish people, sar.”

“Are they? How?”

“They put dem writings on the bolts, and then think nobody can open the doors.”

“Oh!”

“Yes; and them Mandingos won’t touch them when they’re leff so—they ’fraid to.”

“You’re not afraid, I suppose?”

“Me? No, I don’t care for grisgris. By’mby I show you my farm; when these foolish people sleep on dark night, I take as much corn as I want for planting time. They think it must be devil,” and he chuckled at the joke.

“What religion are you then?”

“Oh! I b’long to the Wesleyans.”

“Ah! I thought so.”

My co-religionist informed me that the deer usually devoured half his crops, and that leopards, and animals “that howled like drunken men at night,” by which graphic description he meant hyenas, were so numerous and bold in their raids on the poultry and dogs that the thorn hedges, which I had noticed surrounding the village, were erected for their special behoof. Beguiling the time with such artless conversation, he led me round the village, and finally halted before a hut, which he asked me to enter, saying it was his. As I thought he had been unusually civil and obliging for an English-speaking negro, I did not like to refuse, though I do not care to invade the sanctity of such houses and inhale the odour thereof. I saw some six or seven women suckling babies and pounding kous-kous, whom I learned were the wives of my host, and sat down as far from them and as near to the door as possible; while their lord and master produced a dirty-white piece of paper and a lead pencil, and began writing away most laboriously.

After waiting a few minutes, and finding that my obliging friend was still hard at work, I got up and said I was going. He added a few finishing touches to his manuscript, came forward, and handed it to me. I read as follows:—

Thomas Henry, services to European stranger from steamer.

I said: “What does this mean? You don’t think I’m going to pay this, do you?”

All the civility dropped from my guide’s manner like a mask, and he said, jeeringly—

“I ’spose you call yourself a gen’leman.”

“I shall pay nothing of the sort,” I continued. “Do you think I’m a fool?”

“Yes!”

I looked about for some implement of castigation, more weighty than my light riding-whip, and said—

“What d’you say?”

He moved off to a safe distance, and replied:

“If you not a fool, I like to know what you come to this town for nuffin for. You must be a fool, man.”

I saw there was nothing to be gained by following up this branch of the discussion, so I returned to the original subject, and said, decisively—

“I shall not pay you anything, for your impertinence.”

“’Spose you no pay, I keep the horse.”

The thought of what my friend’s face would be like if I returned to Bathurst without his steed, was quite enough, and I hurried out of the village to the spot where I had left the animal. He was nowhere to be seen.

I felt then that I was up a tree of considerable altitude. If I went back to Bathurst for police, the thief would decamp in my absence; and, even if he obligingly remained to be caught, the delay of the law is such that I should miss my passage by the steamer, which was to sail next day. When I thought of my stupidity in leaving my horse, I began to have an uncomfortable conviction that my guide’s estimate of my character was correct; and I thought I should have to submit to his extortion after all. While still deliberating on the probable results of a violent assault on this amiable negro, a happy idea occurred to me. I knew that in every Mohammedan town there was a head-man, or alcaid, who, in those that were independent, was magistrate, governor, and arbitrator in general, and answerable for the preservation of order to the Mandingo king; while in those nominally subject to the British, such as Bakko, he settled disputes between the natives, and regulated the charges made against strangers for food and lodging; so I said to my extortioner, who had followed me out of the village—

“I shall go to the head-man.”

My forlorn hope told; his countenance fell almost to zero; and without waiting to consider that I did not know the alcaid, or where to find him, and that if I did succeed in finding him I could not make him understand my complaint, as I could not speak his language, he said, sulkily,

“Well, I don’t want to make trouble, you can pay half.”

“I shall do nothing of the sort.”

“Give me five shillings, and the palaver’s set.”

“Certainly not.”

“Master, dash me two shillings for the boy that hold the horse, and I go fetch him.”

I thought it would not do to push my advantage too far, so I agreed to these terms, and in a few minutes this scoundrel brought out, from the penetralia of some hovel in the village—my missing steed.

I climbed into the saddle, threw the money at the man’s head, and then, with my whip—but no, I won’t say what I did, or I shall have the “poor black brother society” of Exeter Hall down on me. It is sufficient to say that I rode off in a more happy frame of mind, though still annoyed to think that after the many years during which I had been acquainted with the negro I should have been such an idiot as to imagine that a Christianized and English-speaking low-class specimen of the species could be polite and obliging without having some ulterior scheme of insult or extortion in view.

On my return to Bathurst I learned that Bakko enjoyed anything but an enviable reputation. It appeared that its inhabitants were outcast Mandingos, who had found it advisable to leave their native country, and who, while thoroughly grasping the full meaning of meum, had but hazy and unsatisfactory notions as to the interpretation of tuum, in consequence of which their society was rather avoided, and they were rarely seen in the haunts of civilisation, except on those few occasions on which the intelligent police might be observed escorting them towards a public building yclept the jail.

From Bakko I rode on over open country, adorned with herds of short-horned cattle and solitary pie-bald sheep with long tails, and where occasionally the wild ostrich may be seen, to Josswang, close to Cape St. Mary. There are a few houses here, which, in the palmy days of the colony, were the country residences of the Bathurst merchants, but which now are affected by the universal blight which has fallen upon the settlement and fast becoming ruinous. Ten miles from Cape St. Mary is the Mandingo town of Sabbajee, now belonging to British Combo, which was the scene of one of the glorious exploits of the great advertiser Colonel Luke S. O’Connor, who commanded a force which took the town, stockaded like all such, by assault. That individual’s mania for self-laudatory memorials was so great that on this occasion he, as Governor, took away two large kettledrums which had been captured by a West India Regiment, and, after a short interval, returned them to the regiment, embellished with two silver plates, which set forth that he, during his administration of the government, had presented these drums to it for gallantry in the field; and then sent in a bill for the plates.

He is not the only peculiar governor with which the Gambia has been afflicted; one in particular I can remember who was notorious for his parsimony throughout West Africa. I had known this potentate when he revolved in a more humble sphere, and during one of my visits to Bathurst (I shall not say in what year) I allowed myself the honour of calling on him. At about 1 p.m. I presented myself at the door of Government House and knocked; not a soul was to be seen anywhere, and the place might have been deserted. I kept on knocking louder and louder for some minutes, and then as nobody answered and the door was wide open I walked in. I traversed one room, and, turning round the corner of a screen, discovered a person attired in very seedy garments employed in cutting mouthfuls off a slab of mahogany-coloured meat which lay in a plate on a chair. This was the governor, but I should never have recognised him in that position had it not been for the suit of clothes he was wearing and which I remembered having seen on him some years before. He received me with great affability, asked me to sit down, and conversed about mutual acquaintances. He did not ask me to join him in his lunch, for which I was not sorry, but he did ask me to have a glass of wine. He said:

“Can I offer you a glass of pam wine?”

“I beg your pardon, I didn’t quite catch....”

“Will you take a glass of pam wine?”

I said, “I don’t quite know what you mean.”

“You don’t know pam wine? It is the sap of the pam tree; the natives bring it round to sell. It is very refreshing.”

He meant that horrible emetic known as palm wine, and I declined with thanks.

The subjects of this monarch said that he kept no servants, and made a police orderly do all the housework. I saw nobody at all. They added that he gave a small dinner once a quarter, and that everybody ate a good square meal before going to it, because they knew that they would not get enough to satisfy hunger at his table. All these West African Governors neglect their duty in the matter of entertaining, though they receive a special table allowance of £500 a year for that purpose. A circular from the Colonial Office pointing out that that money is intended for entertainment, and not for the defraying of ordinary household expenses, would not be out of place.

The Gambia boasts of a local corps of militia. It is not often called out, principally because there is no particular uniform for it, no officers, except two unmilitary Colonial officials, and no arms, except old trade muskets, for the men. As the latter are mostly decrepid old pensioners and discharged men, all Africans, from the disbanded West India regiments, it is not a very formidable body. It is a curious fact that Africans cannot, as a rule, be taught to shoot straight: the practice of the Houssa Constabulary on the Gold Coast is deplorable, and it is well known that it is the bad shooting of the few Africans who still remain in the existing West Indian Regiments that pulls down the figure of merit in those corps. There is no such difficulty with West Indian negroes, for the average recruit from the West Indies is as good a shot as the British recruit, and this almost seems to show that a certain amount of cultivation and civilisation is necessary for making a marksman. In these days of long-range firing it is fortunate that recruiting in Africa has ceased.

Should any of my readers feel tempted to visit the Gambia, I believe that they would find a hitherto unopened field for sport at the upper waters of that river. Certain it is that elephants abound some distance above the falls of Barraconda, the river is full of hippopotami and crocodiles; while leopards, hyænas, antelopes, and civet-cats are easily found, by any one who knows how and where to look, in the vicinity of Bathurst itself. Of the feathered tribes, quail, curlew, snipe, duck, and the usual varieties of cranes and parrots, are common; while the valuable marabout bird and the ostrich are frequently bagged by the badly-armed and worse-shooting Mandingos and Jolloffs.

CHAPTER III.

The Slave Coast—Whydah—The Dahoman Palaver of 1876—The Dahoman Army—An Unpleasant Bedfellow—The Snake House—Dahoman Fetishism—Various Gods—A Curious Ceremony—Importunate Relatives—The Dahoman Priesthood.

