Chapter IX

THE RECEPTION.

Marshalled by “Silver Bell and Giraffe Horns,” we entered the royal gate, first removing our swords and closing our umbrellas, which may not appear before the King.[240] We were told to walk hurriedly across the nearer half of the palace yard, and presently we halted at a circle of pure loose white sand, where the ministers prostrated themselves—silex, not mud, being Court powder for the great in Dahome. There we doffed hats and caps, and waving them in the right hand, bowed four several times to a figure that was sitting under the chiar’oscuro of the thatch, and was, we were told, returning our compliments.

This preliminary over, we were made to advance very slowly—the native officials bending almost double, and uttering in drawn out unison “á—á—á!” to warn the Court that others besides the inmates of the palace were approaching. A few steps placed us close to the King, who merits especial notice.

Gelele,[241] also known as Dahome-Dadda—the grandfather of Dahome—is in the full vigour of life, from forty to forty-five, before the days of increasing belly and decreasing leg. He looks a king of (negro) men, without tenderness of heart or weakness of head, and he appears in form and complexion the κάλλιστος ἀνὴρ of this black Iliad. His person is athletic, upwards of six feet high, lithe, agile, thin flanked and broad shouldered, with muscular limbs, well turned wrists and neat ankles, but a distinctly cucumber-shaped shin. The skull is rounded and well set on: the organs of locality stand prominently out; a slight baldness appears upon the poll, and the “regions of cautiousness” are covered by two cockade-like tufts of hair, mostly worn in Dahome for the purpose of attaching coral, Popo-beads, or brass and silver conelets. His hair, generally close shaven, is of the peppercorn variety, the eyebrows are scant, the beard is thin, and the moustachios are thinner. He has not his father’s receding forehead, nor the vanishing chin which distinguishes the multitude: his strong jaw renders the face indeed “jowly” rather than oval, consequently the expression is normally hard, though open and not ill-humoured, whilst the smile which comes out of it is pleasant. His nails are allowed to attain mandarin-length[242]: the African king must show that he is an eater of meat, not of “monkey’s food”—fruits and vegetables. Moreover, talons are useful amongst ragoûts, in lands where no man has yet been called furcifer. His sub-tumid lips disclose white, strong, and sound teeth, the inner surfaces being somewhat blackened by tobacco. His eyes are red, bleared, and inflamed, betraying an opacity of the cornea which may end in blindness. An ophthalmist might here thrive upon the smallest display of skill. This complaint is not the gift of rum, for the King is a very moderate drinker, and prefers wines and beer, of which he has an ample store, to rum and gin. The glare of the country, the Harmattan winds, the exposure during the long reception hours, perpetual smoking, and lastly, a somewhat excessive devotion to Venus, are the causes. The nose is distinctly retroussé, quasi-negro, anti-aquiline, looking in fact as if all the lines had been turned the wrong way,—this mean and hideous concave is the African substitute for the beautiful, the sympathetic, and the noble convexity of the Caucasian,—but it is not much flattened, nor does it wholly want bridge. The lines of wrinkle subtending the corners of the mouth are deeply, but not viciously, marked: and the same may be said concerning the crumpling of the forehead during momentary excitement. According to some, he is afflicted with chronic renal disease. He has suffered severely from the small-pox—the national scourge—which has by no means spared his race.[243] The only vestage of tattoo is the usual Dahoman mark, three short parallel and perpendicular lancet cuts, situated nearer the scalp than the eyebrows, a little above the place where the latter meet the zygomata.

M. Wallon, who probably never saw the present ruler, declares that he exactly resembles Gezo, whereas the latter was extremely dark-complexioned.[244] Also we read of his character: “Rusé, tenace et très dissimulé, il est aussi plus intéressé que son père, et passe pour très cruel.” But Gelele always disliked and distrusted Frenchmen—en animam et mentem! There can be no greater contrast than that between the sovereign and the ignoble-looking lieges, who, Hindu-like, after a certain age, either shrivel to skeletons or distend to treble bulk, and who, though rarely resembling the typical negro of the text book,[245] are not unfrequently black as ill-brushed boots. The pure reddish-brown of his skin, not unlike that of the so-called copper-coloured Indian, and several shades lighter than the lightest to be seen at his Court, confirms the general report that his mother is a slave-girl from the northern Makhi[246]: others whisper that she is a mulatto from the French factory, Whydah.

