The Project Gutenberg EBook of Travels in the Interior of Africa - Volume 2 by Mungo Park (#2 in our series by Mungo Park) Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the header without written permission. Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is important information about your specific rights and restrictions in how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. **Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** **eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** *****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** Title: Travels in the Interior of Africa - Volume 2 Author: Mungo Park Release Date: March, 2004 [EBook #5305] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on June 25, 2002] [Most recently updated: June 25, 2002] Edition: 10 Language: English Character set encoding: ASCII
Transcribed from the 1887 Cassell & Company edition by David Price,
email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk
TRAVELS IN THE INTERIOR OF AFRICA - VOLUME 2
By MUNGO PARK.
INTRODUCTION
The first of the two volumes which contain Mungo Park’s “Travels
in the Interior of Africa” brought him through many perils to
the first sight of the Niger, and left him sick and solitary, stripped
of nearly all that he possessed, a half-starved white man on a half-starved
horse. He was helped on by a bag of cowries from a kindly chief;
but in this volume he has not advanced far before he is stripped of
all.
There is not in the range of English literature a more interesting traveller’s
tale than was given to the world in this book which this volume completes.
It took the deeper hold upon its readers, because it appeared at a time
when English hearts began to be stirred by the wrongs of slavery.
But at any time there would be strong human interest in the unconscious
painting of the writer’s character, as he makes his way over far
regions in which no white man had before been seen, with firm resolve
and with good temper as well as courage and prudence, which bring him
safe through many a hair-breadth escape. There was a true kindness
in Mungo Park that found answering kindness and brought out the spirit
of humanity in those upon whose goodwill his life depends; in the negroes
often, although never in the Moors. There was no flinching in
the man, who, when robbed of his horse, stripped to the shirt in a forest
and left upon a lion’s track, looked down with a botanist’s
eye on the beauty of a tiny moss at his feet, drew comfort from it,
and laboured on with quiet faith in God. The same eye was as quick
to recognise the diverse characters of men. In Mungo Park shrewd
humour and right feeling went together. Whatever he had to say
he said clearly and simply; and it went straight home. He had
the good fortune to be born before “picturesque writing”
was invented. When we return to the Gambia with Mungo Park under
the same escort with a coffle of slaves on their way to be shipped for
the use of Christians, from the strength of his unlaboured narrative
we get clear knowledge unclouded by a rainbow mist of words. He
is of one blood with the sailors in whom Hakluyt delighted.
CHAPTER XVI - VILLAGES ON THE NIGER - DETERMINES TO GO NO FARTHER EASTWARD
Being, in the manner that has been related, compelled to leave Sego,
I was conducted the same evening to a village about seven miles to the
eastward, with some of the inhabitants of which my guide was acquainted,
and by whom we were well received. {1}
He was very friendly and communicative, and spoke highly of the hospitality
of his countrymen, but withal told me that if Jenné was the place
of my destination, which he seemed to have hitherto doubted, I had undertaken
an enterprise of greater danger than probably I was apprised of; for,
although the town of Jenné was nominally a part of the king of
Bambarra’s dominions, it was in fact, he said, a city of the Moors
- the leading part of the inhabitants being bushreens, and even the
governor himself, though appointed by Mansong, of the same sect.
Thus was I in danger of falling a second time into the hands of men
who would consider it not only justifiable, but meritorious, to destroy
me, and this reflection was aggravated by the circumstance that the
danger increased as I advanced in my journey, for I learned that the
places beyond Jenné were under the Moorish influence in a still
greater degree than Jenné itself, and Timbuctoo, the great object
of my search, altogether in possession of that savage and merciless
people, who allow no Christian to live there. But I had now advanced
too far to think of returning to the westward on such vague and uncertain
information, and determined to proceed; and being accompanied by the
guide, I departed from the village on the morning of the 24th.
About eight o’clock we passed a large town called Kabba, situated
in the midst of a beautiful and highly cultivated country, bearing a
greater resemblance to the centre of England than to what I should have
supposed had been the middle of Africa. The people were everywhere
employed in collecting the fruit of shea trees, from which they prepare
the vegetable butter mentioned in former parts of this work. These
trees grow in great abundance all over this part of Bambarra.
They are not planted by the natives, but are found growing naturally
in the woods; and in clearing woodland for cultivation every tree is
cut down but the shea. The tree itself very much resembles the
American oak, and the fruit - from the kernel of which, being first
dried in the sun, the butter is prepared by boiling the kernel in water
- has somewhat the appearance of a Spanish olive. The kernel is
enveloped in a sweet pulp, under a thin green rind; and the butter produced
from it, besides the advantage of its keeping the whole year without
salt, is whiter, firmer, and, to my palate, of a richer flavour, than
the best butter I ever tasted made from cow’s milk. The
growth and preparation of this commodity seem to be among the first
objects of African industry in this and the neighbouring states, and
it constitutes a main article of their inland commerce.
We passed, in the course of the day, a great many villages inhabited
chiefly by fishermen, and in the evening about five o’clock arrived
at Sansanding, a very large town, containing, as I was told, from eight
to ten thousand inhabitants. This place is much resorted to by
the Moors, who bring salt from Berroo, and beads and coral from the
Mediterranean, to exchange here for gold dust and cotton cloth.
This cloth they sell to great advantage in Berroo, and other Moorish
countries, where, on account of the want of rain, no cotton is cultivated.
I desired my guide to conduct me to the house in which we were to lodge
by the most private way possible. We accordingly rode along between
the town and the river, passing by a creek or harbour, in which I observed
twenty large canoes, most of them fully loaded, and covered with mats
to prevent the rain from injuring the goods. As we proceeded,
three other canoes arrived, two with passengers and one with goods.
I was happy to find that all the negro inhabitants took me for a Moor,
under which character I should probably have passed unmolested, had
not a Moor, who was sitting by the river-side, discovered the mistake,
and, setting up a loud exclamation, brought together a number of his
countrymen.
When I arrived at the house of Counti Mamadi, the dooty of the town,
I was surrounded with hundreds of people speaking a variety of different
dialects, all equally unintelligible to me. At length, by the
assistance of my guide, who acted as interpreter, I understood that
one of the spectators pretended to have seen me at one place, and another
at some other place; and a Moorish woman absolutely swore that she had
kept my house three years at Gallam, on the river Senegal. It
was plain that they mistook me for some other person, and I desired
two of the most confident to point towards the place where they had
seen me. They pointed due south; hence I think it probable that
they came from Cape Coast, where they might have seen many white men.
Their language was different from any I had yet heard. The Moors
now assembled in great number, with their usual arrogance, compelling
the negroes to stand at a distance. They immediately began to
question me concerning my religion, but finding that I was not master
of Arabic, they sent for two men, whom they call Ilhuidi (Jews),
in hopes that they might be able to converse with me. These Jews,
in dress and appearance, very much resemble the Arabs; but though they
so far conform to the religion of Mohammed as to recite in public prayers
from the Koran, they are but little respected by the negroes; and even
the Moors themselves allowed that, though I was a Christian, I was a
better man than a Jew. They however insisted that, like the Jews,
I must conform so far as to repeat the Mohammedan prayers; and when
I attempted to waive the subject by telling them that I could not speak
Arabic, one of them, a shereef from Tuat, in the Great Desert, started
up and swore by the Prophet that if I refused to go to the mosque, he
would be one that would assist in carrying me thither; and there is
no doubt that this threat would have been immediately executed had not
my landlord interposed on my behalf. He told them that I was the
king’s stranger, and he could not see me ill-treated whilst I
was under his protection. He therefore advised them to let me
alone for the night, assuring them that in the morning I should be sent
about my business. This somewhat appeased their clamour, but they
compelled me to ascend a high seat by the door of the mosque, in order
that everybody might see me, for the people had assembled in such numbers
as to be quite ungovernable, climbing upon the houses, and squeezing
each other, like the spectators at an execution. Upon this seat
I remained until sunset, when I was conducted into a neat little hut,
with a small court before it, the door of which Counti Mamadi shut,
to prevent any person from disturbing me. But this precaution
could not exclude the Moors. They climbed over the top of the
mud wall, and came in crowds into the court, “in order,”
they said, “to see me perform my evening devotions, and eat
eggs.” The former of these ceremonies I did not think
proper to comply with, but I told them I had no objection to eat eggs,
provided they would bring me eggs to eat. My landlord immediately
brought me seven hen’s eggs, and was much surprised to find that
I could not eat them raw; for it seems to be a prevalent opinion among
the inhabitants of the interior that Europeans subsist almost entirely
on this diet. When I had succeeded in persuading my landlord that
this opinion was without foundation, and that I would gladly partake
of any victuals which he might think proper to send me, he ordered a
sheep to be killed, and part of it to be dressed for my supper.
About midnight, when the Moors had left me, he paid me a visit, and
with much earnestness desired me to write him a saphie. “If
a Moor’s saphie is good,” said this hospitable old man,
“a white man’s must needs be better.” I readily
furnished him with one, possessed of all the virtues I could concentrate,
for it contained the Lord’s Prayer. The pen with which it
was written was made of a reed; a little charcoal and gum-water made
very tolerable ink, and a thin board answered the purpose of paper.
July 25. - Early in the morning, before the Moors were assembled,
I departed from Sansanding, and slept the ensuing night at a small town
called Sibili, from whence on the day following I reached Nyara, a large
town at some distance from the river, where I halted the 27th, to have
my clothes washed, and recruit my horse. The dooty there has a
very commodious house, flat-roofed, and two storeys high. He showed
me some gunpowder of his own manufacturing; and pointed out, as a great
curiosity, a little brown monkey that was tied to a stake by the door,
telling me that it came from a far distant country called Kong.
July 28. - I departed from Nyara, and reached Nyamee about noon.
This town is inhabited chiefly by Foulahs from the kingdom of Masina.
The dooty, I know not why, would not receive me, but civilly sent his
son on horseback to conduct me to Modiboo, which he assured me was at
no great distance.
We rode nearly in a direct line through the woods, but in general went
forwards with great circumspection. I observed that my guide frequently
stopped and looked under the bushes. On inquiring the reason of
this caution he told me that lions were very numerous in that part of
the country, and frequently attacked people travelling through the woods.
While he was speaking, my horse started, and looking round, I observed
a large animal of the camelopard kind standing at a little distance.
The neck and fore-legs were very long; the head was furnished with two
short black horns, turning backwards; the tail, which reached down to
the ham joint, had a tuft of hair at the end. The animal was of
a mouse colour, and it trotted away from us in a very sluggish manner
- moving its head from side to side, to see if we were pursuing it.
Shortly after this, as we were crossing a large open plain, where there
were a few scattered bushes, my guide, who was a little way before me,
wheeled his horse round in a moment, calling out something in the Foulah
language which I did not understand. I inquired in Mandingo what
he meant; “Wara billi billi!” (“A very large
lion!”) said he, and made signs for me to ride away. But
my horse was too much fatigued; so we rode slowly past the bush from
which the animal had given us the alarm. Not seeing anything myself,
however, I thought my guide had been mistaken, when the Foulah suddenly
put his hand to his mouth, exclaiming, “Soubah an allahi!”
(“God preserve us!”) and, to my great surprise, I then perceived
a large red lion, at a short distance from the bush, with his head couched
between his forepaws. I expected he would instantly spring upon
me, and instinctively pulled my feet from my stirrups to throw myself
on the ground, that my horse might become the victim rather than myself.
But it is probable the lion was not hungry; for he quietly suffered
us to pass, though we were fairly within his reach. My eyes were
so riveted upon this sovereign of the beasts that I found it impossible
to remove them until we were at a considerable distance. We now
took a circuitous route through some swampy ground, to avoid any more
of these disagreeable encounters. At sunset we arrived at Modiboo
- a delightful village on the banks of the Niger, commanding a view
of the river for many miles both to the east and west. The small
green islands (the peaceful retreat of some industrious Foulahs, whose
cattle are here secure from the depredations of wild beasts) and the
majestic breadth of the river, which is here much larger than at Sego,
render the situation one of the most enchanting in the world.
Here are caught great plenty of fish, by means of long cotton nets,
which the natives make themselves, and use nearly in the same manner
as nets are used in Europe. I observed the head of a crocodile
lying upon one of the houses, which they told me had been killed by
the shepherds in a swamp near the town. These animals are not
uncommon in the Niger, but I believe they are not oftentimes found dangerous.
They are of little account to the traveller when compared with the amazing
swarms of mosquitoes, which rise from the swamps and creeks in such
numbers as to harass even the most torpid of the natives; and as my
clothes were now almost worn to rags, I was but ill prepared to resist
their attacks. I usually passed the night without shutting my
eyes, walking backwards and forwards, fanning myself with my hat; their
stings raised numerous blisters on my legs and arms, which, together
with the want of rest, made me very feverish and uneasy.
July 29. - Early in the morning, my landlord, observing that
I was sickly, hurried me away, sending a servant with me as a guide
to Kea. But though I was little able to walk, my horse was still
less able to carry me; and about six miles to the east of Modiboo, in
crossing some rough clayey ground, he fell, and the united strength
of the guide and myself could not place him again upon his legs.
I sat down for some time beside this worn-out associate of my adventures,
but finding him still unable to rise, I took off the saddle and bridle,
and placed a quantity of grass before him. I surveyed the poor
animal, as he lay panting on the ground, with sympathetic emotion, for
I could not suppress the sad apprehension that I should myself, in a
short time, lie down and perish in the same manner, of fatigue and hunger.
With this foreboding I left my poor horse, and with great reluctance
followed my guide on foot along the bank of the river until about noon,
when we reached Kea, which I found to be nothing more than a small fishing
village. The dooty, a surly old man, who was sitting by the gate,
received me very coolly; and when I informed him of my situation, and
begged his protection, told me with great indifference that he paid
very little attention to fine speeches, and that I should not enter
his house. My guide remonstrated in my favour, but to no purpose,
for the dooty remained inflexible in his determination. I knew
not where to rest my wearied limbs, but was happily relieved by a fishing
canoe belonging to Silla, which was at that moment coming down the river.
The dooty waved to the fisherman to come near, and desired him to take
charge of me as far as Moorzan. The fisherman, after some hesitation,
consented to carry me, and I embarked in the canoe in company with the
fisherman, his wife, and a boy. The negro who had conducted me
from Modiboo now left me. I requested him to look to my horse
on his return, and take care of him if he was still alive, which he
promised to do.
Departing from Kea, we proceeded about a mile down the river, when the
fisherman paddled the canoe to the bank and desired me to jump out.
Having tied the canoe to a stake, he stripped off his clothes, and dived
for such a length of time that I thought he had actually drowned himself,
and was surprised to see his wife behave with so much indifference upon
the occasion; but my fears were over when he raised up his head astern
of the canoe and called for a rope. With this rope he dived a
second time, and then got into the canoe and ordered the boy to assist
him in pulling. At length they brought up a large basket, about
ten feet in diameter, containing two fine fish, which the fisherman
- after returning the basket into the water - immediately carried ashore
and hid in the grass. We then went a little farther down and took
up another basket, in which was one fish. The fisherman now left
us to carry his prizes to some neighbouring market, and the woman and
boy proceeded with me in the canoe down the river.
About four o’clock we arrived at Moorzan, a fishing town on the
northern bank, from whence I was conveyed across the river to Silla,
a large town, where I remained until it was quite dark, under a tree,
surrounded by hundreds of people.
With a great deal of entreaty the dooty allowed me to come into his
baloon to avoid the rain, but the place was very damp, and I had a smart
paroxysm of fever during the night. Worn down by sickness, exhausted
with hunger and fatigue, half-naked, and without any article of value
by which I might procure provisions, clothes, or lodging, I began to
reflect seriously on my situation. I was now convinced, by painful
experience, that the obstacles to my farther progress were insurmountable.
The tropical rains were already set in with all their violence - the
rice grounds and swamps were everywhere overflowed - and in a few days
more, travelling of every kind, unless by water, would be completely
obstructed. The kowries which remained of the king of Bambarra’s
present were not sufficient to enable me to hire a canoe for any great
distance, and I had but little hopes of subsisting by charity in a country
where the Moors have such influence. But, above all, I perceived
that I was advancing more and more within the power of those merciless
fanatics, and, from my reception both at Sego and Sansanding, I was
apprehensive that, in attempting to reach even Jenné (unless
under the protection of some man of consequence amongst them, which
I had no means of obtaining), I should sacrifice my life to no purpose,
for my discoveries would perish with me. The prospect either way
was gloomy. In returning to the Gambia, a journey on foot of many
hundred miles presented itself to my contemplation, through regions
and countries unknown. Nevertheless, this seemed to be the only
alternative, for I saw inevitable destruction in attempting to proceed
to the eastward. With this conviction on my mind I hope my readers
will acknowledge that I did right in going no farther.
Having thus brought my mind, after much doubt and perplexity, to a determination
to return westward, I thought it incumbent on me, before I left Silla,
to collect from the Moorish and negro traders all the information I
could concerning the farther course of the Niger eastward, and the situation
and extent of the kingdoms in its vicinage; and the following few notices
I received from such various quarters as induce me to think they are
authentic:-
Two short days’ journey to the eastward of Silla is the town of
Jenné, which is situated on a small island in the river, and
is said to contain a greater number of inhabitants than Sego itself,
or any other town in Bambarra. At the distance of two days more,
the river spreads into a considerable lake, called Dibbie (or the Dark
Lake), concerning the extent of which all the information I could obtain
was that in crossing it from west to east the canoes lose sight of land
one whole day. From this lake the water issues in many different
streams, which terminate in two large branches, one whereof flows towards
the north-east, and the other to the east; but these branches join at
Kabra, which is one day’s journey to the southward of Timbuctoo,
and is the port or shipping-place of that city. The tract of land
which the two streams encircle is called Jinbala, and is inhabited by
negroes; and the whole distance by land from Jenné to Timbuctoo
is twelve days’ journey.
From Kabra, at the distance of eleven days’ journey down the stream,
the river passes to the southward of Houssa, which is two days’
journey distant from the river. Of the farther progress of this
great river, and its final exit, all the natives with whom I conversed
seemed to be entirely ignorant. Their commercial pursuits seldom
induce them to travel farther than the cities of Timbuctoo and Houssa,
and as the sole object of those journeys is the acquirement of wealth,
they pay little attention to the course of rivers or the geography of
countries. It is, however, highly probable that the Niger affords
a safe and easy communication between very remote nations. All
my informants agreed that many of the negro merchants who arrive at
Timbuctoo and Houssa from the eastward speak a different language from
that of Bambarra, or any other kingdom with which they are acquainted
But even these merchants, it would seem, are ignorant of the termination
of the river, for such of them as can speak Arabic describe the amazing
length of its course in very general terms, saying only that they believe
it runs to the world’s end.
The names of many kingdoms to the eastward of Houssa are familiar to
the inhabitants of Bambarra. I was shown quivers and arrows of
very curious workmanship, which I was informed came from the kingdom
of Kassina.
On the northern bank of the Niger, at a short distance from Silla, is
the kingdom of Masina, which is inhabited by Foulahs. They employ
themselves there, as in other places, chiefly in pasturage, and pay
an annual tribute to the king of Bambarra for the lands which they occupy.
To the north-east of Masina is situated the kingdom of Timbuctoo, the
great object of European research - the capital of this kingdom being
one of the principal marts for that extensive commerce which the Moors
carry on with the negroes. The hopes of acquiring wealth in this
pursuit, and zeal for propagating their religion, have filled this extensive
city with Moors and Mohammedan converts. The king himself and
all the chief officers of state are Moors; and they are said to be more
severe and intolerant in their principles than any other of the Moorish
tribes in this part of Africa. I was informed by a venerable old
negro, that when he first visited Timbuctoo, he took up his lodging
at a sort of public inn, the landlord of which, when he conducted him
into his hut, spread a mat on the floor, and laid a rope upon it, saying,
“If you are a Mussulman, you are my friend - sit down; but if
you are a kafir, you are my slave, and with this rope I will lead you
to market.” The present king of Timbuctoo is named Abu Abrahima.
He is reported to possess immense riches. His wives and concubines
are said to be clothed in silk, and the chief officers of state live
in considerable splendour. The whole expense of his government
is defrayed, as I was told, by a tax upon merchandise, which is collected
at the gates of the city.
The city of Houssa (the capital of a large kingdom of the same name,
situated to the eastward of Timbuctoo), is another great mart for Moorish
commerce. I conversed with many merchants who had visited that
city, and they all agreed that it is larger - and more populous than
Timbuctoo. The trade, police, and government are nearly the same
in both; but in Houssa the negroes are in greater proportion to the
Moors, and have some share in the government.
Concerning the small kingdom of Jinbala I was not able to collect much
information. The soil is said to be remarkably fertile, and the
whole country so full of creeks and swamps that the Moors have hitherto
been baffled in every attempt to subdue it. The inhabitants are
negroes, and some of them are said to live in considerable affluence,
particularly those near the capital, which is a resting-place for such
merchants as transport goods from Timbuctoo to the western parts of
Africa.
To the southward of Jinbala is situated the negro kingdom of Gotto,
which is said to be of great extent. It was formerly divided into
a number of petty states, which were governed by their own chiefs; but
their private quarrels invited invasion from the neighbouring kingdoms.
At length a politic chief of the name of Moossee had address enough
to make them unite in hostilities against Bambarra; and on this occasion
he was unanimously chosen general - the different chiefs consenting
for a time to act under his command. Moossee immediately despatched
a fleet of canoes, loaded with provisions, from the banks of the lake
Dibbie up the Niger towards Jenné, and with the whole of his
army pushed forwards into Bambarra. He arrived on the bank of
the Niger opposite to Jenné before the townspeople had the smallest
intimation of his approach. His fleet of canoes joined him the
same day, and having landed the provisions, he embarked part of his
army, and in the night took Jenné by storm. This event
so terrified the king of Bambarra that he sent messengers to sue for
peace; and in order to obtain it consented to deliver to Moossee a certain
number of slaves every year, and return everything that had been taken
from the inhabitants of Gotto. Moossee, thus triumphant, returned
to Gotto, where he was declared king, and the capital of the country
is called by his name.
On the west of Gotto is the kingdom of Baedoo, which was conquered by
the present king of Bambarra about seven years ago, and has continued
tributary to him ever since.
West of Baedoo is Maniana, the inhabitants of which, according to the
best information I was able to collect, are cruel and ferocious - carrying
their resentment towards their enemies so far as never to give quarter,
and even to indulge themselves with unnatural and disgusting banquets
of human flesh.
CHAPTER XVII - MOORZAN TO TAFFARA
Having, for the reasons assigned in the last chapter, determined to
proceed no farther eastward than Silla, I acquainted the dooty with
my intention of returning to Sego, proposing to travel along the southern
side of the river; but he informed me that, from the number of creeks
and swamps on that side, it was impossible to travel by any other route
than along the northern bank, and even that route, he said, would soon
be impassable on account of the overflowing of the river. However,
as he commended my determination to return westward, he agreed to speak
to some one of the fishermen to carry me over to Moorzan. I accordingly
stepped into a canoe about eight o’clock in the morning of July
30th, and in about an hour was landed at Moorzan. At this place
I hired a canoe for sixty kowries, and in the afternoon arrived at Kea,
where, for forty kowries more, the dooty permitted me to sleep in the
same hut with one of his slaves. This poor negro, perceiving that
I was sickly, and that my clothes were very ragged, humanely lent me
a large cloth to cover me for the night.
July 31. - The dooty’s brother being going to Modiboo,
I embraced the opportunity of accompanying him thither, there being
no beaten road. He promised to carry my saddle, which I had left
at Kea, when my horse fell down in the woods, as I now proposed to present
it to the king of Bambarra.
We departed from Kea at eight o’clock, and about a mile to the
westward observed on the bank of the river a great number of earthen
jars piled up together. They were very neatly formed, but not
glazed, and were evidently of that sort of pottery which is manufactured
at Downie (a town to the west of Timbuctoo), and sold to great advantage
in different parts of Bambarra. As we approached towards the jars
my companion plucked up a large handful of herbage, and threw it upon
them, making signs for me to do the same, which I did. He then,
with great seriousness told me that these jars belonged to some supernatural
power; that they were found in their present situation about two years
ago; and as no person had claimed them, every traveller as he passed
them, from respect to the invisible proprietor, threw some grass, or
the branch of a tree, upon the heap, to defend the jars from the rain.