Towards the end of the year 1879 I visited Whydah, the seaport of Dahomey, on the Slave Coast. Between Whydah and the boundary of the Gold Coast Colony, now advanced to Flohow, about two miles beyond the old smuggling port of Danoe, are the ancient slave stations of Porto Seguro, Bageida, Little Popo, and Grand Popo; and the lagoon system, which commences with the Quittah Lagoon to the east of the river Volta, extends along the whole of this coast as far as Lagos. These lagoons are however gradually silting up, and this movement is proceeding so rapidly that already canoes can only pass from Elmina Chica to Porto Seguro during the rainy season, the old bed of the lagoon being a vast arid plain during the summer.

Passing the clump of trees three miles east of Grand Popo known as Mount Pulloy, and which is one of the principal landmarks of this lowlying coast, we anchor off the town of Whydah, eleven miles from Grand Popo. The landing here is very bad, the surf being worse than at any other port in West Africa, and sharks abound. In fact in the spring of 1879 the canoemen employed by the different trades at this place struck work, so many of their number having been devoured by these denizens of the deep.

The lagoon at Whydah is a quarter of a mile in breadth and from four to five feet deep; it is separated from the sea by a sand-ridge, 880 yards broad. On this sand-bank stand the stores and sheds of the different mercantile firms, French, English, and German; but the traders are not allowed by the Dahomans to live there, and after business hours they have to cross over to the town of Whydah, which lies a mile and a half inland on the northern shore of the lagoon.

The king of Dahomey is the only absolute monarch known in West Africa, the power of all the other negro potentates being limited by the influence and authority of the principal chiefs and captains, as that of the king of Ashanti is limited by the dukes of Ashanti, but he of Dahomey knows no other law than that of his own sweet will. Even the European traders who reside at Whydah are to a considerable extent subject to the native laws, or in other words to the king’s pleasure, and none of them would be allowed to leave the country without permission.

The king has some knowledge of European methods of raising a revenue, and an ad valorem duty is imposed on imported goods, while each vessel on entering the port has to pay a certain quantity of goods, assessed according to the number of her masts, to the king. To the east and west of Whydah stake and wattle fences extend across the lagoon, closing all passage except through small openings, where are stationed his Majesty’s revenue officers, who stop and examine all canoes passing through, and frequently help themselves to anything that takes their fancy. Little Popo and Grand Popo are both claimed by the king of Dahomey, but are really independent. As the natives of these towns will not acknowledge him as suzerain he periodically makes raids upon villages lying on the northern side of the lagoon. The two towns themselves being situated on the sand-bank are safe from attack, as, since the Dahomans attacked Grand Popo by water and were defeated, it is a law that no Dahoman warrior shall enter a canoe.

In 1876 we had a difference with the king of Dahomey. In the early part of that year Messrs. F. and A. Swanzy’s agent at Whydah, an English gentleman, was maltreated by order of the caboceer of the town, and subsequently sent to Abomey, the capital, as a prisoner. There he was treated with every indignity, compelled to dance before the king’s wives, and was daily dragged out, bareheaded, to be present at the execution of criminals or sacrifice of human victims, hints not being spared that he might shortly prepare himself for a similar fate. Eventually, after being mulcted of money and goods, he was suffered to escape.

As a compensation for this outrage on a British subject, Commodore Hewett, who commanded the West African squadron, demanded a fine of one thousand puncheons of palm-oil, and threatened to blockade the coast from Adaffia to Lagos if it were not forthcoming. The king refused to pay the fine, and the coast was blockaded from July 1st. Both the Dahomans and the British residents in West Africa anticipated that war would ensue. The king had impediments placed in the lagoon at Whydah and collected bodies of Amazons in the vicinity of that town. On our side the system of lagoons between Lagos and Dahomey was surveyed by naval officers, and it was found that small steamers could ascend to within thirty miles of Abomey. In September 1876 the Dahoman troops advanced towards Little Popo, and destroyed several villages in that neighbourhood; an attack on the British settlement at Quittah was also threatened.

The blockade continued till 1877, when a French firm at Whydah, rather than suffer their trade to remain at a standstill, paid, in the name of the king, a first instalment of two hundred puncheons of palm-oil. The whole of this was lost in the SS. Gambia, which was wrecked on the Athol Rock off Cape Palmas. This was the first and last instalment ever paid by, or for, the King of Dahomey; and in 1878 and 1879, when a second instalment was demanded, the King flatly refused to pay anything. The blockade, however, was not renewed.

Thus affairs remain at the present day. For an outrage on a British subject we demand compensation, a portion of the sum demanded is paid by a French house, and the matter is allowed to drop. This is almost a repetition of what occurred with regard to the Ashanti war indemnity. The Ashanti envoys who signed the conditions of peace paid to Sir Garnet Wolseley 2,000 ounces out of the 50,000 demanded, and promised to pay the rest by quarterly instalments. When the first became due an officer was sent to Coomassie with an escort of constabulary to receive it, and it was obtained without trouble; on the third occasion, when the same officer, Captain Baker, was sent, the King said the gold was not ready. Captain Baker replied that he would leave next day at noon whether the gold was forthcoming or not. On the day following he paraded his men and marched out amid hootings and derisive laughter, but when he had reached the Ordah river runners overtook him with the gold dust. The Colonial Government, however, thought it would not be advisable to send for any more instalments, and no more have been paid. West African natives are now beginning to regard Great Britain as a power which is satisfied with threatening punishment, and one that would not go to any trouble to obtain actual redress, especially where the offending state was powerful.

It was indeed whispered in official circles on the Gold Coast that an expedition to Abomey would have been undertaken but for the opposition of the French Government. There is no doubt that the French are a little sore at the withdrawal of our offer to give them our possessions on the Gambia river, and this has been shown by their endeavouring to intimidate the people of Catanoo into hoisting the French flag, and, later, by their occupation of the island of Matacong near Sierra Leone; but as far as regards Whydah neither France nor any other European power has any claim to any portion of its soil.

The annexation of Whydah would not be a difficult matter, and that is the only real obstacle to our possessing a compact colony extending from Assinee to Lagos. We should find allies in the Egbas of Abbeokuta, the people of Grand and Little Popo, and in the inhabitants of Whydah itself, who, in the last century, were an independent people, and who still bear no goodwill to their conquerors. The Amazons are the élite of the Dahoman army, and they have shown at Abbeokuta and elsewhere that they can fight with a ferocity that more resembles the blind rage of beasts of prey than human courage. Their number is variously estimated at from 15,000 to 20,000, and their warlike spirit is kept alive by a yearly war which commences every April. Numbers of the male prisoners made in these periodical wars are drafted into the Dahoman army, so that it may reasonably be supposed that a considerable portion of the male army corps is but luke-warm in its fealty. The whole Dahoman army is estimated at 60,000 soldiers, all of whom carry fire-arms, and a great number breach-loaders, the importation of which has of late years been carried on extensively at all parts of the West Coast.

In 1876 it was proposed that a flotilla should ascend the lagoons from Lagos to within thirty miles of Abomey and there disembark troops. As however all that we should require would be the possession of Whydah it seems objectless to proceed to Abomey, where we should have to attack the enemy in the midst of his resources, and where, if we did suffer a reverse, it would be irretrievable and none could escape. A much less dangerous plan would be to land, unexpectedly, at Grand Popo (the Whydah surf making the disembarcation of troops there out of the question), a small force of from 800 to 1,000 men. These men, proceeding by lagoon, would be in Whydah in two hours: there are no Dahoman troops there, and there would be no resistance. As Abomey is sixty miles from Whydah, a day and a-half would elapse before intelligence of this occupation could reach the King, two days at least would be occupied in mustering the army and performing the fetish ceremonies necessary before commencing a war; and the army would be another day and a-half on the march downwards, so that five days would elapse between the entry of British troops into the town and the arrival of the enemy. It is not at all improbable that if Whydah were occupied in force the King, who is not by any means ignorant of the power of Great Britain, would make the best of a bad business and cede it to us with what grace he could. In any case by seizing his solitary port we should make him entirely dependent upon us for the African necessaries of life, viz., rum, tobacco, and gunpowder, and by cutting off his supplies could soon bring him to terms. Our territorial possessions in West Africa will surely increase, and as they do so and fresh tribes are brought under our rule, some scheme of disarmament similar to that carried out in South Africa will have to be enforced. By occupying the Slave Coast we should be able to anticipate events by prohibiting the importation of arms now, and at the same time we should consolidate our West African possessions.

In Whydah are the remains of several so-called forts, some of which are still inhabited, though the majority have fallen into disuse. The principal are the English, French, and Portuguese forts, and consist of swish buildings surrounded by loop-holed walls. They were built early in the last century, when the King of Whydah, which was then an independent state, allotted portions of ground to each nationality for trading purposes. These old buildings, like all similar ones in West Africa, are garnished with dozens of obsolete and useless guns.

Three out of the five districts into which the town of Whydah is divided derive their names from these forts, being called English Town, French Town, and Portuguese Town. The two remaining districts are called Viceroy’s Town and Charchar Town. Each district is under the superintendence of a yavogau or caboceer, who is responsible for everything that occurs in his district.