Like Gezo, Gezo’s son and heir affects a dress simple to excess. His head is often bare: on this occasion he wore a short cylindrical straw cap, with a ribbon-band of purple velvet round the middle. A Bo-fetish against sickness, in the shape of a human incisor, strung below the crown, and a single blue Popo-bead, of little value, was hanging to a thick thread about his neck. Despising the Bonugan-ton, or broad silver armlets of his caboceers, he contented himself with a narrow armillary iron ring, of the kind called “abagan” and “alogan,” round his right arm. Above and below the elbow of the left he wore five similar bracelets; these ornaments were apparently invented to save the limb when warding off a sabre-cut from the head. The body-cloth was plain fine white stuff, with a narrow edging of watered green silk and as it sat loose around the middle, decorum was consulted by drawers of purple-flowered silk hardly reaching to mid thigh. The sandals, here an emblem of royalty, showed some splendour. They were of Moorish shape, with gold embroidery upon a scarlet ground, two large crosses of yellow metal being especially conspicuous. Altogether, the dress, though simple, was effective, and it admirably set off the manly and stalwart form.

The King was sitting under the deep shade of the kind of shed-gate before described. His throne, the “Pwe,” or earthbench, on the right of one entering, was about three feet high, and was strewed with the red, blue, and striped cotton cloths made in the palace. The two near posts propping the eaves were swathed with red and white calicos, whilst the others were chocolate stuff sprinkled blue. The left elbow of royalty rested upon a cushion of crimson velvet, with a narrow band of bright yellow satin and lappets, upon which appeared the royal emblem, the Cross. The King was smoking the weed in a long-stemmed silver-mounted article of native manufacture[247]: he manifestly thinks there is nothing melius quam pipe o’ tobacco, yet this excess one must say must somewhat militate against his success with the sex.

A throng of unarmed women, the royal spouses, sat in a semicircle behind the King under the same thatch, the warrioresses being on stools, or at squat outside, and through the open entrance slave-girls peeped at the proceedings. I regret to say that not a pretty face appeared; most of the “fair sex” had sooty skins, and the few browns showed negro features. They atoned for this homeliness by an extreme devotion to their lord and master: woman’s position on earth, say Easterns, is to look up to somebody, and these certainly do, so far, their duty. It is no wonder that the King of Dahome’s soul, like my “Lord Keeper’s,” lodges well. If perspiration appears upon the royal brow it is instantly removed with the softest cloth by the gentlest hands; if the royal dress be disarranged, it is at once adjusted; if the royal lips move, a plated spittoon, which, when Mr. Norris wrote, was gold, held by one of the wives, is moved within convenient distance; if the King sneezes,[248] all present touch the ground with their foreheads; if he drinks, every lip utters an exclamation of blessing. This intense personal veneration reminded me of the accounts of Mohammed the apostle and of his followers left by contemporary writers. But without analyzing too far, I suspect that in Dahome it is rather the principle than the person that is respected, the despotism more than the despot, the turband rather than the wearer: that were the King to be succeeded on the morrow, the same semi-idolatry would be heaped upon his successor. However that may be, the Dahoman King must only condescend to live,—all, save what must necessarily be done by himself, is done for him. Such a life appears wearisome; but kings are unlike common men, and the ways of princes are mysteries to the multitude. To this exceeding care only can be attributed the protracted reigns of a dynasty, whose eight members have sat upon the throne 252 years, thus rivalling the seven Roman monarchs whose rule extended over nearly the same period, and has caused them to be held fabulous or typical.

We walked towards the entrance down the clear lane hedged by squatting Amazons, and we formed up in a group close to and opposite the King. The Meu, and his dependent the English landlord, who acted as it were our sponsors, supported our right, the Yevo-gan and the Junior Min-gan our left, and all reclined upon the ground in the position of Romans upon the triclinium.

After the usual quadruple bowings and hand wavings, the King arose, tucked in his toga, descended from his estrade, donned his slippers—each act being aided by some dozen nimble feminine fingers—and advancing, greeted me with sundry vigorous wrings à la John Bull.[249] Still grasping my hand, he inquired after the health of the sovereign, the ministry, and the people of England, which he and his naturally suppose to be a little larger and a much richer Dahome surrounded by water. He then asked more particularly concerning the To-ji-’khosu[250] or Commodore, the Gau or Captain Luce, and the Amma-sin-blu-to or Dr. Haran, his last year’s visitors. Gelele is said to have a right royal recollection of faces, names, and histories. A long compliment was paid to me upon my having kept word in returning: I had promised on a previous occasion to apply for permission to revisit Dahome, and here to redeem a promise is a thing unknown. The King frequently afterwards referred to this trifle, attaching great importance to truth-telling, and assuring me that it made me his good friend.[251] It reminded me of—

Beholde the manne! he spake the truthe,

Hee’s greater than a kynge!

He then finally snapped fingers with a will. Mr. Cruikshank wore a naval frock, which looked dull near a scarlet uniform, having no epaulettes; his accueil was less ceremonious. Lastly, the Reverend received the greeting of a friend, and the King, before returning to his seat, kindly noticed the boy Tom.