Thus conversing, we travelled in the most friendly manner, until unfortunately
we perceived the footsteps of a lion, quite fresh in the mud, near the
river-side. My companion now proceeded with great circumspection;
and at last, coming to some thick underwood, he insisted that I should
walk before him. I endeavoured to excuse myself, by alleging that
I did not know the road; but he obstinately persisted, and, after a
few high words and menacing looks, threw down the saddle and went away.
This very much disconcerted me; but as I had given up all hopes of obtaining
a horse, I could not think of encumbering myself with the saddle, and,
taking off the stirrups and girths, I threw the saddle into the river.
The negro no sooner saw me throw the saddle into the water than he came
running from among the bushes where he had concealed himself, jumped
into the river, and by help of his spear, brought out the saddle and
ran away with it. I continued my course along the bank; but as
the wood was remarkably thick, and I had reason to believe that a lion
was at no great distance, I became much alarmed, and took a long circuit
through the bushes to avoid him.
About four in the afternoon I reached Modiboo, where I found my saddle.
The guide, who had got there before me, being afraid that I should inform
the king of his conduct, had brought the saddle with him in a canoe.
While I was conversing with the dooty, and remonstrating against the
guide for having left me in such a situation, I heard a horse neigh
in one of the huts; and the dooty inquired with a smile if I knew who
was speaking to me. He explained himself by telling me that my
horse was still alive, and somewhat recovered from his fatigue; but
he insisted that I should take him along with me, adding that he had
once kept a Moor’s horse for four months, and when the horse had
recovered and got into good condition, the Moor returned and claimed
it, and refused to give him any reward for his trouble.
August 1. - I departed from Modiboo, driving my horse before
me, and in the afternoon reached Nyamee; where I remained three days,
during which time it rained without intermission, and with such violence
that no person could venture out of doors.
August 5. - I departed from Nyamee; but the country was so deluged
that I was frequently in danger of losing the road, and had to wade
across the savannas for miles together, knee-deep in water. Even
the corn ground, which is the driest land in the country, was so completely
flooded that my horse twice stuck fast in the mud, and was not got out
without the greatest difficulty.
In the evening of the same day I arrived at Nyara, where I was well
received by the dooty; and as the 6th was rainy I did not depart until
the morning of the 7th; but the water had swelled to such a height,
that in many places the road was scarcely passable, and though I waded
breast-deep across the swamps I could only reach a small village called
Nemaboo, where however, for a hundred kowries, I procured from some
Foulahs plenty of corn for my horse and milk for myself.
August 8. - The difficulties I had experienced the day before
made me anxious to engage a fellow-traveller, particularly as I was
assured that, in the course of a few days, the country would be so completely
overflowed as to render the road utterly impassable; but though I offered
two hundred kowries for a guide, nobody would accompany me. However,
on the morning following, August 9th, a Moor and his wife, riding upon
two bullocks, and bound for Sego with salt, passed the village, and
agreed to take me along with them; but I found them of little service,
for they were wholly unacquainted with the road, and being accustomed
to a sandy soil, were very bad travellers. Instead of wading before
the bullocks to feel if the ground was solid, the woman boldly entered
the first swamp, riding upon the top of the load; but when she had proceeded
about two hundred yards the bullock sunk into a hole, and threw both
the load and herself among the reeds. The frightened husband stood
for some time seemingly petrified with horror, and suffered his wife
to be almost drowned before he went to her assistance.
About sunset we reached Sibity, but the dooty received me very coolly;
and when I solicited for a guide to Sansanding he told me his people
were otherwise employed. I was shown into a damp old hut, where
I passed a very uncomfortable night; for when the walls of the huts
are softened by the rain they frequently become too weak to support
the weight of the roof. I heard three huts fall during the night,
and was apprehensive that the hut I lodged in would be the fourth.
In the morning, as I went to pull some grass for my horse, I counted
fourteen huts which had fallen in this manner since the commencement
of the rainy season.
It continued to rain with great violence all the 10th; and as the dooty
refused to give me any provisions, I purchased some corn, which I divided
with my horse.
August 11. - The dooty compelled me to depart from the town,
and I set out for Sansanding without any great hopes of faring better
than I had done at Sibity; for I learned, from people who came to visit
me, that a report prevailed, and was universally believed, that I had
come to Bambarra as a spy; and as Mansong had not admitted me into his
presence, the dooties of the different towns were at liberty to treat
me in what manner they pleased. From repeatedly hearing the same
story I had no doubt of the truth of it; but as there was no alternative
I determined to proceed, and a little before sunset I arrived at Sansanding.
My reception was what I expected. Counti Mamadi, who had been
so kind to me formerly, scarcely gave me welcome. Every one wished
to shun me; and my landlord sent a person to inform me that a very unfavourable
report was received from Sego concerning me, and that he wished me to
depart early in the morning. About ten o’clock at night
Counti Mamadi himself came privately to me, and informed me that Mansong
had despatched a canoe to Jenné to bring me back; and he was
afraid I should find great difficulty in going to the west country.
He advised me therefore to depart from Sansanding before daybreak, and
cautioned me against stopping at Diggani, or any town near Sego.
August 12. - I departed from Sansanding, and reached Kabba in
the afternoon. As I approached the town I was surprised to see
several people assembled at the gate, one of whom, as I advanced, came
running towards me, and taking my horse by the bridle, led me round
the walls of the town, and then, pointing to the west, told me to go
along, or it would fare worse with me. It was in vain that I represented
the danger of being benighted in the woods, exposed to the inclemency
of the weather and the fury of wild beasts. “Go along!”
was all the answer; and a number of people coming up and urging me in
the same manner, with great earnestness, I suspected that some of the
king’s messengers, who were sent in search of me, were in the
town, and that these negroes, from mere kindness, conducted me past
it with a view to facilitate my escape. I accordingly took the
road for Sego, with the uncomfortable prospect of passing the night
on the branches of a tree. After travelling about three miles,
I came to a small village near the road. The dooty was splitting
sticks by the gate, but I found I could have no admittance, and when
I attempted to enter, he jumped up, and with the stick he held in his
hand, threatened to strike me off the horse if I presumed to advance
another step.
At a little distance from this village (and further from the road) is
another small one. I conjectured that, being rather out of the
common route, the inhabitants might have fewer objections to give me
house-room for the night; and having crossed some cornfields, I sat
down under a tree by the well. Two or three women came to draw
water, and one of them, perceiving I was a stranger, inquired whither
I was going. I told her I was going for Sego, but being benighted
on the road, I wished to stay at the village until morning, and begged
she would acquaint the dooty with my situation. In a little time
the dooty sent for me, and permitted me to sleep in a large baloon.
August 13. - About ten o’clock I reached a small village
within half a mile of Sego, where I endeavoured, but in vain, to procure
some provisions. Every one seemed anxious to avoid me; and I can
plainly perceive, by the looks and behaviour of the inhabitants, that
some very unfavourable accounts had been circulated concerning me.
I was again informed that Mansong had sent people to apprehend me, and
the dooty’s son told me I had no time to lose if I wished to get
safe out of Bambarra. I now fully saw the danger of my situation,
and determined to avoid Sego altogether. I accordingly mounted
my horse, and taking the road for Diggani, travelled as fast as I could
till I was out of sight of the villagers, when I struck to the westward,
through high grass and swampy ground. About noon I stopped under
a tree to consider what course to take, for I had now no doubt that
the Moors and slatees had misinformed the king respecting the object
of my mission, and that people were absolutely in search of me to convey
me a prisoner to Sego. Sometimes I had thoughts of swimming my
horse across the Niger, and going to the southward for Cape Coast, but
reflecting that I had ten days to travel before I should reach Kong,
and afterwards an extensive country to traverse, inhabited by various
nations with whose language and manners I was totally unacquainted,
I relinquished this scheme, and judged that I should better answer the
purpose of my mission by proceeding to the westward along the Niger,
endeavouring to ascertain how far the river was navigable in that direction.
Having resolved upon this course, I proceeded accordingly, and a little
before sunset arrived at a Foulah village called Sooboo, where, for
two hundred kowries, I procured lodging for the night.
August 14. - I continued my course along the bank of the river,
through a populous and well-cultivated country. I passed a walled
town called Kamalia {2}
without stopping, and at noon rode through a large town called Samee,
where there happened to be a market, and a number of people assembled
in an open place in the middle of the town, selling cattle, cloth, corn,
&c. I rode through the midst of them without being much observed,
every one taking me for a Moor. In the afternoon I arrived at
a small village called Binni, where I agreed with the dooty’s
son, for one hundred kowries, to allow me to stay for the night; but
when the dooty returned, he insisted that I should instantly leave the
place, and if his wife and son had not interceded for me, I must have
complied.
August 15. - About nine o’clock I passed a large town called
Sai, which very much excited my curiosity. It is completely surrounded
by two very deep trenches, at about two hundred yards distant from the
walls. On the top of the trenches are a number of square towers,
and the whole has the appearance of a regular fortification.
About noon I came to the village of Kaimoo, situated upon the bank of
the river, and as the corn I had purchased at Sibili was exhausted,
I endeavoured to purchase a fresh supply, but was informed that corn
was become very scarce all over the country, and though I offered fifty
kowries for a small quantity, no person would sell me any. As
I was about to depart, however, one of the villagers (who probably mistook
me for some Moorish shereef) brought me some as a present, only desiring
me to bestow my blessing upon him, which I did in plain English, and
he received it with a thousand acknowledgments. Of this present
I made my dinner, and it was the third successive day that I had subsisted
entirely upon raw corn.
In the evening I arrived at a small village called Song, the surly inhabitants
of which would not receive me, nor so much as permit me to enter the
gate; but as lions were very numerous in this neighbourhood, and I had
frequently, in the course of the day, observed the impression of their
feet on the road, I resolved to stay in the vicinity of the village.
Having collected some grass for my horse, I accordingly lay down under
a tree by the gate. About ten o’clock I heard the hollow
roar of a lion at no great distance, and attempted to open the gate,
but the people from within told me that no person must attempt to enter
the gate without the dooty’s permission. I begged them to
inform the dooty that a lion was approaching the village, and I hoped
he would allow me to come within the gate. I waited for an answer
to this message with great anxiety, for the lion kept prowling round
the village, and once advanced so very near me that I heard him rustling
among the grass, and climbed the tree for safety. About midnight
the dooty. with some of his people, opened the gate, and desired me
to come in. They were convinced, they said, that I was not a Moor,
for no Moor ever waited any time at the gate of a village without cursing
the inhabitants.
August 16. - About ten o’clock I passed a considerable
town, with a mosque, called Jabbee. Here the country begins to
rise into hills, and I could see the summits of high mountains to the
westward. About noon I stopped at a small village near Yamina,
where I purchased some corn, and dried my papers and clothes.
The town of Yamina at a distance has a very fine appearance. It
covers nearly the same extent of ground as Sansanding, but having been
plundered by Daisy, king of Kaarta, about four years ago, it has not
yet resumed its former prosperity, nearly one-half of the town being
nothing but a heap of ruins. However, it is still a considerable
place, and is so much frequented by the Moors that I did not think it
safe to lodge in it, but in order to satisfy myself respecting its population
and extent, I resolved to ride through it, in doing which I observed
a great many Moors sitting upon the bentangs, and other places of public
resort. Everybody looked at me with astonishment, but as I rode
briskly along they had no time to ask questions.
I arrived in the evening at Farra, a walled village, where, without
much difficulty, I procured a lodging for the night.
August 17. - Early in the morning I pursued my journey, and at
eight o’clock passed a considerable town called Balaba, after
which the road quits the plain, and stretches along the side of the
hill. I passed in the course of this day the ruins of three towns,
the inhabitants of which were all carried away by Daisy, king of Kaarta,
on the same day that he took and plundered Yamina. Near one of
these ruins I climbed a tamarind-tree, but found the fruit quite green
and sour, and the prospect of the country was by no means inviting,
for the high grass and bushes seemed completely to obstruct the road,
and the low lands were all so flooded by the river, that the Niger had
the appearance of an extensive lake. In the evening I arrived
at Kanika, where the dooty, who was sitting upon an elephant’s
hide at the gate, received me kindly, and gave me for supper some milk
and meal, which I considered (as to a person in my situation it really
was) a very great luxury.
August 18. - By mistake I took the wrong road, and did not discover
my error until I had travelled nearly four miles, when, coming to an
eminence, I observed the Niger considerably to the left. Directing
my course towards it, I travelled through long grass and bushes with
great difficulty until two o’clock in thee afternoon, when I came
to a comparatively small but very rapid river, which I took at first
for a creek, or one of the streams of the Niger. However, after
I had examined it with more attention, I was convinced that it was a
distinct river, and as the road evidently crossed it (for I could see
the pathway on the opposite side), I sat down upon the bank in hopes
that some traveller might arrive who would give me the necessary information
concerning the fording-place - for the banks were so covered with reeds
and bushes that it would have been almost impossible to land on the
other side, except at the pathway, which, on account of the rapidity
of the stream, it seemed very difficult to reach. No traveller
however arriving, and there being a great appearance of rain, I examined
the grass and bushes for some way up the bank, and determined upon entering
the river considerably above the pathway, in order to reach the other
side before the stream had swept me too far down. With this view
I fastened my clothes upon the saddle, and was standing up to the neck
in water, pulling my horse by the bridle to make him follow me, where
a man came accidentally to the place, and seeing me in the water, called
to me with great vehemence to come out. The alligators, he said,
would devour both me and my horse, if we attempted to swim over.
When I had got out, the stranger, who had never before seen a European,
seemed wonderfully surprised. He twice put his hand to his mouth,
exclaiming, in a low tone of voice, “God preserve me! who is this?”
but when he heard me speak the Bambarra tongue, and found that I was
going the same way as himself, he promised to assist me in crossing
the river, the name of which he said was Frina. He then went a
little way along the bank, and called to some person, who answered from
the other side. In a short time a canoe with two boys came paddling
from among the reeds. These boys agreed for fifty kowries to transport
me and my horse over the river, which was effected without much difficulty,
and I arrived in the evening at Taffara, a walled town, and soon discovered
that the language of the natives was improved from the corrupted dialect
of Bambarra to the pure Mandingo.
CHAPTER XVIII - DESPAIRING THOUGHTS - ARRIVAL AT SIBIDOOLOO
On my arrival at Taffara I inquired for the dooty, but was informed
that he had died a few days before my arrival, and that there was at
that moment a meeting of the chief men for electing another, there being
some dispute about the succession. It was probably owing to this
unsettled state of the town that I experienced such a want of hospitality
in it, for though I informed the inhabitants that I should only remain
with them for one night, and assured them that Mansong had given me
some kowries to pay for my lodging, yet no person invited me to come
in, and I was forced to sit alone under the bentang-tree, exposed to
the rain and wind of a tornado, which lasted with great violence until
midnight. At this time the stranger who had assisted me in crossing
the river paid me a visit, and observing that I had not found a lodging,
invited me to take part of his supper, which he had brought to the door
of his hut; for, being a guest himself, he could not, without his landlord’s
consent, invite me to come in. After this I slept upon some wet
grass in the corner of a court. My horse fared still worse than
myself, the corn I purchased being all expended, and I could not procure
a supply.
August 20. - I passed the town of Jaba, and stopped a few minutes
at a village called Somino, where I begged and obtained some coarse
food, which the natives prepare from the husks of corn, and call boo.
About two o’clock I came to the village of Sooha, and endeavoured
to purchase some corn from the dooty, who was sitting by the gate, but
without success. I then requested a little food by way of charity,
but was told he had none to spare. Whilst I was examining the
countenance of this inhospitable old man, and endeavouring to find out
the cause of the sullen discontent which was visible in his eye, he
called to a slave who was working in the cornfield at a little distance,
and ordered him to bring his hoe along with him. The dooty then
told him to dig a hole in the ground, pointing to a spot at no great
distance. The slave, with his hoe, began to dig a pit in the earth,
and the dooty, who appeared to be a man of very fretful disposition,
kept muttering and talking to himself until the pit was almost finished,
when he repeatedly pronounced the words “dankatoo”
(“good for nothing”) - “jankra lemen”
(“a real plague”) - which expressions I thought could be
applied to nobody but myself; and as the pit had very much the appearance
of a grave, I thought it prudent to mount my horse, and was about to
decamp, when the slave, who had before gone into the village, to my
surprise returned with the corpse of a boy about nine or ten years of
age. quite naked. The negro carried the body by a leg and an arm,
and threw it into the pit with a savage indifference which I had never
before seen. As he covered the body with earth, the dooty often
expressed himself, “naphula attiniata” (“money
lost”), whence I concluded that the boy had been one of his slaves.
Departing from this shocking scene, I travelled by the side of the river
until sunset, when I came to Koolikorro, a considerable town, and a
great market for salt. Here I took up my lodging at the house
of a Bambarran, who had formerly been the slave of a Moor, and in that
character had travelled to Aroan, Towdinni, and many other places in
the Great Desert; but turning Mussulman, and his master dying at Jenné,
he obtained his freedom and settled at this place, where he carries
on a considerable trade in salt, cotton cloth, &c. His knowledge
of the world had not lessened that superstitious confidence in saphies
and charms which he had imbibed in his earlier years, for when he heard
that I was a Christian, he immediately thought of procuring a saphie,
and for this purpose brought out his walha, or writing-board,
assuring me that he would dress me a supper of rice if I would write
him a saphie to protect him from wicked men. The proposal was
of too great consequence to me to be refused. I therefore wrote
the board full, from top to bottom, on both sides; and my landlord,
to be certain of having the whole force of the charm, washed the writing
from the board into a calabash with a little water, and having said
a few prayers over it, drank this powerful draught; after which, lest
a single word should escape, he licked the board until it was quite
dry. A saphie-writer was a man of too great consequence to be
long concealed; the important information was carried to the dooty,
who sent his son with half a sheet of writing-paper, desiring me to
write him a naphula saphie (a charm to procure wealth).
He brought me, as a present, some meal and milk, and when I had finished
the saphie, and read it to him with an audible voice, he seemed highly
satisfied with his bargain, and promised to bring me in the morning
some milk for my breakfast. When I had finished my supper of rice
and salt, I laid myself down upon a bullock’s hide, and slept
very quietly until morning, this being the first good meal and refreshing
sleep that I had enjoyed for a long time.
August 21. - At daybreak I departed from Koolikorro, and about
noon passed the villages of Kayoo and Toolumbo. In the afternoon
I arrived at Marraboo, a large town, and, like Koolikorro, famous for
its trade in salt. I was conducted to the house of a Kaartan,
of the tribe of Jower, by whom I was well received. This man had
acquired a considerable property in the slave-trade, and, from his hospitality
to strangers, was called, by way of pre-eminence, jatee (the
landlord), and his house was a sort of public inn for all travellers.
Those who had money were well lodged, for they always made him some
return for his kindness, but those who had nothing to give were content
to accept whatever he thought proper; and as I could not rank myself
among the moneyed men, I was happy to take up my lodging in the same
but with seven poor fellows who had come from Kancaba in a canoe.
But our landlord sent us some victuals.
August 22 - One of the landlord’s servants went with me
a little way from the town to show me what road to take, but, whether
from ignorance or design I know not, he directed me wrong, and I did
not discover my mistake until the day was far advanced, when, coming
to a deep creek, I had some thoughts of turning back, but as by that
means I foresaw that I could not possibly reach Bammakoo before night,
I resolved to cross it, and, leading my horse close to the brink, I
went behind him and pushed him headlong into the water, and then taking
the bridle in my teeth, swam over to the other side. About four
o’clock in the afternoon, having altered my course from the river
towards the mountains, I came to a small pathway which led to a village
called Frookaboo, where I slept.
August 23 - Early in the morning I set out for Bammakoo, at which
place I arrived about five o’clock in the afternoon. I had
heard Bammakoo much talked of as a great market for salt, and I felt
rather disappointed to find it only a middling town, not quite so large
as Marraboo; however, the smallness of its size is more than compensated
by the richness of its inhabitants, for when the Moors bring their salt
through Kaarta or Bambarra, they constantly rest a few days at this
place, and the negro merchants here, who are well acquainted with the
value of salt in different kingdoms, frequently purchase by wholesale,
and retail it to great advantage. Here I lodged at the house of
a Serawoolli negro, and was visited by a number of Moors. They
spoke very good Mandingo, and were more civil to me than their countrymen
had been. One of them had travelled to Rio Grande, and spoke very
highly of the Christians. He sent me in the evening some boiled
rice and milk. I now endeavoured to procure information concerning
my route to the westward from a slave merchant who had resided some
years on the Gambia. He gave me some imperfect account of the
distance, and enumerated the names of a great many places that lay in
the way, but withal told me that the road was impassable at this season
of the year: he was even afraid, he said, that I should find great difficulty
in proceeding any farther; as the road crossed the Joliba at a town
about half a day’s journey to the westward of Bammakoo, and there
being no canoes at that place large enough to receive my horse, I could
not possibly get him over for some months to come. This was an
obstruction of a very serious nature; but as I had no money to maintain
myself even for a few days, I resolved to push on, and if I could not
convey my horse across the river, to abandon him, and swim over myself.
In thoughts of this nature I passed the night, and in the morning consulted
with my landlord how I should surmount the present difficulty.
He informed me that one road still remained, which was indeed very rocky,
and scarcely passable for horses, but that if I had a proper guide over
the hills to a town called Sibidooloo, he had no doubt but with patience
and caution I might travel forwards through Manding. I immediately
applied to the dooty, and was informed that a jilli kea (singing
man) was about to depart for Sibidooloo, and would show me the road
over the hills. With this man, who undertook to be my conductor,
I travelled up a rocky glen about two miles, when we came to a small
village, and here my musical fellow-traveller found out that he had
brought me the wrong road. He told me that the horse-road lay
on the other side of the hill, and throwing his drum on his back, mounted
up the rocks where, indeed, no horse could follow him, leaving me to
admire his agility, and trace out a road for myself. As I found
it impossible to proceed, I rode back to the level ground, and directing
my course to the eastward, came about noon to another glen, and discovered
a path on which I observed the marks of horses’ feet. Following
this path I came in a short time to some shepherds’ huts, where
I was informed that I was in the right road, but that I could not possibly
reach Sibidooloo before night.
A little before sunset I descended on the north-west side of this ridge
of hills, and as I was looking about for a convenient tree under which
to pass the night (for I had no hopes of reaching any town) I descended
into a delightful valley, and soon afterwards arrived at a romantic
village called Kooma. This village is surrounded by a high wall,
and is the sole property of a Mandingo merchant, who fled hither with
his family during a former war. The adjacent fields yield him
plenty of corn, his cattle roam at large in the valley, and the rocky
hills secure him from the depredations of war. In this obscure
retreat he is seldom visited by strangers, but whenever this happens
he makes the weary traveller welcome. I soon found myself surrounded
by a circle of the harmless villagers. They asked a thousand questions
about my country, and, in return for my information, brought corn and
milk for myself, and grass for my horse, kindled a fire in the hut where
I was to sleep, and appeared very anxious to serve me.
August 25. - I departed from Kooma, accompanied by two shepherds
who were going towards Sibidooloo. The road was very steep and
rocky, and as my horse had hurt his feet much in coming from Bammakoo,
he travelled slowly and with great difficulty, for in many places the
ascent was so sharp, and the declivities so great, that if he had made
one false step he must inevitably have been dashed to pieces.
The shepherds being anxious to proceed, gave themselves little trouble
about me or my horse, and kept walking on at a considerable distance.
It was about eleven o’clock, as I stopped to drink a little water
at a rivulet (my companions being near a quarter of a mile before me),
that I heard some people calling to each other, and presently a loud
screaming, as from a person in great distress. I immediately conjectured
that a lion had taken one of the shepherds, and mounted my horse to
have a better view of what had happened. The noise, however, ceased,
and I rode slowly towards the place from whence I thought it had proceeded,
calling out, but without receiving any answer. In a little time,
however, I perceived one of the shepherds lying among the long grass
near the road, and though I could see no blood upon him, I concluded
he was dead. But when I came close to him, he whispered to me
to stop, telling me that a party of armed men had seized upon his companion,
and shot two arrows at himself as he was making his escape. I
stopped to consider what course to take, and looking round, saw at a
little distance a man sitting upon the stump of a tree. I distinguished
also the heads of six or seven more, sitting among the grass, with muskets
in their hands. I had now no hopes of escaping, and therefore
determined to ride forward towards them. As I approached them,
I was in hopes they were elephant-hunters; and by way of opening the
conversation inquired if they had shot anything, but without returning
an answer one of them ordered me to dismount, and then, as if recollecting
himself, waved with his hand for me to proceed. I accordingly
rode past, and had with some difficulty crossed a deep rivulet, when
I heard somebody holloa, and looking behind, saw those I had taken for
elephant-hunters running after me, and calling out to me to turn back.