While at Whydah I stayed at the French factory, and there I had a rather unpleasant adventure on the night of my arrival. It was a very close night, and I was sleeping in a grass hammock slung from the joists of the roof, when I was awakened by something pressing heavily on my chest. I put out my hand and felt a clammy object. It was a snake. I sprang out of the hammock with more agility than I have ever exhibited before or since, and turned up the lamp that was burning on the table. I then discovered that my visitor was a python, from nine to ten feet in length, who was making himself quite at home, and curling himself up under the blanket in the hammock. I thought it was the most sociable snake I had ever met, and I like snakes to be friendly when they are in the same room with me, because then I can kill them the more easily; so I went and called one of my French friends to borrow a stick or cutlass with which to slay the intruder. When I told him what I purposed doing he appeared exceedingly alarmed, and asked me anxiously if I had yet injured the reptile in any way. I replied that I had not, but that I was going to. He seemed very much relieved, and said it was without doubt one of the fetish snakes from the snake-house, and must on no account be harmed, and that he would send and tell the priests, who would come and take it away in the morning. He told me that a short time back the master of a merchant-vessel had killed a python that had come into his room at night, thinking he was only doing what was natural, and knowing nothing of the prejudices of the natives, and had in consequence got into a good deal of trouble, having been imprisoned for four or five days and made to pay a heavy fine.

Next morning I went to see the snake-house. It is a circular hut, with a conical roof made of palm-branches, and contained at that time from 200 to 250 snakes. They were all pythons, and of all sizes and ages; the joists and sticks supporting the roof were completely covered with them, and looking upwards one saw a vast writhing and undulating mass of serpents. Several in a state of torpor, digesting their last meal, were lying on the ground; and all seemed perfectly tame, as they permitted the officiating priest to pull them about with very little ceremony.

Ophiolotry takes precedence of all other forms of Dahoman religion, and its priests and followers are most numerous. The python is regarded as the emblem of bliss and prosperity, and to kill one of these sacred boas is, strictly speaking, a capital offence, though now the full penalty of the crime is seldom inflicted, and the sacrilegious culprit is allowed to escape after being mulcted of his worldly goods, and having “run-a-muck” through a crowd of snake-worshippers armed with sticks and fire-brands. Any child who chances to touch, or to be touched by, one of these holy reptiles, must be kept for the space of one year at the fetish house under the charge of the priests, and at the expense of the parents, to learn the various rites of ophiolotry and the accompanying dancing and singing.

Fetishism in Dahomey is entirely different to fetishism on the Gold Coast, and more nearly approaches idolatry, as the unsubstantial shadows and apocryphal demons, which are worshipped and dreaded by the Fantis and Ashantis, are on the Slave Coast replaced by images and tangible objects. Before every house in Whydah one may perceive a cone of baked clay, sometimes large and sometimes small, the apex of which is discoloured with libations of palm-wine, palm-oil, &c. This is the fetish Azoon, who protects streets, houses, and buildings of every description.

By the side of each road leading from the town grotesque clay images, roughly fashioned into the human shape in a crouching position, may be perceived, protected from atmospheric influences by a rough shed. This is Legba, who is sometimes represented of the sterner and sometimes of the softer sex, and propitiatory offerings to this fetish are supposed to remove barrenness. Somewhat similar to Legba is Bo, who is the special guardian of soldiers.

The ocean is very generally worshipped, and has a chief fetish man of high rank dedicated to its use, besides a large train of ordinary fetish men. This high official at certain seasons descends to the beach, shouts forth a series of incantations, and requests the sea to calm itself, throwing at the same time offerings of corn, cowries, or palm-oil into it. Sometimes, too, the King of Dahomey sends an ambassador, arrayed in the proper insignia, with a gorgeous umbrella and a rich dress, to his good friend the ocean. This ambassador is taken far out to sea in a canoe, and is then thrown overboard and left to drown or to be devoured by sharks. The honour of this diplomatic post is not much coveted by Dahomans.

Perhaps the fetish most dreaded is So, the God of thunder and lightning, as what are considered to be the effects of his anger are frequently both seen and felt; So being supposed to strike with lightning those who disbelieve in his power or presume to scoff at him. It is unlawful for any person who has been killed by lightning to be buried, and it is commonly believed on the Slave Coast that the bodies of those who have met their death in this manner are cut up and eaten by the priests of So.

A minor fetish is Ho-ho, who protects twins, who in Dahomey are always named Ho-ho, as on the Gold Coast they are called Attah; and, in addition to those I have already enumerated, and which are the most commonly worshipped, the Dahomans worship the sun, the moon, fire, the leopard, and the crocodile.

The Dahomans place around the house a country rope, i.e. one made of grass, festooned with dead leaves, which is a fetish to prevent the building taking fire. When a large fire occurs they frequently kill the owner of the habitation in which it first broke out, considering that it originated through some sacrilege or omission of fetish worship. They also place a ridiculous caricature of the human form, made of grass, old calabashes, or any rubbish, on the doorposts of their houses and on the gates of inclosures, to keep evil spirits from entering therein; and a fowl nailed to a post, with its head downwards, is considered a charm to prevent an unfavourable wind.

The reverence which is paid to unusually tall and fine trees forms a curious contrast to the foregoing barbarous beliefs. The silk-cotton tree (bombax) and the well-known poison-tree of West Africa are those most commonly selected. Libations in honour of these trees are poured into perforated calabashes placed round their roots.

One morning I saw a Dahoman, arrayed in spotless white raiment, seated on a mat in an open space opposite the factory, and surrounded by a small crowd of enraptured lookers-on. My thirst for information is so insatiable that I never can see a crowd without wanting to ascertain what is the matter, so I put on my helmet and went out. I found the individual in white surrounded by small calabashes; one of which contained water, a second rum, a third kola-nuts, and a fourth a live fowl; and an old fetish lady sat opposite to him on the edge of the mat, swaying backwards and forwards, and singing some excruciating ditty in a low voice. Presently she dipped her fingers into the calabash full of water, and annointed the crown, forehead, chin, and neck of the patient with the fluid; then she sang another verse, and repeated the process with the rum. The man seemed decidedly refreshed after this, and I thought it was perhaps some native kind of shampooing. After a short interval the old woman selected a kola-nut, hurled it violently to the ground, examined all the broken pieces, and then, picking up one fragment that seemed to satisfy her, proceeded to chew it. When it was sufficiently masticated, she removed it from her mouth, and touched up the sufferer with it as before; then she decapitated the fowl, and, taking the bleeding head, went over the same ground, for the fourth time, with it. After that she, and as many of the bystanders as had a chance, fell violently upon the calabash of rum and drank it, and the meeting broke up. I was confident in my own mind that the man who had been operated on was sick, and that what I had seen was a fetish cure; but one of my French friends told me that it was a ceremony of common occurrence, and that the man was worshipping his head in order to obtain good fortune. I had noticed that he had seemed relieved when it was all over, as if he had been glad to be able to get out of his clean raiment, but his head did not appear to be any better than it was before.

When a Dahoman falls ill he immediately fancies that the departed spirit of one of his ancestors or relatives wishes to see him and requires his presence below, and is undermining his health so that the interview may be hastened by his death. To avoid this unwelcome friendship he consults a fetish man, and begs him to use his influence with the unquiet spirit, so that he may be excused paying the unpleasant visit for the present; at the same time he deposits cowries in the hands of the priest by way of fee. The latter, if he thinks that the invalid is likely to recover, soon relieves his apprehensions by telling him that he has obtained him permission to postpone the interview indefinitely. If, on the other hand, the patient’s case be doubtful, the fetish man procrastinates till more decided symptoms set in; and then, if the disease be likely to terminate fatally, he dolefully informs the sick man that he has used every means in his power to conciliate the unquiet spirit, but without effect. This, adding to the fears of the invalid, generally hastens the end.

A resident in Whydah told me that he once heard the following conversation between a sick man and a priest. The sick man said:—

“Who is it that wants to see me, and is troubling me now?”

“Oh! it is the ghost of your brother Gele. He is anxious to have some conversation.”

“Ah! it’s only him, is it? You’re sure there’s nobody else?”

“Oh! no—there’s nobody else.”

“Well just remind him, will you, how I used to thrash him when he was alive; and tell him if he doesn’t leave off bothering me now I’ll make him have a bad time of it when I go below.”

The future habitation of the Dahoman soul is supposed to be a gloomy region situated under the earth, and like the world, but deprived of most of its beauties and pleasures. A Dahoman, like the inhabitants of the Gold Coast, believes in no future state of rewards and punishments, and he is firmly persuaded that the social position which he holds in life will be identically the same with that which he will hold in the regions of the dead. A chief in life will be a chief after death, and a slave will be a slave.

In Dahomey the fetish men are divided into distinct sects, according to the deity for which they officiate—the priests of the snake-house, for instance, having nothing to do with those of Legba, and so on. The rancour, however, which is exhibited between the various sects of Christianity is here wanting. When a Dahoman wishes to devote himself to the service of the gods he is not permitted to choose any deity he pleases. He has to work himself up into a state of frenzy, during which an old priest places round him images of the different deities, and the one with which he first comes in contact is the one which he is destined to serve. These neophytes usually preserve some kind of method in their madness, and take care to touch the representative of that form of worship to which they are most inclined, though sometimes accidents do happen and a wrong one is touched. The fetish men speak a language peculiar to themselves, and unknown to the common people, which they learn in the fetish schools, and call “the holy fetish word.” They have likewise many privileges, and can wear any dress they please; whereas the laity are obliged to clothe themselves according to the positions which they hold in Dahoman society. When the fetish fit, or frenzy, overtakes a priest, he can do anything he pleases without being held accountable for it; ordinary people, therefore, do not care to make enemies of priests.

CHAPTER IV.

The Amazons—Trying Drill—System of Espionage—The Annual Customs—Human Sacrifices—The Dahoman Repulse at Abbeokuta—Natural Features of Dahomey—Agriculture—The Whydah Bunting.

I was wandering one day with one of my hosts, up the main road that leads from Whydah to Kana, the second town of the kingdom, when we heard the tinkle of a bell in front of us, momentarily drawing nearer. Several Dahomans who were passing at once put down their loads and rushed into the tall grass which bordered the road on either side, while my companion stepped off the path and turned his back to it. I said—

“What’s the matter?”