Our stools were placed before the throne, and we sat whilst the materials for health-drinking were taken from under a red calico cloth which lay upon a ricketty table near the entrance, with legs once gilt. It is not customary to address royalty, even though the presentee be acquainted with the language.[252] The sovereign’s words are spoken to the Meu, who informs the interpreter, who passes it on to the visitor, and the answer must trickle back through the same channels. It is evident the King will never hear anything offensive, and that he will ignore all beyond his actual inspection. I at once saw the necessity of attacking the dialect, and, despite the nervous terrors of the hen-hearted Beecham, who seemed to think teaching treason, I had the satisfaction, before departure, of understanding most conversations in Ffon, and of being able to join in a simple dialogue.

After Sin-diyye! and Sin-ko! we drank in three several liquors to the health of the Sovereign, the Commodore and my humble self. After bowing and touching glasses, the King suddenly wheeled round, whilst two wives stretched a white calico cloth by way of a screen before him, and another pair opened small and gaudy parasols, so as completely to conceal his figure from our gaze. There was a prodigious outburst of noise. Guns were fired, “Amazons” tinkled bells, and sprang kra-kra, or watchmen’s rattles, ministers bent to the ground clapping their palms, and commoners bawled “Po-o-o” (i.e., “Bleo!”—“Take it easy!”), cowering to avoid the dread sight, turning their backs if sitting, and if standing they danced like bears, or they paddled their hands like the forefeet of a swimming dog. We were not expected to move.[253]

After the “toasts,” salutes were fired,—the first for royalty; the second, of eleven guns, for the Commodore; and the third, of nine, for myself. I at once objected, and demanded the same number as my predecessor, and when Mr. Beecham, who had turned blue, could be persuaded to interpret my words, the King at once ordered two more to be fired, and made excuses for the mistake. When this was done, we were informed, according to custom, that another deputation was to be received. There is no necessity here for backing out of the presence, the dorsum indeed, when dancing, is presented to majesty more often than the front. We, therefore, turned and moved about 100 feet outside the King’s thatch, to the place where our stools had been ranged fronting the north. We were thus amongst the caboceers of the Meu’s party—about a score—on the proper left of the throne, and with us were the Po-su, or left-hand Sub-Commander-in-Chief, the two Yevo-gans, and the English landlord. We were separated from the Min-gan, the Gau, and the other right-hand chiefs by a few paces, the prolongation of the clear passage lined with sitting Amazons, and leading to the throne. Thus the King could command an uninterrupted view of the bottom of the court.

Here, comfortably established under the gorgeous tent-canopy, called in Ashanti and Dahome an umbrella, I produced my adversaria and sketch-books. The King is always pleased to see this, and his father Gezo, when visited by Mr. Duncan, sent to the palace for paper that everything might be described by him[254]: without the aid of writing it would be impossible to remember half the complications which occur during these receptions. More than once in after-times the King sent to me his compliments and thanks, telling me that no white man had ever before taken so much trouble, and that everything should be shown to me. The Pagan African is, in this point, a great contrast to his more civilised Moslem brother, and to the wilder tribes of Asia, who fear the pen as they do the fiend.

I now proceed to portray the salient features of the King’s levée. It was to me the most interesting scene in Dahome, showing more of picturesqueness and less of grotesqueness and tragedy than any other.

The long barn under which Gelele sat was built against the eastern wall, which was clay; fresh palm leaves, matted and planted as a fence, forming the other three sides of the oblong court. The regularity was relieved by a few poor sheds, and the only objects of remark in the yard were the familiar bundles of fetish sticks and a pollarded tree supporting an earthenware pot, with two pennons on tall poles. Along the shed, which was confined to the King and his wives, ran a line of four-and-twenty umbrellas, forming an extempore verandah. Those on the flanks were white, and mostly very ragged, sheltering the chieftainesses of the she-soldiers: in the centre, denoting the place where the King sat, they affected the gaudish tulip tints, dazzling hues, variegated, yet in perfect harmonies—scarlet, tender green, purple, white, and light blue: an especial favourite was red and yellow; it is called in England Satan’s livery, but when massed, it excites the eye. These richly tinted umbrella-canopies are forbidden to all save royalty, and the King takes no little pride in them.[255]

