Sierra Leone—More Civility—Cobras—A Guilty Conscience—Naval Types—Freetown Society—A Musical Critic—The Rural Districts—A British Atrocity.
Sierra Leone—More Civility—Cobras—A Guilty Conscience—Naval Types—Freetown Society—A Musical Critic—The Rural Districts—A British Atrocity.
On January 1st, 1881, I returned once more to Sierra Leone. I found the place and people very much improved, which improvement was, I believe, entirely due to the action of the late Governor, Sir Samuel Rowe, who had consequently acquired the cordial hatred of all the Sierra Leone lower classes. Future Governors need not however lose heart; there is still something left for them to do, and, if they are only sufficiently energetic, they will have no difficulty in gaining that unpopularity with the natives which is, in West Africa, more honourable than popularity.
Civility to Europeans is still one of the weak points of the Sierra Leonians. Two or three days after my arrival some enterprising burglar ransacked my quarters during my absence, and removed everything which he considered worth taking. Suspicion fell upon the occupants of a certain house in the town, and a search-warrant was issued. As it was necessary that the stolen articles should be at once identified,if found, I had to accompany the police who went to examine this den; but, as the aroma of such dwellings is not usually pleasant, I allowed them to go into the house, and went and sat down on a rock by the roadside under the shade of a tree.
While so sitting, a Sierra Leone gentleman, whom I had seen for some distance coming along the road towards me, drew nigh, and lifted up his voice and spake, saying:—
“Hullo, you white nigger—what you do here, eh?”
I pretended to be deeply abstracted in the examination of the soil at my feet, and made no answer; while he continued, working himself into a passion as he proceeded—
“Heigh, you white nigger. You too proud to talk, eh? Dam brute.”
A small crowd began to collect and make facetious remarks at my expense, so I said to my annoyer:—
“If you don’t go away I’ll call the police.”
“Heigh! hear dat.Youcall de police, white nigger?Mecall de police, and give you in charge for ’ssault. All dese gen’lmen here saw you ’ssault me—dam brute.”
At this moment, fortunately, for I was beginning to feel a little displeased at this language, the sergeant of the police came out of the house, and I called him. Quite a change at once came o’er the spirit of thescene; my antagonist, crestfallen, executed a skilful flank movement up a bye-street, covering his retreat by a continuous and heavy fire of abuse, while his supports scattered and sought the nearest cover.
I could not have had this man locked up for what he had done, but the law is a beautiful and far-reaching, if somewhat complex, machine, and of course I could have a legal remedy. It only required the few following little preliminaries. Firstly, I should have had to ascertain the name of the individual; secondly, discover his place of residence; thirdly, attend and take out a summons against him; fourthly, pay for it; fifthly, have it served on the defendant; and sixthly, have a day appointed for the hearing of the case. Then, after having satisfied, if possible, these first requirements, it would be necessary for me to go down to the town in the heat of the day, and remain in a crowded and suffocating court for perhaps hours, subjected to the insidious insinuations and brow-beatings of a negro lawyer, who would very likely after all turn the tables on me by producing fifteen or twenty witnesses, all thoroughly well schooled in what they had to say, who would swear that I had perpetrated a vindictive and brutal assault upon a poor black brother who had merely asked me what o’clock it was. Even if I did succeed in obtaining a conviction, the defendant would only bebound over to keep the peace; and he would incite his relatives and friends to give me plenty of entertainment during my residence in the country.
This of course is only one side of the question, and, I am bound to say on the other side, that the servants of the two steamship companies, which run vessels from Liverpool to West Africa, are a great deal too free in the violent application of their boots to the persons of negroes who may go on board the steamers; so perhaps the latter retaliate on those Europeans who live in the place as a kind of compensation.
An otherwise friendly critic thought it strange that this should be the state of things at Sierra Leone. It is strange; but then things are not on the West Coast of Africa as they are elsewhere. In what other colony, for instance, could one find a Colonial official, holding a high position and drawing a large salary, who advanced money to all applicants on the security of jewelry and such small portable articles of value, or in what part of the British Empire an officer, head of a Colonial department, who uses his influence topersuadehis negro subordinates to insure their lives in a company for which he is agent, thereby pocketing a commission of twenty-five or thirty per cent. on each policy?
I do not think I have hitherto made any mentionof the black cobras-di-capello which are the pest of the barracks at Tower Hill. These playful companions seem to have a particular predilection for the sunny banks and rocks of that hill, and, during my two months’ residence there in 1874, four were killed within five or ten yards of the officers’ mess; but they appear to have become much more familiar of late years, and, a few days after my arrival, one was seen, and another killed, in a bedroom on the second story. As a bite from one of these snakes causes certain death within three hours, one would wish to have less dangerous domestic creatures at large. There must be hundreds of them in the vicinity of the barracks, as I have seen eight or nine myself at different times; and while walking up the hill one evening in the dusk barely escaped treading on one, being only just warned in time by a shrill hiss. These cobras usually go about in couples, and during the breeding season they will, though totally unmolested, make direct for any person who may happen to approach them.
Aproposof snakes,—a naval officer had rather an amusing adventure with one at Tower Hill. He had come ashore, from a gunboat lying in the harbour, to dine at mess; and, as is usually the case, had suddenly discovered, after the third or fourth rubber, about 11 p.m., that he could not get off to his ship thatnight, and must trespass upon somebody’s kindness for a bed. He was assisted to a room, and the lights were being put out in the mess when we heard a series of wild shouts up stairs, and then a noise as of some heavy body thumping and banging down the steps. We ran out into the passage, and discovered the naval man lying curled up, half undressed, at the bottom of the stair-case; so we lifted him up and asked what was the matter. He appeared very much frightened, and gasped out:—
“Oh, Lord! I’ve got them at last.”
“Got what?” we inquired.
“Oh, Lord: I’ve got them at last—Oh, send for a doctor will you. I’ll never touch another drop of that cursed ship’s rum, if I get over this.”
“But what have you got?” we reiterated.
“Got? I’ve got the jumps—that’s what I’ve got.”
“Nonsense! go to bed! you’re all right.”
“I tell you I’m not. I could have sworn I saw a snake in my bed just now, and that’s one of the first signs.”
He was so eager to see a doctor that we took him to one, and then went up to examine his room. True enough there was a snake, coiled up in the blanket on his bed. It was a python, which had escaped from a cage in which several were confined in an adjoiningroom. Two of us seized it by the head and two by the tail to take it back to its prison. As we were carrying it along it drew itself up and our four heads collided together with a crash; then it straightened itself out, and we shot off violently towards the four corners of the room; it required the united efforts of six men to remove that snake to his own domicile. This adventure shows what a guilty conscience will effect; and it was the more amusing because the naval hero had, not with the best taste, been loudly proclaiming that he was almost a teetotaller, that all military officers were drunkards, and that nobody ever died in West Africa except from the effect of ardent spirits. He went away rather early next morning without waiting to say “good-bye” to anybody.