“The King’s wives are coming, and no man is allowed to look at them. You must do as I do.”

“All right!”

I said “All right,” but I had not the remotest intention of losing such a sight, so I stood behind him where he could not see what I was doing, and, as the galaxy of beauty approached, I covered my face with my hands and—looked through my fingers.

First came a young lady bearing in one hand a small bell, which she rang incessantly, and in the other a whip, with which to drive male loiterers into the bush. Her arms from the wrist to the elbow were covered with amulets of silver, the distinguishing mark of officers of Amazons, and she was further attired in a short tunic of blue and white. She looked at me in a hesitating manner, as if she could not make up her mind whether to use her whip on me or not, but, thinking that I looked innocent and harmless, she grinned affably and passed on. After her came fifteen or twenty more women, likewise attired in blue and white tunics, and all armed. They were Amazons. The leader, or captain, was not a bad-looking young woman, and carried a Winchester repeating-rifle slung across her back: the rest were like the average women of the country, that is to say, plain, and were armed some with Enfield rifles and some with muskets. All wore cartridge-belts and pouches, and carried long knives or machetes, with which it is said they mutilate the wounded in a horrible manner. Several of them were disfigured with the scars of long gashes on the cheeks and forehead, the usual West African sign of slavery; all of them looked wiry and muscular, and were covered with the cicatrices of old wounds. They soon passed by, and their bell was heard tinkling in the distance.

When my companion found out what I had done, he was very angry. He said that very serious consequences might have ensued, and that, as he was a resident and I only a visitor, all the trouble would have fallen on him. There was a good deal of truth in this, and I said I was very sorry, but I had some difficulty in making my peace.

The institution of the armed body of Amazons dates from 1728, when the then King of Dahomey, having had his forces greatly reduced by sickness and the casualties of war, hit upon the happy expedient of arming a number of women to recruit his forces.

These were trained as soldiers, and officers were selected from those among them who showed the greatest aptitude. With these novel troops the King obtained a signal victory over the people of Whydah.

The Amazons are sworn to strict celibacy, and the King alone has the privilege of choosing wives from their ranks. They are known in Dahomey by the names of “The King’s Wives” and “Our Mothers,” live in the King’s palace and there perform their fetish ceremonies with great mystery. At the gate of the habitation, or barracks, of these soldieresses, a curious fetish is hung, which is supposed to ensure the certain exposure of any Amazon who has broken her vow of continence; and the very fear of this fetish often causes the woman who has erred to confess her fault, and doom both her lover and herself to a horrible death. The stature and physique of the women of Dahomey, as is the case in many other parts of Africa, are quite equal to that of the men, and as all the labour falls to their share, their muscular strength is perhaps more developed than that of the lords of creation.

The Amazon ranks are recruited by girls of from thirteen to fifteen years of age, who are trained in military exercises, but not allowed to bear arms till they have attained a more mature age; and women who have committed capital offences are frequently allowed to escape punishment by enlisting in this female body-guard. The training to which these recruits are subjected inures them to hardship and to physical pain. They are made to sleep out in inclement weather, to suffer blows without a murmur, to fast and bear all privations.

Their drill is peculiarly unpleasant: one variety, which is supposed to make them au fait at scaling walls, consists of a succession of rushes to, and clamberings to the top of, a tall hut covered with prickly pear, the thorns of which lacerate them terribly. Drill of this description was the cause of the numerous scars I had observed on the bodies of the Amazons. I wonder how many recruits we should obtain for the British army if, amongst other things, the recruit had to precipitate himself upon chevaux-de-frise, or clamber over walls adorned with pieces of broken glass. In battle, the Amazons fire rapidly for a few minutes, then throw down their fire-arms, and, uttering terrific screams and shouts, charge on the foe with their knives. With these they do terrible execution, and even when shot down and trampled under foot will fight on to the last gasp, making blind stabs at the enemy above, and biting and tearing the feet and legs of those standing over them. It would be difficult to prophesy how British troops would meet these soldier-women at first, but experience would soon teach them that they need have no compunction in shooting them down.

The party of Amazons that I encountered had come down to Whydah to take some caboceer, who had incurred the king’s displeasure, up to Abomey. Everything that is done in Whydah is known to the king, for a most complete system of espionage there prevails; every man, from the yavogau, or chief caboceer, downwards, being watched by two or more spies, who are themselves under surveillance. To have authentic information of what goes on in the bosoms of the families of the caboceers, the king sends them occasionally one or more of his wives, who are no longer in the first blush of youth, as a present. This honour cannot be declined, and the chiefs have to admit to their families women whom they must treat with kindness, and whom they well know are only sent to report upon their most secret conversations and actions. By this system the king has made every man in Whydah distrustful of every other, and, consequently, any conspiracy or revolt against his authority impossible. Even such minute things as the number of yards in each piece of print paid on a ship being entered at the port are reported to him, and the unfortunate caboceer who had been sent for was accused of having appropriated to his own use a small piece of cloth, the trade value of which was at the most three or four shillings, and for which he would now have to pay probably with his head.

The “Customs” of Dahomey are three in number, viz.: The carrying goods to market, the “Water Sprinkling,” and the Ahtoh. At the Water Sprinkling custom, which means, in the Dahoman sense of the word, blood sprinkling, the king sacrifices one or two slaves and pours their blood upon the graves of his ancestors. This is done as a mark of respect, and moreover is considered as necessary for the welfare of the deceased by Dahomans, as masses for the souls of the dead are by the Roman Catholic variety of Christians.

The great annual custom, which takes place towards the middle of the month of May, and lasts for six weeks, is the most interesting. To this custom all the subjects of the king are invited, and all travellers or strangers in the kingdom are ordered to the capital. The first day is taken up by levées, a review of the Amazons, and the usual dancing, singing, and firing of guns; all of which takes place in the large square, or market-place, of Abomey. The victims to be sacrificed are confined in a wattle hut, called the victim-house, situated in this square; each prisoner being bound to the stool on which he sits, and further prevented from attempting to escape by long ropes fastened securely to his limbs and stretched tightly to the beams forming the shed. They are attired in long red caps adorned with festoons of ribbons, and wear white shirts ornamented at the neck and sleeves with scarlet, and with a large scarlet patch sewn on over the region of the heart.

The second day of the custom is called “Ekbah tong ekbeh,” or “Carrying goods to market,” and is really a display of all the more portable wealth of the king. The performance opens with the exhibition of the relics of the late king in a shed in the market-place; and all present pay devout obeisance to them, believing that the spirit of the departed despot is present, and that he would terribly resent any want of respect. After this various dances symbolical of battle, such as the charge, mélée, and the slaughter of prisoners, are performed by the Amazons, the king himself sometimes taking part in them. The march-past of the king’s worldly goods then takes place, and continues till dark. The most extraordinary and incongruous exhibitions take place. A procession of slaves bearing state-swords, gold and silver ornaments, and articles of great intrinsic value, may be preceded or followed by a band bearing vessels of crockery of the commonest and most homely description. Articles of earthenware that are not usually exhibited in public are here paraded in large numbers, mixed up in the strangest confusion with silks, satins, umbrellas, Manchester prints, clocks, bottles, pipes, tea-pots, cups, saucers, knives, forks, European clothes, and all the miscellaneous rubbish which has been collecting for years in the curiosity shop known as the Royal Treasury. Articles of apparel of the seventeenth century are not uncommonly seen at this custom, and there are many objects of vertu which would delight the heart of a Wardour Street connoisseur, and which were, probably, originally presents to the king from the slave-traders of a century and a-half ago.

The third day of the custom is known as “Ek-gai nu Ahtoh,” or “The throwing of cowries from Ahtoh”; Ahtoh being an immense raised platform which is built in the market-place specially for this ceremony. The platform is hung with banners and flags and covered with cloth of every conceivable hue, while over it spread the large canopies of the state umbrellas, made of strips of brilliant-hued silks and satins. To one side of this “Ahtoh” is an inclosure in which are the victims for sacrifice, bound hand and foot, and fastened into small canoes, or long baskets of stout wicker-work.

The king, accompanied by his wives and principal chiefs, occupies the summit of Ahtoh, and from time to time throws into the crowd handfuls of cowries and pieces of cloth, to be scrambled for. It is usually supposed that the Dahoman public is admitted to this scramble, but it is not so, and the whole ceremony is a fraud and a mere affectation of generosity. Soldiers alone are allowed to scramble, and the goods and cowries are their pay; for the Dahoman soldier, whether male or female, receives no regular stipend. They are fed and clothed at the king’s expense, and a moderate sum, the amount of which depends upon the success that has attended the royal arms during the past year, is set aside to be thrown from “Ahtoh.” The officers of the army generally contrive in this scramble to obtain all the cloth, leaving the rank and file to fight and struggle for the cowries; and in the wild confusion that ensues men are not unfrequently maimed or trodden to death.

After the goods that have been set aside for this purpose have all been thrown into the panting and perspiring crowd, the victims for sacrifice are brought up on to Ahtoh, carried on men’s heads, and taken to the edge of the platform to be shown to the mob. They are greeted with wild yells and cries, the executioners thronging to the foot of the platform and brandishing their knives, while the crowd arm themselves with clubs and branches, calling on the king to feed them for they are hungry. After a short speech from the monarch the first victim is brought to the edge of the platform, and placed upright in his basket: the king then pushes the upper portion of the bound mass, the man falls over into the crowd in a second, and before the unfortunate wretch has time to recover from the shock of the fall the head is severed from the body; and the latter, after having been beaten into a shapeless mass by the shrieking and frenzied mob, is dragged by the heels to a pit at a little distance, and there left to be devoured by crows and buzzards.