I stopped until they were all come up, when they informed me that the
king of the Foulahs had sent them on purpose to bring me, my horse,
and everything that belonged to me, to Fooladoo, and that therefore
I must turn back and go along with them. Without hesitating a
moment, I turned round and followed them, and we travelled together
nearly a quarter of a mile without exchanging a word; when, coming to
a dark place in a wood, one of them said in the Mandingo language, “This
place will do,” and immediately snatched my hat from my head.
Though I was by no means free of apprehension, yet I resolved to show
as few signs of fear as possible, and therefore told them that unless
my hat was returned to me I should proceed no farther. But before
I had time to receive an answer another drew his knife, and seizing
upon a metal button which remained upon my waistcoat, cut it off and
put it into his pocket. Their intentions were obvious, and I thought
that the easier they were permitted to rob me of everything, the less
I had to fear. I therefore allowed them to search my pockets without
resistance, and examine every part of my apparel, which they did with
the most scrupulous exactness. But observing that I had one waistcoat
under another, they insisted that I should cast them both off; and at
last, to make sure work, they stripped me quite naked. Even my
half-boots (though the sole of one of them was tied on to my foot with
a broken bridle rein) were minutely inspected. Whilst they were
examining the plunder, I begged them, with great earnestness, to return
my pocket-compass; but when I pointed it out to them as it was lying
on the ground, one of the banditti, thinking I was about to take it
up, cocked his musket, and swore that he would lay me dead upon the
spot if I presumed to put my hand upon it. After this, some of
them went away with my horse, and the remainder stood considering whether
they should leave me quite naked, or allow me something to shelter me
from the sun. Humanity at last prevailed; they returned me the
worst of the two shirts and a pair of trousers; and, as they went away,
one of them threw back my hat, in the crown of which I kept my memorandums,
and this was probably the reason they did not wish to keep it.
After they were gone, I sat for some time looking round me within amazement
and terror. Whichever way I turned, nothing appeared but danger
and difficulty. I saw myself in the midst of a vast wilderness,
in the depth of the rainy season - naked and alone, surrounded by savage
animals, and men still more savage. I was five hundred miles from
the nearest European settlement. All these circumstances crowded
at once on my recollection, and I confess that my spirits began to fail
me. I considered my fate as certain, and that I had no alternative
but to lie down and perish. The influence of religion, however,
aided and supported me. I reflected that no human prudence or
foresight could possibly have averted my present sufferings. I
was indeed a stranger in a strange land, yet I was still under the protecting
eye of that Providence who has condescended to call Himself the stranger’s
Friend. At this moment, painful as my reflections were, the extraordinary
beauty of a small moss in fructification irresistibly caught my eye.
I mention this to show from what trifling circumstances the mind will
sometimes derive consolation; for though the whole plant was not larger
than the top of one of my fingers, I could not contemplate the delicate
conformation of its roots, leaves, and capsula without admiration.
Can that Being, thought I, who planted, watered, and brought to perfection,
in this obscure part of the world, a thing which appears of so small
importance, look within unconcern upon the situation and sufferings
of creatures formed after His own image? Surely not! Reflections
like these would not allow me to despair. I started up, and, disregarding
both hunger and fatigue, travelled forwards, assured that relief was
at hand; and I was not disappointed. In a short time I came to
a small village, at the entrance of which I overtook the two shepherds
who had come with me from Kooma. They were much surprised to see
me; for they said they never doubted that the Foulahs, when they had
robbed, had murdered me. Departing from this village, we travelled
over several rocky ridges, and at sunset arrived at Sibidooloo, the
frontier town of the kingdom of Manding.
CHAPTER XIX - ILLNESS AT KAMALIA AND KINDNESS OF THE NATIVES
The town of Sibidooloo is situated in a fertile valley, surrounded with
high, rocky hills. It is scarcely accessible for horses, and during
the frequent wars between the Bambarrans, Foulahs, and Mandingoes has
never once been plundered by an enemy. When I entered the town,
the people gathered round me and followed me into the baloon, where
I was presented to the dooty or chief man, who is here called mansa,
which usually signifies king. Nevertheless, it appeared to me
that the government of Manding was a sort of republic, or rather an
oligarchy - every town having a particular mansa, and the chief power
of the state, in the last resort, being lodged in the assembly of the
whole body. I related to the mansa the circumstances of my having
been robbed of my horse and apparel; and my story was confirmed by the
two shepherds. He continued smoking his pipe all the time I was
speaking; but I had no sooner finished, than, taking his pipe from his
mouth, and tossing up the sleeve of his cloak with an indignant air
- “Sit down,” said he; “you shall have everything
restored to you; I have sworn it:” - and then turning to an attendant,
“Give the white man,” said he, “a draught of water;
and with the first light of the morning go over the hills, and inform
the dooty of Bammakoo that a poor white man, the king of Bambarra’s
stranger, has been robbed by the king of Fooladoo’s people.”
I little expected, in my forlorn condition, to meet with a man who could
thus feel for my sufferings. I heartily thanked the mansa for
his kindness, and accepted his invitation to remain with him until the
return of the messenger. I was conducted into a hut and had some
victuals sent me, but the crowd of people which assembled to see me
- all of whom commiserated my misfortunes, and vented imprecations against
the Foulahs - prevented me from sleeping until past midnight.
Two days I remained without hearing any intelligence of my horse or
clothes; and as there was at this time a great scarcity of provisions,
approaching even to famine, all over this part of the country, I was
unwilling to trespass any farther on the mansa’s generosity, and
begged permission to depart to the next village. Finding me very
anxious to proceed, he told me that I might go as far as a town called
Wonda, where he hoped I would remain a few days until I heard some account
of my horse, etc.
I departed accordingly on the next morning, the 28th, and stopped at
some small villages for refreshment. I was presented at one of
them with a dish which I had never before seen. It was composed
of the blossoms or antheræ of the maize, stewed in milk
and water. It is eaten only in time of great scarcity. On
the 30th, about noon, I arrived at Wonda, a small town with a mosque,
and surrounded by a high wall. The mansa, who was a Mohammedan,
acted in two capacities - as chief magistrate of the town, and schoolmaster
to the children. He kept his school in an open shed, where I was
desired to take up my lodging until some account should arrive from
Sibidooloo concerning my horse and clothes; for though the horse was
of little use to me, yet the few clothes were essential, The little
raiment upon me could neither protect me from the sun by day, nor the
dews and mosquitoes by night: indeed, my shirt was not only worn thin
like a piece of muslin, but withal so very dirty that I was happy to
embrace an opportunity of washing it, which having done, and spread
it upon a bush, I sat down naked in the shade until it was dry.
Ever since the commencement of the rainy season my health had been greatly
on the decline. I had often been affected with slight paroxysms
of fever; and from the time of leaving Bammakoo the symptoms had considerably
increased. As I was sitting in the manner described, the fever
returned with such violence that it very much alarmed me; the more so
as I had no medicine to stop its progress, nor any hope of obtaining
that care and attention which my situation required.
I remained at Wonda nine days, during which time I experienced the regular
return of the fever every day. And though I endeavoured as much
as possible to conceal my distress from my landlord, and frequently
lay down the whole day out of his sight, in a field of corn - conscious
how burdensome I was to him and his family in a time of such great scarcity
- yet I found that he was apprised of my situation; and one morning,
as I feigned to be asleep by the fire, he observed to his wife that
they were likely to find me a very troublesome and chargeable guest;
for that, in my present sickly state, they should be obliged, for the
sake of their good name, to maintain me until I recovered or died.
The scarcity of provisions was certainly felt at this time most severely
by the poor people, as the following circumstance most painfully convinced
me:- Every evening during my stay I observed five or six women come
to the mansa’s house, and receive each of them a certain quantity
of corn. As I knew how valuable this article was at this juncture,
I inquired of the mansa whether he maintained these poor women from
pure bounty, or expected a return when the harvest should be gathered
in. “Observe that boy,” said he (pointing to a fine
child about five years of age); “his mother has sold him to me
for forty days’ provision for herself and the rest of her family.
I have bought another boy in the same manner.” Good God!
thought I, what must a mother suffer before she sells her own child!
I could not get this melancholy subject out of my mind; and the next
night, when the women returned for their allowance, I desired the boy
to point out to me his mother, which he did. She was much emaciated,
but had nothing cruel or savage in her countenance; and when she had
received her corn, she came and talked to her son with as much cheerfulness
as if he had still been under her care.
September 6. - Two people arrived from Sibidooloo, bringing with
them my horse and clothes; but I found that my pocket-compass was broken
to pieces. This was a great loss, which I could not repair.
September 7. - As my horse was grazing near the brink of a well
the ground gave way and he fell in. The well was about ten feet
in diameter, and so very deep that when I saw my horse snorting in the
water I thought it was impossible to save him. The inhabitants
of the village, however, immediately assembled, and having tied together
a number of withes, {3}
they lowered a man down into the well, who fastened those withes round
the body of the horse; and the people, having first drawn up the man,
took hold of the withes and, to my surprise, pulled the horse out with
the greatest facility. The poor animal was now reduced to a mere
skeleton, and the roads were scarcely passable, being either very rocky,
or else full of mud and water. I therefore found it impracticable
to travel with him any farther, and was happy to leave him in the hands
of one who, I thought, would take care of him. I accordingly presented
him to my landlord, and desired him to send my saddle and bridle as
a present to the mansa of Sibidooloo, being the only return I could
make him for having taken so much trouble in procuring my horse and
clothes.
I now thought it necessary, sick as I was, to take leave of my hospitable
landlord. On the morning of September 8th, when I was about to
depart, he presented me with his spear, as a token of remembrance, and
a leather bag to contain my clothes. Having converted my half-boots
into sandals, I travelled with more ease, and slept that night at a
village called Ballanti. On the 9th I reached Nemacoo; but the
mansa of the village thought fit to make me sup upon the chameleon’s
dish. By way of apology, however, he assured me the next morning
that the scarcity of corn was such that he could not possibly allow
me any. I could not accuse him of unkindness, as all the people
actually appeared to be starving.
September 10. - It rained hard all day, and the people kept themselves
in their huts. In the afternoon I was visited by a negro, named
Modi Lemina Taura, a great trader, who, suspecting my distress, brought
me some victuals, and promised to conduct me to his own house at Kinyeto
the day following.
September 11. - I departed from Nemacoo, and arrived at Kinyeto
in the evening; but having hurt my ankle in the way, it swelled and
inflamed so much that I could neither walk nor set my foot to the ground
the next day without great pain. My landlord, observing this,
kindly invited me to stop with him a few days, and I accordingly remained
at his house until the 14th, by which the I felt much relieved, and
could walk with the help of a staff. I now set out, thanking my
landlord for his great care and attention; and being accompanied by
a young man who was travelling the same way, I proceeded for Jerijang,
a beautiful and well-cultivated district, the mansa of which is reckoned
the most powerful chief of any in Manding.
On the 15th I reached Dosita, a large town, where I stayed one day on
account of the rain; but I continued very sickly, and was slightly delirious
in the night. On the 17th I set out for Mansia, a considerable
town, where small quantities of gold are collected. The road led
over a high, rocky hill, and my strength and spirits were so much exhausted
that before I could reach the top of the hill I was forced to lie down
three times, being very faint and sickly. I reached Mansia in
the afternoon. The mansa of this town had the character of being
very inhospitable; he, however, sent me a little corn for my supper,
but demanded something in return; and when I assured him that I had
nothing of value in my possession, he told me (as if in jest) that my
white skin should not defend me if I told him lies. He then showed
me the hut wherein I was to sleep, but took away my spear, saying that
it should be returned to me in the morning. This trifling circumstance,
when joined to the character I had heard of the man, made me rather
suspicious of him, and I privately desired one of the inhabitants of
the place, who had a bow and a quiver, to sleep in the same hunt with
me. About midnight I heard somebody approach the door, and, observing
the moonlight strike suddenly into the hut, I started up and saw a man
stepping cautiously over the threshold. I immediately snatched
up the negro’s bow and quiver, the rattling of which made the
man withdraw; and my companion, looking out, assured me that it was
the mansa himself, and advised me to keep awake until the morning.
I closed the door, and placed a large piece of wood behind it, and was
wondering at this unexpected visit, when somebody pressed so hard against
the door that the negro could scarcely keep it shut; but when I called
to him to open the door, the intruder ran off as before.
September 16. - As soon as it was light the negro, at my request,
went to the mansa’s house and brought away my spear. He
told me that the mansa was asleep, and lest this inhospitable chief
should devise means to detain me, he advised me to set out before he
was awake, which I immediately did, and about two o’clock reached
Kamalia, a small town situated at the bottom of some rocky hills, where
the inhabitants collect gold in considerable quantities.
On my arrival at Kamalia I was conducted to the house of a bushreen
named Karfa Taura, the brother of him to whose hospitality I was indebted
at Kinyeto. He was collecting a coffle of slaves, with a view
to sell them to the Europeans on the Gambia as soon as the rains should
be over. I found him sitting in his baloon, surrounded by several
slatees who proposed to join the coffle. He was reading to them
from an Arabic book, and inquired with a smile if I understood it.
Being answered in the negative, he desired one of the slatees to fetch
the little curious book which had been brought from the west country.
On opening this small volume I was surprised and delighted to find it
our Book of Common Prayer, and Karfa expressed great joy to hear that
I could read it; for some of the slatees, who had seen the Europeans
upon the coast, observing the colour of my skin (which was now become
very yellow from sickness), my long beard, ragged clothes, and extreme
poverty, were unwilling to admit that I was a white man, and told Karfa
that they suspected I was some Arab in disguise. Karfa, however,
perceiving that I could read this book, had no doubt concerning me,
and kindly promised me every assistance in his power. At the same
time he informed me that it was impossible to cross the Jallonka wilderness
for many months yet to come, as no less than eight rapid rivers, he
said, lay in the way. He added that he intended to set out himself
for Gambia as soon as the rivers were fordable and the grass burnt,
and advised me to stay and accompany him. He remarked that when
a caravan of the natives could not travel through the country it was
idle for a single white man to attempt it. I readily admitted
that such an attempt was an act of rashness, but I assured him that
I had no alternative, for, having no money to support myself, I must
either beg my subsistence by travelling from place to place, or perish
for want. Karfa now looked at me with great earnestness, and inquired
if I could eat the common victuals of the country, assuring me he had
never before seen a white man. He added that if I would remain
with him until the rains were over, he would give me plenty of victuals
in the meantime, and a hut to sleep in; and that after he had conducted
me in safety to the Gambia, I might then make him what return I thought
proper. I asked him if the value of one prime slave would satisfy
him. He answered in the affirmative, and immediately ordered one
of the huts to be swept for my accommodation. Thus was I delivered,
by the friendly care of this benevolent negro, from a situation truly
deplorable. Distress and famine pressed hard upon me. I
had before me the gloomy wilds of Jallonkadoo, where the traveller sees
no habitation for five successive days. I had observed at a distance
the rapid course of the river Kokoro. I had almost marked out
the place where I was doomed, I thought, to perish, when this friendly
negro stretched out his hospitable hand for my relief.
In the hut which was appropriated for me I was provided with a mat to
sleep on, an earthen jar for holding water, and a small calabash to
drink out of; and Karfa sent me, from his own dwelling, two meals a
day, and ordered his slaves to supply me with firewood and water.
But I found that neither the kindness of Karfa nor any sort of accommodation
could put a stop to the fever which weakened me, and which became every
day more alarming. I endeavoured as much as possible to conceal
my distress; but on the third day after my arrival, as I was going with
Karfa to visit some of his friends, I found myself so faint that I could
scarcely walk, and before we reached the place I staggered and fell
into a pit, from which the clay had been taken to build one of the huts.
Karfa endeavoured to console me with the hopes of a speedy recovery,
assuring me that if I would not walk out in the wet I should soon be
well. I determined to follow his advice, and confine myself to
my hut, but was still tormented with the fever, and my health continued
to be in a very precarious state for five ensuing weeks. Sometimes
I could crawl out of the hut, and sit a few hours in the open air; at
other times I was unable to rise, and passed the lingering hours in
a very gloomy and solitary manner. I was seldom visited by any
person except my benevolent landlord, who came daily to inquire after
my health.
When the rains became less frequent, and the country began to grow dry,
the fever left me, but in so debilitated a condition that I could scarcely
stand upright; and it was with great difficulty that I could carry my
mat to the shade of a tamarind-tree, at a short distance, to enjoy the
refreshing smell of the cornfields, and delight my eyes with a prospect
of the country. I had the pleasure at length to find myself in
a state of convalescence, towards which the benevolent and simple manners
of the negroes, and the perusal of Karfa’s little volume, greatly
contributed.
In the meantime many of the slatees who reside at Kamalia having spent
all their money, and become in a great measure dependent upon Karfa’s
hospitality, beheld me with an eye of envy, and invented many ridiculous
and trifling stories to lessen me in Karfa’s esteem. And
in the beginning of December a Serawoolli slatee, with five slaves,
arrived from Sego; this man, too, spread a number of malicious reports
concerning me, but Karfa paid no attention to them, and continued to
show me the same kindness as formerly. As I was one day conversing
with the slaves which this slatee had brought, one of them begged me
to give him some victuals. I told him I was a stranger, and had
none to give. He replied, “I gave you victuals when you
were hungry. Have you forgot the man who brought you milk at Karrankalla?
But,” added he with a sigh, “the irons were not then
upon my legs!” I immediately recollected him, and begged
some ground nuts from Karfa to give him, as a return for his former
kindness.
In the beginning of December, Karfa proposed to complete his purchase
of slaves, and for this purpose collected all the debts which were owing
to him in his own country; and on the 19th, being accompanied by three
slatees, he departed for Kancaba, a large town on the banks of the Niger
and a great slave-market. Most of the slaves who are sold at Kancaba
come from Bambarra; for Mansong, to avoid the expense and danger of
keeping all his prisoners at Sego, commonly sends them in small parties
to be sold at the different trading towns; and as Kancaba is much resorted
to by merchants it is always well supplied with slaves, which are sent
thither up the Niger in canoes. When Karfa departed from Kamalia
he proposed to return in the course of a month, and during his absence
I was left to the care of a good old bushreen, who acted as schoolmaster
to the young people of Kamalia.
CHAPTER XX - NEGRO CUSTOMS
The whole of my route, both in going and returning, having been confined
to a tract of country bounded nearly by the 12th and 15th parallels
of latitude, the reader must imagine that I found the climate in most
places extremely hot, but nowhere did I feel the heat so intense and
oppressive as in the camp at Benowm, of which mention has been made
in a former place. In some parts, where the country ascends into
hills, the air is at all times, comparatively cool; yet none of the
districts which I traversed could properly be called mountainous.
About the middle of June the hot and sultry atmosphere is agitated by
violent gusts of wind (called tornadoes), accompanied with thunder and
rain. These usher in what is denominated “the rainy season,”
which continues until the month of November. During this time
the diurnal rains are very heavy, and the prevailing winds are from
the south-west. The termination of the rainy season is likewise
attended with violent tornadoes, after which the wind shifts to the
north-east, and continues to blow from that quarter during the rest
of the year
When the wind sets in from the north-east it produces a wonderful change
in the face of the country. The grass soon becomes dry and withered,
the rivers subside very rapidly, and many of the trees shed their leaves.
About this period is commonly felt the harmattan, a dry and parching
wind blowing from the north-east, and accompanied by a thick smoky haze,
through which the sun appears of a dull red colour. This wind
in passing over the great desert of Sahara acquires a very strong attraction
for humidity, and parches up everything exposed to its current.
It is, however, reckoned very salutary, particularly to Europeans, who
generally recover their health during its continuance. I experienced
immediate relief from sickness, both at Dr. Laidley’s and at Kamalia,
during the harmattan. Indeed, the air during the rainy season
is so loaded with moisture that clothes, shoes, trunks, and everything
that is not close to the fire becomes damp and mouldy, and the inhabitants
may be said to live in a sort of vapour-bath; but this dry wind braces
up the solids, which were before relaxed, gives a cheerful flow of spirits,
and is even pleasant to respiration. Its ill effects are, that
it produces chaps in the lips, and afflicts many of the natives with
sore eyes.
Whenever the grass is sufficiently dry the negroes set it on fire; but
in Ludamar and other Moorish countries this practice is not allowed,
for it is upon the withered stubble that the Moors feed their cattle
until the return of the rains. The burning the grass in Manding
exhibits a scene of terrific grandeur. In the middle of the night
I could see the plains and mountains, as far as my eye could reach,
variegated with lines of fire, and the light, reflected on the sky,
made the heavens appear in a blaze. In the daytime pillars of
smoke were seen in every direction, while the birds of prey were observed
hovering round the conflagration, and pouncing down upon the snakes,
lizards, and other reptiles which attempted to escape from the flames.
This annual burning is soon followed by a fresh and sweet verdure, and
the country is thereby rendered more healthful and pleasant.
Of the most remarkable and important of the vegetable productions mention
has already been made; and they are nearly the same in all the districts
through which I passed. It is observable, however, that although
many species of the edible roots which grow in the West India Islands
are found in Africa, yet I never saw, in any part of my journey, either
the sugar-cane, the coffee, or the cocoa-tree, nor could I learn, on
inquiry, that they were known to the natives. The pine-apple and
the thousand other delicious fruits which the industry of civilised
man (improving the bounties of nature) has brought to so great perfection
in the tropical climates of America, are here equally unknown.
I observed, indeed, a few orange and banana trees near the month of
the Gambia, but whether they were indigenous, or were formerly planted
there by some of the white traders, I could not positively learn.
I suspect that they were originally introduced by the Portuguese.
Concerning property in the soil, it appeared to me that the lands in
native woods were considered as belonging to the king, or (where the
government was not monarchical) to the state. When any individual
of free condition had the means of cultivating more land than he actually
possessed, he applied to the chief man of the district, who allowed
him an extension of territory, on condition of forfeiture if the lands
were not brought into cultivation by a given period. The condition
being fulfilled, the soil became vested in the possessor, and, for ought
that appeared to me, descended his heirs.
The population, however, considering the extent and fertility of the
soil, and the ease with which lands are obtained, is not very great
in the countries which I visited. I found many extensive and beautiful
districts entirely destitute of inhabitants, and, in general, the borders
of the different kingdoms were either very thinly peopled or entirely
deserted. Many places are likewise unfavourable to population
from being unhealthful. The swampy banks of the Gambia, the Senegal,
and other rivers towards the coast, are of this description. Perhaps
it is on this account chiefly that the interior countries abound more
with inhabitants than the maritime districts; for all the negro nations
that fell under my observation, though divided into a number of petty
independent states, subsist chiefly by the same means, live nearly in
the same temperature, and possess a wonderful similarity of disposition.
The Mandingoes, in particular, are a very gentle race, cheerful in their
dispositions, inquisitive, credulous, simple, and fond of flattery.
Perhaps the most prominent defect in their character was that insurmountable
propensity, which the reader must have observed to prevail in all classes
of them, to steal from me the few effects I was possessed of.
For this part of their conduct no complete justification can be offered,
because theft is a crime in their own estimation; and it must be observed
that they are not habitually and generally guilty of it towards each
other.
On the other hand, as some counterbalance to this depravity in their
nature, allowing it to be such, it is impossible for me to forget the
disinterested charity and tender solicitude with which many of these
poor heathens (from the sovereign of Sego to the poor women who received
me at different times into their cottages when I was perishing of hunger)
sympathised with me in my sufferings, relieved my distresses, and contributed
to my safety. This acknowledgment, however, is perhaps more particularly
due to the female part of the nation. Among the men, as the reader
must have seen, my reception, though generally kind, was sometimes otherwise.
It varied according to the various tempers of those to whom I made application.
The hardness of avarice in some, and the blindness of bigotry in others,
had closed up the avenues to compassion; but I do not recollect a single
instance of hard-heartedness towards me in the women. In all my
wanderings and wretchedness I found them uniformly kind and compassionate;
and I can truly say, as my predecessor Mr. Ledyard has eloquently said
before me, “To a woman I never addressed myself in the language
of decency and friendship without receiving a decent and friendly answer.