I wonder what has become of the jovial, open-handed, and open-hearted naval officers that one reads about in works of fiction, and who continually interlard their conversation with nautical expressions; one never meets any of this description now-a-days, in fact quite the contrary; and I am half inclined to believe that they never were more than creatures of the imagination, but if ever they did exist the species is now extinct. The life that naval officers lead shut up in a floating tank on the West Coast of Africa is horrible; sometimes they do not set foot on shore formonths together, but lie day after day, rolling fearfully, off a few mud huts and a grove of cocoanut palms. They have hardly any work to do, and, as but few of them have any resources of amusement or occupation, they as a natural consequence quarrel amongst themselves; and in almost every gunboat one finds the five or six officers divided into two or three cliques, each of which will have nothing to say to either of the others, except on official matters. This sort of thing is rather unpleasant for any stranger who may happen to be on board. First of all one will come up and enter into conversation with you, during which he is sure to say:—
“Do you know that man over there?”
“No, I don’t,” you reply.
“Ah! his name is Blank. He is the most awful ass I ever met—I shouldn’t have anything to say to him if I were you.”
Then he goes away, and he is barely out of sight before another saunters up and begins talking. Presently he will say:—
“Do you know Smith well?”
“No, who’s Smith?” you inquire.
“Oh, that was Smith that was talking to you just now. He’s the most inveterate liar I ever met—you must never believe anything he tells you.”
Then after he has gone away Blank will comeforward, and after a few preliminary sentences casually inform you that both Smith and your second acquaintance are confirmed drunkards. No sooner has Blank moved off than the confidential naval officer, who calls you “old man” and speaks in low and thick tones, will draw nigh and tell you what the failings of every officer on board may be; finally leaving you under the impression that every one but himself is thoroughly incapable, untrustworthy, and of intemperate habits, and that were it not for him the ship would go to the dogs.
I was once on board a man-of-war for a few days in which this unsociability was carried to such a degree that at the gun-room mess every officer, at breakfast and tea, used to produce, from the depths of his bunk, a pot of jam, or a tin of potted meat, and devour it all by himself without offering it or saying a word to his comrades.
Then there is the naval officer, who, before you have fairly set foot on board, rushes at you and informs you that you have omitted saluting the quarter-deck; and who always loses his temper when you tell him that you do not know where it is, and are looking for it; and the self-asserting man who is perpetually telling you what his relative rank is. I remember an individual of this latter class, who when a guest at a military detachment mess, thesenior dining member of which was a captain, kept remarking.—
“You know I’m senior to all you fellows. As I’m a lieutenant of eight years’ service I rank with a major.”
He might have ranked with a major-general for all any one cared, but after he had said this at intervals some nine or ten times it began to become monotonous; so somebody said, as if to the punkah:—
“I’ve often heard that remark made before, but I never yet heard a major in the army boast that he ranked with a lieutenant in the navy.”
Society at Sierra Leone is in a very bad way; in fact from an English point of view one may say that there is no society at all. The only Europeans in the place are the officers of the garrison, the Colonial officials, and a few shop-keepers, who, although they will sell anything from three-pence worth of rum upwards, rejoice here in the title of merchants. Ladies there are none, except on the few occasions on which an officer’s wife may be found residing at Tower Hill, so what little society there is consists of men alone, and is composed of the most heterogeneous elements. Most of the so-called merchants appear to have sprung from the lowerstrataof English life, many of them have black wives, and a large majority of the Colonial officers are coloured;the Governors never seem to make the slightest attempt to collect around themselves the more cultivated members of the Colony, and everybody does that which seems good in his own eyes. Theéliteof the coloured population sometimes get up balls, similar to the one I witnessed at Lagos, and which like it usually terminate in an orgie, and to these Europeans are occasionally invited; but it is only those who have no sense of the ludicrous, or who have their facial muscles well under control, that can afford to go. The retailing of scandal seems to be the principal occupation of the town society, and if one were to place implicit credence in the tales and gossip which abound one would inevitably arrive at the conclusion that there was not an honourable man or a virtuous woman in the place.
In by-gone years the officers of the garrison used to inaugurate races, and a tract of ground near Kissi, on which stands a diminutive grand-stand, is still called the race-course; but now the sole amusement of the colony is the performance of the band of the regiment therein stationed, on the green patch of ground known as the Battery. This performance takes place once a week, but the majority of the people are too lazy and apathetic to go to hear it, and, with the exception of a few Colonial officers and some forty or fifty ragged children, the musicians discourseto empty air. There was one Colonial officer who was a regular attendant on band days, and whose principal aim in life seemed to be to pose as an authority on music before the uninitiated. As he knew nothing whatever of the science, and had successfully picked up the phrases used in music without in the least understanding their meaning, he frequently entangled himself in the most irretrievable confusion, and was a source of much amusement.
One day the band was playing Gounod’s Serenade, and during the performance the critic walked round and round as usual, beating time in the air with his walking-stick, and assailing every inoffensive bystander with a hailstorm of scientific jargon. When the piece was finished he nodded approval and said:—
“Ah! pretty thing—pretty thing. Fine scale of minor fifths. Let me see; what is it called?”
“That? Oh! it’s one of Whistler’s ‘Nocturnes,’” said somebody.
“Yes, yes. Of course it is. Whistler’s ‘Nocturne.’ How stupid of me to forget the name.”
It is said that this connoisseur once remarked that the Marquois scale was most difficult for a beginner on the flute; but that, when once learned, it was so beautiful as to well repay all trouble.
The peninsula of Sierra Leone is, exclusive of Freetown, divided into various rural districts, knownas the First Eastern, Second Eastern, Western, and Mountain districts. In addition to these the outlying territories of British Sherbro, the Isles de Los, and Ki-Konkeh at the mouth of the Scarcies river, form integral portions of the Colony. The Mountain district is very picturesque and affords some fine views, especially in the neighbourhood of Regent, where the Sugar Loaf, a densely-wooded peak about 3000 feet in height, towers over the little village. At Leicester Park, 1990 feet high, the Government have lately purchased a building called the Hospice, which had been constructed by the Roman Catholic Mission, 1495 feet above the sea, and it is used as a kind of sanitarium. Living up in these mountains takes one into an entirely different atmosphere to that of the town, and it is decidedly more healthy, except during the rainy season, when sometimes for days together the mountains are shrouded in clouds, and a drenching mist drives in at every opened door and window. These mountains all abound in deer and other game, but the cover is so dense that they are rarely seen; and to endeavour to beat up a ravine or valley is an expensive operation, as fifty or sixty beaters are required, all of whom want to be paid unreasonably highly for their services.
The Eastern district may be described as the frontier district of the peninsula, it being bounded bythe Waterloo creek and Ribbi river, which separate it from Timmanee country. The Timmanees periodically commit outrages on British subjects, and small wars ensue. These wars are, however, almost invariably bloodless; as the natives, on the approach of a disciplined force, at once evacuate their towns and take refuge in the forest. The towns are then destroyed and the troops and police return to Freetown, to wait until the natives have repaired the damage done, and begin their pillaging and murdering afresh.