The only difference between the outer and the inner court is this—the former is a parade of the male, the latter of the female soldiers, and the first glance shows that both bodies exactly correspond. Mid-ribs of bamboo-palm (Raphia vinifera), in single line, lie on the ground separating the sexes; this thin barrier no one is allowed to pass. The instrument of communication is the Mahaikpa, a princess who has not been seen for two years, and who consequently may be dead. Below the throne there is always one of her retainers, the “Dakro,” a middle-aged woman, formerly attached to Gezo’s Court, and a mighty stickler for ceremony. The Dakro bears messages from the King to the Meu, who passes on the words to the Min-gan, whence they find their way to the many. She walks out of the shed holding a war stick in her right hand, places it on the earth, kneels close behind the bamboo line, and resting elbows on thighs, or sometimes with one hand on the ground, whispers her errand, almost touching heads. As a rule she goes on all fours to the Meu, and only kneels to smaller men, who become quadrupeds to her. A favourite gesture with both sexes here is to smooth the ground before them with one or both palms, clearing as it were the place for prostration: it is the whittling of the Yankee, and it serves to conceal thought. The message is received by the minister in a similar position, the feet resting upon the toes and the heels supporting the posteriors. After obtaining the answer the Dakro rises, returns to within the barn, makes obeisance, and placing herself on all fours—the nearest approach to our brethren of the field since the days of Nebuchadnezzar—either upon the ground or upon a mat, before and close to the King, duly delivers it to the royal ears. Nothing but the prodigious memory for trifles possessed by this people prevents a communication that travels so far from losing all its original sense.

Outside the bamboos, divided, as has been said, into two distinct groups, stand the ministers. All are in their richest attire, gay with tunics of bright silk and satin. The Min-gan wears eight necklaces, with a silver ornament like a fleur-de-lis or trefoil, hanging upon his breast. The Meu has doffed his alpaca jacket, displays fine and valuable pink coral in long strings, with thin thread pigtails lashed on to them, silver armlets adorned with the British Lion, and with two quasi-human heads which may have belonged to William and Mary; whilst the emblem of Christianity, in gold, depends from his neck. But the crucifix is strangely altered, the crucified being a chameleon, the venerable emblem of the rainbow-god. This is not done par malice, like the ass placed by the irreverent caricaturist upon what is, according to Dr. Rossi, the earliest known cross—it is the simple instinct of a barbarous race. The Adanejan, or assistant Min-gan, is more than usually gorgeous. He is a huge Cyclops of a black, with a jetty face, at least one size larger than his brain-pan, and a faux air de jeune homme, effected by close shaving his stiff whitey-grey beard and hair. Though long past “frightful forty,” he is much addicted to women, and he is ever “chaffing” the Reverend about marrying a daughter to him. A great trencherman, with a rollicking laugh that quakes his fat sides, the big eupatrid is of somewhat offensive presence; he is moreover a professed beggar, and what meets his touch never leaves it.

Non fuit Autolyci tam piceata manus.

The Gau is rendered conspicuous by his big brass bracelets. The surly Po-su wears four brass rings on his left arm, and his forehead is always ceremoniously marked with white sand or red earth. All the lesser fry are clad like their betters, in tunics of rich native cloth, and ornamented with horns, silver bracelets, armlets, crucifixes, trefoil-shaped articles, and necklaces, of which some wore as many as ten; Popo-beads, large and small; coral, red and pink; blue and white glass beads; green, yellow, and variegated pottery; while some have neck-ropes of black and blue seed beads disposed in patterns.

On the King’s proper right, in the ring presided over by the Khe-tun-gan (female Gau, or Commander-in-Chief), and outside the big barn, enthroned on a lofty chair, sat the Akutu; she is captainess of King Gezo’s life-guards, called the ’Mman, or Madmen, the Bashi Buzuks, or Enfans Perdus of the Dahoman host. This dignitary is a huge old porpoise, wearing a bonnet shaped like that of a French cordon bleu, but pink and white below, with two crocodiles of blue cloth on the top, and the whole confined by silver horns and their lanyard. To the left of royalty, more in the open and under a tent-umbrella, upon as tall a seat as the Akutu enjoyed, is the Humbagi, the corresponding veteraness on the Meu’s side. She is also vast in breadth, and a hammer-head in silver projecting from her forehead, gives her the semblance of a unicorn. As a rule the warrioresses begin to fatten when their dancing days are passed, and some of them are prodigies of obesity.