The number of men sacrificed in public is about fourteen, of whom the first three or four only are thrown down by the king; but, in addition to the public sacrifices, a certain number of victims are allotted to the Amazons, and are put to death by them within the precincts of the palace, where no man may be present to inquire too inquisitively into their peculiar rites.

In Dahomey we have none of those wholesale massacres in which hundreds of human beings are sacrificed, such as occur from time to time in Ashanti. In the latter country dozens of slaves are immolated at the death of even a very minor chief, but in Dahomey only one slave is allowed to be executed at the demise of the person next in authority to the king himself, and the number annually put to death in the whole kingdom is said not to exceed eighty.

The following is an instance of how horrors of this kind are exaggerated. A few years ago England was convulsed with horror at reading in the daily papers of hetacombs of slaves having been bled to death in a broad and shallow pit at Abomey, so that the king might enjoy the novelty of paddling about in a canoe in a sea of blood. What really occurred was that at the grand custom, which always takes place at the death of a king, the blood of the victims, about thirty in number, was collected into shallow pools about three feet square, and miniature canoes from six to nine inches long were set afloat in them.

The practice of human sacrifices is, however, gradually dying out in Dahomey; and, year by year, the number of persons sacrificed becomes smaller and smaller. The walls of the king’s palace, and those surrounding the residences of some of the principal chiefs, are generally crowned with human skulls, placed side by side throughout the entire length. Not many years ago it was considered a sign of poverty or of great neglect if any of these ghastly ornaments, which had become destroyed from exposure to wind, sun, and rain, were not at once replaced by fresh skulls. Now, however, they are suffered to decay, and no one thinks it necessary to sacrifice a slave in order to keep the coping of the wall of his yard in good condition.

No doubt the diminution in the number of sacrifices is in a great measure due to the fact that there are no longer any small independent tribes on the borders of Dahomey on whom war could be made, and from whom a constant supply of victims could be obtained. This source was exhausted in the early part of the present century; and the only people against whom “slave hunts” can be organized are the Egbas, and these have usually terminated so unfortunately for the Dahomans that they seem lately to have lost all taste for the amusement. The persons now commonly sacrificed at the “Customs” are criminals, and their crimes would be punished capitally in even far more civilised kingdoms than that of Dahomey, though scarcely with the same surroundings and barbarity.

Abbeokuta, the capital of the Egbas, a town with a population of over fifty thousand, is the usual point of attack of the Dahomans. It is situated on the left bank of the Ogu river, and is inclosed with thick mud walls some twenty-five feet high, loop-holed for musketry, strengthened with flanking bastions, and further protected by a broad and deep ditch.

The King of Dahomey suffered a rather severe repulse at his attack on this town in 1851. For some months he had been threatening to destroy Abbeokuta, being only restrained by the remonstrances of the British consul; and, though at last diplomacy was found to be of no avail, the Egbas had benefited by the respite which had been obtained for them, and had been enabled to prepare for a vigorous defence. The van of the Dahoman army, consisting of Amazons, arrived at the ford on the river Ogu on the morning of March 3rd, 1851. The Egbas, who had received ample intelligence concerning the movements of the Dahomans, had mustered in force to dispute the passage of the river, and the Amazons found themselves confronted by a body of some 12,000 or 15,000 men. Forming up in a dense column, they crossed the river with a rush, cutting the Egba line in two and scattering the enemy like chaff. Had they then followed up their first success it is probable that they would have succeeded in entering the town with the rabble of fugitives, but the male corps of the Dahoman army was some miles behind, having been out-marched by the Amazons, and the commander of the latter did not consider it advisable to enter a town containing 50,000 enemies with a force of but 3,000 disciplined troops. The Amazons consequently extended beyond the ford and remained halted until the male corps was close at hand, when they advanced to the attack.

In the meantime every man, woman, and child in the town capable of holding a musket had crowded to the walls, which were, in the words of an eye-witness, “black with people, swarming like ants.” The Amazons advanced across the plain, which was utterly destitute of cover, in a species of column of companies; and, under a most furious discharge of musketry, deployed into line; then, after firing rapidly for a few moments, rushed madly on to the assault. Such a merciless shower of balls and slugs met them from the walls that, notwithstanding the most conspicuous gallantry and a wonderful contempt of death, they were repulsed with considerable loss, and, retiring beyond musket-shot, formed up in line facing the town. The Egbas did not venture to leave their fortifications in pursuit.

By this time the male Dahoman army corps had crossed the ford, and, advancing across the plain, extended to the right of the Amazons, so as partly to encircle the town, and, if possible, embarrass the defence. The whole force then advanced within musket-shot, and a furious discharge took place on both sides. That portion of the plain which was occupied by the right of the Dahoman attack was still covered with dried and yellow grass reaching to the waist; the left being bare, through the grass having been burned some days before. An American missionary, who chanced to be in Abbeokuta, observing this, directed those Egbas near him to fire the grass; and, a strong wind blowing at the time towards the advancing Dahomans, in a few minutes a vast sheet of flame bore down upon them. To conceive the rapidity with which a fire will under favourable circumstances sweep across a plain of dried grass, it is necessary to have witnessed such a sight. The male Dahoman army corps, finding itself suddenly confronted by a roaring, crackling pyramid of flame, fairly turned and fled. They had come out to fight, not to be roasted, and they bolted for their lives. The king, as soon as he saw the course affairs were taking, hastily recrossed the river with some 200 followers, leaving orders for the Amazons to cover the retreat and hold the ford till nightfall.

The victorious Egbas sallied out in thousands, and threw themselves upon the devoted band of Amazons, who were extended in three lines, with the flanks drawn back. In this order they kept at bay the whole Egba force, the first line firing, retiring through the second and third line, and then forming up again in rear to reload, and the whole thus retreating slowly upon the river. Arrived at the ford, they formed up in a compact mass; and, in spite of the repeated furious charges of the Egbas, held their ground until nightfall, when the enemy drew off and retired within their walls.

Early next morning the Amazons picked up such of their wounded as the Egbas had not murdered, and retired in excellent order across the river to the village of Johaga, about fifteen miles from Abbeokuta, the Egbas hovering round them during their retrograde movement, but taking care to keep at a safe distance. At Johaga a sharp skirmish took place, resulting in the repulse of the Egbas; and from that point the retreat of the Dahomans was not further molested.

The Dahoman force employed in this expedition consisted of some 3,000 Amazons and 5,000 male Dahomans. The Amazons lost very heavily, nearly 1,800 dead women-soldiers being counted by the missionaries of Abbeokuta at the ford and under the walls of the town. The men being little engaged did not suffer much. The Egbas engaged outside the town, both before and after the assault, were estimated at over 20,000, and quite 40,000 persons bore arms during the defence of the fortifications. Very few Dahoman prisoners were taken: the Amazons even when disarmed refused to surrender, fighting on, and biting their foes, and were consequently hacked to pieces.

Since this repulse the king of Dahomey has been satisfied with making mere demonstrations of force in the neighbourhood of Abbeokuta, burning the outlying villages and destroying the plantations of plantains and yams, and the fields of corn, without venturing to make any serious attack upon the town itself. The Egbas had several wall-pieces and heavy guns engaged during the assault, and these had done so much execution, badly served as they were, that they at once, through the medium of the missionaries, had a fresh supply of ordnance sent out from England. The missionaries also, who were not at all desirous of seeing their comfortable mission-houses burned and their vocation destroyed, implored the Government to send discharged gunners from West India regiments to Abbeokuta; and there was soon a small body of trained artillerists in readiness for the next assault.

The natural features of Dahomey offer a remarkable contrast to those of the Gold Coast. In place of the succession of ridges covered with dense bush and forest, the monotony of which wearies the eye in the latter country, one finds an open park-like country, nearly flat, and with a sandy soil bearing clumps of trees, tall grass, and but very little bush. The banks of streams and the hollows of water-courses are of course densely wooded, and fine timber-trees are common. The country is one specially adapted for agriculture, but only a very small portion of the soil is under cultivation, for the Dahomans, having for years indulged in the exciting and profitable amusement of “slave-hunting,” cannot, now that the slave-trade has been suppressed, fall at once into peaceable pursuits. Palm-oil and ground-nuts are however exported in considerable quantities from Whydah, and, as soon as legitimate commerce is found by the Dahomans to be as paying as the illegitimate bartering of human beings, cotton, sugar, tobacco, and cocoa will in all probability be grown in sufficient quantities for exportation.

Dahomey does not appear to be rich in minerals. In fact it is probable that the territory now known by that name was once a vast lagoon, similar to that of Quittah, only much more extensive, and that the kingdom now owes its existence to that slow process of upheaval of which I have already spoken as silting up the lagoons of the Slave Coast. This theory is partly borne out by an immense and shallow depression extending from the back of Whydah almost to Abomey, and reaching its greatest depth about fifty miles from the former town. At that point there is still a considerable swamp in the bed of the ancient lagoon, and indications of coal deposits have been there discovered. Throughout the whole distance between Whydah and Abomey the shells of fresh-water molluscs, similar to those found at the present day in the existing lagoons, are found in large quantities a few inches below the surface of the ground.