In 1880 the Timmanees, who had been quiet for some time, began making disturbances; and the inhabitants of the village of Waterloo could not leave their homes without being murdered, or, at all events, fired upon. A handful of men was accordingly sent out from the garrison of Freetown, a few Timmanee villages burned, and order restored. During this small campaign a surgeon who accompanied the force committed a most unheard-of outrage. The bodies of a number of friendly natives, who had been killed by the Timmanees, had been placed in a pit, but not covered with earth, in order that the officers who were sent to restore order might actually see what the Timmanees had done. Upon this pit, about a week after the corpses had been placed in it, the surgeon chanced to light. To the astonishment and disgust ofthose who were with him he immediately sprang into it, and, drawing his sword, proceeded to hack off three or four heads from the bodies. Some of the relatives of the murdered men came running up, and their indignation and horror at this mutilation can be better imagined than described. Notwithstanding all they could say the surgeon continued his work until he had obtained sufficient specimens. He then clambered out, put the heads in a calabash, and walked off: remarking in a jocular manner that he had fleshed his maiden sword. On arriving at his boat he appeared surprised and annoyed that any one should blame him for what he had done, and when the officer in charge of the boat refused to take his ghastly cargo on board his indignation knew no bounds. Should a Turk impale a Bulgarian, or a Montenegrin cut the ears off a dead Turk, the whole of England is convulsed with horror, and the entire diplomatic machinery of the country set at work to discover and punish the offender; but in West Africa, when a British officer wantonly mutilates the dead, nothing is said about the matter. Can it be a subject for surprise that the natives of this part of the world should be barbarous, when such examples as this are set them by those whom they consider their superiors?
British Sherbro—The Bargroo River Expedition—Professional Poisoners—An African Bogey—A Secret Society—A Strange Story—A Struggle with Sharks—Startling News from the Gold Coast.
British Sherbro—The Bargroo River Expedition—Professional Poisoners—An African Bogey—A Secret Society—A Strange Story—A Struggle with Sharks—Startling News from the Gold Coast.
To the south of the peninsula of Sierra Leone lies the tract of low-lying country called British Sherbro, which was acquired by treaty with the natives in 1862, though Sherbro Island has been British for a much longer period. It is intersected by numerous rivers such as the Valtucker, Tittibul, Bargroo, Jong, Mongray, and Boom Kittam, which with their numberless tributaries form a complete network over the country.
The King of Sherbro was formerly one of the largest and most notorious slave-dealers in this part of the world; and, on three different occasions, the British naval squadron destroyed his town and slave barracoons. Even to the present day, though domestic slavery is nominally abolished, the inland traffic in slaves still flourishes in this region.
The Sherbros, like the Timmanees, are utter savages, and it is to these people that the world is largely indebted for the practices of Obeah andprofessional poisoning. They, however, show more aptitude for manufactures than the Timmanees, and weave a cloth of a beautiful texture and curious pattern, from indigenous cotton dyed with vegetable dyes. Some travellers have professed to discover some affinity between this tribe and the Kaffirs of South Africa, but upon what they based their assumption I have never been able to discover. There is no similarity in language, and but very slight resemblance in customs; in fact no greater than might be expected between the customs of the races inhabiting the same continent, and both equally plunged in barbarism. Their architecture, if hut-building may be so termed, is entirely different; and they sometimes use the bow and arrow, while it is the absence of that implement of war that has always specially distinguished the Kaffirs from the negro tribes living to the north, and the Hottentots and Bushmen to the south.
The Sherbros are a turbulent and restless people, and disturbances in British Sherbro are of almost yearly occurrence. Beginning from 1848, when Captain Monypenny, R.N. destroyed a stockaded fort in Sherbro river, hardly a year has passed without an expedition of some kind having been undertaken. The year 1875 was unusually prolific. In October of that year some Mongray people plundered Mamaiah, a village on the frontier, andkidnapped several British subjects. A gunboat, with some troops and police, was accordingly sent up the Mongray river, and scarcely had this expedition returned to Freetown when news of another difficulty on the Bargroo river arrived. A party of Mendis crossed the border about the middle of November and plundered and destroyed thirteen villages in British territory, carrying off most of the inhabitants as slaves. On receipt of this intelligence Mr. Darnell Davis, the Civil Commandant of Sherbro, left Bonthe, the headquarters of the local Government, accompanied by nineteen armed policemen, and proceeded to Conconany, the scene of the outrages, to endeavour to restore tranquillity. Hearing there that some of the captives were at Paytaycoomar, a village about ten miles inland from Conconany, he landed to proceed there, in company with a friendly chief and about a hundred of his followers. On his way to Paytaycoomar Mr. Davis and his party were attacked by a body of men lying in ambush, and himself and several others wounded; but he nevertheless proceeded and arrived before the village, which he found to be defended by three strong stockades. The Mendis opened fire from their “war-fences,” and the friendly chief and his followers at once took to flight, carrying away with them the axes with which the Commandant had intended cutting his way into the place. Nothingdaunted, however, by this desertion, he broke through the first and second gates of the stockades, ten policemen, who were old soldiers, alone following him. Between the second and third stockades they were met with a heavy fire that killed four policemen almost at once, and wounded the Commandant very severely; and the latter, seeing that it would be mere folly to persevere longer, retired with the remnant of his men to Conconany; being again attacked by an ambuscade on his way there, and wounded a third time with several of his men.
In consequence of this a force consisting of a detachment of the First West India Regiment and a body of armed police left Freetown for Sherbro with Lieutenant-Governor Rowe; a number of stockaded towns were shelled and burned, the leaders of the invading Mendis captured, and order restored. The defences of some of these towns were, considering the difficult nature of the country, formidable. Ordinarily they were surrounded by triple stockades, 20 feet high, and formed of posts about 10 inches in diameter. A space some 20 feet broad intervened between each stockade, nor were the entrances of these opposite each other. The town of Tyama-Woro was further fortified by two encircling mud-walls, 15 feet high and 12 feet thick at the base, inside which were two broad and deep ditches. In some of the townsmachicoulis galleries had been constructed over the gates, and the entrance further protected by semicircular flanking bastions.
Expeditions such as these appear small affairs when compared with our South African wars, but they are at least as worthy of recognition as the numerous “Hill Tribe” wars of India, for which the troops employed are invariably granted a medal. In West Africa the difficulties attending such expeditions are very much greater than in India, and there can be no comparison between the hardships experienced by both officers and men. The country consists of dense forest, through which the only roads are narrow paths, wide enough only for the passage of men in single file, obstructed by fallen trees, swamps, and unbridged streams, and where continual precautions have to be taken against surprises and ambuscades. Everything has to be carried on the heads of terror-stricken carriers, who bolt at the least alarm, and render the difficulties of the transport service almost insurmountable. Supplies are precarious, and of bad quality; while, in addition to all this, the climate is the worst in the world, and the constitution of a European does not for years recover from the injury caused to it by the exposure incidental to such expeditions. Some wars, such as the Quiah war of 1861, are serious affairs; and it is difficult to understand upon whatprinciple of justice rewards should be granted for such services in one part of the world and not in another. It would be a very simple matter to establish a West African medal similar to the Indian one, the clasp to which would show for what particular service it had been granted.