The flower of the host was the mixed company of young Amazons lately raised by the King; this corps, standing to the north of the palace yard, and on the right of the throne, was evidently composed of the largest and finest women in the service. Behind it stood its band, a Chingufu or African cymbal, two small tom-toms held under the arm, and four kettledrums of sizes, beaten with hand or stick. The newly-chosen company apparently contained two hundred, and the whole court certainly did not show more than one thousand. Some Amazons, however, are now absent, attacking, I have said, a village in the Makhi country, which distinguished itself by grossly insulting the King, by threatening to kill him and his army. They will have an easy victory.[256]

The gala-dress of the guardesses was decent, and not uncomely. A narrow fillet of blue or white cotton bound the hair, and the bosom was concealed by a sleeveless waistcoat of various colours, giving freedom to the arms, and buttoning in front like that affected by Hausa Moslems. The loin wrapper, of dyed stuff, mostly blue, pink, and yellow, extended to the ancles, and was kept tight round the waist by a sash, generally white, with long ends depending on the left. The body toilette was rendered more compact by an outer girthing of cartridge-box and belt, European-shaped, but home-made, of black leather, adorned with cowries; or of bandoleers, containing in separate compartments twelve to sixteen wooden gunpowder boxes, like cases for lucifer matches. The bullet-bag, with a few iron balls, hung by a shoulder strap to the dexter side, and was preserved in position by being passed under the cartridge-belt. All had knives, or short Dahoman falchions,[257] in shape not unlike, though smaller than, that most fatal—to the wearer—of all weapons, the old French briquet. The firelock, a good solid Tower-marked article,[258] was guarded by sundry charms, and protected from damp by a case of black monkey-skin tightly clasping the breeching, and opening to the rear. Many had long tassels dangling from the barrels.

The only other peculiarity in the court was a row of three large calabashes, ranged on the ground before and a little to the left of royalty. They contain the calvariæ of the three chiefs amongst forty kings, or petty headmen said to have been destroyed by Gelele: and they are rarely absent from the royal levées. A European would imagine these relics to be treated with mockery; whereas the contrary is the case. So the King Sinmenkpen (Adahoonzou II.), after unwrapping an enemy’s cranium, said to Mr. Norris, “If I should fall into hostile hands, I should wish to be treated with that decency of which I set the example.” The first skull was that of Akia’on, chief of Attako (Taccow), near “Porto Novo,” which was destroyed about three years ago. Beautifully white and polished, it is mounted in a ship or galley of thin brass about a foot long, with two masts, and jibboom, rattlings, anchor, and four portholes on each side, one pair being in the raised quarter-deck. When King Gezo died, his successor received a message from this chief, that all men were now truly joyful, that the sea had dried up, and that the world had seen the bottom of Dahome. Gelele rejoined by slaying him, and by mounting his skull in a ship, meaning that there is still water enough to float the kingdom, and that if the father is dead the son is alive. The second cranium, which also was well-boiled, and which, like the rest, wanted the lower jaw,[259] was that of Bakoko of Ishagga. It was crossed at right angles by four bars of bright brass; a thin mask of the same metal, rudely marked with eyes and unraised nose, gave it a monkey-like appearance. On the poll, and where the bars met, was a brass bowl with a tip like a calabash stalk, by which the upper half could be raised, to serve as a drinking-cup: this, when viewed in front, looked somewhat like a Phrygian cap, or a knightly helmet. During Gelele’s attack upon Abeokuta, in 1851, the people of Ishagga behaved with consummate treachery, which eleven years afterwards was terribly punished by the present ruler. Bakoko was put to death, and as a sign that he ought to have given water to a friend in affliction, men now drink from his recreant head. The third calvaria, also washed, was that of Flado, an Abeokutan general, sent to the aid of the Ishaggas. Along the ridge crown of the head ran a broad leaf in brass, to which was attached a thick copper wire and a chain which can raise it from its base; the latter is an imitation in brass of a country-trap; whilst a small white flag and cloth are wound round the stout wire. This showed that Flado fell into the pit which he dug for another.[260]

Whilst the soldiery of picked women danced and sang, the deputation of four Moslems was brought in by the Min-gan. The captains who had charge of them prostrated themselves upon the clay, not the sand-ring[261] nearer the throne, and shovelled it up by handfuls over their heads and arms, showing that they were of lower rank than the ministers. This is the ceremonial which every writer upon Dahoman subjects finds so degrading, and with which the traveller meets in almost all semi-barbarous societies, especially in negro and negroid kingdoms, since the days of Leo Africanus. The Itte d’ai, or “lying on ground,” is a strictly scriptural prostration,[262] and it corresponds with the “shashtanga” of the Hindus, and with the Chinese “kow-tow.” At the court of the Cazembe in South-Eastern Africa, and in the equatorial kingdom of Uganda, it is practised exactly as in Dahome. In the Congo regions, prostration is made, the earth is kissed, and dust is strewed over the forehead and arms, before every petty Banza or village chief. According to Barbot (1700), the interpreter of the “King of Zair,” probably Boma, vulgarly Embomma, after rubbing his hands and face in the dust, “took one of the royal feet in his hands, spat on the sole thereof and licked it with his tongue.” It is doubtless the origin of “sijdah” amongst Moslems, who hold a dusty forehead to be mubarak, or of good omen; and the Shi’ah heresy rests the prostrated brow upon small flat cakes of the earth of Kerbela, much renowned for martyrs. The Mohammedans of Senegal have also learned to throw sand or earth with both hands over their own heads. Ibn Batutah has described the wallowing and dusting of the older Nigrotic Courts. Jobson remarked the same at Tenda, Clapperton at Oyo, and Denham amongst the “Musgows.”