If I was hungry or thirsty, wet or sick, they did not hesitate, like
the men, to perform a generous action. In so free and so kind
a manner did they contribute to my relief, that if I was dry, I drank
the sweetest draught, and if hungry, I ate the coarsest morsel with
a double relish.”
It is surely reasonable to suppose that the soft and amiable sympathy
of nature, which was thus spontaneously manifested towards me in my
distress, is displayed by these poor people, as occasion requires, much
more strongly towards persons of their own nation and neighbourhood,
and especially when the objects of their compassion are endeared to
them by the ties of consanguinity. Accordingly the maternal affection
(neither suppressed by the restraints nor diverted by the solicitudes
of civilised life) is everywhere conspicuous among them, and creates
a correspondent return of tenderness in the child. An illustration
of this has been already given. “Strike me,” said
my attendant, “but do not curse my mother.” The same
sentiment I found universally to prevail, and observed in all parts
of Africa that the greatest affront which could be offered to a negro
was to reflect on her who gave him birth.
It is not strange that this sense of filial duty and affection among
the negroes should be less ardent towards the father than the mother.
The system of polygamy, while it weakens the father’s attachment
by dividing it among the children of different wives, concentrates all
the mother’s jealous tenderness to one point - the protection
of her own offspring. I perceived with great satisfaction, too,
that the maternal solicitude extended, not only to the growth and security
of the person, but also, in a certain degree, to the improvement of
the mind of the infant; for one of the first lessons in which the Mandingo
women instruct their children is the practice of truth.
The reader will probably recollect the case of the unhappy mother whose
son was murdered by the Moorish banditti at Funingkedy. Her only
consolation in her uttermost distress was the reflection that the poor
boy, in the course of his blameless life, had never told a lie.
Such testimony from a fond mother on such an occasion must have operated
powerfully on the youthful part of the surrounding spectators.
It was at once a tribute of praise to the deceased and a lesson to the
living.
The negro women suckle their children until they are able to walk of
themselves. Three years’ nursing is not uncommon, and during
this period the husband devotes his whole attention to his other wives.
To this practice it is owing, I presume, that the family of each wife
is seldom very numerous. Few women have more than five or six
children. As soon as an infant is able to walk it is permitted
to run about with great freedom. The mother is not over solicitous
to preserve it from slight falls and other trifling accidents.
A little practice soon enables a child to take care of itself, and experience
acts the part of a nurse. As they advance in life the girls are
taught to spin cotton and to beat corn, and are instructed in other
domestic duties; and the boys are employed in the labours of the field.
Both sexes, whether bushreens or kafirs, on attaining the age of puberty,
are circumcised. This painful operation is not considered by the
kafirs so much in the light of a religious ceremony as a matter of convenience
and utility. They have, indeed, a superstitious notion that it
contributes to render the marriage state prolific. The operation
is performed upon several young people at the same time, all of whom
are exempted from every sort of labour for two months afterwards.
During this period they form a society called solimana.
They visit the towns and villages in the neighbourhood, where they dance
and sing, and are well treated by the inhabitants. I had frequently,
in the course of my journey, observed parties of this description, but
they were all males. I had, however, an opportunity of seeing
a female solimana at Kamalia.
In the course of this celebration it frequently happens that some of
the young women get married. If a man takes a fancy to any one
of them, it is not considered as absolutely necessary that he should
make an overture to the girl herself. The first object is to agree
with the parents concerning the recompense to be given them for the
loss of the company and services of their daughter. The value
of two slaves is a common price, unless the girl is thought very handsome,
in which case the parents will raise their demand very considerably.
If the lover is rich enough, and willing to give the sum demanded, he
then communicates his wishes to the damsel; but her consent is by no
means necessary to the match, for if the parents agree to it and eat
a few kolla-nuts, which are represented by the suitor as an earnest
of the bargain, the young lady must either have the man of their choice
or continue unmarried, for she cannot afterwards be given to another.
If the parents should attempt it, the lover is then authorised by the
laws of the country to seize upon the girl as his slave. When
the day for celebrating the nuptials is fixed on, a select number of
people are invited to be present at the wedding - a bullock or goat
is killed, and great plenty of victuals is dressed for the occasion.
As soon as it is dark the bride is conducted into a hut, where a company
of matrons assist in arranging the wedding-dress, which is always white
cotton, and is put on in such a manner as to conceal the bride from
head to foot. Thus arrayed, she is seated upon a mat in the middle
of the floor, and the old women place themselves in a circle round her.
They then give her a series of instructions, and point out, with great
propriety, what ought to be her future conduct in life. This scene
of instruction, however, is frequently interrupted by girls, who amuse
the company with songs and dances, which are rather more remarkable
for their gaiety than delicacy. While the bride remains within
the hut with the women the bridegroom devotes his attention to the guests
of both sexes, who assemble without doors, and by distributing among
them small presents of kolla-nuts, and seeing that every one partakes
of the good cheer which is provided, he contributes much to the general
hilarity of the evening. When supper is ended, the company spend
the remainder of the night in singing and dancing, and seldom separate
until daybreak. About midnight the bride is privately conducted
by the women into the hut which is to be her future residence, and the
bridegroom, upon a signal given, retires from his company.
The negroes, as hath been frequently observed, whether Mohammedan or
pagan, allow a plurality of wives. The Mohammedans alone are by
their religion confined to four, and as the husband commonly pays a
great price for each, he requires from all of them the utmost deference
and submission, and treats them more like hired servants than companions.
They have. however, the management of domestic affairs, and each in
rotation is mistress of the household, and has the care of dressing
the victuals, overlooking the female slaves, etc. But though the
African husbands are possessed of great authority over their wives I
did not observe that in general they treat them with cruelty, neither
did I perceive that mean jealousy in their dispositions which is so
prevalent among the Moors. They permit their wives to partake
of all public diversions, and this indulgence is seldom abused, for
though the negro women are very cheerful and frank in their behaviour,
they are by no means given to intrigue - I believe that instances of
conjugal infidelity are not common. When the wives quarrel among
themselves - a circumstance which, from the nature of their situation,
must frequently happen - the husband decides between them, and sometimes
finds it necessary to administer a little corporal chastisement before
tranquillity can be restored. But if any one of the ladies complains
to the chief of the town that her husband has unjustly punished her,
and shown an undue partiality to some other of his wives, the affair
is brought to a public trial. In these palavers, however, which
are conducted chiefly by married men, I was informed that the complaint
of the wife is not always considered in a very serious light, and the
complainant herself is sometimes convicted of strife and contention
and left without remedy. If she murmurs at the decision of the
court the magic rod of Mumbo Jumbo soon puts an end to the business.
The children of the Mandingoes are not always named after their relations,
but frequently in consequence of some remarkable occurrence. Thus
my landlord at Kamalia was called Karfa, a word signifying to
replace, because he was born shortly after the death of one of his
brothers. Other names are descriptive of good or bad qualities
- as Modi, a good man; Fadibba, father of the town, etc
Indeed, the very names of their towns have something descriptive in
them, as Sibidooloo, the town of ciboa-trees; Kenneyeto, victuals
here; Dosita, lift your spoon. Others appear to be given
by way of reproach - as Bammakoo, wash a crocodile; Karrankalla,
no cup to drink from, etc. A child is named when it is seven
or eight days old. The ceremony commences by shaving the infant’s
head; and a dish culled dega, made of pounded corn and sour milk,
is prepared for the guests. If the parents are rich, a sheep or
goat is commonly added. The feast is called ding koon lee (the
child’s head-shaving). During my stay at Kamalia I was present
at four different feasts of this kind, and the ceremony was the same
in each, whether the child belonged to a bushreen or a kafir.
The schoolmaster, who officiated as priest on those occasions, and who
is necessarily a bushreen, first said a long prayer over the dega, during
which every person present took hold of the brim of the calabash with
his right hand. After this the schoolmaster took the child in
his arms and said a second prayer, in which he repeatedly solicited
the blessing of God upon the child and upon all the company. When
this prayer was ended he whispered a few sentences in the child’s
ear and spat three times in its face, after which he pronounced its
name aloud, and returned the infant to the mother. {4}
This part of the ceremony being ended, the father of the child divided
the dega into a number of balls, one of which he distributed to every
person present; and inquiry was then made if any person in the town
was dangerously sick, it being usual in such cases to send the party
a large portion of the dega, which is thought to possess great medical
virtues.
Among the negroes every individual, besides his own proper name, has
likewise a kontong, or surname, to denote the family or clan
to which he belongs. Some of these families are very numerous
and powerful. It is impossible to enumerate the various kontongs
which are found in different parts of the country, though the knowledge
of many of them is of great service to the traveller; for as every negro
plumes himself upon the importance or the antiquity of his clan, he
is much flattered when he is addressed by his kontong.
Salutations among the negroes to each other when they meet are always
observed, but those in most general use among the kafirs are, “Abbe
haeretto,” “’E ning seni,” “Anawari,”
etc., all of which have nearly the same meaning, and signify “Are
you well?” or to that effect. There are likewise salutations
which are used at different times of the day, as “E ning somo”
(“Good morning”), etc. The general answer to all salutations
is to repeat the kontong of the person who salutes, or else to repeat
the salutation itself, first pronouncing the word marhaba (“My
friend”).
CHAPTER XXI - RELIGIOUS BELIEFS AND INDUSTRIES OF THE MANDINGOES
The Mandingoes and, I believe, the negroes in general, have no artificial
method of dividing time. They calculate the years by the number
of rainy seasons. They portion the year into moons,
and reckon the days by so many suns. The day they divide into
morning, midday, and evening; and farther subdivide it, when necessary,
by pointing to the sun’s place in the heavens. I frequently
inquired of some of them what became of the sun during the night, and
whether we should see the same sun, or a different one, in the morning;
but I found that they considered the question as very childish.
The subject appeared to them as placed beyond the reach of human investigation
- they had never indulged a conjecture, nor formed any hypothesis, about
the matter. The moon, by varying her form, has more attracted
their attention. On the first appearance of the new moon, which
they look upon to be newly created, the pagan natives, as well as Mohammedans,
say a short prayer; and this seems to be the only visible adoration
which the kafirs offer up to the Supreme Being. This prayer is
pronounced in a whisper, the party holding up his hands before his face:
its purport (as I have been assured by many different people) is to
return thanks to God for His kindness through the existence of the past
moon, and to solicit a continuation of His favour during that of the
new one. At the conclusion they spit upon their hands and rub
them over their faces. This seems to be nearly the same ceremony
which prevailed among the heathens in the days of Job. {5}
Great attention, however, is paid to the changes of this luminary in
its monthly course, and it is thought very unlucky to begin a journey,
or any other work of consequence, in the last quarter. An eclipse,
whether of the sun or moon, is supposed to be effected by witchcraft.
The stars are very little regarded; and the whole study of astronomy
appears to them as a useless pursuit, and attended to by such persons
only as deal in magic.
Their notions of geography are equally puerile. They imagine that
the world is an extended plain, the termination of which no eye has
discovered - it being, they say, overhung with clouds and darkness.
They describe the sea as a large river of salt water, on the farther
shore of which is situated a country called Tobaubo doo (the
land of the white people). At a distance from Tobaubo doo they
describe another country, which they allege as inhabited by cannibals
of gigantic size, called komi. This country they call Jong
sang doo (the land where the slaves are sold). But of all
countries in the world their own appears to them as the best, and their
own people as the happiest, and they pity the fate of other nations,
who have been placed by Providence in less fertile and less fortunate
districts.
Some of the religious opinions of the negroes, though blended with the
weakest credulity and superstition, are not unworthy attention.
I have conversed with all ranks and conditions upon the subject of their
faith, and can pronounce, without the smallest shadow of doubt, that
the belief of one God and of a future state of reward and punishment
is entire and universal among them. It is remarkable, however,
that except on the appearance of a new moon, as before related, the
pagan natives do not think it necessary to offer up prayers and supplications
to the Almighty. They represent the Deity, indeed, as the creator
and preserver of all things, but in general they consider Him as a being
so remote and of so exalted a nature that it is idle to imagine the
feeble supplications of wretched mortals can reverse the decrees and
change the purposes of unerring wisdom. If they are asked for
what reason then do they offer up a prayer on the appearance of the
new moon, the answer is, that custom has made it necessary, they do
it because their fathers did it before them. Such is the blindness
of unassisted nature! The concerns of this world, they believe,
are committed by the Almighty to the superintendence and direction of
subordinate spirits, over whom they suppose that certain magical ceremonies
have great influence. A white fowl suspended to the branch of
a particular tree, a snake’s head or a few handfuls of fruit are
offerings which ignorance and superstition frequently present, to deprecate
the wrath, or to conciliate the favour, of these tutelary agents.
But it is not often that the negroes make their religious opinions the
subject of conversation; when interrogated in particular concerning
their ideas of a future state, they express themselves with great reverence,
but endeavour to shorten the discussion by observing, “Mo o
mo inta allo” (“No man knows anything about it”).
They are content, they say, to follow the precepts and examples of their
forefathers through the various vicissitudes of life, and when this
world presents no objects of enjoyment or of comfort they seem to look
with anxiety towards another, which they believe will be better suited
to their natures, but concerning which they are far from indulging vain
and delusive conjectures.
The Mandingoes seldom attain extreme old age. At forty most of
them become grey-haired and covered with wrinkles, and but few of them
survive the age of fifty-five or sixty. They calculate the years
of their lives, as I have already observed, by the number of rainy seasons
(there being but one such in the year), and distinguish each year by
a particular name, founded on some remarkable occurrence which happened
in that year. Thus they say the year of the Farbanna war
- the year of the Kaarta war - the year on which Gadou was
plundered, etc., etc.; and I have no doubt that the year 1796 will
in many places be distinguished by the name of tobaubo tambi sang
(the year the white man passed), as such an occurrence would naturally
form an epoch in their traditional history.
But notwithstanding that longevity is uncommon among them, it appeared
to me that their diseases are but few in number. Their simple
diet and active way of life preserve them from many of those disorders
which embitter the days of luxury and idleness. Fevers and fluxes
are the most common and the most fatal. For these they generally
apply saphies to different parts of the body, and perform a great many
other superstitious ceremonies - some of which are indeed well calculated
to inspire the patient with the hope of recovery, and divert his mind
from brooding over his own danger - but I have sometimes observed among
them a more systematic mode of treatment. On the first attack
of a fever, when the patient complains of cold, he is frequently placed
in a sort of vapour-bath. This is done by spreading branches of
the nauclea orientalis upon hot wood embers, and laying the patient
upon them, wrapped up in a large cotton cloth. Water is then sprinkled
upon the branches, which, descending to the hot embers, soon covers
the patient with a cloud of vapour, in which he is allowed to remain
until the embers are almost extinguished. This practice commonly
produces a profuse perspiration, and wonderfully relieves the sufferer.
For the dysentery they use the bark of different trees reduced to powder
and mixed with the patient’s food; but this practice is in general
very unsuccessful.
The other diseases which prevail among the negroes are the yaws,
the elephantiasis, and a leprosy of the very worst
kind. This last-mentioned complaint appears at the beginning in
scurfy spots upon different parts of the body, which finally settle
upon the hands or feet, where the skin becomes withered, and, cracks
in many places. At length the ends of the fingers swell and ulcerate,
the discharge is acrid and fetid, the nails drop off, and the bones
of the fingers become carious, and separate at the joints. In
this manner the disease continues to spread, frequently until the patient
loses all his fingers and toes. Even the hands and feet are sometimes
destroyed by this inveterate malady, to which the negroes give the name
of balla ou (incurable).
The guinea worm is likewise very common in certain places, especially
at the commencement of the rainy season. The negroes attribute
this disease, which has been described by many writers, to bad water,
and allege that the people who drink from wells are more subject to
it than those who drink from streams. To the same cause they attribute
the swelling of the glands of the neck (goitres), which are very
common in some parts of Bambarra. I observed also, in the interior
countries, a few instances of simple gonorrhœa, but never
the confirmed lues. On the whole, it appeared to me that
the negroes are better surgeons than physicians. I found them
very successful in their management of fractures and dislocations, and
their splints and bandages are simple and easily removed. The
patient is laid upon a soft mat, and the fractured limb is frequently
bathed with cold water. All abscesses they open with the actual
cautery, and the dressings are composed of either soft leaves, shea
butter, or cow’s dung, as the case seems in their judgment to
require. Towards the coast, where a supply of European lancets
can be procured, they sometimes perform phlebotomy, and in cases of
local inflammation a curious sort of cupping is practised. This
operation is performed by making incisions in the part, and applying
to it a bullock’s horn with a small hole in the end. The
operator then takes a piece of bee’s wax in his mouth, and, putting
his lips to the hole, extracts the air from the horn, and by a dexterous
use of his tongue stops up the hole with the wax. This method
is found to answer the purpose, and in general produces a plentiful
discharge.
When a person of consequence dies, the relations and neighbours meet
together and manifest their sorrow by loud and dismal howlings.
A bullock or goat is killed for such persons as come to assist at the
funeral, which generally takes place in the evening of the same day
on which the party died. The negroes have no appropriate burial-places,
and frequently dig the grave in the floor of the deceased’s hut,
or in the shade of a favourite tree. The body is dressed in white
cotton, and wrapped up in a mat. It is carried to the grave in
the dusk of the evening by the relations. If the grave is without
the walls of the town a number of prickly bushes are laid upon it to
prevent the wolves from digging up the body; but I never observed that
any stone was placed over the grave as a monument or memorial.
Of their music and dances some account has incidentally been given in
different parts of my journal. On the first of these heads I have
now to add a list of their musical instruments, the principal of which
are - the koonting, a sort of guitar with three strings; the
korro, a large harp with eighteen strings; the simbing, a
small harp with seven strings; the balafou, an instrument composed
of twenty pieces of hard wood of different lengths, with the shells
of gourds hung underneath to increase the sound; the tangtang, a
drum open at the lower end; and, lastly, the tabala, a large
drum, commonly used to spread an alarm through the country. Besides
these, they make use of small flutes, bow-strings, elephants’
teeth and bells; and at all their dances and concerts clapping of
hands appears to constitute a necessary part of the chorus.
With the love of music is naturally connected a taste for poetry; and
fortunately for the poets of Africa they are in a great measure exempted
from that neglect and indigence which in more polished countries commonly
attend the votaries of the Muses. They consist of two classes;
the most numerous are the singing men, called jilli kea, mentioned
in a former part of my narrative. One or more of these may be
found in every town. They sing extempore songs in honour of their
chief men, or any other persons who are willing to give “solid
pudding for empty praise.” But a nobler part of their office
is to recite the historical events of their country; hence in war they
accompany the soldiers to the field, in order, by reciting the great
actions of their ancestors, to awaken in them a spirit of glorious emulation.
The other class are devotees of the Mohammedan faith, who travel about
the country singing devout hymns and performing religious ceremonies,
to conciliate the favour of the Almighty, either in averting calamity
or insuring success to any enterprise. Both descriptions of these
itinerant bards are much employed and respected by the people, and very
liberal contributions are made for them.
The usual diet of the negroes is somewhat different in different districts;
in general the people of free condition breakfast about daybreak upon
gruel made of meal and water, with a little of the fruit of the tamarind
to give it an acid taste. About two o’clock in the afternoon
a sort of hasty pudding, with a little shea butter, is the common meal;
but the supper constitutes the principal repast, and is seldom ready
before midnight. This consists almost universally of kouskous,
with a small portion of animal food or shea butter mixed with it.
In eating, the kafirs, as well as Mohammedans, use the right hand only.
The beverages of the pagan negroes are beer and mead, of each of which
they frequently drink to excess. The Mohammedan convert drinks
nothing but water. The natives of all descriptions take snuff
and smoke tobacco; their pipes are made of wood, with an earthen bowl
of curious workmanship. But in the interior countries the greatest
of all luxuries is salt. It would appear strange to a European
to see a child suck a piece of rock salt as if it were sugar.
This, however, I have frequently seen, although, in the inland parts,
the poorer class of inhabitants are so very rarely indulged with this
precious article that to say a man ate salt with his victuals is
the same as saying he is a very rich man. I have myself
suffered great inconvenience from the scarcity of this article.
The long use of vegetable food creates so painful a longing for salt
that no words can sufficiently describe it.
The negroes in general, and the Mandingoes in particular, are considered
by the whites on the coast as an indolent and inactive people - I think
without reason. The nature of the climate is, indeed, unfavourable
to great exertion; but surely a people cannot justly be denominated
habitually indolent whose wants are supplied, not by the spontaneous
productions of nature, but by their own exertions. Few people
work harder, when occasion requires, than the Mandingoes; but not having
many opportunities of turning to advantage the superfluous produce of
their labour, they are content with cultivating as much ground only
as is necessary for their own support. The labours of the field
give them pretty full employment during the rains; and in the dry season
the people who live in the vicinity of large rivers employ themselves
in fishing. The fish are taken in wicker baskets or with small
cotton nets, and are preserved by being first dried in the sun and afterwards
rubbed with shea butter, to prevent them from contracting fresh moisture.
Others of the natives employ themselves in hunting. Their weapons
are bows and arrows; but the arrows in common use are not poisoned.
{6} They are
very dexterous marksmen, and will hit a lizard on a tree, or any other
small object, at an amazing distance. They likewise kill guinea-fowls,
partridges, and pigeons, but never on the wing. While the men
are occupied in these pursuits the women are very diligent in manufacturing
cotton cloth. They prepare the cotton for spinning by laying it
in small quantities at a time upon a smooth stone or piece of wood,
and rolling the seeds out with a thick iron spindle; and they spin it
with the distaff. The thread is not fine, but well twisted, and
makes a very durable cloth. A woman with common diligence will
spin from six to nine garments of this cloth in one year, which, according
to its fineness, will sell for a minkalli and a half or two minkallies
each. {7} The
weaving is performed by the men. The loom is made exactly upon
the same principle as that of Europe, but so small and narrow that the
web is seldom more than four inches broad. The shuttle is of the
common construction, but as the thread is coarse the chamber is somewhat
larger than the European.
The women dye this cloth of a rich and lasting blue colour by the following
simple process: - The leaves of the indigo, when fresh gathered, are
pounded in a wooden mortar, and mixed in a large earthen jar with a
strong ley of wood-ashes; chamber-ley is sometimes added. The
cloth is steeped in this mixture, and allowed to remain until it has
acquired the proper shade. In Kaarta and Ludamar, where the indigo
is not plentiful, they collect the leaves and dry them in the sun; and
when they wish to use them they reduce a sufficient quantity to powder
and mix it with the ley, as before mentioned. Either way the colour
is very beautiful, with a fine purple gloss, and equal in my opinion
to the best Indian or European blue. This cloth is cut into various
pieces and sewed into garments with needles of the natives’ own
making.
As the arts of weaving, dyeing, sewing, etc., may easily be acquired,
those who exercise them are not considered in Africa as following any
particular profession, for almost every slave can weave, and every boy
can sew. The only artists who are distinctly acknowledged as such
by the negroes, and who value themselves on exercising appropriate and
peculiar trades, are the manufacturers of leather and of iron.
The first of these are called karrankea (or, as the word is sometimes
pronounced, gaungay). They are to be found in almost every
town, and they frequently travel through the country in the exercise
of their calling. They tan and dress leather with very great expedition,
by steeping the hide first in a mixture of wood-ashes and water until
it parts with the hair, and afterwards by using the pounded leaves of
a tree called goo as an astringent. They are at great pains
to render the hide as soft and pliant as possible, by rubbing it frequently
between their hands and beating it upon a stone. The hides of
bullocks are converted chiefly into sandals, and therefore require less
care in dressing than the skins of sheep and goats, which are used for
covering quivers and saphies, and in making sheaths for swords and knives,
belts, pockets, and a variety of ornaments. These skins commonly
are dyed of a red or yellow colour - the red by means of millet stalks
reduced to powder; and the yellow by the root of a plant the name of
which I have forgotten.
The manufacturers in iron are not so numerous as the karrankeas,
but they appear to have studied their business with equal diligence.
The negroes on the coast being cheaply supplied with iron from the European
traders, never attempt the manufacturing of this article themselves;
but in the inland parts the natives smelt this useful metal in such
quantities not only to supply themselves from it with all necessary
weapons and instruments, but even to make it a article of commerce with
some of the neighbouring states. During my stay at Kamalia there
was a smelting furnace at a short distance from the hut where I lodged,
and the owner and his workmen made no secret about the manner of conducting
the operation, and readily allowed me to examine the furnace, and assist
them in breaking the ironstone. The furnace was a circular tower
of clay, about ten feet high and three feet in diameter, surrounded
in two places with withes, to prevent the clay from cracking and falling
to pieces by the violence of the heat. Round the lower part, on
a level with the ground - but not so low as the bottom of the furnace,
which was somewhat concave - were made seven openings, into every one
of which were placed three tubes of clay, and the openings again plastered
up in such a manner that no air could enter the furnace but through
the tubes, by the opening and shutting of which they regulated the fire.