The professional poisoners of Sherbro, Rossu, and Timmanee, are notorious: the practice of getting rid of any objectionable individual by secret poisoning is only too prevalent throughout the whole of West Africa, but usually it is carried out through the agency of fetish men, whereas in this portion of the continent it is elevated to the dignity of a profession on its own account. These poisoners, or necromancers, since they pretend to compound spells by means of which they attain their ends, are acquainted with various deadly vegetable poisons entirely unknown to the European pharmacopœia, and many persons yearly fall victims to them, whose deaths, as the medical men are unable to recognise any of the symptoms attributable to known poisons, are ascribed to other causes. They are also equally well acquainted with the antidotes for their deadly drugs; and, when an individual has reason to suspect that he has had poison administered to him, his sole chance of recovery is to call in one of these practitioners, if possible the one who has been paid to make awaywith him, and offer him a bribe for a counter-charm, as these people like to call it. When any vindictive savage has a grudge against a European, or against any one else, all he has to do to obtain revenge is to go to one of these poisoners, and, stating his wishes, pay a small sum of money, and the victim is then doomed to certain death, sometimes sudden and sometimes lingering, unless, in the latter case, he succeeds in discovering what is going on and outbids his secret enemy. Old residents in Sierra Leone and the Gambia know of several cases on record in which member after member of a family has wasted away and died of an unknown and inexplicable disease, and where the survivors have only been saved from a like doom by calling in one of these diabolical wretches. If native accounts may be believed, these poisoners are as well versed in their destructive study as were their kindred spirits in the age of Catherine de Medici; and, besides drugs which are deadly when placed in food or drink and taken into the stomach, know and use others which scattered about a room poison the atmosphere, or, sprinkled upon wearing apparel, cause death by absorption through the skin, and perfumes, to inhale which is fatal. The manner of compounding and preparing these poisons is preserved with great secrecy and mystery, and transmitted from father to son in certain families of hereditary poisoners; but thenatives popularly believe that there is a kind of college, situated in an impenetrable forest somewhere near the Jeba river, at which would-be professors of this art enter themselves as students, where they learn their nefarious calling, and finally emerge with a degree as full-blown murderers. In Sierra Leone proper, this practice, euphoniously called witchcraft, or laying spells or charms, is forbidden by law, and is not now very common.
Another custom peculiar to the three above mentioned tribes is that of Egugu, which, however, is neither secret nor vindictive, and the Egugu man himself might not inaptly be described as the personification of the English “bogey” with which nurses terrify children. This arch-impostor is supposed to have revealed to him, by unknown powers, the name or appearance of every wife in the country who has been guilty of infidelity; and he makes periodical visits to each town and village for the purpose of exposing and punishing these frail fair ones, he and his following being entertained and feasted on these occasions at the expense of the inhabitants. When the Egugu man is approaching a village his retainers go ahead and announce his presence by the beating of drums, accompanied by wild howls and cries; and consternation at once falls upon the entire feminine portion of the community, for, as they are nearly allequally guilty, the only difference being that some have already been detected by their husbands while others have not, they all equally dread the threatening punishment and public exposure. On such occasions, those fair creatures, who have hitherto been so fortunate as to bear an unblemished reputation, generally find that they have pressing business which requires their immediate presence in the bush, and some thus contrive to escape the ordeal, though usually each husband takes care that all his wives shall be present; while those whose guilt has been already declared by the Egugu man, and who have consequently already experienced the worst, alone prepare themselves for the ceremony with a certain amount of indifference.
The Egugu man enters the town, or village, wrapped in a piece of country cloth, which entirely covers the face and head, and which covering he never removes except when alone with his immediate associates; while curious persons of either sex are restrained from pulling it aside, or endeavouring to obtain a glimpse of his face, by the belief that to look upon his countenance is certain death. He then traverses the village and enters every house in succession; while the female occupants, anxious to propitiate their judge, lay before him the mostrecherchédishes of savage African cookery, viz., the palm oil stew, the cassava cakes and the “stink-fish,” while towash down this regal banquet jars of palm wine and bottles of rum are provided. The Egugu man is cunning enough to know that the innocent, if any, will seem most unconcerned, and he consequently regards with suspicion those women who appear most anxious to please him, and usually picks out those who have treated him most hospitably, and with the greatest respect, for exposure and punishment. He is commonly very successful in his choice: it would be difficult in any case to pick out a guiltless woman, and, even in the remote chance of his doing so, the woman’s protestations would not be believed; while those who have forgotten the fidelity due to their liege lords, imagining that everything is known and about to be proclaimed, confess at once, so that they can give their own version of the story. The Egugu man then administers a few stripes to the culprits himself, and leaves them to the tender mercies of their spouses and the jeers and sarcasms of those more fortunate females who have gone through the ordeal in safety.
Should the village be pleasantly situated, and the people unusually hospitable, this flimsy juggler will remain in it for several days, examining the women in detail; and, when he has eaten up all the good things, or when he thinks he has nearly exhausted his welcome, for he is too wary to spoil his pleasantprofession by overdoing it, he moves off to another village and commences anew. As he is sometimes accompanied by as many as one hundred followers, or disciples, all of whom are fed and housed at the expense of the village, this absurd custom must be rather a tax upon the natives; but no village is visited more than once a year. It has always been a wonder to me that every negro in these countries does not set up as an Egugu man, or, at all events, become a follower of one, since it would be impossible to conceive a mode of life more pleasing to the negro mind. He goes about from village to village, fêted and honoured, living on the fat of the land, with no work to do, plenty to drink, the luxury of beating women and the satisfaction of being regarded with awe and wonder, all this too for nothing but the trouble of a little humbug; and it is certain that there would be an immediate rush of the male population for similar appointments were it not that they are sufficiently credulous to believe that there is really some sorcery or supernatural power at the bottom of the business.
Among the Sherbros there exists a secret society, which consists of various families, bound together by mysterious ceremonies for offensive and defensive purposes, and other reasons which are unknown. If my memory serves me rightly, this society is called the Society of Bonn, and the families composing itmeet at stated periods to celebrate their union with infamous rites; and annually, at one such meeting, a virgin is put to death, the victim being supplied by each family in rotation. Each member of the society is bound by diabolical oaths to preserve the secrets of their rites, and to slay any other member whom he may suspect of revealing them; thus all that is known about the fraternity has been gleaned from the reports of natives who do not belong to it, and who cannot know much about it; though some do assert that they have been hidden eye-witnesses of the annual human sacrifice. That such a society does exist, and that its members do put a young girl to death every year, is, however, well authenticated; and a French trader residing in the Sherbro on one occasion almost surprised them in the actual commission of the murder. I will give his story in his own words: he said—
“M. A—— my principal, sent me from Sherbro island to some chiefs on the mainland who were large customers of ours. I had six or seven Krooboys with me, and was away a little more than a week. On the last day, when I was coming towards the coast, I was delayed by one of my boys getting into some little trouble at a village, and, about nightfall, found myself at eleven or twelve miles from the sea. There was a good path through the forest, so I determined to go on and get back to the factory that night—Iwas in a hurry to return to a good bed and something fit to eat.