The fact is, that salutations are of three kinds over all the world, either a movement of the saluter’s body, or touching some part of the salutee’s person, or, lastly, adding to or taking from the dress. Here the ceremony typifies the state of society. There is, in Dahome, absolutely no rank between the king and the servile; so complete is the despotism that, as in Japan,[263] unlawful wounding would be punished, not for injuring a member of society, but for doing harm to the king’s slave. All being equally nothing in the royal presence, they there must behave accordingly; but when outside the palace, these high potentates expect the commonalty to kneel, to kiss the ground, and to clap hands before them, as if they were kings.

The full salutation of men and women, which I shall call “making obeisance,” consists of two actions. The first is the “Itte d’ai,” or prostration,—the Doballe of the Egbas, or Abeokutans. The saluter falls prone with his head, if a grandee, in the white sand; he rubs the forehead on the ground, touches earth with both cheeks, and kisses it, taking particular care that as much as possible may adhere to his vasty lips, and often rubbing the dust over his face with the right hand; he now claps hands, three sets of clappings being the normal number, and if more than one be doing it at once, the cue is given and admirable time is kept. Then he performs ko-dide,[264] pouring the sand or earth by handfuls over his scalp or hair, where it sticks for a long time. There is no fixed number of shovellings; the more plentifully the fine garments are sand-bathed the more humility is displayed. I cannot, however, like others, consider the practice wholly uncleanly; at any rate it promotes cleanliness, by rendering ablution necessary on return home. After the arms have been as well dusted as the head, face, and raiment, kneeling and lip-rubbing conclude the ceremony.

There are many minor modifications, or rather parts of obeisance, which I shall call “saluting.” These are actions accompanying the return of thanks for an address by the King, or when it is deemed right to address royalty.

The highest officers lie before the King in the position of Romans upon the triclinium. At times they roll over upon their bellies, or relieve themselves by standing “on all fours.” When approaching royalty they either crawl like snakes, or shuffle forward on their knees. During the levée they must raise frequent cries of “Akhosu li akhosu!” literally, “King all (i.e., of all) Kings!” and “Akhosu te te le!”—“Small, small Kings!” meaning that before this mighty “Cham” all other monarchs are boys. The messengeress, when summoning a subject to the presence, says, “Se iro we!”—“The Se, or spirit,[265] requires you!” When the King has spoken, all exclaim “Se do Nugbo!”—“the spirit speaketh true!” to which some add, “moen de!”—“So it is!” an historical phrase often preceded by “nagboe!”—“It is true!”

From these appearances a stranger, like Dr. M‘Leod, is apt to conclude that the Dahoman king represents, like the Shahanshahs of ancient Persia, a king of God upon earth, and that he can daily act out, whenever he is “i’ the vein,” even with the proudest in his dominions, Henry the Fifth’s “You are a liar!” with the speedy conclusion, “By my head thou shalt lose thy head!” This is far from being the case, as the more observing former travellers well knew.[266] The ministers,[267] war captains, and fetisheers may be, and often are, individually punished by the King: collectively they are too strong for him, and without their cordial co-operation he would soon cease to reign. And this apparently perfect subjection of the inferior to the superior runs through every grade of Dahoman society. The “Frippons, or common scoundrel blacks,” as the old writer calls them, kneel and clap hands before the patrician, as if the latter were their proprietor; they listen to every order with religious attention, and afterwards they obey it or not exactly as they please.[268] Except in the case of serfs, slaves, and captives, there is throughout Dahome, and I may say Africa, more of real liberty and equality—I will not add fraternity—than in any other quarter of the globe, and the presence of the servile renders the freemen only freer and more equal.

The Moslems of the “Porto Novo” deputation resembled Bambarra men; one, however, was fair as an Arab. They wore white turbands over tall red caps, large broad trousers, and the “Guinea fowl” embroidered robe of Yoruba. Behind them sat their band, four co-religionists, in white calottes and meaner robes. The only instruments were tom-toms. There were also a few Kafirs, or pagans, that seemed attached, probably as carriers, to the party. These men had been sent by the King’s brother, of “Porto Novo,” about which there was much excitement, to the great disfavour of the French Protectorate.