These tubes were formed by plastering a mixture of clay and grass round
a smooth roller of wood, which, as soon as the clay began to harden,
was withdrawn, and the tube left to dry in the sun. The ironstone
which I saw was very heavy, of a dull red colour with greyish specks;
it was broken into pieces about the size of a hen’s egg.
A bundle of dry wood was first put into the furnace, and covered with
a considerable quantity of charcoal, which was brought, ready burnt,
from the woods. Over this was laid a stratum of ironstone, and
then another of charcoal, and so on, until the furnace was quite full.
The fire was applied through one of the tubes, and blown for some time
with bellows made of goats’ skins. The operation went on
very slowly at first, and it was some hours before the flame appeared
above the furnace; but after this it burnt with great violence all the
first night, and the people who attended put in at times more charcoal.
On the day following the fire was not so fierce, and on the second night
some of the tubes were withdrawn and the air allowed to have freer access
to the furnace; but the heat was still very great, and a bluish flame
rose some feet above the top of the furnace. On the third day
from the commencement of the operation, all the tubes were taken out,
the ends of many of them being vitrified with the heat; but the metal
was not removed until some days afterwards, when the whole was perfectly
cool. Part of the furnace was then taken down, and the iron appeared
in the form of a large irregular mass, with pieces of charcoal adhering
to it. It was sonorous; and when any portion was broken off, the
fracture exhibited a granulated appearance, like broken steel.
The owner informed me that many parts of this cake were useless, but
still there was good iron enough to repay him for his trouble.
This iron, or rather steel, is formed into various instruments by being
repeatedly heated in a forge, the heat of which is urged by a pair of
double bellows of a very simple construction, being made of two goats’
skins the tubes from which unite before they enter the forge, and supply
a constant and very regular blast. The hammer, forceps, and anvil
are all very simple, and the workmanship (particularly in the formation
of knives and spears) is not destitute of merit. The iron, indeed,
is hard and brittle, and requires much labour before it can be made
to answer the purpose.
Such is the chief information I obtained concerning the present state
of arts and manufactures in those regions of Africa which I explored
in my journey. I might add, though it is scarce worthy observation,
that in Bambarra and Kaarta the natives make very beautiful baskets,
hats, and other articles, both for use and ornament, from rushes, which
they stain of different colours; and they contrive also to cover their
calabashes with interwoven cane, dyed in the same manner.
CHAPTER XXII - WAR AND SLAVERY
A state of subordination and certain inequalities of rank and condition
are inevitable in every stage of civil society; but when the subordination
is carried to so great a length that the persons and services of one
part of the community are entirely at the disposal of another part,
it may then be denominated a state of slavery, and in this condition
of life a great body of the negro inhabitants of Africa have continued
from the most early period of their history, with this aggravation,
that their children are born to no other inheritance.
The slaves in Africa, I suppose, are nearly in the proportion of three
to one to the freemen. They claim no reward for their services
except food and clothing, and are treated with kindness or severity,
according to the good or bad disposition of their masters. Custom,
however, has established certain rules with regard to the treatment
of slaves, which it is thought dishonourable to violate. Thus
the domestic slaves, or such as are born in a man’s own house,
are treated with more lenity than those which are purchased with money.
The authority of the master over the domestic slave, as I have elsewhere
observed, extends only to reasonable correction; for the master cannot
sell his domestic, without having first brought him to a public trial
before the chief men of the place. But these restrictions on the
power of the master extend not to the care of prisoners taken in war,
nor to that of slaves purchased with money. All these unfortunate
beings are considered as strangers and foreigners, who have no right
to the protection of the law, and may be treated with severity, or sold
to a stranger, according to the pleasure of their owners. There
are, indeed, regular markets, where slaves of this description are bought
and sold, and the value of a slave, in the eye of an African purchaser,
increases in proportion to his distance from his native kingdom: for
when slaves are only a few days’ journey from the place of their
nativity they frequently effect their escape; but when one or more kingdoms
intervene, escape being more difficult, they are more readily reconciled
to their situation. On this account the unhappy slave is frequently
transferred from one dealer to another, until he has lost all hopes
of returning to his native kingdom. The slaves which are purchased
by the Europeans on the coast are chiefly of this description.
A few of them are collected in the petty wars, hereafter to be described,
which take place near the coast, but by far the greater number are brought
down in large caravans from the inland countries, of which many are
unknown, even by name, to the Europeans. The slaves which are
thus brought from the interior may be divided into two distinct classes
- first, such as were slaves from their birth, having been born of enslaved
mothers; secondly, such as were born free, but who afterwards, by whatever
means, became slaves. Those of the first description are by far
the most numerous, for prisoners taken in war (at least such as are
taken in open and declared war, when one kingdom avows hostilities against
another) are generally of this description. The comparatively
small proportion of free people to the enslaved throughout Africa has
already been noticed: and it must be observed that men of free condition
have many advantages over the slaves, even in war time. They are
in general better armed, and well mounted, and can either fight or escape
with some hopes of success; but the slaves, who have only their spears
and bows, and of whom great numbers are loaded with baggage, become
an easy prey. Thus when Mansong, king of Bambarra, made war upon
Kaarta (as I have related in a former chapter), he took in one day nine
hundred prisoners, of which number not more than seventy were freemen.
This account I received from Daman Jumma, who had thirty slaves at Kemmoo,
all of whom were made prisoners by Mansong. Again, when a freeman
is taken prisoner his friends will sometimes ransom him by giving two
slaves in exchange; but when a slave is taken, he has no hopes of such
redemption. To these disadvantages, it is to be added that the
slatees, who purchase slaves in the interior countries and carry them
down to the coast for sale, constantly prefer such as have been in that
condition of life from their infancy, well knowing that these have been
accustomed to hunger and fatigue, and are better able to sustain the
hardships of a long and painful journey than freemen; and on their reaching
the coast, if no opportunity offers of selling them to advantage, they
can easily be made to maintain themselves by their labour; neither are
they so apt to attempt making their escape as those who have once tasted
the blessings of freedom.
Slaves of the second description generally become such by one or other
of the following causes:- 1, captivity; 2, famine; 3, insolvency; 4,
crimes. A freeman may, by the established customs of Africa, become
a slave by being taken in war. War is of all others the most productive
source, and was probably the origin, of slavery; for when one nation
had taken from another a greater number of captives than could be exchanged
on equal terms, it is natural to suppose that the conquerors, finding
it inconvenient to maintain their prisoners, would compel them to labour
- at first, perhaps, only for their own support, but afterwards to support
their masters. Be this as it may, it is a known fact that prisoners
of war in Africa are the slaves of the conquerors; and when the weak
or unsuccessful warrior begs for mercy beneath the uplifted spear of
his opponent, he gives up at the same time his claim to liberty, and
purchases his life at the expense of his freedom.
In a country divided into a thousand petty states, mostly independent
and jealous of each other, where every freeman is accustomed to arms
and fond of military achievements, where the youth, who has practised
the bow and spear from his infancy, longs for nothing so much as an
opportunity to display his valour, it is natural to imagine that wars
frequently originate from very frivolous provocation. When one
nation is more powerful than another, pretext is seldom wanting for
commencing hostilities. Thus the war between Kajaaga and Kasson
was occasioned by the detention of a fugitive slave; that between Bambarra
and Kaarta by the loss of a few cattle. Other cases of the same
nature perpetually occur in which the folly or mad ambition of their
princes and the zeal of their religious enthusiasts give full employment
to the scythe of desolation.
The wars of Africa are of two kinds, which are distinguished by different
appellations; that species which bears the greatest resemblance to our
European contests is denominated killi, a word signifying “to
call out,” because such wars are openly avowed and previously
declared. Wars of this description in Africa commonly terminate,
however, in the course of a single campaign. A battle is fought
- the vanquished seldom think of rallying again - the whole inhabitants
become panic-struck, and the conquerors have only to bind the slaves
and carry off their plunder and their victims. Such of the prisoners
as, through age or infirmity, are unable to endure fatigue, or are found
unfit for sale, are considered as useless, and, I have no doubt, are
frequently put to death. The same fate commonly awaits a chief
or any other person who has taken a very distinguished part in the war.
And here it may be observed that, notwithstanding this exterminating
system, it is surprising to behold how soon an African town is rebuilt
and repeopled. The circumstance arises probably from this: that
their pitched battles are few - the weakest know their own situation,
and seek safety in flight. When their country has been desolated,
and their ruined towns and villages deserted by the enemy, such of the
inhabitants as have escaped the sword and the chain generally
return, though with cautious steps, to the place of their nativity -
for it seems to be the universal wish of mankind to spend the evening
of their days where they passed their infancy. The poor negro
feels this desire in its full force. To him no water is sweet
but what is drawn from his own well, and no tree has so cool and pleasant
a shade as the tabba tree {8}
of his native village. When war compels him to abandon the delightful
spot in which he first drew his breath, and seek for safety in some
other kingdom, his time is spent in talking about the country of his
ancestors; and no sooner is peace restored than he turns his back upon
the land of strangers, rebuilds with haste his fallen walls, and exults
to see the smoke ascend from his native village.
The other species of African warfare is distinguished by the appellation
of tegria (plundering, or stealing). It arises from a sort
of hereditary feud which the inhabitants of one nation or district bear
towards another. No immediate cause of hostility is assigned,
or notice of attack given, but the inhabitants of each watch every opportunity
to plunder and distress the objects of their animosity by predatory
excursions. These are very common, particularly about the beginning
of the dry season, when the labour of the harvest is over and provisions
are plentiful. Schemes of vengeance are then meditated.
The chief man surveys the number and activity of his vassals as they
brandish their spears at festivals, and, elated with his own importance,
turns his whole thoughts towards revenging some depredation or insult
which either he or his ancestors may have received from a neighbouring
state.
Wars of this description are generally conducted with great secrecy.
A few resolute individuals, headed by some person of enterprise and
courage, march quietly through the woods, surprise in the night some
unprotected village, and carry off the inhabitants and their effects
before their neighbours can come to their assistance. One morning
during my stay at Kamalia we were all much alarmed by a party of this
kind. The king of Fooladoo’s son, with five hundred horsemen,
passed secretly through the woods a little to the southward of Kamalia,
and on the morning following plundered three towns belonging to Madigai,
a powerful chief in Jallonkadoo.
The success of this expedition encouraged the governor of Bangassi,
a town in Fooladoo, to make a second inroad upon another part of the
same country. Having assembled about two hundred of his people,
he passed the river Kokoro in the night, and carried off a great number
of prisoners. Several of the inhabitants who had escaped these
attacks were afterwards seized by the Mandingoes as they wandered about
in the woods or concealed themselves in the glens and strong places
of the mountains.
These plundering excursions always produced speedy retaliation: and
when large parties cannot be collected for this purpose, a few friends
will combine together and advance into the enemy’s country, with
a view to plunder or carry off the inhabitants. A single individual
has been known to take his bow and quiver and proceed in like manner.
Such an attempt is doubtless in him an act of rashness; but when it
is considered that in one of these predatory wars he has probably been
deprived of his child or his nearest relation, his situation will rather
call for pity than censure. The poor sufferer, urged on by the
feelings of domestic or paternal attachment and the ardour of revenge,
conceals himself among the bushes until some young or unarmed person
passes by. He then, tiger-like, springs upon his prey, drags his
victim into the thicket, and in the night carries him off as a slave.
When a negro has, by means like these, once fallen into the hands of
his enemies, he is either retained as the slave of his conqueror, or
bartered into a distant kingdom; for an African, when he has once subdued
his enemy, will seldom give him an opportunity of lifting up his hand
against him at a future period. A conqueror commonly disposes
of his captives according to the rank which they held in their native
kingdom. Such of the domestic slaves as appear to be of a mild
disposition, and particularly the young women, are retained as his own
slaves. Others that display marks of discontent are disposed of
in a distant country; and such of the freemen or slaves as have taken
an active part in the war are either sold to the slatees or put to death.
War, therefore, is certainly the most general and most productive source
of slavery, and the desolations of war often (but not always) produce
the second cause of slavery, famine; in which case a freeman
becomes a slave to avoid a greater calamity.
Perhaps, by a philosophic and reflecting mind, death itself would scarcely
be considered as a greater calamity than slavery; but the poor negro,
when fainting with hunger, thinks like Esau of old, “Behold, I
am at the point to die, and what profit shall this birthright do to
me?” There are many instances of freemen voluntarily surrendering
up their liberty to save their lives. During a great scarcity,
which lasted for three years, in the countries of the Gambia, great
numbers of people became slaves in this manner. Dr. Laidley assured
me that at that time many freemen came and begged, with great earnestness,
to be put upon his slave-chain, to save them from perishing
of hunger. Large families are very often exposed to absolute want;
and as the parents have almost unlimited authority over their children,
it frequently happens, in all parts of Africa, that some of the latter
are sold to purchase provisions for the rest of the family. When
I was at Jarra, Daman Jumma pointed out to me three young slaves whom
he had purchased in this manner. I have already related another
instance which I saw at Wonda; and I was informed that in Fooladoo,
at that time, it was a very common practice.
The third cause of slavery is insolvency. Of all the offences
(if insolvency may be so called) to which the laws of Africa have affixed
the punishment of slavery, this is the most common. A negro trader
commonly contracts debts on some mercantile speculation, either from
his neighbours, to purchase such articles as will sell to advantage
in a distant market, or from the European traders on the coast - payment
to be made in a given time. In both cases the situation of the
adventurer is exactly the same. If he succeeds, he may secure
an independency: if he is unsuccessful, his person and services are
at the disposal of another; for in Africa, not only the effects of the
insolvent, but even the insolvent himself, is sold to satisfy the lawful
demands of his creditors. {9}
The fourth cause above enumerated is, the commission of crimes on
which the laws of the country affix slavery as a punishment.
In Africa the only offences of this class are murder, adultery, and
witchcraft, and I am happy to say that they did not appear to me to
be common. In cases of murder, I was informed that the nearest
relation of the deceased had it in his power, after conviction, either
to kill the offender with his own hand or sell him into slavery.
When adultery occurs, it is generally left to the option of the person
injured either to sell the culprit or accept such a ransom for him as
he may think equivalent to the injury he has sustained. By witchcraft
is meant pretended magic, by which the lives or healths of persons are
affected; in other words, it is the administering of poison. No
trial for this offence, however, came under my observation while I was
in Africa, and I therefore suppose that the crime and its punishment
occur but very seldom.
When a freeman has become a slave by any one of the causes before mentioned,
he generally continues so for life, and his children (if they are born
of an enslaved mother) are brought up in the same state of servitude.
There are, however, a few instances of slaves obtaining their freedom,
and sometimes even with the consent of their masters, as by performing
some singular piece of service, or by going to battle and bringing home
two slaves as a ransom; but the common way of regaining freedom is by
escape, and when slaves have once set their minds on running away they
often succeed. Some of them will wait for years before an opportunity
presents itself, and during that period show no signs of discontent.
In general, it may be remarked that slaves who come from a hilly country
and have been much accustomed to hunting and travel, are more apt to
attempt to make their escape than such as are born in a flat country
and have been employed in cultivating the land.
Such are the general outlines of that system of slavery which prevails
in Africa, and it is evident, from its nature and extent, that it is
a system of no modern date. It probably had its origin in the
remote ages of antiquity, before the Mohammedans explored a path across
the desert. How far it is maintained and supported by the slave
traffic which for two hundred years the nations of Europe have carried
on with the natives of the coast, it is neither within my province nor
in my power to explain. If my sentiments should be required concerning
the effect which a discontinuance of that commerce would produce on
the manners of the natives, I should have no hesitation in observing
that, in the present unenlightened state of their minds, my opinion
is, the effect would neither be so extensive nor beneficial as many
wise and worthy persons fondly expect.
CHAPTER XXIII - GOLD AND IVORY
Those valuable commodities, gold and ivory (the next objects of our
inquiry), have probably been found in Africa from the first ages of
the world. They are reckoned among its most important productions
in the earliest records of its history.
It has been observed that gold is seldom or never discovered except
in mountainous and barren countries - nature, it is said,
thus making amends in one way for her penuriousness in the other.
This, however, is not wholly true. Gold is found in considerable
quantities throughout every part of Manding, a country which is indeed
hilly, but cannot properly be called mountainous, much less barren.
It is also found in great plenty in Jallonkadoo (particularly about
Boori), another hilly, but by no means an unfertile, country.
It is remarkable that in the place last mentioned (Boori), which is
situated about four days’ journey to the south-west of Kamalia,
the salt market is often supplied at the same time with rock-salt from
the Great Desert and sea-salt from the Rio Grande; the price of each,
at this distance from its source, being nearly the same. And the
dealers in each, whether Moors from the north or negroes from the west,
are invited thither by the same motives - that of bartering their salt
for gold.
The gold of Manding, so far as I could learn, is never found in any
matrix or vein, but always in small grains nearly in a pure state, from
the size of a pin’s head to that of a pea, scattered through a
large body of sand or clay, and in this state it is called by the Mandingoes
sanoo munko (gold powder). It is, however, extremely probable,
by what I could learn of the situation of the ground, that most of it
has originally been washed down by repeated torrents from the neighbouring
hills. The manner in which it is collected is nearly as follows:-
About the beginning of December, when the harvest is over and the streams
and torrents have greatly subsided, the mansa or chief of the town appoints
a day to begin sanoo koo (gold-washing), and the women are sure
to have themselves in readiness by the time appointed. A hoe or
spade for digging up the sand, two or three calabashes for washing it
in, and a few quills for containing the gold dust, are all the implements
necessary for the purpose. On the morning of their departure a
bullock is killed for the first day’s entertainment, and a number
of prayers and charms are used to insure success, for a failure on that
day is thought a bad omen.
The mansa of Kamalia, with fourteen of his people, were, I remember,
so much disappointed in their first day’s washing that very few
of them had resolution to persevere, and the few that did had but very
indifferent success: which indeed is not much to be wondered at, for
instead of opening some untried place they continued to dig and wash
in the same spot where they had dug and washed for years, and where,
of course, but few large grains could be left.
The washing of the sands of the streams is by far the easiest way of
obtaining the gold dust; but in most places the sands have been so narrowly
searched before, that unless the stream takes some new course the gold
is found but in small quantities. While some of the party are
busied in washing the sands, others employ themselves farther up the
torrent, where the rapidity of the stream has carried away all the clay,
sand, etc., and left nothing but small pebbles. The search among
these is a very troublesome task. I have seen women who have had
the skin worn off the tops of their fingers in this employment.
Sometimes, however, they are rewarded by finding pieces of gold, which
they call sanoo birro (gold stones), that amply repay them for
their trouble. A woman and her daughter, inhabitants of Kamalia,
found in one day two pieces of this kind; one of five drachms and the
other of three drachms weight. But the most certain and profitable
mode of washing is practised in the height of the dry season, by digging
a deep pit, like a draw-well, near some hill which has previously been
discovered to contain gold. The pit is dug with small spades or
corn-hoes, and the earth is drawn up in large calabashes. As the
negroes dig through the different strata of clay or sand, a calabash
or two of each is washed by way of experiment; and in this manner the
labourers proceed, until they come to a stratum containing gold, or
until they are obstructed by rocks, or inundated by water. In
general, when they come to a stratum of fine reddish sand, with small
black specks therein, they find gold in some proportion or other, and
send up large calabashes full of the sand for the women to wash; for
though the pit is dug by the men, the gold is always washed by the women,
who are accustomed from their infancy to a similar operation in separating
the husks of corn from the meal.
As I never descended into any one of these pits, I cannot say in what
manner they are worked underground. Indeed, the situation in which
I was placed made it necessary for me to be cautious not to incur the
suspicion of the natives by examining too far into the riches of their
country; but the manner of separating the gold from the sand is very
simple, and is frequently performed by the women in the middle of the
town; for when the searchers return, from the valleys in the evening,
they commonly bring with them each a calabash or two of sand, to be
washed by such of the females as remain at home. The operation
is simply as follows:-
A portion of sand or clay (for the gold is sometimes found in a brown-coloured
clay) is put into a large calabash and mixed with a sufficient quantity
of water. The woman whose office it is, then shakes the calabash
in such a manner as to mix the sand and water together, and give the
whole a rotatory motion - at first gently, but afterwards more quickly,
until a small portion of sand and water, at every revolution, flies
over the brim of the calabash. The sand thus separated is only
the coarsest particles mixed with a little muddy water. After
the operation has been continued for some time, the sand is allowed
to subside, and the water poured off; a portion of coarse sand, which
is now uppermost in the calabash, is removed by the hand, and, fresh
water being added, the operation is repeated until the water comes off
almost pure. The woman now takes a second calabash, and shakes
the sand and water gently from the one to the other, reserving that
portion of sand which is next the bottom of the calabash, and which
is most likely to contain the gold. This small quantity is mixed
with some pure water, and, being moved about in the calabash, is carefully
examined. If a few particles of gold are picked out, the contents
of the other calabash are examined in the same manner, but in general
the party is well contented if she can obtain three or four grains from
the contents of both calabashes. Some women, however, by long
practice, become so well acquainted with the nature of the sand, and
the mode of washing it, that they will collect gold where others cannot
find a single particle. The gold dust is kept in quills stopped
up with cotton; and the washers are fond of displaying a number of these
quills in their hair. Generally speaking, if a person uses common
diligence in a proper soil, it is supposed that as much gold may be
collected by him in the course of the dry season as is equal to the
value of two slaves.
Thus simple is the process by which the negroes obtain gold in Manding;
and it is evident from this account that the country contains a considerable
portion of this precious metal, for many of the smaller particles must
necessarily escape the observation of the naked eye; and as the natives
generally search the sands of streams at a considerable distance from
the hills, and consequently far removed from the mines where the gold
was originally produced, the labourers are sometimes but ill-paid for
their trouble. Minute particles only of this heavy metal can be
carried by the current to any considerable distance; the larger must
remain deposited near the original source from whence they came.
Were the gold-bearing streams to be traced to their fountains, and the
hills from whence they spring properly examined, the sand in which the
gold is there deposited would no doubt be found to contain particles
of a much larger size; and even the small grains might be collected
to considerable advantage by the use of quicksilver and other improvements,
with which the natives are at present unacquainted.
Part of this gold is converted into ornaments for the women, but in
general these ornaments are more to be admired for their weight than
their workmanship. They are massy and inconvenient, particularly
the earrings, which are commonly so heavy as to pull down and lacerate
the lobe of the ear; to avoid which, they are supported by a thong of
red leather, which passes over the crown of the head from one ear to
the other. The necklace displays greater fancy, and the proper
arrangement of the different beads and plates of gold is the great criterion
of taste and elegance. When a lady of consequence is in full dress,
her gold ornaments may be worth altogether from fifty to eighty pounds
sterling.
A small quantity of gold is likewise employed by the slatees in defraying
the expenses of their journeys to and from the coast, but by far the
greater proportion is annually carried away by the Moors in exchange
for salt and other merchandise. During my stay at Kamalia, the
gold collected by the different traders at that place for salt alone
was nearly equal to one hundred and ninety-eight pounds sterling; and
as Kamalia is but a small town, and not much resorted to by the trading
Moors, this quantity must have borne a very small proportion to the
gold collected at Kancaba, Kankaree, and some other large towns.
The value of salt in this part of Africa is very great. One slab,
about two feet and a half in length, fourteen inches in breadth, and
two inches in thickness, will sometimes sell for about two pounds ten
shillings sterling; and from one pound fifteen shillings to two pounds
may be considered as the common price. Four of these slabs are
considered as a load for an ass, and six for a bullock. The value
of European merchandise in Manding varies very much according to the
supply from the coast, or the dread of war in the country; but the return
for such articles is commonly made in slaves. The price of a prime
slave, when I was at Kamalia, was from twelve to nine minkallies, and
European commodities had then nearly the following value:-
18 gun-flints,
48 leaves of tobacco, } one
20 charges of gunpowder, } minkalli.
A cutlass,
}
A musket, from three to four minkallies.