“You have walked perhaps in the forest at nightmon ami, and you know the feeling of awe which the darkness, the silence, and the sombre trees, with their long arms reaching towards you, awakes within one. The night was dark, dark as a pit; not a sound was to be heard but the rustling of our feet on the dead leaves, and the grey trunks of the trees stood up all round in the forest like spectres. I was very tired—I had been walking nearly all day, and we did not get along very quickly; so that about nine o’clock we were still in the forest, and neither the Krooboys nor myself were sure that we were in the right path—we had passed several forks, and had taken the road that seemed to lead towards the sea, but you know how these paths twist and wind about.
“Suddenly, in the midst of the dead silence, a chorus of howls and screams, the most horrible, the most blood-curdling, rose up in the depths of the forest, and died away in a long, low, melancholy wail. I was startled—not frightened—for I am not more superstitious than most men; but the cries had been so sudden, and were so strange, that we all stopped still. All was as silent as the tomb, and we were so quiet that I could hear the breathing of the Krooboys. While we were standing with our earsstraining to hear, the sound came again louder and louder—it seemed to be some little distance away in the direction in which we were going. I told the boys to go on, and I followed them. Six, seven, and eight times this long cry—the most despairing—, it made my blood run cold, was repeated; and then we heard the noise of the beating of drums. We knew then that it was only some natives observing a custom, and that there must be a village near; so we walked on. Soon the drums stopped, and the night was again as still as the grave.
“Suddenly, without any warning, we turned an acute corner in the path; and I saw before me some few houses, and a crowd of people standing together round something, in a clearing of the forest—they had with them two or three little lamps. At the same moment that I turned the corner and saw this, I heard a shriek, the most horrible—the shriek of a woman in the agony which is mortal. My hair raised itself on my head—my Krooboys stopped and muttered to themselves. I ask of them the cause, and they tell me of some secret brotherhood of the people, who sacrifice each year a woman. I draw my revolver: I cry to them—‘En avant—En avant;’ and we all run fast to the crowd. Then, pst, pst, out go all the lights; I hear the rustling of many feet; all again is black darkness.
“We reach the square of the village: there is nothing—nobody to be seen. Nobody? Ah!Mon Dieu, somebody. I nearly fall over some object which strikes my feet. I look down to see what it may be, and I see a corpse. Yes, a corpse of a young girl,une pucelle; still warm. I look for the cause of death, and I find, horrible to speak of, on the left breast a dreadful wound, a cavity—the flesh tom away.Mon ami, the heart of that poor girl had been torn out. Ah! so young, such beautiful limbs—It is the work of the accursed fraternity.”
“Well,” said I, when he had arrived at this point, “what did you do?”
“Do? What could I do? Nothing at all. There was not one person left in the village—I searched each house: all empty. Could I go and hunt in the dark forest for the murderers? No—I went on my way and arrived at my factory.”
“I suppose you told the Commandant of Sherbro about this?” I inquired.
“Yes, I told him; but he said he could do nothing, and it was not advisable to make trouble. It is many years ago now, and Chief Manin had just signed a treaty with your Government. They did not wish to have any more palaver.”
When I arrived at Sierra Leone in January 1881 everybody was talking about an extraordinary instanceof tenacity of life which had come to light three or four days previously. It appeared that a European madman, who, for safe keeping, had been confined in the Colonial Hospital, escaped from custody one afternoon; and, being pursued, jumped, about nightfall, into the sea from the harbour works. Some boats put out after him, but as nothing was to be seen of him it was concluded that he was drowned. About 9 p.m. on the same day, the occupants of a boat returning from Cape Sierra Leone heard, as they were passing King Tom Point, somebody groaning on the beach; they put ashore, and found the escaped maniac lying on the rocks in a horrible condition. During his swim from the harbour works to the spot in which he was found, a distance of some half-a-mile, he had been pursued and attacked by the sharks which swarm in the harbour, had lost an arm, and been dreadfully lacerated about the shoulders and thighs. From his own account they seemed to have kept up a running fight with him; and how he contrived to reach the shore, and, in his mutilated condition, draw himself up out of reach of his pursuers, was as great a mystery as was his subsequent recovery from his injuries.
About 4·30 p.m. on January 28th, just before parade, we were surprised by the unusual spectacle of two steamers coming round the cape together;there was a general rush for telescopes, and we saw that one of them was the outward-bound steamer “Cameroon,” which had only left the harbour about half-an-hour previously, and the other the mail from the Coast. This latter had the signal “Government Despatches” flying; it was evident that something was wrong down on the Gold Coast, and that it was of sufficient importance for the “Cameroon” to turn back. Imagination was at once busy as to what was up: some said it was the long-expected mutiny of the Houssa constabulary, others a revolt of the Accra people on account of the imprisonment of their king, Tacki, by Mr. Ussher, the late Governor, and a third party that the Awoonahs had risen; but while we were still deliberating, and before the steamers had dropped anchor in the harbour, the “fall in” sounded and we had to go on parade.
About five, while the parade was still going on, a Colonial messenger darted on to the parade ground, seized the commanding officer, and thrust a voluminous despatch into his hand. The latter cast a hurried eye over it, and instantly moved off with hasty strides towards a hammock that was waiting for him outside; calling out to his second in command that the parade was to be dismissed, but that no officers or men were to leave barracks. We knew then that something serious was the matter, and went and sat down by thefountain in front of the mess to wait for the news. At about 6 p.m., when our patience was nearly exhausted, an official appeared, panting and blowing up the hill. He came towards us, and said, in gasps:
“Gentlemen—The fact is this, gentlemen. It’s simply this, gentlemen. Bloody wars, gentlemen—Bloody wars.”
This was highly satisfactory, but did not enter much into detail, so we applied for more information. We then learned that King Mensah of Ashanti had sent the golden axe to the Lieutenant-Governor of the Gold Coast colony at Cape Coast, to demand the surrender of a fugitive; and, on the 24th, when the surrender was refused, had, through his ambassadors, declared war against the British. We heard further that the homeward-bound steamer was going direct to Madeira to telegraph the news to England, and that troops were to go down by theS.S.“Cameroon” next day. The Government of the Gold Coast had asked for three hundred and fifty men, but, as the entire garrison of Sierra Leone only consisted of four companies, that is a little over four hundred men, the authorities had decided that it would not be wise, on account of the Timmanees, to denude the Colony of troops to so great an extent, and about two hundred were to be despatched with stores and ammunition. Of course everybody wanted to be among the twohundred: the news had spread among the men, and a tremendous cheering broke out all over the barracks; they were delighted with the prospect of a brush with the Ashantis, and the band volunteereden masse. By 7 p.m. it was decided which companies were to go, and I found mine was one of the lucky ones: as we were to embark at 3 p.m. next day there was plenty of work to be done, while to make matters worse there was a dinner to be given that very night, and the guests would have to be looked after and entertained.