Whilst the Min-gan who presented these men “made obeisance,” the Moslems sat gravely on the clay-ground, at a distance from the King. Then one of the Alufa,[269] with hands upraised in the prayer position, recited by heart long, fluent orisons, concluded, as usual, by drawing the palms down the face. The introducer, who sat with his back to the King, imitated every gesture of the visitor. Although the Moslem countenance expressed some awe at the apparatus in the palace, it well maintained before this heathenry the dignity of the Safe Faith.

Finally the Dakro woman at the foot of the throne brought in due form a welcome from the King to his brother’s envoys. The heathen again powdered themselves with dust, and the Moslems bent towards the ground. This was a signal to the female attendants, who, after a startling clash and clang of cymbals, neckbells, and rattles, presented arms à la Dahome,—the guns being raised in the air. The mixed company of beauties performed sundry dances. Presents and drink, in sign of dismissal, were sent to the deputation; the Moslems took the water, the Kafirs two flasks of rum, whilst two baskets (= 20 heads, or £2) of cowries and five baskets of food were served out to the whole party. The gift was received by the heathenry crouching on the ground, and uttering a curious noise, likest to feline purring, whilst the True Believers again prayed for the King. The deputation was presently conducted to the palace-gate by their introducers, who bent, as is customary when leaving the presence, almost double, and went off at a hurried pace. It was then brought back, and the royal presents were placed upon the envoy’s heads, only the four turbands being exempt. Salutes were again exchanged and the Porto Novians finally left the palace yard.

The mixed company danced once more, and this time it was joined by a dozen razor women, who, defiling past the King from the she-Meu’s to the Min-gan’s side, took their stations near the throne. These Nyekplehen-to[270] seemed the largest and strongest women present, and they held their weapons upwards in the air like standards, with a menacing air and gesture. The blade is about eighteen inches long, and is shaped exactly like a European razor; it closes into a wooden handle about two feet in length, and though kept in position by strong springs, it must be, I should think, quite as dangerous to the owner as to the enemy. These portable guillotines were invented by a brother of the late King Gezo, and the terror which they inspire may render them useful.

At the end of the dance, Ji-bi-whe-ton,[271] acting captainess of the Beauty Company, came forwards with the usual affected military swagger, not without a suspicion of a dance. She is, or was, a fine tall woman, with glittering teeth, and a not unpleasant expression when her features are at rest. She addressed a violent speech to the male Min-gan, who repeated it aloud to the King, with whom it found favour. Ending with cutting off the head of an imaginary corpse upon the ground, she retired to her command. Presently, for the cacoëthes loquendi was upon her, she again advanced, and spoke with even more gesticulation than before. “Thus they would treat Abeokuta!” The sentiment elicited immense applause.

Followed chorus, solo, and various decapitation dancings of the mixed company, the weapons being, as usual, grounded, the war-club seized, and the shoulder-blades and posteriors being agitated to excess. Even the performances of these figurantes, the cream of the royal ballet, are not to be admired. They stand most ungracefully—the legs, which are somewhat slight for the body, being wide apart, and the toes certainly turned in and probably up. When the exercise ended, the razor and chopper women[272] brandished their weapons, and all the line advancing, “presented” with upraised muskets.

At the Dahoman Court, curious to say in Africa, women take precedence of men; yet, with truly Hamitic contradictiousness, the warrioresses say, “We are no longer females but males”; and a soldier disgracing himself is called, in insult, a woman. It is clear, therefore, that they owe their dignity to the fiction of being royal wives. Wherever a she-soldiery is, celibacy must be one of its rules, or the troops will be in a state of chronic functional disorder between the ages of fifteen and thirty-five.

After the Amazons, all the male caboceers, taking choppers and peculiar bill-hook-like blades,[273] some iron, others silver, danced tumultuously before the King, to the general song of the women on the right of the throne. Even the tottering Meu, who leaned upon a tomahawk long enough to act as a staff, joined in the movement. Presently Gelele sent a message to the Gau, declaring that this year Abeokuta must be taken; the tall old man, standing up with a military air, swore that it certainly should fall, and the oath was repeated by his surly-looking junior the Po-su.

The King then addressed me through the Meu and Mr. Beecham, to the effect that this year Abeokuta must be as a mouse before the cat; he also invited me to accompany him to sit behind the army and to see the sport. I replied that “Understone” had long ceased friendship with the white man. A little pleasantry ensued touching it not being our English habit to hang back when aught is doing; and the King taking all in excellent part, we stood up bareheaded, and waved four salutations.

Among the remarkabilia of the scene was Adan-men-nun-kon,[274] right-hand Commander of the Blue Guards, and a fine specimen of “Monsieur Parolles” in black. This man of loyal appellation is a tall, lean, sooty-faced fellow, with a large, whitish, and big-tasselled nightcap decorating his head, a pink pagne, and a baldric adorned with cowries. Rising like a warrior, with carbine and tomahawk, he assured me, in the midst of loud screams and violent gesticulations, that at ’Gba[275] even the unborn child must perish; and he strove to look as if he were doing it to death. His “brother” Zodome, acting for Chabi, the left-hand Commander of the Blues, confirmed the idea. The Voice from the Throne added, as is the habit, many an illustration of the speeches, concluding with the declaration that the Abeokutans must not only be beheaded, their bodies must also be cut to pieces.