The produce of the country and the different necessaries of life, when
exchanged for gold, sold as follows:-
Common provisions for one day, the weight of one teeleekissi (a
black bean, six of which make the weight of one minkalli); a chicken,
one teeleekissi; a sheep, three teeleekissi; a bullock, one minkalli;
a horse, from ten to seventeen minkallies.
The negroes weigh the gold in small balances, which they always carry
about them. They make no difference, in point of value, between
gold dust and wrought gold. In bartering one article for another,
the person who receives the gold always weighs it with his own teeleekissi.
These beans are sometimes fraudulently soaked in shea-butter to make
them heavy, and I once saw a pebble ground exactly into the form of
one of them; but such practices are not very common.
Having now related the substance of what occurs to my recollection concerning
the African mode of obtaining gold from the earth, and its value in
barter, I proceed to the next article of which I proposed to treat -
namely, ivory.
Nothing creates a greater surprise among the negroes on the sea-coast
than the eagerness displayed by the European traders to procure elephants’
teeth, it being exceedingly difficult to make them comprehend to what
use it is applied. Although they are shown knives with ivory handles,
combs and toys of the same material, and are convinced that the ivory
thus manufactured was originally parts of a tooth, they are not satisfied.
They suspect that this commodity is more frequently converted in Europe
to purposes of far greater importance, the true nature of which is studiously
concealed from them, lest the price of ivory should be enhanced.
They cannot, they say, easily persuade themselves that ships would be
built and voyages undertaken to procure an article which had no other
value than that of furnishing handles to knives, etc., when pieces of
wood would answer the purpose equally well.
Elephants are very numerous in the interior of Africa, but they appear
to be a distinct species from those found in Asia. Blumenbach,
in his figures of objects of natural history, has given good drawings
of a grinder of each, and the variation is evident. M. Cuvier
also has given in the Magasin Encyclopédique a clear account
of the difference between them. As I never examined the Asiatic
elephant, I have chosen rather to refer to those writers than advance
this as an opinion of my own. It has been said that the African
elephant is of a less docile nature than the Asiatic, and incapable
of being tamed. The negroes certainly do not at present tame them;
but when we consider that the Carthaginians had always tame elephants
in their armies, and actually transported some of them to Italy in the
course of the Punic wars, it seems more likely that they should have
possessed the art of taming their own elephants than have submitted
to the expense of bringing such vast animals from Asia. Perhaps
the barbarous practice of hunting the African elephants for the sake
of their teeth has rendered them more untractable and savage than they
were found to be in former times.
The greater part of the ivory which is sold on the Gambia and Senegal
rivers is brought from the interior country. The lands towards
the coast are too swampy and too much intersected with creeks and rivers
for so bulky an animal as the elephant to travel through without being
discovered; and when once the natives discern the marks of his feet
in the earth, the whole village is up in arms. The thoughts of
feasting on his flesh, making sandals of his hide, and selling the teeth
to the Europeans, inspire every one with courage, and the animal seldom
escapes from his pursuers; but in the plains of Bambarra and Kaarta,
and the extensive wilds of Jallonkadoo, the elephants are very numerous,
and, from the great scarcity of gunpowder in those districts, they are
less annoyed by the natives.
Scattered teeth are frequently picked up in the woods, and travellers
are very diligent in looking for them. It is a common practice
with the elephant to thrust his teeth under the roots of such shrubs
and bushes as grow in the more dry and elevated parts of the country,
where the soil is shallow. These bushes he easily overturns, and
feeds on the roots, which are in general more tender and juicy than
the hard, woody branches or the foliage; but when the teeth are partly
decayed by age, and the roots more firmly fixed, the great exertions
of the animal in this practice frequently cause them to break short.
At Kamalia I saw two teeth, one a very large one, which were found in
the woods, and which were evidently broken off in this manner.
Indeed, it is difficult otherwise to account for such a large proportion
of broken ivory as is daily offered for sale at the different factories,
for when the elephant is killed in hunting, unless he dashes himself
over a precipice, the teeth are always extracted entire.
There are certain seasons of the year when the elephants collect into
large herds, and traverse the country in quest of food or water; and
as all that part of the country to the north of the Niger is destitute
of rivers, whenever the pools in the woods are dried up the elephants
approach towards the banks of that river. Here they continue until
the commencement of the rainy season, in the months of June or July,
and during this time they are much hunted by such of the Bambarrans
as have gunpowder to spare. The elephant-hunters seldom go out
singly - a party of four or five join together, and having each furnished
himself with powder and ball, and a quantity of corn-meal in a leather
bag sufficient for five or six days’ provision, they enter the
most unfrequented parts of the wood, and examine with great care everything
that can lead to the discovery of the elephants. In this pursuit,
notwithstanding the bulk of the animal, very great nicety of observation
is required. The broken branches, the scattered dung of the animal,
and the marks of his feet are carefully inspected; and many of the hunters
have, by long experience and attentive observation, become so expert
in their search that as soon as they observe the foot-marks of an elephant
they will tell almost to a certainty at what time it passed and at what
distance it will be found.
When they discover a herd of elephants, they follow them at a distance,
until they perceive some one stray from the rest and come into such
a situation as to be fired at with advantage. The hunters then
approach with great caution, creeping amongst the long grass, until
they have got near enough to be sure of their aim. They then discharge
all their pieces at once, and throw themselves on their faces among
the grass; the wounded elephant immediately applies his trunk to the
different wounds, but being unable to extract the balls, and seeing
nobody near him, he becomes quite furious and runs about amongst the
bushes until by fatigue and loss of blood he has exhausted himself,
and affords the hunters an opportunity of firing a second time at him,
by which he is generally brought to the ground.
The skin is now taken off, and extended on the ground with pegs to dry;
and such parts of the flesh as are most esteemed are cut up into thin
slices, and dried in the sun, to serve for provisions on some future
occasion. The teeth are struck out with a light hatchet which
the hunters always carry along with them, not only for that purpose,
but also to enable them to cut down such trees as contain honey; for
though they carry with them only five or six days’ provisions,
they will remain in the woods for months if they are successful, and
support themselves upon the flesh of such elephants as they kill and
wild honey.
The ivory thus collected is seldom brought down to the coast by the
hunters themselves. They dispose of it to the itinerant merchants
who come annually from the coast with arms and ammunition to purchase
this valuable commodity. Some of these merchants will collect
ivory in the course of one season sufficient to load four or five asses.
A great quantity of ivory is likewise brought from the interior by the
slave coffles; there are, however, some slatees of the Mohammedan persuasion
who, from motives of religion, will not deal in ivory, nor eat of the
flesh of the elephant, unless it has been killed with a spear.
The quantity of ivory collected in this part of Africa is not so great,
nor are the teeth in general so large, as in the countries nearer the
Line: few of them weigh more than eighty or one hundred pounds, and
upon an average a bar of European merchandise may be reckoned as the
price of a pound of ivory.
I have now, I trust, in this and the preceding chapters explained with
sufficient minuteness the nature and extent of the commercial connection
which at present prevails, and has long subsisted, between the negro
natives of those parts of Africa which I visited and the nations of
Europe; and it appears that slaves, gold, and ivory, together with the
few articles enumerated in the beginning of my work - viz., bees’
wax and honey, hides, gums, and dye-woods - constitute the whole catalogue
of exportable commodities. Other productions, however, have been
incidentally noticed as the growth of Africa, such as grain of different
kinds, tobacco, indigo, cotton-wool and perhaps a few others; but of
all these (which can only be obtained by cultivation and labour) the
natives raise sufficient only for their own immediate expenditure; nor,
under the present system of their laws, manners, trade, and government,
can anything further be expected from them. It cannot, however,
admit of a doubt that all the rich and valuable productions both of
the East and West Indies might easily be naturalised and brought to
the utmost perfection in the tropical parts of this immense continent.
Nothing is wanting to this end but example to enlighten the minds of
the natives, and instruction to enable them to direct their industry
to proper objects. It was not possible for me to behold the wonderful
fertility of the soil, the vast herds of cattle, proper both for labour
and food, and a variety of other circumstances favourable to colonisation
and agriculture - and reflect, withal, on the means which presented
themselves of a vast inland navigation without - lamenting that a country
so abundantly gifted and favoured by nature should remain in its present
savage and neglected state. Much more did I lament that a people
of manners and disposition so gentle and benevolent should either be
left as they now are, immersed in the gross and uncomfortable blindness
of pagan superstition, or permitted to become converts to a system of
bigotry and fanaticism which, without enlightening the mind, often debases
the heart. On this subject many observations might be made, but
the reader will probably think that I have already digressed too largely;
and I now, therefore, return to my situation at Kamalia.
CHAPTER XXIV - MOHAMMEDAN CUSTOMS; ARRIVAL AT KINYTAKOORO
The schoolmaster to whose care I was entrusted during the absence of
Karfa was a man of a mild disposition and gentle manners; his name was
Fankooma, and although he himself adhered strictly to the religion of
Mohammed, he was by no means intolerant in his principles towards others
who differed from him. He spent much of his time in reading, and
teaching appeared to be his pleasure as well as employment. His
school consisted of seventeen boys, most of whom were sons of Kafirs,
and two girls, one of whom was Karfa’s own daughter. The
girls received their instruction in the daytime, but the boys always
had their lessons, by the light of a large fire, before day break and
again late in the evening; for, being considered, during their scholarship,
as the domestic slaves of the master, they were employed in planting
corn, bringing firewood, and in other servile offices through the day.
Exclusive of the Koran, and a book or two of commentaries thereon, the
schoolmaster possessed a variety of manuscripts, which had partly been
purchased from the trading Moors, and partly borrowed from bushreens
in the neighbourhood and copied with great care. Other manuscripts
had been produced to me at different places in the course of my journey;
and on recounting those I had before seen, and those which were now
shown to me, and interrogating the schoolmaster on the subject, I discovered
that the negroes are in possession (among others) of an Arabic version
of the Pentateuch of Moses, which they call Taureta la Moosa.
This is so highly esteemed that it is often sold for the value of one
prime slave. They have likewise a version of the Psalms of David
(Zabora Dawidi); and, lastly, the Book of Isaiah, which they
call Lingeeli la Isa, and it is in very high esteem. I
suspect, indeed, that in all these copies there are interpolations of
some of the peculiar tenets of Mohammed, for I could distinguish in
many passages the name of the Prophet. It is possible, however,
that this circumstance might otherwise have been accounted for if my
knowledge of the Arabic had been more extensive. By means of those
books many of the converted negroes have acquired an acquaintance with
some of the remarkable events recorded in the Old Testament. The
account of our first parents, the death of Abel, the Deluge, the lives
of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the story of Joseph and his brethren,
the history of Moses, David, Solomon, etc; all these have been related
to me, in the Mandingo language, with tolerable exactness by different
people; and my surprise was not greater, on hearing these accounts from
the lips of the negroes, than theirs on finding that I was already acquainted
with them; for although the negroes in general have a very great idea
of the wealth and power of the Europeans, I am afraid that the Mohammedan
converts among them think but very lightly of our superior attainments
in religious knowledge. The white traders in the maritime districts
take no pains to counteract this unhappy prejudice, always performing
their own devotions in secret, and seldom condescending to converse
with the negroes in a friendly and instructive manner. To me,
therefore, it was not so much the subject of wonder as matter of regret
to observe that, while the superstition of Mohammed has in this manner
scattered a few faint beams of learning among these poor people, the
precious light of Christianity is altogether excluded. I could
not but lament that, although the coast of Africa has now been known
and frequented by the Europeans for more than two hundred years, yet
the negroes still remain entire strangers to the doctrines of our holy
religion. We are anxious to draw from obscurity the opinions and
records of antiquity, the beauties of Arabian and Asiatic literature,
etc.; but while our libraries are thus stored with the learning of various
countries, we distribute with a parsimonious hand the blessings of religious
truth to the benighted nations of the earth. The natives of Asia
derive but little advantage in this respect from an intercourse with
us; and even the poor Africans, whom we affect to consider as barbarians,
look upon us, I fear, as little better than a race of formidable but
ignorant heathens. When I produced Richardson’s Arabic Grammar
to some slatees on the Gambia, they were astonished to think that any
European should understand and write the sacred language of their religion.
At first they suspected that it might have been written by some of the
slaves carried from the coast, but on a closer examination they were
satisfied that no bushreen could write such beautiful Arabic, and one
of them offered to give me an ass and sixteen bars of goods if I would
part with the book. Perhaps a short and easy introduction to Christianity,
such as is found in some of the catechisms for children, elegantly printed
in Arabic, and distributed on different parts of the coast, might have
a wonderful effect. The expense would be but trifling; curiosity
would induce many to read it; and the evident superiority which it would
possess over their present manuscripts, both in point of elegance and
cheapness, might at last obtain it a place among the school-books of
Africa.
The reflections which I have thus ventured to submit to my readers on
this important subject naturally suggested themselves to my mind on
perceiving the encouragement which was thus given to learning (such
as it is) in many parts of Africa. I have observed that the pupils
at Kamalia were most of them the children of pagans; their parents,
therefore, could have had no predilection for the doctrines of Mohammed.
Their aim was their children’s improvement; and if a more enlightened
system had presented itself, it would probably have been preferred.
The children, too, wanted not a spirit of emulation, which it is the
aim of the tutor to encourage. When any one of them has read through
the Koran, and performed a certain number of public prayers, a feast
is prepared by the schoolmaster, and the scholar undergoes an examination,
or (in European terms) takes out his degree. I attended
at three different inaugurations of this sort, and heard with pleasure
the distinct and intelligent answers which the scholars frequently gave
to the bushreens, who assembled on those occasions and acted as examiners.
When the bushreens had satisfied themselves respecting the learning
and abilities of the scholar, the last page of the Koran was put into
his hand, and he was desired to read it aloud. After the boy had
finished this lesson, he pressed the paper against his forehead and
pronounced the word Amen, upon which all the bushreens rose,
and, shaking him cordially by the hand, bestowed upon him the title
of bushreen.
When a scholar has undergone this examination, his parents are informed
that he has completed his education, and that it is incumbent on them
to redeem their son by giving to the schoolmaster a slave or the price
of a slave in exchange, which is always done if the parents can afford
to do it; if not, the boy remains the domestic slave of the schoolmaster
until he can, by his own industry, collect goods sufficient to ransom
himself.
About a week after the departure of Karfa three Moors arrived at Kamalia
with a considerable quantity of salt and other merchandise, which they
had obtained on credit from a merchant of Fezzan, who had lately arrived
at Kancaba. Their engagement was to pay him his price when the
goods were sold, which they expected would be in the course of a month.
Being rigid bushreens, they were accommodated with two of Karfa’s
huts, and sold their goods to very great advantage.
On the 24th of January Karfa returned to Kamalia with a number of people
and thirteen prime slaves whom he had purchased. He likewise brought
with him a young girl whom he had married at Kancaba, as his fourth
wife, and had given her parents three prime slaves for her. She
was kindly received at the door of the baloon by Karfa’s other
wives, who conducted their new acquaintance and co-partner into one
of the best huts, which they had caused to be swept and whitewashed
on purpose to receive her.
My clothes were by this time become so very ragged that I was almost
ashamed to appear out of doors, but Karfa, on the day after his arrival,
generously presented me with such a garment and trousers as are commonly
worn in the country.
The slaves which Karfa had brought with him were all of them prisoners
of war; they had been taken by the Bambarra army in the kingdoms of
Wassela and Kaarta, and carried to Sego, where some of them had remained
three years in irons. From Sego they were sent, in company with
a number of other captives, up the Niger in two large canoes, and offered
for sale at Yamina, Bammakoo, and Kancaba; at which places the greater
number of the captives were bartered for gold dust, and the remainder
sent forward to Kankaree.
Eleven of them confessed to me that they had been slaves from their
infancy, but the other two refused to give any account of their former
condition. They were all very inquisitive, but they viewed me
at first with looks of horror, and repeatedly asked if my countrymen
were cannibals. They were very desirous to know what became of
the slaves after they had crossed the salt water. I told them
that they were employed in cultivation the land; but they would not
believe me, and one of them, putting his hand upon the ground, said,
with great simplicity, “Have you really got such ground as this
to set your feet upon?” A deeply-rooted idea that the whites
purchase negroes for the purpose of devouring them, or of selling them
to others that they may be devoured hereafter, naturally makes the slaves
contemplate a journey towards the coast with great terror, insomuch
that the slatees are forced to keep them constantly in irons, and watch
them very closely, to prevent their escape. They are commonly
secured by putting the right leg of one and the left of another into
the same pair of fetters. By supporting the fetters with a string,
they can walk, though very slowly. Every four slaves are likewise
fastened together by the necks with a strong rope of twisted thongs,
and in the night an additional pair of fetters is put on their hands,
and sometimes a light iron chain passed round their necks.
Such of them as evince marks of discontent are secured in a different
manner. A thick billet of wood is cut about three feet long, and,
a smooth notch being made upon one side of it, the ankle of the slave
is bolted to the smooth part by means of a strong iron staple, one prong
of which passes on each side of the ankle. All these fetters and
bolts are made from native iron; in the present case they were put on
by the blacksmith as soon as the slaves arrived from Kancaba, and were
not taken off until the morning on which the coffle departed for Gambia.
In other respects the treatment of the slaves during their stay at Kamalia
was far from being harsh or cruel. They were led out in their
fetters every morning to the shade of the tamarind-tree, where they
were encouraged to play at games of hazard, and sing diverting songs,
to keep up their spirits; for, though some of them sustained the hardships
of their situation with amazing fortitude, the greater part were very
much dejected, and would sit all day in a sort of sullen melancholy,
with their eyes fixed upon the ground. In the evening their irons
were examined, and their hand-fetters put on, after which they were
conducted into two large huts, where they were guarded during the night
by Karfa’s domestic slaves. But, notwithstanding all this,
about a week after their arrival, one of the slaves had the address
to procure a small knife, with which he opened the rings of his fetters,
cut the rope, and made his escape; more of them would probably have
got off had they assisted each other, but the slave no sooner found
himself at liberty than he refused to stop and assist in breaking the
chain which was fastened round the necks of his companions.
As all the slatees and slaves belonging to the coffle were now assembled
either at Kamalia or at some of the neighbouring villages, it might
have been expected that we should set out immediately for Gambia; but
though the day of our departure was frequently fixed, it was always
found expedient to change it. Some of the people had not prepared
their dry provisions; others had gone to visit their relations; or collect
some trifling debts; and, last of all, it was necessary to consult whether
the day would be a lucky one. On account of one of these, or other
such causes, our departure was put off, day after day, until the month
of February was far advanced, after which all the slatees agreed to
remain in their present quarters until the fast moon was over.
And here I may remark that loss of time is an object of no great importance
in the eyes of a negro. If he has anything of consequence to perform,
it is a matter of indifference to him whether he does it to-day or to-morrow,
or a month or two hence; so long as he can spend the present moment
with any degree of comfort, he gives himself very little concern about
the future.
The fast of Ramadan was observed with great strictness by all the bushreens,
but instead of compelling me to follow their example, as the Moors did
on a similar occasion, Karfa frankly told me that I was at liberty to
pursue my own inclination. In order, however, to manifest a respect
for their religious opinions, I voluntarily fasted three days, which
was thought sufficient to screen me from the reproachful epithet of
kafir. During the fast all the slatees belonging to the coffle
assembled every morning in Karfa’s house, where the schoolmaster
read to them some religious lessons from a large folio volume, the author
of which was an Arab of the name of Sheiffa. In the evening such
of the women as had embraced Mohammedanism assembled and said their
prayers publicly at the missura. They were all dressed in white,
and went through the different prostrations prescribed by their religion
with becoming solemnity. Indeed, during the whole fast of Ramadan
the negroes behaved themselves with the greatest meekness and humility,
forming a striking contrast to the savage intolerance and brutal bigotry
which at this period characterise the Moors.
When the fast month was almost at an end, the bushreens assembled at
the missura to watch for the appearance of the new moon, but, the evening
being rather cloudy, they were for some time disappointed, and a number
of them had gone home with a resolution to fast another day, when on
a sudden this delightful object showed her sharp horns from behind a
cloud, and was welcomed with the clapping of hands, beating of drums,
firing of muskets, and other marks of rejoicing. As this moon
is reckoned extremely lucky, Karfa gave orders that all the people belonging
to the coffle should immediately pack up their dry provisions and hold
themselves in readiness; and on the 16th of April the slatees held a
consultation and fixed on the 19th of the same month as the day on which
the coffle should depart from Kamalia. This resolution freed me
from much uneasiness, for our departure had already been so long deferred
that I was apprehensive it might still be put off until the commencement
of the rainy season; and although Karfa behaved towards me with the
greatest kindness, I found my situation very unpleasant. The slatees
were unfriendly to me, and the trading Moors who were at this time at
Kamalia continued to plot mischief against me from the first day of
their arrival. Under these circumstances I reflected that my life
in a great measure depended on the good opinion of an individual who
was daily hearing malicious stories concerning the Europeans, and I
could hardly expect that he would always judge with impartiality between
me and his countrymen. Time had, indeed, reconciled me in some
degree to their mode of life, and a smoky hut or a scanty supper gave
me no great uneasiness; but I became at last wearied out with a constant
state of alarm and anxiety, and felt a painful longing for the manifold
blessings of civilised society.
April 19. - The long-wished-for day of our departure was at length
arrived; and the slatees, having taken the irons from their slaves,
assembled with them at the door of Karfa’s house, where the bundles
were all tied up, and every one had his load assigned him. The
coffle, on its departure from Kamalia, consisted of twenty-seven slaves
for sale, the property of Karfa and four other slatees; but we were
afterwards joined by five at Maraboo and three at Bala - making in all
thirty-five slaves. The freemen were fourteen in number, but most
of them had one or two wives and some domestic slaves; and the schoolmaster,
who was now upon his return for Woradoo, the place of his nativity,
took with him eight of his scholars, so that the number of free people
and domestic slaves amounted to thirty-eight, and the whole amount of
the coffle was seventy-three. Among the freemen were six jillikeas
(singing men), whose musical talents were frequently exerted either
to divert our fatigue or obtain us a welcome from strangers. When
we departed from Kamalia, we were followed for about half a mile by
most of the inhabitants of the town, some of them crying and others
shaking hands with their relations who were now about to leave them;
and when we had gained a piece of rising ground, from which we had a
view of Kamalia, all the people belonging to the coffle were ordered
to sit down in one place with their faces towards the west, and the
townspeople were desired to sit down in another place with their faces
towards Kamalia. In this situation the schoolmaster, with two
of the principal slatees, having taken their places between the two
parties, pronounced a long and solemn prayer, after which they walked
three times round the coffle, making an impression in the ground with
the ends of their spears, and muttering something by way of charm.
When this ceremony was ended, all the people belonging to the coffle
sprang up and, without taking a formal farewell of their friends, set
forwards. As many of the slaves had remained for years in irons,
the sudden exertion of walking quick with heavy loads upon their heads
occasioned spasmodic contractions of their legs; and we had not proceeded
above a mile before it was found necessary to take two of them from
the rope, and allow them to walk more slowly until we reached Maraboo,
a walled village, where some people were waiting to join the coffle.
Here we stopped about two hours, to allow the strangers time to pack
up their provisions, and then continued our route to Bala, which town
we reached about four in the afternoon. The inhabitants of Bala
at this season of the year subsist chiefly on fish, which they take
in great plenty from the streams in the neighbourhood. We remained
here until the afternoon of the next day, the 20th, when we proceeded
to Worumbang, the frontier village of Manding, towards Jallonkadoo.
As we proposed shortly to enter the Jallonka Wilderness, the people
of this village furnished us with great plenty of provisions, and on
the morning of the 21st we entered the woods to the westward of Worumbang.
After having travelled some little way, a consultation was held whether
we should continue our route through the wilderness, or save one day’s
provisions by going to Kinytakooro, a town in Jallonkadoo. After
debating the matter for some time, it was agreed that we should take
the road for Kinytakooro; but as that town was a long day’s journey
distant, it was necessary to take some refreshment. Accordingly
every person opened his provision-bag and brought a handful or two of
meal to the place where Karfa and the slatees were sitting. When
every one had brought his quota, and the whole was properly arranged
in small gourd-shells, the schoolmaster offered up a short prayer, the
substance of which was that God and the holy Prophet might preserve
us from robbers and all bad people, that our provisions might never
fail us, nor our limbs become fatigued. This ceremony being ended,
every one partook of the meal and drank a little water, after which
we set forward (rather running than walking) until we came to the river
Kokoro, a branch of the Senegal, where we halted about ten minutes.