To the north of Abomey a geological change takes place. Instead of the flat sandy expanse, the ground is broken up into valleys and undulating hills, gradually rising until they merge in the distant Dabadab Mountains, about forty miles from the capital. Here, as elsewhere in the hilly countries of West Africa, the soil consists of volcanic mud or laterite, interspersed with ironstone and granite.

I do not think I have anything more to say about Dahomey except that Whydah is the habitat of the Whydah bunting (Emberiza Paradisea), the male of which is in the habit of changing its plumage five times a year, so as to look like a different bird each time. It is sometimes called the widow bird, and for many years troubled the minds and vexed the spirits of naturalists.

CHAPTER V.

Lagos—Small Change—A Ball—A Cheerful Companion—An Anomalous Sight—History of the Settlement—The Naval Attack of 1851.

In the spring of 1880 I found myself at Lagos, a town which has been called the Liverpool of West Africa, and which, next to Freetown, Sierra Leone, is the largest and best built in our possessions in that quarter of the globe. The first breach in the lagoon system occurs here, where the river Ogu, or Ogun, from Abbeokuta, discharges itself into the sea; and the bar, on which at high water there is 16 feet of water, is crossed by small steamers, which convey passengers, mails, and cargo to and from the mail-steamers lying outside. The island of Lagos is about four miles in length, and averages half a mile in breadth. The town is situated up the lagoon about three-quarters of a mile from the bar, and from the water presents quite a business-like appearance. Numerous wooden piers, alongside which are vessels discharging and receiving cargo, extend into the lagoon; steamers of light draught come and go, while on the shore the Marina, or parade, with its trees and white houses, covers a frontage of some two miles. The native inhabitants of Lagos and the surrounding country, with the exception of the Porto Novans, who are pagans, are Mohammedans, belonging principally to the Yoruba tribe, which appears to be an offshoot of the Houssa race. They are a quiet, orderly, and industrious people, and form a pleasing contrast to the idle and insolent, so-called Christians, of Sierra Leone, and the lazy tribes of the Gold Coast.

As cowries form the small coinage of the country, and are in universal use, I thought I might as well obtain a few for small purchases; so, as soon as I was settled down, I gave my boy a couple of sovereigns and sent him out to get change. Half-an-hour afterwards, as I was smoking in the verandah, I saw him coming along the Marina followed by a procession of some twenty men and women, each of whom carried a small sack on his, or her, head. The whole crowd turned into the yard, and disappeared from my view. Presently I heard the trampling of feet and a rattling sound in my room, and, on going to see what was the matter, I found it full of natives, with an immense heap of cowries piled up in the centre of the floor. I thought that I should be ruined, and said to my boy,

“What’s all this? What do all these people want?”

He replied.

“They’ve brought the cowries, Master.”

“Well! I didn’t tell you to buy £1000 worth—I haven’t brought a bank in my pocket. Clear it all away except what I gave you the money for.”

He said there was only two pounds worth there.

I never felt so rich in my life: as Dr. Johnson would say, I revelled in wealth beyond the potentiality of dreams of avarice. A solitary cowry is not of much value: 20,000 of them are equivalent to twelve shillings and sixpence, so I had more than 60,000. I told the carriers to take a few in payment, filled my pockets with some more, and went out with a light heart to buy up the whole market; taking care, however, to lock up the place, as I thought that so much unguarded wealth might be a temptation to the evilly disposed. My boy suggested that I ought to count my change to see if it was correct; but I decided not to.

A few days after my arrival there was a ball given by a club which rejoices in the name of “The Flower of Lagos.” The members of this Club are all negroes, principally haughty aristocrats from Sierra Leone, Liberia, and the Gold Coast, and I believe that they do not admit any of the Mohammedan canaille to membership.

I never was at such an amusing ball in my life, and, as I suppose such entertainments are given for the purpose of amusement, it may be considered a most complete success. The gorgeous-coloured satin waistcoats, the rainbow cravats, and gigantic buttonhole bouquets of the men, were sufficiently trying to the eyes; but when one turned towards the softer, one cannot in this case say the fairer, sex, who, as usual before the ice was broken, sat all together at one end of the room, I had positively to turn away, and wished for a green shade or a pair of blue glass spectacles. Scarlet, blue, pink, purple, yellow, orange, green, white—every known brilliant colour was there, and I had to follow the example of the other Europeans who were present, and view this brilliant spectacle through the medium of an inverted tumbler. The band was that of the Gold Coast Constabulary, and perhaps the less one says of it the better, unless it is now “the thing” in music to introduce crushing discords and heart-rending shrieks that are not in the original score of the composition.

Before the dancing commenced one could walk about and breathe without any extraordinary discomfort, but after that the bouquet d’Afrique really became quite too, too. I have always held very much the same opinion about dancing as that expressed by the pacha in Salmagundi, and I should have liked then to have been seated afar off on some eminence with a good telescope. It was pitiful to observe the struggles of the belles to appear cool (these poor creatures cannot, of course, like their European sisters, use powder, unless indeed, they used gunpowder or coal-dust), and how at last they gave it up as hopeless, and used their handkerchiefs energetically. A new Administrator had arrived at Lagos a few days previously, and he had to open the ball with the leading Lagos lady. Poor man, he did not seem at all at home, and was evidently unaccustomed to move in such high society. After the ceremony was over he kept going about like one dazed, rubbing his hands together, and bowing and asking what would be the next article. Some people said that the infliction had been too much for his brain, and that he was thinking of his earlier days, but I don’t know.

I noticed that the negro gentlemen were scrupulously polite and dignified, and talked, so to speak, on conversational stilts; the ladies tried hard to do the same, but the high pressure was too much for them. One sable beau went up to a charming creature in pink and yellow, and, bowing by a succession of jerks, said:—

“May I, Miss, enjoy the unparalleled gratification of your hand for the next polka?”

The giddy young thing replied:—

“Oh I yes, Mr. Smith—I’m orful fond of polking—Good Lard! what a fine coat you’ve got. I ’spect that cloth cost quite two dollars a yard now, didn’t it?”

Later on, when the fumes of the gooseberry wine, brandy, and rum began to mount to the heads of the assembly, a good deal of the veneering came off the manners and morals, and violent embracings took place in the more retired spots. Then one or two personal encounters occurred between jealous swains, while others, under the influence of ardent spirits, came and tried to pick quarrels with the few Europeans who were present, so I went away just as the orgie was beginning.

Horses thrive very well at Lagos, and every merchant keeps his horse and trap; not that there is anywhere much to drive to, except the Marina, as all the streets through the native town consist of ankle-deep sand, and the eastern portion of the island, where there are no houses, is a mere sandbank. The horses are small, being all of Arab blood, and are brought down from the interior by Mohammedan traders; they cost from £15 to £30 a-piece. In the matter of horses and food Lagos has a great advantage over other towns in West Africa. On the Gold Coast, for instance, one has to live almost entirely on those particularly nauseating preserved meats, the tins of which may bear different labels and names, but which all taste alike; for the country produces nothing but an emaciated fowl; but at Lagos one can revel in oysters, land-crabs, beef, mutton, and all the luxuries of the table. In the matter of salubrity, however, Lagos does not appear to advantage, and its epidemics periodically decimate the white population.

One morning, when I was walking along the Marina, I met a man who had been a fellow-passenger with me from England, and who had come out to Lagos to take home a coffin-ship that belonged to the Colonial Government, so that she might be broken up and sold for fire-wood. This individual had occupied the same cabin with me on the voyage out, and had kept me quite lively and exercised my mind a good deal during the trip. One night, when everybody on board, except the watch, was buried in sleep, I was awakened by hearing somebody cursing and swearing in a loud voice close at hand. I looked over the side of my bunk, and, by the faint light of a lamp that was burning in the saloon, I saw my cabin companion, stark naked, foaming at the mouth, and stropping one of my razors upon his fore-arm amid torrents of oaths. Presently he said:—

“I’ll have some d——d fellow’s blood to-night. I’ll have some blood.” And he rolled his frenzied eye round the cabin.

I did not make any remark. I did not want to remind him that my blood was pretty handy, because I had no weapon with me in my bunk more formidable than a pillow; so I lay quiet. He kept on stropping the razor, cursing to himself, and repeating that what his soul craved for was gore, for about ten minutes, then he suddenly hurled his weapon across the cabin, and rushed out just as he was. I skipped out of my berth with some alacrity, picked up my razor and locked it up; after which I felt rather safer, as I knew he had none of his own. Then I put on some clothes and went to look after the maniac; but, after searching all over the ship without success, I consoled myself with the thought that he had probably jumped overboard, and went to bed again. Next morning, when I awoke, I found my friend clothed and in his right mind, and thought I must have been suffering from night-mare; so I said nothing to him about what had occurred.

Ten or twelve days after this I was awakened in the middle of the night by some one clutching at my throat. I sprang up with a yell and struck out, fortunately hitting my assailant somewhere, and, as the ship happened to be rolling heavily, he lost his equilibrium and tumbled over. He was up again in a moment, and came at me brandishing a water bottle.

He said:—

“Give me my ship’s papers.”

I seized my pillow, and replied:—

“I haven’t got your papers. Stew-a-a-rd.”

“Give me my papers, or I’ll do for you.”

“Don’t be a fool—I don’t know anything about your papers. STEWARD.”

He threw the bottle at me, fortunately, instead of hitting me with it; and tried to do the throttling business again. Then a very pretty little struggle commenced up and down the cabin, we being thrown from side to side with every lurch, while boxes, tumblers, boots, clothes, and all kinds of loose furniture, went flying around. At last some of the other passengers appeared to have a dim consciousness that something was occurring, and appeared rubbing their eyes; and when they grasped the situation we soon had our friend tied up, biting and scratching like a wild cat. I told the captain next day I would prefer to sleep in some other cabin.