That night the excitement rose to boiling point: we who had been selected to go were objects of envy to all the less fortunate people who had to remain behind, and who went about with long and melancholy faces bewailing their ill-fortune and cursing their luck. The guests quoted Byron, talked of “sounds of revelry by night,” and drew comparisons, entirely in our favour, between the ball at Brussels on the eve of Waterloo and our dinner on the eve of departure for the new Ashanti war. They shook hands with us time after time, their voices thick with emotion; some almost shed tears as they suddenly awoke to the fact of their great affection for us, and thought that they might never see us again; while others, more sanguine, prophesied all kinds of impossible honours as our share of the coming campaign. It was out of the questionto got away from these warm-hearted partisans, and it must have been nearly daybreak before we got to bed.
At 2 p.m. next day, after such a morning of work as I am in no hurry to experience again, the two companies paraded, and we marched down the hill to the harbour, headed by the band. I never saw Freetown in such a state of excitement; every road was crammed with men, women, and children, shouting, cheering, laughing, and crying, and the crush was so great that there was scarcely room for the column to march; but at last all were safely got on board, and at 5 p.m. the “Cameroon” steamed off direct for Cape Coast. We had on board forty-five tons of stores, two 4-2/5-inch howitzers, and almost all the ammunition of the Colony, the whole of which had been put on board in half-a-day.
Ashanti Politics since 1874—The Secession of Djuabin—Diplomatic Mistakes—The Conquest of Djuabin—The Importation of Rifles—The Attempt on Adansi—The Salt Scare—The Mission to Gaman and Sefwhee—Dissensions in Coomassie—The War Party.
Ashanti Politics since 1874—The Secession of Djuabin—Diplomatic Mistakes—The Conquest of Djuabin—The Importation of Rifles—The Attempt on Adansi—The Salt Scare—The Mission to Gaman and Sefwhee—Dissensions in Coomassie—The War Party.
While the “Cameroon” is on the way to Cape Coast Castle a shortrésuméof Ashanti politics from the close of the war of 1874 may, perhaps, be considered not out of place.
After the burning of Coomassie a bloodless revolution took place. King Quoffi Calcalli, or, as the natives pronounce it, Karri-Karri, was deposed, and his brother Osai Mensah reigned in his stead. The dethroned monarch should, in accordance with Ashanti etiquette, have committed suicide on being degraded from his position; he did not do so, however, and was permitted to go into retirement in the country, with a few followers.
About the same time, Asafu Agai, King of Djuabin, the chief feudatory of the Ashanti kingdom, seceded, taking with him the chiefs of Assuri, Affidguassi, and Insula, and formed the independent kingdom of Djuabin.
It was foreseen that the Ashantis, a proud and haughty race, would not submit tamely to the establishment of a rival power on their very border, especially when that rival had so recently been subject to them; and, towards the end of 1874, when matters began to assume a threatening aspect between the Ashantis and the Djuabins, Captain C. C. Lees was despatched to Coomassie by the Government of the Gold Coast Colony to preserve peace. Their recent defeat by the British was so fresh in their memory that the Ashantis were amenable to reason, and Captain Lees succeeded in persuading both Osai Mensah and Asafu Agai to swear to refrain from hostilities.
From that moment the Colonial Government withdrew from all active interference in the affairs of the tribes living beyond the boundaries of the Colony; and, although for the next four or five years the Ashantis left no stone unturned to regain their former position and undo the work done by Sir Garnet Wolseley, the Colonial Government merely looked on as passive spectators and allowed them to do it.
The policy of the Government of the Gold Coast appears to have been at this time one of strict non-intervention, but whether dictated by the Colonial Office or not, I cannot say. In any case it wasdiametrically opposed to the policy which had inaugurated the Ashanti war, and was most detrimental to British interests and influence. Having committed ourselves to the war of 1873-4, it was impossible to withdraw and say we would not interfere further. The chief military power of that portion of Africa had received a severe blow; the Ashanti kingdom had almost fallen to pieces; and, as the authors of the shock, we were responsible for the consequences. What would these consequences be? Either Ashanti would be split up into a number of insignificant independent chieftainships or regain its ascendancy, or Djuabin would assume the place lately held by Ashanti. It was evident that one of these three things would happen if we decided to take no part in occurrences beyond our frontier.
But which was the consummation that the wire-pullers at the Colonial Office desired? Surely not the first; for the breaking-up of Ashanti into two or three tribes, who would be independent of each other, would lead to constant petty wars, the closing of the roads, and the paralysation of commerce. Surely not the second; for, if Ashanti regained her ascendancy, the lives and treasure expended in the war of 1873-4 would be as so much waste. Surely not the third; for, if Djuabin became the dominant military power, what guarantee had we that she would not be equally,perhaps more, aggressive than Ashanti had been; and with what could we keep her in check?
Our policy at this time should clearly have been to play off Djuabin against Ashanti, to use the one to keep the other in check, just as might be required; if necessary, to support the one or the other by force of arms, so that the balance of power, which had happily taken place, should not be disturbed. Nothing could have been easier than to do this. If Ashanti should make war upon the Colony we could employ Djuabin to threaten Coomassie; and if the latter should menace our possessions we could let loose the Ashantis upon the Djuabin capital. As for preserving peace between the two rivals, our position on the sea-board within easy striking distance of each was admirable, and the two nations were so nearly equal in power and resources that an intimation from the Colonial Government to either of them which might seem disposed to provoke hostilities, that any act of aggression would be considered a declaration of war against England, would effectually have prevented any outbreak. This grand opportunity was unfortunately neglected, and the consequences have still to be suffered.
After Captain Lees’s mission to Coomassie and Djuabin the subtle Ashantis remained quiet until about July 1875, satisfying themselves with storing up supplies of salt, powder, and lead, and re-organizingtheir army, to the chief command of which Awooah, the brother of the late general, Amanquatia, succeeded. King Mensah also placed on record how keenly he felt the injustice of the British in not calling upon the king of Djuabin to pay a fair proportion of the war indemnity which had been inflicted on the entire kingdom by Sir Garnet Wolseley, the whole of which Ashanti, though reduced to half her former area, had now to pay.
In July, King Mensah addressed a letter to the European merchants of Cape Coast Castle, complaining of the action of the king of Djuabin, that he was kidnapping Ashantis living on the Djuabin frontier, and closing the roads to trade. This letter was duly forwarded to the Government, but only elicited from the Governor the reply “that he would act with reference to the affairs of the interior as seemed to him advisable.”
There can be no doubt but that the head of the king of Djuabin was turned by his sudden accession to power; he sent insulting messages to Mensah, invited the tribes within the protectorate to come and share the spoils of Coomassie with him; and by the middle of August 1875 the excitement on each side had become so intense that no mere negotiation or mediation could have averted war, whatever it might have effected if it had been employed at an earlier period.
Matters were further complicated by the mission to Coomassie of a Monsieur Bonnat, who was desirous of opening trade with Salagha, a large and populous Mohammedan town, said to be eight days’ journey to the north-east of Coomassie. M. Bonnat visited the Ashanti capital in company with Prince Ansah, the uncle of the king, and appears to have mixed himself up a great deal with native politics. From Coomassie he went to Djuabin, where he very naturally was regarded with suspicion, on account of the circumstances under which he had visited Coomassie. M. Bonnat was accompanied by a number of Ashantis as carriers and servants, and some sixty of these were murdered by the Djuabins. In extenuation of this outrage King Asafu Agai afterwards said the murder was ordered by the Keratchi fetish, which is the great fetish of Djuabin and of several other tribes of the interior.