The banks of this river are very high, and from the grass and brushwood
which had been left by the stream it was evident that at this place
the water had risen more than twenty feet perpendicular during the rainy
season. At this time it was only a small stream, such as would
turn a mill, swarming with fish; and on account of the number of crocodiles,
and the danger of being carried past the ford by the force of the stream
in the rainy season, it is called Kokoro (dangerous). From
this place we continued to travel with the greatest expedition, and
in the afternoon crossed two small branches of the Kokoro. About
sunset we came in sight of Kinytakooro, a considerable town, nearly
square, situated in the middle of a large and well-cultivated plain:
before we entered the town, we halted until the people who had fallen
behind came up. During this day’s travel two slaves, a woman
and a girl, belonging to a slates of Bala, were so much fatigued that
they could not keep up with the coffle; they were severely whipped,
and dragged along until about three o’clock in the afternoon,
when they were both affected with vomiting, by which it was discovered
that they had eaten clay. This practice is by no means
uncommon amongst the negroes; but whether it arises from a vitiated
appetite, or from a settled intention to destroy themselves, I cannot
affirm. They were permitted to lie down in the woods, and three
people remained with them until they had rested themselves; but they
did not arrive at the town until past midnight, and were then so much
exhausted that the slatee gave up all thoughts of taking them across
the woods in their present condition, and determined to return with
them to Bala and wait for another opportunity.
As this was the first town beyond the limits of Manding, greater etiquette
than usual was observed. Every person was ordered to keep in his
proper station, and we marched towards the town in a sort of procession
nearly as follows:- In front five or six singing men, all of them belonging
to the coffle; these were followed by the other free people; then came
the slaves, fastened in the usual way by a rope round their necks, four
of them to a rope, and a man with a spear between each four; after them
came the domestic slaves; and in the rear the women of free condition,
wives of the slatees, etc. In this manner we proceeded until we
came within a hundred yards of the gate, when the singing men began
a loud song, well calculated to flatter the vanity of the inhabitants,
by extolling their known hospitality to strangers and their particular
friendship for the Mandingoes. When we entered the town we proceeded
to the bentang, where the people gathered round us to hear our dentegi
(history); this was related publicly by two of the singing men -
they enumerated every little circumstance which had happened to the
coffle, beginning with the events of the present day and relating everything
in a backward series until they reached Kamalia. When this history
was ended, the master of the town gave them a small present, and all
the people of the coffle, both free and enslaved, were invited by some
person or other and accommodated with lodging and provisions for the
night.
CHAPTER XXV - THE JALLONKA WILDERNESS; A WARLIKE TALE
We continued at Kinytakooro until noon of the 22nd of April, when we
removed to a village about seven miles to the westward, the inhabitants
of which, being apprehensive of hostilities from the Foulahs of Fooladoo,
were at this time employed in constructing small temporary huts among
the rocks, on the side of a high hill close to the village. The
situation was almost impregnable, being everywhere surrounded with high
precipices, except on the eastern side, where the natives had left a
pathway sufficient to allow one person at a time to ascend. Upon
the brow of the hill, immediately over this path, I observed several
heaps of large loose stones, which the people told me were intended
to be thrown down upon the Foulahs if they should attempt the hill.
At daybreak on the 23rd we departed from this village and entered the
Jallonka Wilderness. We passed in the course of the morning the
ruins of two small towns which had lately been burnt by the Foulahs.
The fire must have been very intense, for I observed that the walls
of many of the huts were slightly vitrified, and appeared at a distance
as if covered with a red varnish. About ten o’clock we came
to the river Wonda, which is somewhat larger than the river Kokoro;
but the stream was at this the rather muddy, which Karfa assured me
was occasioned by amazing shoals of fish. They were indeed seen
in all directions, and in such abundance that I fancied the water itself
tasted and smelt fishy. As soon as we had crossed the river, Karfa
gave orders that all the people of the coffle should in future keep
close together, and travel in their proper station. The guides
and young men were accordingly placed in the van, the women and slaves
in the centre, and the freemen in the rear. In this order we travelled
with uncommon expedition through a woody but beautiful country, interspersed
with a pleasing variety of hill and dale, and abounding with partridges,
guinea-fowl, and deer, until sunset, when we arrived at a most romantic
stream, called Co-meissang. My arms and neck having been exposed
to the sun during the whole day, and irritated by the rubbing of my
dress in walking, were now very much inflamed and covered with blisters,
and I was happy to embrace the opportunity, while the coffle rested
on the bank of the river, to bathe myself in the stream. This
practice, together with the cool of the evening, much diminished the
inflammation. About three miles to the westward of the Co-meissang
we halted in a thick wood and kindled our fires for the night.
We were all by this time very much fatigued, having, as I judged, travelled
this day thirty miles, but no person was heard to complain. Whilst
supper was preparing, Karfa made one of the slaves break some branches
from the trees for my bed. When we had finished our supper of
kouskous, moistened with some boiling water, and put the slaves in irons,
we all lay down to sleep; but we were frequently disturbed in the night
by the howling of wild beasts, and we found the small brown ants very
troublesome.
April 24. - Before daybreak the bushreens said their morning
prayers, and most of the free people drank a little moening (a
sort of gruel), part of which was likewise given to such of the slaves
as appeared least able to sustain the fatigues of the day. One
of Karfa’s female slaves was very sulky, and when some gruel was
offered to her she refused to drink it. As soon as day dawned
we set out, and travelled the whole morning over a wild and rocky country,
by which my feet were much bruised, and I was sadly apprehensive that
I should not he able to keep up with the coffle during the day; but
I was in a great measure relieved from this anxiety when I observed
that others were more exhausted than myself. In particular, the
woman slave who had refused victuals in the morning began now to lag
behind, and complain dreadfully of pains in her legs. Her load
was taken from her and given to another slave, and she was ordered to
keep in the front of the coffle. About eleven o’clock, as
we were resting by a small rivulet, some of the people discovered a
hive of bees in a hollow tree, and they were proceeding to obtain the
honey when the largest swarm I ever beheld flew out, and, attacking
the people of the coffle, made us fly in all directions. I took
the alarm first, and, I believe, was the only person who escaped with
impunity. When our enemies thought fit to desist from pursuing
us, and every person was employed in picking out the stings he had received,
it was discovered that the poor woman above mentioned, whose name was
Nealee, was not come up; and as many of the slaves in their retreat
had left their brindles behind them, it became necessary for some persons
to return and bring them. In order to do this with safety, fire
was set to the grass a considerable way to the eastward of the hive,
and, the wind driving the fire furiously along, the party pushed through
the smoke and recovered the bundles. They likewise brought with
them poor Nealee, whom they found lying by the rivulet. She was
very much exhausted, and had crept to the stream in hopes to defend
herself from the bees by throwing water over her body; but this proved
ineffectual, for she was stung in the most dreadful manner.
When the slatees had picked out the stings as far as they could, she
was washed with water and then rubbed with bruised leaves; but the wretched
woman obstinately refused to proceed any farther, declaring that she
would rather die than walk another step. As entreaties and threats
were used in vain, the whip was at length applied; and after bearing
patiently a few strokes she started up and walked with tolerable expedition
for four or five hours longer, when she made an attempt to run away
from the coffle, but was so very weak that she fell down in the grass.
Though she was unable to rise, the whip was a second time applied, but
without effect; upon which Karfa desired two of the slatees to place
her upon the ass which carried our dry provisions; but she could not
sit erect, and the ass being very refractory it was found impossible
to carry her forward in that manner. The slatees, however, were
unwilling to abandon her, the day’s journey being nearly ended;
they therefore made a sort of litter of bamboo-canes, upon which she
was placed, and tied on it with slips of bark. This litter was
carried upon the heads of two slaves, one walking before the other,
and they were followed by two others, who relieved them occasionally.
In this manner the woman was carried forward until it was dark, when
we reached a stream of water at the foot of a high hill called Gankaran-Kooro,
and here we stopped for the night, and set about preparing our supper.
As we had only ate one handful of meal since the preceding night, and
travelled all day in a hot sun, many of the slaves who had loads upon
their heads were very much fatigued, and some of them snapped their
fingers, which among the negroes is a sure sign of desperation.
The slatees immediately put them all in irons, and such of them as had
evinced signs of great despondency were kept apart from the rest, and
had their hands tied. In the morning they were found greatly recovered.
April 25. - At daybreak poor Nealee was awakened, but her limbs
were now become so stiff and painful that she could neither walk nor
stand; she was therefore lifted, like a corpse, upon the back of the
ass, and the slatees endeavoured to secure her in that situation by
fastening her hands together under the ass’s neck, and her feet
under the belly, with long slips of bark; but the ass was so very unruly
that no sort of treatment could induce him to proceed with his load,
and as Nealee made no exertion to prevent herself from falling she was
quickly thrown off, and had one of her legs much bruised. Every
attempt to carry her forward being thus found ineffectual, the general
cry of the coffle was Kang-tegi, kang-tegi (“Cut her throat,
cut her throat”) - an operation I did not wish to see performed,
and therefore marched onwards with the foremost of the coffle.
I had not walked above a mile, when one of Karfa’s domestic slaves
came up to me, with poor Nealea’s garment upon the end of his
bow, and exclaimed, Nealee affeeleeta (“Nealee is lost”)!
I asked him whether the slatees had given him the garment as a reward
for cutting her throat. He replied that Karfa and the schoolmaster
would not consent to that measure, but had left her on the road, where
undoubtedly she soon perished, and was probably devoured by wild beasts.
The sad fate of this wretched woman, notwithstanding the outcry before
mentioned, made a strong impression on the mind of the whole coffle,
and the schoolmaster fasted the whole of the ensuing day in consequence
of it. We proceeded in deep silence, and soon afterwards crossed
the river Furkoomah, which was about as large as the river Wonda.
We now travelled with great expedition, every one being apprehensive
he might otherwise meet with the fate of poor Nealee. It was,
however, with great difficulty that I could keep up, although I threw
away my spear and everything that could in the least obstruct me.
About noon we saw a large herd of elephants, but they suffered us to
pass unmolested; and in the evening we halted near a thicket of bamboo,
but found no water, so that we were forced to proceed four miles farther
to a small stream, where we stopped for the night. We had marched
this day, as I judged, about twenty-six miles.
April 26. - This morning two of the schoolmaster’s pupils
complained much of pains in their legs, and one of the slaves walked
lame, the soles of his feet being very much blistered and inflamed;
we proceeded, notwithstanding, and about eleven o’clock began
to ascend a rocky hill called Boki-Kooro, and it was past two in the
afternoon before we reached the level ground on the other side.
This was the most rocky road we had yet encountered, and it hurt our
feet much. In a short time we arrived at a pretty large river,
called Boki, which we forded; it ran smooth and clear over a bed of
whinstone. About a mile to the westward of the river we came to
a road which leads to the north-east towards Gadou, and seeing the marks
of many horses’ feet upon the soft sand, the slatees conjectured
that a party of plunderers had lately rode that way to fall upon some
town of Gadou; and lest they should discover upon their return that
we had passed, and attempt to pursue us by the marks of our feet, the
coffle was ordered to disperse and travel in a loose manner through
the high grass and bushes. A little before it was dark, having
crossed the ridge of hills to the westward of the river Boki, we came
to a well called Cullong Qui (White Sand Well), and here we rested
for the night.
April 27. - We departed from the well early in the morning, and
walked on with the greatest alacrity, in hopes of reaching a town before
night. The road during the forenoon led through extensive thickets
of dry bamboos. About two o’clock we came to a stream called
Nunkolo, where we were each of us regaled with a handful of meal, which,
according to a superstitious custom, was not to be eaten until it was
first moistened with water from this stream. About four o’clock
we reached Sooseeta, a small Jallonka village, situated in the district
of Kullo, which comprehends all that tract of country lying along the
banks of the Black River, or main branch of the Senegal. These
were the first human habitations we had seen since we left the village
to the westward of Kinytakooro, having travelled in the course of the
last five days upwards of one hundred miles. Here, after a great
deal of entreaty, we were provided with huts to sleep in, but the master
of the village plainly told us that he could not give us any provisions,
as there had lately been a great scarcity in this part of the country.
He assured us that, before they had gathered in their present crops,
the whole inhabitants of Kullo had been for twenty-nine days without
tasting corn, during which time they supported themselves entirely upon
the yellow powder which is found in the pods of the nitta, so
called by the natives, a species of mimosa, and upon the seeds of the
bamboo-cane, which, when properly pounded and dressed, taste very much
like rice. As our dry provisions were not yet exhausted, a considerable
quantity of kouskous was dressed for supper, and many of the villagers
were invited to take part of the repast; but they made a very bad return
for this kindness, for in the night they seized upon one of the schoolmaster’s
boys, who had fallen asleep under the bentang tree, and carried him
away. The boy fortunately awoke before he was far from the village,
and, setting up a loud scream, the man who carried him put his hand
upon his mouth and ran with him into the woods; but afterwards understanding
that he belonged to the schoolmaster, whose place of residence is only
three days’ journey distant, he thought, I suppose, that he could
not retain him as a slave without the schoolmaster’s knowledge,
and therefore stripped off the boy’s clothes and permitted him
to return.
April 28. - Early in the morning we departed from Sooseeta, and
about ten o’clock came to an unwalled town, called Manna, the
inhabitants of which were employed in collecting the fruit of the nitta-trees,
which are very numerous in this neighbourhood. The pods are long
and narrow, and contain a few black seeds, enveloped in the fine mealy
powder before mentioned; the meal itself is of a bright yellow colour,
resembling the flour of sulphur, and has a sweet mucilaginous taste.
When eaten by itself it is clammy, but when mixed with milk or water
it constitutes a very pleasant and nourishing article of diet.
The language of the people of Manna is the same that is spoken all over
that extensive and hilly country called Jallonkadoo. Some of the
words have a great affinity to the Mandingo, but the natives themselves
consider it as a distinct language. Their numerals are these
One, Kidding.
Two, Fidding.
Three, Sarra.
Four, Nani.
Five, Soolo.
Six, Seni.
Seven, Soolo ma fidding.
Eight, Soolo ma sarra.
Nine, Soolo ma nani.
Ten, Nuff.
The Jallonkas, like the Mandingoes, are governed by a number of petty
chiefs, who are in a great measure independent of each other.
They have no common sovereign, and the chiefs are seldom upon such terms
of friendship as to assist each other even in war-time. The chief
of Manna, with a number of his people, accompanied us to the banks of
the Bafing, or Black River (a principal branch of the Senegal), which
we crossed upon a bridge of bamboos of a very singular construction.
The river at this place is smooth and deep, and has very little current.
Two tall trees, when tied together by the tops, are sufficiently long
to reach from one side to the other, the roots resting upon the rocks,
and the tops floating in the water. When a few trees have been
placed in this direction, they are covered with dry bamboos, so as to
form a floating bridge, with a sloping gangway at each end, where the
trees rest upon the rocks. This bridge is carried away every year
by the swelling of the river in the rainy season, and is constantly
rebuilt by the inhabitants of Manna, who, on that account, expect a
small tribute from every passenger.
In the afternoon we passed several villages, at none of which we could
procure a lodging, and in the twilight we received information that
two hundred Jallonkas had assembled near a town called Melo, with a
view to plunder the coffle. This induced us to alter our course,
and we travelled with great secrecy until midnight, when we approached
a town called Koba. Before we entered the town the names of all
the people belonging to the coffle were called over, and a freeman and
three slaves were found to be missing. Every person immediately
concluded that the slaves had murdered the freeman and made their escape.
It was therefore agreed that six people should go back as far as the
last village, and endeavour to find his body, or collect some information
concerning the slaves. In the meantime the coffle was ordered
to lie concealed in a cotton-field near a large nitta-tree, and nobody
to speak except in a whisper. It was towards morning before the
six men returned, having heard nothing of the man or the slaves.
As none of us had tasted victuals for the last twenty-four hours, it
was agreed that we should go into Koba and endeavour to procure some
provisions. We accordingly entered the town before it was quite
day, and Karfa purchased from the chief man, for three strings of beads,
a considerable quantity of ground nuts, which we roasted and ate for
breakfast. We were afterwards provided with huts, and rested here
for the day.
About eleven o’clock, to our great joy and surprise, the freeman
and slaves who had parted from the coffle the preceding night entered
the town. One of the slaves, it seems, had hurt his foot, and
the night being very dark they soon lost sight of the coffle.
The freeman, as soon as he found himself alone with the slaves was aware
of his own danger, and insisted on putting them in irons. The
slaves were at first rather unwilling to submit, but when he threatened
to stab them one by one with his spear, they made no farther resistance;
and he remained with them among the bushes until morning, when he let
them out of irons, and came to the town in hopes of hearing which route
the coffle had taken. The information that we received concerning
the Jallonkas who intended to rob the coffle was this day confirmed,
and we were forced to remain here until the afternoon of the 30th, when
Karfa hired a number of people to protect us, and we proceeded to a
village called Tinkingtang. Departing from this village on the
day following, we crossed a high ridge of mountains to the west of the
Black River, and travelled over a rough stony country until sunset,
when we arrived at Lingicotta, a small village in the district of Woradoo.
Here we shook out the last handful of meal from our dry provision-bags,
this being the second day, since we crossed the Black River, that we
had travelled from morning until night without tasting one morsel of
food.
May 2. - We departed from Lingicotta; but the slaves being very
much fatigued, we halted for the night at a village about nine miles
to the westward, and procured some provisions through the interest of
the schoolmaster, who now sent forward a messenger to Malacotta, his
native town, to inform his friends of his arrival in the country, and
to desire them to provide the necessary quantity of victuals to entertain
the coffle for two or three days.
May 3. - We set out for Malacotta, and about noon arrived at
a village near a considerable stream of water which flows to the westward.
Here we determined to stop for the return of the messenger who had been
sent to Malacotta the day before; and as the natives assured me there
were no crocodiles in this stream, I went and bathed myself. Very
few people here can swim, for they came in numbers to dissuade me from
venturing into a pool where they said the water would come over my head.
About two o’clock the messenger returned from Malacotta, and the
schoolmaster’s elder brother, being impatient to see him, came
along with the messenger to meet him at this village. The interview
between the two brothers, who had not seen each other for nine years,
was very natural and affecting. They fell upon each other’s
neck, and it was some time before either of them could speak.
At length, when the schoolmaster had a little recovered himself, he
took his brother by the hand, and turning round, “This is the
man,” said he, pointing to Karfa, “who has been my father
in Manding. I would have pointed him out sooner to you, but my
heart was too full.”
We reached Malacotta in the evening, where we were well received.
This is an unwalled town. The huts for the most part are made
of split cane, twisted into a sort of wicker-work, and plastered over
with mud. Here we remained three days, and were each day presented
with a bullock from the schoolmaster. We were likewise well entertained
by the townspeople, who appear to be very active and industrious.
They make very good soap by boiling ground nuts in water, and then adding
a ley of wood-ashes. They likewise manufacture excellent iron,
which they carry to Bondou to barter for salt. A party of the
townspeople had lately returned from a trading expedition of this kind,
and brought information concerning a war between Almami Abdulkader,
king of Foota-Torra, and Damel, king of the Jaloffs. The events
of this war soon became a favourite subject with the singing men and
the common topic of conversation in all the kingdoms bordering upon
the Senegal and Gambia; and, as the account is somewhat singular, I
shall here abridge it for the reader’s information. The
king of Foota-Torra, inflamed with a zeal for propagating his religion,
had sent an embassy to Damel similar to that which he had sent to Kasson,
as has been previously related. The ambassador on the present
occasion was accompanied by two of the principal bushreens, who carried
each a large knife fixed on the top of a long pole. As soon as
he had procured admission into the presence of Damel, and announced
the pleasure of his Sovereign, he ordered the bushreens to present the
emblems of his mission. The two knives were accordingly laid before
Damel, and the ambassador explained himself as follows:- “With
this knife,” said he, “Abdulkader will condescend to shave
the head of Damel, if Damel will embrace the Mohammedan faith; and with
this other knife Abdulkader will cut the throat of Damel if Damel refuses
to embrace it: take your choice.” Damel coolly told the
ambassador that he had no choice to make; he neither chose to have his
head shaved nor his throat cut; and with this answer the ambassador
was civilly dismissed. Abdulkader took his measures accordingly,
and with a powerful army invaded Damel’s country. The inhabitants
of the towns and villages filled up their wells, destroyed their provisions,
carried off their effects, and abandoned their dwellings as he approached.
By this means he was led on from place to place, until he had advanced
three days’ journey into the country of the Jaloffs. He
had, indeed, met with no opposition, but his army had suffered so much
from the scarcity of water that several of his men had died by the way.
This induced him to direct his march towards a watering-place in the
woods, where his men, having quenched their thirst and being overcome
with fatigue, lay down carelessly to sleep among the bushes. In
this situation they were attacked by Damel before daybreak and completely
routed. Many of them were trampled to death as they lay asleep
by the Jaloff horses; others were killed in attempting to make their
escape; and a still greater number were taken prisoners. Among
the latter was Abdulkader himself. This ambitious, or, rather,
frantic prince, who but a month before had sent the threatening message
to Damel, was now himself led into his presence as a miserable captive.
The behaviour of Damel on this occasion is never mentioned by the singing
men but in terms of the highest approbation; and it was indeed so extraordinary
in an African prince that the reader may find it difficult to give credit
to the recital. When his royal prisoner was brought before him
in irons, and thrown upon the ground, the magnanimous Damel, instead
of setting his foot upon his neck and stabbing him with his spear, according
to custom in such cases, addressed him as follows: - “Abdulkader,
answer me this question. If the chance of war had placed me in
your situation, and you in mine, how would you have treated me?”
“I would have thrust my spear into your heart,” returned
Abdulkader, with great firmness; “and I know that a similar fate
awaits me.” “Not so,” said Damel; “my
spear is indeed red with the blood of your subjects, killed in battle,
and I could now give it a deeper stain by dipping it in your own; but
this would not build up my towns, nor bring to life the thousands who
fell in the woods. I will not, therefore, kill you in cold blood,
but I will retain you as my slave, until I perceive that your presence
in your own kingdom will be no longer dangerous to your neighbours,
and then I will consider of the proper way of disposing of you.”
Abdulkader was accordingly retained, and worked as a slave for three
months; at the end of which period Damel listened to the solicitations
of the inhabitants of Foota-Torra, and restored to them their king.
Strange as this story may appear, I have no doubt of the truth of it.
It was told me at Malacotta by the negroes; it was afterwards related
to me by the Europeans on the Gambia, by some of the French at Goree,
and confirmed by nine slaves who were taken prisoners along with Abdulkader
by the watering-place in the woods and carried in the same ship with
me to the West Indies.
CHAPTER XXVI - MEETING WITH DR. LAIDLEY - RETURN TO THE COAST - VOYAGE
TO ENGLAND
On the 7th of May we departed from Malacotta, and having crossed the
Ba Lee (Honey River), a branch of the Senegal, we arrived in
the evening at a walled town called Bintingala, where we rested two
days. From thence, in one day more, we proceeded to Dindikoo,
a small town situated at the bottom of a high ridge of hills, from which
this district is named Konkodoo (the country of mountains).
These hills are very productive of gold. I was shown a small quantity
of this metal which had been lately collected: the grains were about
the usual size, but much flatter than those of Manding, and were found
in white quartz, which had been broken to pieces by hammers. At
this town I met with a negro whose hair and skin were of a dull white
colour. He was of that sort which are called in the Spanish West
Indies albinos, or white negroes. The skin is cadaverous
and unsightly, and the natives considered this complexion (I believe
truly) as the effect of disease.
May 11. - At daybreak we departed from Dindikoo, and, after a
toilsome day’s travel, arrived in the evening at Satadoo, the
capital of a district of the same name. This town was formerly
of considerable extent, but many families had left it in consequence
of the predatory incursions of the Foulahs of Foota-Jalla, who made
it a practice to come secretly through the woods and carry off people
from the cornfields and even from the wells near the town. In
the afternoon of the 12th we crossed the Falemé River, the same
which I had formerly crossed at Bondou in my journey eastward.
This river, at this season of the year, is easily forded at this place,
the stream being only about two feet deep. The water is very pure,
and flows rapidly over a bed of sand and gravel. We lodged for
the night at a small village called Medina, the sole property of a Mandingo
merchant who, by a long intercourse with Europeans, has been induced
to adopt some of their customs. His victuals were served up in
pewter dishes, and even his houses were built after the fashion of the
English houses on the Gambia.