For the rest of the voyage this man appeared quite sane, and when I met him, as I have said, on the Marina, he came up to me, shook hands, and conversed like any rational being. He had brought his vessel alongside a wharf, and was tilting her over to try and get at some of the worst leaks and stop them up. Some of the guys he had out were very much worn, and I said that if he did not take care he would capsize his ship. This innocent remark set him off at once; he became purple in the face, foamed at the mouth, gesticulated violently, cursed at me, and was only prevented from proceeding to further extremities by my rapid exit. Next day his ship did capsize. He sailed from Lagos soon after, and I have been told that neither he nor his vessel have ever been heard of since. In any other part of the world but West Africa such a man as this would have been kept under restraint. His fits of mania were, I believe, the result of sun-stroke.

I was out driving round the town with a German friend one day when he pulled up at an inclosure, and said he would show me something that I would not see anywhere else on the coast. He took me in and showed me a merry-go-round, and I was sufficiently surprised to gratify him. What could have induced any one to bring such a thing out to West Africa? It was one of the old kind, worked by hand; an organ stood by, and I could almost imagine I smelt the sawdust and gingerbread, and heard the shouts and cries with which such machines were associated in my memory. I believe the speculation did not pay, the natives all wanted to ride for nothing, and the Europeans did not want to ride at all. The yard was full of Yoruba women, looking with wistful eyes at the wooden horses and triumphal cars, so we hired the whole coach of the proprietor for half-an-hour, and told all the women to get up on it. It was a most anomalous sight to see all these Mohammedan women, with their shawled heads, floating cloths, and long slim limbs, going round and round to the tune of Champagne Charlie. They seemed to enjoy it very much, and their bright eyes sparkled with fun; they were so grateful that I believe they would have done anything for us, even kiss us, if we had wanted them to. Some of them were by no means bad looking, and the custom they have of touching up the eyes with kohl gives them a rather languishing appearance.

The British first became mixed up in the affairs of Lagos after the repulse of the Dahoman army from Abbeokuta, which I have narrated in a former chapter. After that event the King of Dahomey commenced intrigues with the kings of Porto Novo and of Lagos with a view to cutting off the Abbeokutans from all communication with the sea, he believing that they received assistance there, both in money and weapons, from the British. These two potentates fell the more readily into his plans because they were both interested in the maintenance of the slave-trade, while the Egbas were anxious for its suppression. The river Ogu is navigable for canoes to within a mile of Abbeokuta, and, as it discharges itself into the sea at Lagos, that town may be said to be the natural port of Abbeokuta. Owing to differences however with Kosoko, the king of Lagos, a bloodthirsty despot who had dethroned his uncle Akitoye and murdered some two thousand of his friends and adherents in cold blood, the Egbas of Abbeokuta had been obliged to use Badagry, a small independent township some thirty-five miles to the west of Lagos, as their port; doing so at great inconvenience to themselves, as communication between Abbeokuta and Badagry could only be carried on by means of difficult roads, over which all goods and produce had to be carried upon the heads of men and women.

In June, 1851, Kosoko, in accordance with instructions received from the king of Dahomey, sent up a number of men to attack Badagry, at which town Akitoye the ex-king of Lagos was residing, and where there were also several British residents. The enemy were repulsed, and returned to Lagos, destroying on their way back an out-lying village of Badagry, named Susu. During the rest of the month of June, Kosoko’s people kept Badagry in a state of blockade, and occasionally landed marauding parties at night. During one of these night-alarms a Mr. Gee, an Englishman, was killed, and several Kroomen employed by the British traders were kidnapped. Things went on thus until July, early in which month a number of Lagos people came up to Badagry, under the pretence of trading or visiting their friends, and were suffered to land. On going ashore they proceeded to the market, which was crowded, the day being market-day, and at once picking a quarrel with some of Akitoye’s followers they threw off the mask and a fight commenced. The town of Badagry was burned to the ground, and a great deal of British property was destroyed.

The senior naval officer on the station being informed of this outrage felt it his duty to endeavour to obtain redress from Kosoko, and terms were dictated to him. After much delay and duplicity on the part of the king, it became evident that he had no intention of yielding except to force, and it was finally determined to bombard his town.

The naval force, consisting of Her Majesty’s sloops “Philomel,” “Harlequin,” “Niger,” and “Waterwitch,” and the gun-vessels “Bloodhound” and “Volcano,” assembled off Lagos bar in November 1851; and at daybreak on the 25th of that month the ships’ boats, manned and armed, and towed by the “Bloodhound,” entered the river and proceeded towards Lagos. As the consul still had some hope of the king submitting to a display of force, the flags of truce were kept flying; and, although, on rounding the first point, the enemy opened a harassing fire of musketry along the right bank of the river, the fire was not returned, and the boats kept steadily on, with the flags flying, until they arrived at about a mile from the town.

There the “Bloodhound” got aground in the mud, and the enemy’s fire increased, the shot falling fast and thick among the boats. The boom of heavy ordnance showed that Kosoko was much better prepared for defence than had been supposed; the flags of truce were hauled down, and the British, for the first time, opened fire.

The enemy were mustered in great force, and, being armed with good muskets, kept up an incessant fire from behind stockades and mud-walls upon the boats. They even endeavoured to send a body of men across the river in canoes so as to take the British in rear, but this movement was at once intercepted.

The fire from the boats producing but little effect, it was determined to land a party. The boats accordingly pulled in simultaneously for one spot, and about 160 men were landed, the remainder guarding the boats.

The natives made a most determined resistance and an exceedingly skilful use of the advantages of their position. The town, or at least that part of it where the seamen landed, consisted of narrow streets intersecting each other in every direction. The British were thus exposed to a flanking fire down every street which debouched on the line of advance; and the natives, when driven from one post, ran by back-alleys to take up a new position further on. After advancing some three hundred yards, and finding the resistance by no means diminished, but, on the contrary, that the number of opponents increased at every turning, and having already suffered a loss of two officers killed and seven men wounded, it was determined that to continue the advance would be imprudent. All the neighbouring houses were therefore set on fire, and the force returned to the boats, and thence to the “Bloodhound.” The fire continued to burn with great fury for some hours, and two heavy explosions were heard; but there was no wind, and the houses destroyed formed but a very small portion of the whole town.

In consequence of this repulse the attack of Lagos in force was ordered, and it was determined to dethrone Kosoko and to replace Akitoye on the throne. A naval force was concentrated, consisting of the “Sampson,” “Penelope,” “Bloodhound,” and “Teazer,” the whole being under the command of Commodore H. W. Bruce. On December 24th, 1851, the boats crossed the bar, and the “Bloodhound” dropped up the river with the tide to reconnoitre. Three guns from the south end of the island opened on her but did no damage, for the fire, though exceedingly well directed, was faulty in elevation.

The plan of attack arranged was that the boats should pass the lines of defence as quickly as possible, go round the northern point of the island, and there make the bombardment, where Kosoko and the principal slave-dealers resided. The line of sea-defence extended from the southern point of the island to the northern, along the western front, a distance of nearly two miles. In parts, where the water was sufficiently deep for boats to land, stakes in double rows had been planted in six feet of water, and along the whole of the distance an embankment and ditch for the protection of infantry had been constructed; while at special points exceedingly strong stockades, made of stout cocoa-nut trees, were erected for guns.

On the 26th at daybreak the “Bloodhound” proceeded up the river with the boats of the “Sampson” in two divisions, the one in front the other following. The “Teazer” followed with the boats of the “Penelope” similarly arranged, and accompanied by the consul’s iron boat “Victoria,” fitted for rockets. The enemy immediately opened a heavy fire of guns and musketry, the whole line of the embankment being filled with men, of whom nothing was visible but the muzzles of their muskets. The fire was returned from the British guns, but produced little effect, as the shot could not do much injury to the green wood of the stockades.

In trying to get round the northern point of the island with her division of boats the “Bloodhound” grounded. As the tide was falling it was impossible to get her off; but her guns, opening fire, silenced a battery of the enemy which was abreast of her, though nothing could silence the furious fusilade of musketry. A slight breeze springing up at this time it was seen from the “Bloodhound” that the “Teazer” was also aground, nearly in the same position as the former vessel was at the attack of November 25th.

Abreast of the “Teazer” was a battery, which her solitary 32-pounder contrived for some time to keep in check; but it was not long before two other guns were brought to a stockade, and opened fire from a position which was quite unassailable from the “Teazer.” These guns were admirably served, and Captain Lyster of the “Penelope,” who was in command of the “Teazer” and her division of boats, seeing that the vessel would be inevitably destroyed before she could be got off at high tide if the enemy’s fire were not silenced, determined to land and carry the guns. The eight boats which had accompanied the “Teazer” were formed in line, and pulled in directly for the stockade, which appeared to be the best spot for landing. As the boats touched the shore a tremendous discharge was poured into them; but the men formed up on the beach, and entered the stockade, from which the enemy retreated into the bush, which was close in rear. Lieutenant Corbett rushed ahead and spiked the guns.

The object of the landing being thus accomplished, the party retired to re-embark, when it was discovered that during the confusion which had naturally taken place, on landing under a severe fire, one of the boats had been taken by the enemy, a party of whom were seen at a little distance taking her towards the guns which had first opened fire on the “Teazer.” As it was necessary to re-take her, the men hurriedly ran to the other boats to go in pursuit. The crew of the captured boat, sixty in number, having nothing in which to embark, crowded round the other boats, which became overloaded, and some delay and confusion ensued in consequence. No sooner did the natives perceive this than they came down from the bush in swarms, pouring in a most destructive fire at a distance of a few yards. Two seamen who were unable to find room in the boats were seized and dragged up the beach, their heads being instantly lopped off under the very eyes of their comrades, and their bodies, horribly mutilated, thrown down again to the water’s edge.