War was now inevitable, but Osai Mensah was so afraid that Great Britain would interpose that he still delayed. Towards the end of September a freshcasus bellioccurred. The inhabitants of five villages on the borders of Djuabin notified to King Mensah their desire to secede from the kingdom of Djuabin and to be incorporated with that of Ashanti. Mensah accordingly sent some of his officers to these villages, where they were attacked by the Djuabins. In theskirmish which ensued the Djuabins were forced to retire, and the inhabitants of the five villages migrated into Ashanti.
When the news of this affair reached Cape Coast Castle the Government at last awoke to the fact that something ought to be done. They accordingly despatched an army surgeon, who was temporarily in their employ, with instructions, first, to proceed to Eastern Akim, and warn the king of that territory, who had been tampered with by the Djuabins, that he was not to take part in the probable hostilities; and, secondly, to proceed from Akim to Djuabin and Coomassie, and forbid the war, reminding the two kings of the oaths they had sworn to Captain Lees.
This officer left Accra on October 23rd, 1875, but his mission had been kept so little secret that his intended departure had been known for some time; and, a week before he left Accra, both Djuabin and Ashanti messengers had started from Cape Coast Castle to carry the intelligence to their respective masters, and to inform them that if they wanted to fight they must do so at once, “for the white man was coming to palaver.”
The Colonial envoy reached Kibbie in Eastern Akim on October 29th, and next day Djuabin messengers reached him with the intelligence that the Ashantis had invaded their country in two divisions,one of which was encamped within a few miles of the capital. On October 31st the town of Djuabin was attacked by the Ashantis, the conflict raged during the next two days, and on November 3rd the Djuabins were put to flight in every direction.
The envoy at once proceeded to Djuabin, which town he found in the hands of the Ashantis. Foreseeing that the prestige of this victory would do much to restore Ashanti to her former position, and cancel the beneficial results of the war of 1873-4, he wrote to the Governor at Cape Coast Castle recommending that Djuabin should be occupied by a British force. This proposal was not entertained. Indeed, it would have been injudicious in the extreme, with the handful of troops at the disposal of the Government, to endeavour to snatch the fruits of victory from a warlike people in their hour of triumph. Action of this kind should have been taken earlier, but the opportunity had been allowed to pass, and it was now too late.
The Djuabins, being short of munitions of war, could make but little headway against their opponents. The importation of arms and gunpowder was then prohibited on the Gold Coast, which embargo, while it did not affect the Ashantis, who could obtain what they required through the French port of Assinee, entirely prevented the Djuabins from replenishing their stock. A large supply of powder was, however,successfully smuggled up the Volta river by Djuabin agents and sent into Eastern Akim. A force of Constabulary was stationed there at the time, partly to disarm the fugitive Djuabins and prevent the Ashantis pursuing them into the protectorate, and partly to prevent the Akims aiding the Djuabins. The officer in command of this force somehow got wind of the smuggled powder. To an ordinary mind it would have appeared that, as the Djuabins were, in a measure, fighting our battles, this would have been a good opportunity for a display of that official blindness which is so frequently conspicuous at other times. The Constabulary officer thought otherwise; the powder was intercepted on the Djuabin frontier; and the Djuabins, being unable to continue the struggle, flocked by thousands into the protectorate. The Ashantis knew better than to follow the fugitives into our territory, and satisfied themselves with establishing their authority in Djuabin more firmly than ever. Some months later the Government discovered that Asafu Agai was meditating an attempt for the recovery of his throne; he was arrested with a promptness that is seldom displayed on the Gold Coast, and transported to Lagos.
The results of the victorious campaign were soon discernible in the altered tone of Osai Mensah. The surgeon who had proceeded to Djuabin went thenceto Coomassie, where he was treated with but scant courtesy and could effect nothing. Next by his behaviour, and the threatening attitude of his people to the officer sent to Coomassie for the instalment of the war indemnity then due, he, as I have related in Chapter III., so intimidated the Colonial Government that the question of the payment of that indemnity was allowed to drop, and has never since been revived. Thus in less than two years from the burning of Coomassie the Ashanti diplomacy had met with such success that Mensah had recovered the whole of the Djuabin territory, repudiated the payment of the war indemnity, re-established the prestige and power of the Ashanti name, and outwitted the Colonial Government upon every point.
In 1876 and 1877 the Ashantis occupied themselves with the internal administration of their newly-acquired territory, and in the purchase of breech-loading rifles, which they obtained principally through Assinee, though a considerable number were smuggled, viâ Danoe, the Quittah lagoon, and the Volta river, into Djuabin.
In 1878 the Colonial Government at last grasped the fact that the interdiction on the importation of arms and gunpowder only crippled the revenue of the Colony and the power of the protected tribes, without materially affecting those for whom it was speciallydesigned, and consequently withdrew it. No sooner was the prohibition at an end than the Ashantis, with an absence of disguise that was either the height of impudence or the most consummate diplomacy, imported Snider rifles at Cape Coast itself. On one occasion, towards the end of December 1878, a batch of some three hundred arrived, consigned to Prince Ansah at Cape Coast, and were duly received by Ashanti carriers who had been waiting for them. As they were being transported to Prahou, the Fantis of Dunquah, who seemed to be of opinion that it was not politic to allow the Ashantis to possess such weapons, intercepted the convoy and brought back the rifles to the District-Commissioner at Cape Coast. To their surprise they were only reprimanded for their pains, and the Ashantis, protected by an escort, were conducted with their purchases in safety to Prahou.
Being now the happy possessors of a considerable number of breech-loaders, the Ashantis conceived the plan of forming a corps of Houssas, who would instruct the Ashanti army in the use of the new weapon. To induce trained men of this race to desert from the Gold Coast Constabulary, Mensah offered pay at double the rate paid by the Colonial Government, free rations, and some local privileges. The percentage of desertions from the Constabulary, always alarmingly high, at once increased: and thesedeserters assumed the newrôleof musketry instructors to the Ashanti army. As they knew almost nothing themselves, they could not impart much information to their pupils. A German, who had been wandering about the interior for some time, made himself useful in the formation of thiscorps d’élite, and brought down Houssas from Salagha for the King.