There appeared two silver-horned fetish chiefs, of the Blue Company, who in the hour of battle personally attend upon the King. “Awafanfin,” which was translated to me, “A fetish guide for Abeokuta,” drew his knife, and declared that with the blade, not with a gun, he would attack the cravens who lurked behind their walls. The King cordially echoed this; and added that, even if in England, I should hear of his destructive deeds. His right-hand, or superior colleague, a good-looking youth, called Hnengada, a “King-Bo-fetish name” (interpreted to mean, “When the spindle turns cotton, it must become thread”), then stood up. He informed me, “The forest tree is strong with root and cordage, and is heavy with trunk and branch, whilst the wind is thin, and cannot be seen; but the gale lays low the loftiest of the green wood; and Dahome is that wind, whilst Abeokuta is that tree.” This sentiment was also explained by the King. The speakers kissed the ground, and rubbed earth upon their brows: then the chorus of captains sang—

When we go to war we must slay men,

And so must Abeokuta be destroyed.

The mixed company was now greatly increased by women, who had defiled in single line before the throne. There were bayoneteeresses, with blue cloth tunics and a white patch on the shoulder, white fillets like those of the men, sashes to match supporting their swords, and variously-coloured pagnes. The blunderbuss women, who were, like the former, sitting under the she-Min-gan, distinguished themselves by scarlet woollen nightcaps. After they had danced and sung, their captainess, Ji-bi-whe-ton, advanced, and said that they would fire a salute for their old commander. With some difficulty two sides of a square were formed, fronting the south and west. The manœuvres consisted of an individual sallying out like the Arab “Mubariz,” delivering her fire, and retiring to the ranks. All raised their weapons steadily, with left arms extended, and fired from the shoulders, not from the hips as the men do to avoid the kick; they returned with a kind of caper, and they did not flinch after the fashion of the Dahoman soldiers. The bayonet women, after firing, extended a single very gauche thrust. The blunderbuss soldieresses grounded the butts of their heavy weapons, and discharged them at an angle of 45 deg. After several rounds they again chanted:

We like not to hear that Abeokuta lives;

But soon we shall see it fall.

This was followed by the usual dance and chorus, which concluded with a “present” of uplifted weapons.

When the sun had set, a Dakro brought us directions to advance and to bid adieu to the King, whilst sundry flasks and decanters of ’tafia and other liquors were distributed in token of dismissal. Approaching the throne, we made the usual “compliments.” Gelele, wrapping his robe around him, descended from the estrade, donned his sandals, and, attended by his umbrella and a large crowd of the Kan-gbo-de’s huissiers bearing lights and links, stalked forth towards the palace-yard gate, with a right kingly stride. Every inequality of ground was smoothed, every stick or stone was pointed out, with finger snappings, lest it might offend the royal toe, and a running accompaniment of “Dadda! Dadda!” (Grandfather! Grandfather!) and of “Dedde! Dedde![276]” (Softly! Softly!) was kept up. Passing out of the gate, we found a swarming of negroes, whose hum during the whole audience had been heard inside the palace. They buzzed about like excited hornets. I know not if the manœuvre was done purposely to exaggerate the semblance of a multitude, but I can answer that it was a success.

The King accompanied us to some distance outside the palace—a compliment first paid to Commodore Wilmot.[277] His ministers were around him, and the Meu placed in my hands, according to ancient custom,[278] a handful of potsherd bits, showing the number of return guns expected at Whydah. Preceded by the Yevogan, we made for the English house. The road was crowded with fetish women, marching in full dress and in single file to a queer song. Arrived at our destination, we gave liquor to the whole tail, and we were happy when we found ourselves in comparative solitude.

From the above description it is evident that the Dahoman possesses, to some extent, the ceremonial faculty. On such occasions the pageantry of African Courts is to be compared with that of Europe, proportionately with the national state of progress. But it is evidently the result of long and studious practice. Everything goes by clockwork; the most intricate etiquette proceeds without halt or mistake; and it ever superadds the element Terror, whose absence in civilized countries often converts ceremonial to a something silly. As, however, the reader has been warned, he has seen the best. The outside displays are wretched. Misery mixes with magnificence, ragged beggars and naked boys jostle jewelled chiefs and velvet-clad Amazons; whilst the real negro grotesqueness, like bad perspective, injures the whole picture.