The boats at last shoved off, and it was then seen that there was something wrong with the “Victoria,” which was close to the shore. On pulling back it was discovered that the anchor had been let go without orders. It was impossible to slip the cable, as it was of chain and clinched to the bottom of the boat, and there seemed to be no alternative but to leave her in the hands of the natives, when suddenly Lieutenant Corbett, who had received a severe wound on shore which rendered his right arm almost useless, ran to the stern, and, under a heavy fire, cut the chain-cable with a cold chisel. While so doing he received five different gun-shot wounds.

The “Victoria” was now got off, but the British loss had been so heavy, amounting to one officer and thirteen men killed, and four officers and fifty-eight men wounded, that it was not considered advisable to make any attempt to recover the lost boat, and the boats returned to the “Teazer.” Scarcely had they reached her than some forty or fifty of the natives got into the captured boat, and started as if to attack the vessel. They paid dearly for their audacity; for a rocket fired from the “Teazer” entered her magazine and she at once blew up. At sunset the “Teazer” was got off with the rising tide, and anchored out of gun-shot for the night.

In the meantime the “Bloodhound” and the boats of her division had been warmly engaged. At 10 a.m. Lieutenant Saumarez had been despatched with five boats round the north-eastern point, to ascertain the strength and position of the guns on that side of the island. A fire from four guns strongly stockaded was immediately opened; and was returned from the boats with such effect as to upset and turn out of its carriage one of these guns. The object of the movement having been obtained, the boats were recalled.

The fire from the embankment abreast of the “Bloodhound” still continued, and, about 2·30 p.m., it being observed that the enemy were trying to bring several guns into position there, Lieutenant Saumarez was sent with the boats of the “Sampson” to try and spike them. It was found impossible for them to make their way through the hail of missiles showered upon them, and they returned, with the loss of one officer killed and ten men severely wounded.

Next morning the “Teazer” got into the proper channel. A flanking fire was opened on the western part of the enemy’s defences, and rockets were thrown into the town. At about 11 a.m. a rocket was thrown into a battery below the house of Tappa, Kosoko’s principal chief and adviser. A tremendous explosion ensued, which was followed by an interval of dead silence, then house after house caught fire, and the town was shortly in a general blaze. The enemy’s fire at once slackened, and then stopped; and the Commodore, being unwilling to do further damage, ceased firing, and sent a summons to Kosoko to surrender.

Next day, Sunday, no reply had been received; and, during the whole of the day, canoes were observed crossing from the north-east of Lagos to the island of Echalli, laden with furniture and household goods. This was allowed to go on without molestation, and in the afternoon it was learned that Kosoko and his followers had abandoned the island.

A party was landed to spike guns and instal Akitoye as king, and it was then found that a creek and swamp, running about two hundred yards inland, had checked the flames and saved the eastern portion of the town. The defences were most ingeniously planned. The beach was strongly stockaded, with a ditch outside; and at every promontory was an enfilading piece of ordnance. Fifty-two guns were in all captured.

King Docemo succeeded Akitoye, and in 1861 Lagos was acquired by treaty with that king, who handed it over to the British in return for a pension of £1,000 a year. Badagry and Catanoo on the west, and Palma and Leckie on the east, form integral portions of the settlement; and, though we have no authority for so doing, jurisdiction is exercised over the intervening sea-board; and, to a certain extent, over the adjacent country, inhabited by tribes with whom we have made treaties.

The town of Catanoo was acquired in January, 1880. It lies on the sea-board, immediately opposite the independent kingdom of Porto Novo, on the northern bank of the lagoon of the same name. The king of that state was formerly a source of tribulation to the revenue officers of Lagos; as, when Catanoo was independent, he could there land exciseable articles free of duty, which were afterwards smuggled with wonderful facility into British territory by lagoon. In addition to this, he and his subjects were continually interfering with and molesting the peaceable Mohammedan traders; so the inhabitants of Catanoo were persuaded to hoist the British flag, and now the Porto Novo potentate has to proceed as far west as Whydah to import his rum if he wishes to avoid paying customs dues.

CHAPTER VI.

Leeches—Ikorudu—A Blue-blood Negro—Badagry—Flying Foxes—Fetishes—A Smuggler entrapped—Floating Islands—Porto Novo—Thirsty Gods—Cruel Kindness.

While at Lagos I heard that there was one of those fortified Mohammedan towns, peculiar to the interior of Western Africa, some eighteen miles to the north-east of the island. I had never seen one of these towns, so I hired a boat and a guide, and started early one morning for this particular one, which was named Ikorudu. We paddled along the lagoon for some distance, until we had passed the mouth of the river Ogu, and then the canoe-men ran the canoe into the mud of a mangrove swamp, and the guide said I was to disembark. I remarked that I did not see any path, and that if I had known that I should have to wade about in liquid mud I would have brought some stilts, but he said the road was better after a little distance, so I got on the shoulders of one of the men and waded ashore.

We walked on along a track three or four inches deep with sticky mud, through an immense swamp. Far away into the gloomy shadows of the bush stretched shallow pools of muddy water, in which the hideous mangrove stretched out its distorted limbs, while the mangrove fish leaped off the roots of the trees and skipped away across the surface of the water at our approach. Suddenly my foot slipped from under me, and I slid along for some distance, only to be brought up violently against a mangrove stump. I rubbed my knee, and anathematised the mud sotto voce. I had hardly moved two paces further when the ground seemed to be cut away from under my feet, and I fell into the arms of my guide. He said—

“You will have to be careful where you tread here.”

I replied:—“So it seems.”

“Yes, there are a lot of them about this morning.”

I asked him what he meant, and he answered by placing a foot on a brown object in the mud and skating along over it. I examined this object, and saw a flattened leech. The swamp was full of these things: thousands of them clustered round the roots of the mangroves, millions lay in the mud covered by the shallow water, and hundreds of them were taking a morning walk over the path. I saw a canoe-man detach one from his ankle and another from the calf of his log, so I took the hint and tucked my trousers into my boots. There were enough leeches here to phlebotomise the whole human race, and I thought of returning to England at once, and starting a Company, to be called the Grand International Leech Supply, for furnishing every household with these domestic creatures. As it is I give the idea, gratis, to any one of a speculative turn of mind.

After walking two miles over and through leeches we reached Ikorudu. The town is surrounded by a high and thick swish wall, which is loopholed, and has flanking bastions at irregular intervals; ingress is only obtainable by passing through doorways into swish houses, the floors of the upper rooms of which are loopholed, so that fire can be brought to bear upon the approach below. At one entrance I saw a kind of machicoulis gallery; and considering that the Egbas, against whom these defences were constructed, have no artillery, the place seemed tolerably strong. A broad and deep ditch encircles the whole town.

In 1865 or 1866 an army of twelve thousand Egbas besieged this place, and threw up two entrenched camps in its neighbourhood. The Ikorudans applied to the Government of Lagos for assistance, and the Fifth West India regiment, with the Lagos Police, numbering in all less than five hundred bayonets, were sent to their relief. This handful of men gallantly stormed the entrenchments and completely routed the enemy with heavy loss. To properly estimate this victory it must be remembered that the Fifth West India regiment was not in reality a West India regiment, properly trained and disciplined, but an African regiment, raised entirely from the Yomba and Houssa tribes in and about Lagos, and bearing a very close resemblance to the present Houssa Constabulary. This old habit of entitling African corps West India regiments has led to many unfortunate mistakes, from which the two bonâ fide West India regiments suffer sometimes even at the present day.

Shortly after this Ikorudu trip I took advantage of the sailing of a small steamer belonging to a mercantile firm at Lagos to proceed to Badagry, which lies to the west, up the Victoria lagoon. It is thirty-three miles from Lagos as the crow flies, but the tortuous nature of the only navigable channel makes the distance very much greater for bipeds not possessed of wings. At 6 a.m. our small craft cast off from the pier, and steamed away in the teeth of the fresh morning breeze, which rippled the surface of the lagoon and fanned our grateful faces. The channel which we followed was generally narrow, though here and there the shores receded and left wide reaches of shallow water, dotted with numerous small wooded islands. In such parts the view was very pretty; and the numerous canoes, bound for Lagos with native produce, paddled or poled along by brown-skinned men in loose garbs of brilliant colours, added the requisite life and colour to the scene. Numbers of crocodiles were seen basking on the banks of the islets or the shores of the lagoon, frightening the white cranes and flamingoes as they waddled with a splash into the water on the approach of the steamer. Two would-be sportsmen on board fired several shots at these saurians with those cheap German rifles, which are manufactured by persons who seem to think that back-sights are merely an ornamental appendage. Naturally they wounded nothing more vulnerable than the water or bush.

While we were steaming along a mulatto gentleman came up and entered into conversation with me. He commenced by saying that he supposed I was a stranger, and, after cross-examining me as to my business in Lagos, expatiated upon the scenery, civilisation, and delights of that settlement. After a little he said—

“You may have heard of me; my name is Pilot.”

I replied, “Oh! indeed, you’re the pilot are you? What depth of water have we here?”

“No, no, my dear Sir. You are quite mistaken. I am above menial pursuits of that nature. My name is Pilate. P-i-l-a-t-e.”