There was nothing new in this endeavour to induce Houssas in British pay to betray their trust. About September 1875, when M. Bonnat visited Djuabin, he found some of the men of the Gold Coast Constabulary armed, and dressed in the uniform of the force, in the service of the King of that territory, and Asafu Agai had endeavoured by means of them to prevent M. Bonnat returning to Coomassie. The causes that led to the numerous desertions were not difficult to find. The Houssa Constabulary was and is a purely mercenary body, ready to sell their services to the highest bidder. In the days when Capt., now Sir John, Glover, R.N., organised the nucleus of this force at Lagos, a man enlisted for life service; he looked upon the Government henceforward as a paternal power, which he would serve as long as his health and strength admitted, and which, when he became old, would grant him an annuity or gratuity on retirement. They were satisfied with this state of things and were loyal to the backbone. In1876, when the Houssa Constabulary was being reorganized, by a most short-sighted policy the term of enlistment was limited to three years. Now short service, however excellent it may be with Europeans and in countries where it is desirable to form rapidly a large reserve, is undoubtedly a mistake with semi-civilized or barbarous peoples. The Houssas now saw themselves liable to be cast adrift after three years’ service; their engagement was no longer a life engagement, there was no gratuity or annuity to be earned by long and faithful service; and so, if a man had an opportunity of bettering his condition, there was nothing to be lost by his at once taking advantage of it. At the termination of his three years he would be discharged without any pension; why then should he not desert and accept the higher rate of pay offered by King Mensah? If the latter did not require his services longer than the Colonial Government would have done, he would still be a gainer; and the probability was that he would be retained for life. Being bound by no consideration for their oath of fealty, they argued in this way, and deserted.
In the spring of 1879, the Ashantis, having perfected their military arrangements, began to look about for some further accession of territory. At this time, a Mr. Huydekuper, one of those semi-educated and unscrupulous negroes with which the Englishsystem of Mission Schools has afflicted the Gold Coast Colony, was at Coomassie. He had been, I believe, a clerk in a Government office, and was in high favour with, and a confidential adviser of, King Mensah. This man, using his knowledge of official forms, drew up fictitious despatches, and, accompanied by Mr. Nielson (the German who had rendered himself useful in the formation of the Ashanti corps of Houssas), and a retinue of court-criers and officials from the Ashanti court, proceeded to Gaman, a kingdom which lies to the north-west of Ashanti, on a diplomatic mission. This mission was arranged under the superintendence of Prince Ansah, and its object was nothing less than to inform the king of Gaman, in the name of the Governor of the Gold Coast Colony, “that the Queen of England had given the whole country from Kerinkando, near Assinee, to Dahomey, to the king of Ashanti, and that the king of Gaman was to swear to be subject to the king of Ashanti.” Before reaching Buntuku, the capital of Gaman, Mr. Nielson died of fever, and the mainspring of the mission, so to speak, was lost. Nevertheless Mr. Huydekuper proceeded and delivered his message, producing his manufactured despatches in support of his statement. He stated that the Queen of England had given Ashanti dominion over all inland tribes, and that he was ordered to administer to the king of Gaman an oath of allegiance to King Mensah.
This intelligence, coming, as the Gamans at first believed, from a fully-accredited ambassador of the Government, created the greatest consternation among that section of the tribe which was hostile to the Ashantis. The news spread like wild-fire to the Safwhees, a tribe inhabiting the country to the west of Ashanti and to the south of Gaman, and from them to the Denkeras. But for the death of Mr. Nielson it is impossible to say what authority the Ashantis would not have succeeded in gaining over these tribes.
While this little comedy was being enacted in the north, the Ashantis endeavoured to coerce the people of Adansi, which kingdom was formerly the smallest feudatory state of Ashanti, into returning to their old allegiance. A portion of the Adansis were anxious to do this, but the king, not being by any means desirous of resigning his late-won independence, sent messengers to the Colonial Government at Accra. Fortunately for the maintenance of British authority on the Gold Coast, Capt. C. C. Lees, the officer who had succeeded in averting hostilities between Ashanti and Djuabin in 1874, was administering the Government of the Colony. Being the exponent of the true and only effective policy in West Africa, he took up the threads of diplomacy where they had been dropped by the non-intervening Governor in 1875, and despatched the acting Colonial Secretary to Adansi with full powers. The mission was entirely successful, and the Ashantisreturned to Coomassie baffled for once. So wedded, however, were the Colonial Office to their policy of non-intervention, that, although this was the first success after several years of diplomatic failures, they found fault with the Acting-Governor for what he had done. Sir Michael Hicks-Beach in his despatch said—“the action which you took was of a character which might possibly have placed the Local Government, and ultimately the Imperial Government, in some embarrassment, should the Ashantis decline to comply with the demands made upon them[1]... Adansi is not within the protectorate, and the question of requiring the observance of the third article of the Treaty of Fommanagh[2]is one of external policy, on which the Government of the Gold Coast should refrain, unless in case of urgent necessity, from definite action until Her Majesty’s Government had decided whether the action proposed was proper and opportune, having regard to the general interests of the empire. I have to request that in future you will bear this caution in mind, and that you will take no further steps in the matter now under consideration without the previous sanction of Her Majesty’s Government.” Fortunately, before the receipt of thisletter, Capt. Lees had taken further energetic action, which, had it been delayed until permission had been obtained from England, would have been too late.
Immediately after this success on the part of the Government, Ashantis appeared simultaneously at all the ports on the Gold Coast, and purchased salt in immense quantities. Those who were best qualified to judge of native questions considered that this was one of the worst signs of the times. No salt is produced in the interior of this portion of Africa, and in some parts of the inland plateaus it is worth almost its weight in gold; being a necessary of life it must be had, and large quantities are exported to the Gold Coast from Europe. Ordinarily, in peaceable times, the Ashantis buy it as they require it, individually; when, therefore, there seemed to be a sudden national movement for the purchase of that commodity, it appeared as if the Ashantis feared that the supply was about to be cut off, and were storing it up against that contingency. As the supply could only be cut off by the Colonial sea-board being closed against them, this action on their part seemed to show that they premeditated coming into collision with the coast tribes, that is, ultimately with the British; and when their late purchases of arms and manœuvre in the north were called to mind this became still more probable. In 1881 it transpired that an invasionof Adansi was under consideration at this time, and was only postponed on account of the Colonial mission to Gaman.
While all this was going on, in April 1879 a mixed embassy of Gamans and Sefwhees arrived at Cape Coast. These envoys had been sent by the kings of their respective states to ascertain what truth lay in the statements which had been made by Mr. Huydekuper. As soon as they learned that that individual was an impostor, the Gaman ambassadors stated that their king had made him a prisoner; while the representatives of both tribes asserted that their countrymen were unanimous in desiring to maintain their independence, and that both peoples alike bore a deadly hatred to everything appertaining to Ashanti. They asked that an officer might return to Gaman with them, as otherwise they might not be believed in what they had to say about Mr. Huydekuper; and the Government, following up its more recent and more enlightened policy, acquiesced.
Mr. John Smith was the officer selected by the Colonial Government to proceed to Gaman. Of that country nothing was then known beyond the fact that it had been engaged in several wars with Ashanti in the last decade of the eighteenth century. Sir John Dalrymple Hay, indeed, in his “Ashantiand the Gold Coast,” speaks (pp. 28 and 29) of “the plains of Massa,” “the Gaman cavalry,” and “the Mahometan soldiery of Gaman”; and that people was popularly believed to be an offshoot of the Houssa tribes and to possess Houssa characteristics. It was reserved for Mr. Smith to explode all these theories, and to make it known that the Gaman territory was covered with forest, like that of Ashanti, and that the people were fetish-worshippers, differing in no important particulars from the tribes in their neighbourhood.