May 13. - In the morning, as we were preparing to depart, a coffle
of slaves belonging to some Serawoolli traders crossed the river, and
agreed to proceed with us to Baniserile, the capital of Dentila - a
very long day’s journey from this place. We accordingly
set out together, and travelled with great expedition through the woods
until noon, when one of the Serawoolli slaves dropped the load from
his head, for which he was smartly whipped. The load was replaced,
but he had not proceeded above a mile before he let it fall a second
time, for which he received the same punishment. After this he
travelled in great pain until about two o’clock, when we stopped
to breathe a little by a pool of water, the day being remarkably hot.
The poor slave was now so completely exhausted that his master was obliged
to release him from the rope, for he lay motionless on the ground.
A Serawoolli, therefore, undertook to remain with him and endeavour
to bring him to the town during the cool of the night; in the meanwhile
we continued our route, and after a very hard day’s travel, arrived
at Baniserile late in the evening.
One of our slatees was a native of this place, from which he had been
absent three years. This man invited me to go with him to his
house, at the gate of which his friends met him with many expressions
of joy, shaking hands with him, embracing him, and singing and dancing
before him. As soon as he had seated himself upon a mat by the
threshold of his door, a young woman (his intended bride) brought a
little water in a calabash, and, kneeling down before him, desired him
to wash his hands; when he had done this the girl, with a tear of joy
sparkling in her eyes, drank the water - this being considered as the
greatest proof she could possibly give him of her fidelity and attachment.
About eight o’clock the same evening the Serawoolli who had been
left in the woods to take care of the fatigued slave returned and told
us that he was dead; the general opinion, however, was that he himself
had killed him or left him to perish on the road, for the Serawoollies
are said to be infinitely more cruel in their treatment of slaves than
the Mandingoes. We remained at Baniserile two days, in order to
purchase native iron, shea-butter, and some other articles for sale
on the Gambia; and here the slatee who had invited me to his house,
and who possessed three slaves, part of the coffle, having obtained
information that the price on the coast was very low, determined to
separate from us and remain with his slaves where he was until an opportunity
should offer of disposing of them to advantage - giving us to understand
that he should complete his nuptials with the young woman before mentioned
in the meantime.
May 16. - We departed from Baniserile and travelled through thick
woods until noon, when we saw at a distance the town of Julifunda, but
did not approach it, as we proposed to rest for the night at a large
town called Kirwani, which we reached about four o’clock in the
afternoon. This town stands in a valley, and the country for more
than a mile round it is cleared of wood and well cultivated. The
inhabitants appear to be very active and industrious, and seem to have
carried the system of agriculture to some degree of perfection, for
they collect the dung of their cattle into large heaps during the dry
season for the purpose of manuring their land with it at the proper
time. I saw nothing like this in any other part of Africa.
Near the town are several smelting furnaces, from which the natives
obtain very good iron. They afterwards hammer the metal into small
bars, about a foot in length and two inches in breadth, one of which
bars is sufficient to make two Mandingo corn-hoes. On the morning
after our arrival we were visited by a slatee of this place, who informed
Karfa that among some slaves he had lately purchased was a native of
Foota-Jalla, and as that country was at no great distance he could not
safely employ him in the labours of the field, lest he should effect
his escape. The slatee was therefore desirous of exchanging this
slave for one of Karfa’s, and offered some cloth and shea-butter
to induce Karfa to comply with the proposal, which was accepted.
The slatee thereupon sent a boy to order the slave in question to bring
him a few ground-nuts. The poor creature soon afterwards entered
the court in which we were sitting, having no suspicion of what was
negotiating, until the master caused the gate to be shut, and told him
to sit down. The slave now saw his danger, and, perceiving the
gate to be shut upon him, threw down the nuts and jumped over the fence.
He was immediately pursued and overtaken by the slatees, who brought
him back and secured him in irons, after which one of Karfa’s
slaves was released and delivered in exchange. The unfortunate
captive was at first very much dejected, but in the course of a few
days his melancholy gradually subsided, and he became at length as cheerful
as any of his companions.
Departing from Kirwani on the morning of the 20th we entered the Tenda
Wilderness, of two days’ journey. The woods were very thick,
and the country shelved towards the south-west. About ten o’clock
we met a coffle of twenty-six people and seven loaded asses returning
from the Gambia. Most of the men were armed with muskets, and
had broad belts of scarlet cloth over their shoulders and European hats
upon their heads. They informed us that there was very little
demand for slaves on the coast, as no vessel had arrived for some months
past. On hearing this the Serawoollies, who had travelled with
us from the Falemé River, separated themselves and their slaves
from the coffle. They had not, they said, the means of maintaining
their slaves in Gambia until a vessel should arrive, and were unwilling
to sell them to disadvantage; they therefore departed to the northward
for Kajaaga. We continued our route through the wilderness, and
travelled all day through a rugged country covered with extensive thickets
of bamboo. At sunset, to our great joy, we arrived at a pool of
water near a large tabba-tree, whence the place is called Tabbagee,
and here we rested a few hours. The water at this season of the
year is by no means plentiful in these woods, and as the days were insufferably
hot Karfa proposed to travel in the night. Accordingly about eleven
o’clock the slaves were taken out of their irons, and the people
of the coffle received orders to keep close together, as well to prevent
the slaves from attempting to escape as on account of the wild beasts.
We travelled with great alacrity until daybreak, when it was discovered
that a free woman had parted from the coffle in the night; her name
was called until the woods resounded, but, no answer being given, we
conjectured that she had either mistaken the road or that a lion had
seized her unperceived. At length it was agreed that four people
should go back a few miles to a small rivulet, where some of the coffle
had stopped to drink as we passed it in the night, and that the coffle
should wait for their return. The sun was about an hour high before
the people came back with the woman, whom they found lying fast asleep
by the stream. We now resumed our journey, and about eleven o’clock
reached a walled town called Tambacunda, where we were well received.
Here we remained four days on account of a palaver which was held on
the following occasion:- Modi Lemina, one of the slatees belonging to
the coffle, had formerly married a woman of this town, who had borne
him two children; he afterwards went to Manding, and remained there
eight years without sending any account of himself during all that time
to his deserted wife, who, seeing no prospect of his return, at the
end of three years had married another man, to whom she had likewise
borne two children. Lemina now claimed his wife; but the second
husband refused to deliver her up, insisting that by the laws of Africa
when a man has been three years absent from his wife, without giving
her notice of his being alive, the woman is at liberty to marry again.
After all the circumstances had been fully investigated in an assembly
of the chief men, it was determined that the wife should make her choice,
and be at liberty either to return to the first husband, or continue
with the second, as she alone should think proper. Favourable
as this determination was to the lady, she found it a difficult matter
to make up her mind, and requested time for consideration; but I think
I could perceive that first love would carry the day. Lemina
was indeed somewhat older than his rival, but he was also much richer.
What weight this circumstance had in the scale of his wife’s affections
I pretend not to say.
On the morning of the 26th, as we departed from Tambacunda, Karfa observed
to me that there were no shea-trees farther to the westward than this
town. I had collected and brought with me from Manding the leaves
and flowers of this tree, but they were so greatly bruised on the road
that I thought it best to gather another specimen at this place.
The appearance of the fruit evidently places the shea-tree in the natural
order of Sapotæ, and it has some resemblance to the mudhuca
tree described by Lieutenant Charles Hamilton in the “Asiatic
Researches,” vol. i., p. 300.
About one o’clock on the morning of the 26th we reached Sibikillin,
a walled village; but the inhabitants having the character of inhospitality
towards strangers, and of being much addicted to theft, we did not think
proper to enter the gate. We rested a short time under a tree,
and then continued our route until it was dark, when we halted for the
night by a small stream running towards the Gambia. Next day the
road led over a wild and rocky country, everywhere rising into hills
and abounding with monkeys and wild beasts. In the rivulets among
the hills we found great plenty of fish. This was a very hard
day’s journey; and it was not until sunset that we reached the
village of Koomboo, near to which are the ruins of a large town formerly
destroyed by war. The inhabitants of Koomboo, like those of Sibikillin,
have so bad a reputation that strangers seldom lodge in the village;
we accordingly rested for the night in the fields, where we erected
temporary huts for our protection, there being great appearance of rain.
May 28. - We departed from Koomboo, and slept at a Foulah town,
about seven miles to the westward; from which, on the day following,
having crossed a considerable branch of the Gambia, called Neola Koba,
we reached a well-inhabited part of the country. Here are several
towns within sight of each other, collectively called Tenda, but each
is distinguished also by its particular name. We lodged at one
of them, called Koba Tenda, where we remained the day following, in
order to procure provisions for our support in crossing the Simbani
woods. On the 30th we reached Jallacotta, a considerable town,
but much infested by Foulah banditti, who come through the woods from
Bondou and steal everything they can lay their hands on. A few
days before our arrival they had stolen twenty head of cattle, and on
the day following made a second attempt, but were beaten off and one
of them was taken prisoner. Here one of the slaves belonging to
the coffle, who had travelled with great difficulty for the last three
days, was found unable to proceed any farther: his master (a singing
man) proposed therefore to exchange him for a young slave girl belonging
to one of the townspeople. The poor girl was ignorant of her fate
until the bundles were all tied up in the morning, and the coffle ready
to depart, when, coming with some other young women to see the coffle
set out, her master took her by the hand, and delivered her to the singing
man. Never was a face of serenity more suddenly changed into one
of the deepest distress; the terror she manifested on having the load
put upon her head and the rope fastened round her neck, and the sorrow
with which she bade adieu to her companions, were truly affecting.
About nine o’clock we crossed a large plain covered with ciboa-trees
(a species of palm), and came to the river Nerico, a branch of the Gambia.
This was but a small river at this time, but in the rainy season it
is often dangerous to travellers. As soon as we had crossed this
river, the singing men began to vociferate a particular song, expressive
of their joy at having got safe into the west country, or, as they expressed
it, the land of the setting sun. The country was found
to be very level, and the soil a mixture of clay and sand. In
the afternoon it rained hard, and we had recourse to the common negro
umbrella, a large ciboa-leaf, which, being placed upon the head, completely
defends the whole body from the rain. We lodged for the night
under the shade of a large tabba-tree, near the ruins of a village.
On the morning following we crossed a stream called Noulico, and about
two o’clock, to my infinite joy, I saw myself once more on the
banks of the Gambia, which at this place, being deep and smooth, is
navigable; but the people told me that a little lower down the stream
is so shallow that the coffles frequently cross it on foot.
June 2. - We departed from Seesukunda and passed a number of
villages, at none of which was the coffle permitted to stop, although
we were all very much fatigued. It was four o’clock in the
afternoon before we reached Baraconda, where we rested one day.
Departing from Baraconda on the morning of the 4th, we reached in a
few hours Medina, the capital of the king of Woolli’s dominions,
from whom the reader may recollect I received an hospitable reception
in the beginning of December, 1795, in my journey eastward. I
immediately inquired concerning the health of my good old benefactor,
and learned with great concern that he was dangerously ill. As
Karfa would not allow the coffle to stop, I could not present my respects
to the king in person, but I sent him word by the officer to whom we
paid customs that his prayers for my safety had not been unavailing.
We continued our route until sunset, when we lodged at a small village
a little to the westward of Kootacunda, and on the day following arrived
at Jindey, where, eighteen months before, I had parted from my friend
Dr. Laidley - an interval during which I had not beheld the face of
a Christian, nor once heard the delightful sound of my native language.
Being now arrived within a short distance of Pisania, from whence my
journey originally commenced, and learning that my friend Karfa was
not likely to meet with an immediate opportunity of selling his slaves
on the Gambia, it occurred to me to suggest to him that he would find
it for his interest to leave them at Jindey until a market should offer.
Karfa agreed with me in this opinion, and hired from the chief man of
the town huts for their accommodation, and a piece of land on which
to employ them in raising corn and other provisions for their maintenance.
With regard to himself, he declared that he would not quit me until
my departure from Africa. We set out accordingly - Karfa, myself,
and one of the Foulahs belonging to the coffle - early on the morning
of the 9th; but although I was now approaching the end of my tedious
and toilsome journey, and expected in another day to meet with countrymen
and friends, I could not part for the last time with my unfortunate
fellow-travellers - doomed, as I knew most of them to be, to a life
of captivity and slavery in a foreign land - without great emotion.
During a wearisome peregrination of more than five hundred British miles,
exposed to the burning rays of a tropical sun, these poor slaves, amidst
their own infinitely greater sufferings, would commiserate mine, and,
frequently of their own accord, bring water to quench my thirst, and
at night collect branches and leaves to prepare me a bed in the wilderness.
We parted with reciprocal expressions of regret and benediction.
My good wishes and prayers were all I could bestow upon them, and it
afforded me some consolation to be told that they were sensible I had
no more to give.
My anxiety to get forward admitting of no delay on the road, we reached
Tendacunda in the evening, and were hospitably received at the house
of an aged black female called Seniora Camilla, a person who resided
many years at the English factory and spoke our language. I was
known to her before I had left the Gambia at the outset of my journey,
but my dress and figure were now so different from the usual appearance
of a European that she was very excusable in mistaking me for a Moor.
When I told her my name and country she surveyed me with great astonishment,
and seemed unwilling to give credit to the testimony of her senses.
She assured me that none of the traders on the Gambia ever expected
to see me again, having been informed long ago that the Moors of Ludamar
had murdered me, as they had murdered Major Houghton. I inquired
for my two attendants, Johnson and Demba, and learnt with great sorrow
that neither of them was returned. Karfa, who had never before
heard people converse in English, listened to us with great attention.
Everything he saw seemed wonderful. The furniture of the house,
the chairs, &c., and particularly beds with curtains, were objects
of his great admiration, and he asked me a thousand questions concerning
the utility and necessity of different articles, to some of which I
found it difficult to give satisfactory answers.
On the morning of the 10th Mr. Robert Ainsley, having learned that I
was at Tendacunda, came to meet me, and politely offered me the use
of his horse. He informed me that Dr. Laidley had removed all
his property to a place called Kayee, a little farther down the river,
and that he was then gone to Doomasansa with his vessel to purchase
rice, but would return in a day or two. He therefore invited me
to stay with him at Pisania until the doctor’s return. I
accepted the invitation, and being accompanied by my friend Karfa, reached
Pisania about ten o’clock. Mr. Ainsley’s schooner
was lying at anchor before the place. This was the most surprising
object which Karfa had yet seen. He could not easily comprehend
the use of the masts, sails, and rigging; nor did he conceive that it
was possible, by any sort of contrivance, to make so large a body move
forwards by the common force of the wind. The manner of fastening
together the different planks which composed the vessel, and filling
up the seams so as to exclude the water, was perfectly new to him; and
I found that the schooner, with her cable and anchor, kept Karfa in
deep meditation the greater part of the day.
About noon on the 12th Dr. Laidley returned from Doomasansa and received
me with great joy and satisfaction, as one risen from the dead.
Finding that the wearing apparel which I had left under his care was
not sold or sent to England, I lost no time in resuming the English
dress and disrobing my chin of its venerable encumbrance. Karfa
surveyed me in my British apparel with great delight, but regretted
exceedingly that I had taken off my beard, the loss of which, he said,
had converted me from a man into a boy. Dr. Laidley readily undertook
to discharge all the pecuniary engagements which I had entered into
since my departure from the Gambia, and took my draft upon the association
for the amount. My agreement with Karfa (as I have already related)
was to pay him the value of one prime slave, for which I had given him
my bill upon Dr. Laidley before we departed from Kamalia; for in case
of my death on the road I was unwilling that my benefactor should be
a loser. But this good creature had continued to manifest towards
me so much kindness that I thought I made him but an inadequate recompense
when I told him that he was now to receive double the sum I had originally
promised; and Dr. Laidley assured him that he was ready to deliver the
goods to that amount whenever he thought proper to send for them.
Karfa was overpowered by this unexpected token of my gratitude, and
still more so when he heard that I intended to send a handsome present
to the good old schoolmaster, Fankooma, at Malacotta. He promised
to carry up the goods along with his own; and Dr. Laidley assured him
that he would exert himself in assisting him to dispose of his slaves
to the best advantage the moment a slave vessel should arrive.
These and other instances of attention and kindness shown him by Dr.
Laidley were not lost upon Karfa. He would often say to me, “My
journey has indeed been prosperous!” But observing the improved
state of our manufactures and our manifest superiority in the arts of
civilised life, he would sometimes appear pensive, and exclaim, with
an involuntary sigh, Fato fing inta feng (“Black men are
nothing”)! At other times he would ask me, with great seriousness,
what could possibly have induced me, who was no trader, to think of
exploring so miserable a country as Africa. He meant by this to
signify that, after what I must have witnessed in my own country, nothing
in Africa could in his opinion deserve a moment’s attention.
I have preserved these little traits of character in this worthy negro,
not only from regard to the man, but also because they appear to me
to demonstrate that he possessed a mind above his condition.
And to such of my readers as love to contemplate human nature in all
its varieties, and to trace its progress from rudeness to refinement,
I hope the account I have given of this poor African will not be unacceptable.
No European vessel had arrived at Gambia for many months previous to
my return from the interior, and as the rainy season was now setting
in I persuaded Karfa to return to his people at Jindey. He parted
with me on the 14th with great tenderness; but as I had little hopes
of being able to quit Africa for the remainder of the year, I told him,
as the fact was, that I expected to see him again before my departure.
In this, however, I was luckily disappointed, and my narrative now hastens
to its conclusion; for on the 15th, the ship Charlestown, an
American vessel, commanded by Mr. Charles Harris, entered the river.
She came for slaves, intending to touch at Goree to fill up, and to
proceed from thence to South Carolina. As the European merchants
on the Gambia had at this time a great many slaves on hand, they agreed
with the captain to purchase the whole of his cargo, consisting chiefly
of rum and tobacco, and deliver him slaves to the amount in the course
of two days. This afforded me such an opportunity of returning,
though by a circuitous route, to my native country as I thought was
not to be neglected. I therefore immediately engaged my passage
in this vessel for America; and having taken leave of Dr. Laidley, to
whose kindness I was so largely indebted, and my other friends on the
river, I embarked at Kayee on the 17th day of June.
Our passage down the river was tedious and fatiguing; and the weather
was so hot, moist, and unhealthy, that before our arrival at Goree four
of the seamen, the surgeon, and three of the slaves had died of fevers.
At Goree we were detained, for want of provisions, until the beginning
of October.
The number of slaves received on board this vessel, both on the Gambia
and at Goree, was one hundred and thirty, of whom about twenty-five
had been, I suppose, of free condition in Africa, as most of those,
being bushreens, could write a little Arabic. Nine of them had
become captives in the religious war between Abdulkader and Damel, mentioned
in the latter part of the preceding chapter. Two of the others
had seen me as I passed through Bondou, and many of them had heard of
me in the interior countries. My conversation with them, in their
native language, gave them great comfort; and as the surgeon was dead
I consented to act in a medical capacity in his room for the remainder
of the voyage. They had in truth need of every consolation in
my power to bestow; not that I observed any wanton acts of cruelty practised
either by the master or the seamen towards them, but the mode of confining
and securing negroes in the American slave-ships (owing chiefly to the
weakness of their crews) being abundantly more rigid and severe than
in British vessels employed in the same traffic, made these poor creatures
to suffer greatly, and a general sickness prevailed amongst them.
Besides the three who died on the Gambia, and six or eight while we
remained at Goree, eleven perished at sea, and many of the survivors
were reduced to a very weak and emaciated condition.
In the midst of these distresses the vessel, after having been three
weeks at sea, became so extremely leaky as to require constant exertion
at the pumps. It was found necessary therefore to take some of
the ablest of the negro men out of irons and employ them in this labour,
in which they were often worked beyond their strength. This produced
a complication of miseries not easily to be described. We were,
however, relieved much sooner than I expected, for, the leak continuing
to gain upon us, notwithstanding our utmost exertions to clear the vessel,
the seamen insisted on bearing away for the West Indies, as affording
the only chance of saving our lives. Accordingly, after some objections
on the part of the master, we directed our course for Antigua, and fortunately
made that island in about thirty-five days after our departure from
Goree. Yet even at this juncture we narrowly escaped destruction,
for on approaching the north-west side of the island we struck on the
Diamond Rock and got into St. John’s Harbour with great difficulty.
The vessel was afterwards condemned as unfit for sea, and the slaves,
as I have heard, were ordered to be sold for the benefit of the owners.
At this island I remained ten days, when the Chesterfield packet,
homeward bound from the Leeward Islands, touching at St. John’s
for the Antigua mail, I took my passage in that vessel. We sailed
on the 24th of November, and after a short but tempestuous voyage arrived
at Falmouth on the 22nd of December, from whence I immediately set out
for London; having been absent from England two years and seven months.
NOTE
The following passage from James Montgomery’s poem, “The
West Indies,” published in 1810, was inspired by “Mungo
Park’s Travels in the Interior of Africa.” It enshrines
in English verse the beautiful incident of the negro woman’s song
of “Charity” (on page 190 of the first of these two volumes),
and closes with the poet’s blessing upon Mungo Park himself, who
had sailed five years before upon the second journey, from which he
had not returned, and whose fate did not become known until five years
later.
Man, through all ages of revolving time,
Unchanging man, in every varying clime,
Deems his own land of every land the pride,
Beloved by Heaven o’er all the world beside;
His home the spot of earth supremely blest,
A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest.
And is the Negro outlawed from his birth?
Is he alone a stranger on the earth?
Is there no shed whose peeping roof appears
So lovely that it fills his eyes with tears?
No land, whose name, in exile heard, will dart
Ice through his veins and lightning through his heart?
Ah! yes; beneath the beams of brighter skies
His home amidst his father’s country lies;
There with the partner of his soul he shares
Love-mingled pleasures, love-divided cares;
There, as with nature’s warmest filial fire,
He soothes his blind and feeds his helpless sire;
His children, sporting round his hut, behold
How they shall cherish him when he is old,
Trained by example from their tenderest youth
To deeds of charity and words of truth.
Is he not blest? Behold, at closing day,
The Negro village swarms abroad to play;
He treads the dance, through all its rapturous rounds,
To the wild music of barbarian sounds;
Or, stretched at ease where broad palmettos shower
Delicious coolness in his shadowy bower,
He feasts on tales of witchcraft, that give birth
To breathless wonder or ecstatic mirth:
Yet most delighted when, in rudest rhymes,
The minstrel wakes the song of elder times,
When men were heroes, slaves to Beauty’s charms,
And all the joys of life were love and arms.
Is not the Negro blest? His generous soil
With harvest plenty crowns his simple toil;
More than his wants his flocks and fields afford:
He loves to greet a stranger at his board:
“The winds were roaring and the White Man fled;
The rains of night descended on his head;
The poor White Man sat down beneath our tree:
Weary and faint and far from home was he:
For him no mother fills with milk the bowl,
No wife prepares the bread to cheer his soul.
Pity the poor White Man, who sought our tree;
No wife, no mother, and no home has he.”
Thus sung the Negro’s daughters; - once again,
O that the poor White Man might hear that strain!
Whether the victim of the treacherous Moor,
Or from the Negro’s hospitable door
Spurned as a spy from Europe’s hateful clime,
And left to perish for thy country’s crime,
Or destined still, when all thy wanderings cease,
On Albion’s lovely lap to rest in peace,
Pilgrim! in heaven or earth, where’er thou be,
Angels of mercy guide and comfort thee!
A note to the same poem gives the following record of facts, substantiated
in a court of justice, in which there can be only one answer to the
question, “Which were the savages?”
“In this year (1783) certain underwriters desired to be heard
against Gregson and others of Liverpool, in the case of the ship Zong,
Captain Collingwood, alleging that the captain and officers of the said
vessel threw overboard one hundred and thirty-two slaves alive into
the sea, in order to defraud them by claiming the value of the said
slaves, as if they had been lost in a natural way. In the course
of the trial which afterwards came on, it appeared that the slaves on
board the Zong were very sickly; that sixty of them had already
died, and several were ill and likely to die, when the captain proposed
to James Kelsal, the mate, and others to throw several of them overboard,
stating that ‘if they died a natural death, the loss would fall
upon the owners of the ship, but that if they were thrown into the sea,
it would fall upon the underwriters.’ He selected accordingly
one hundred and thirty-two of the most sickly of the slaves. Fifty-four
of these were immediately thrown overboard, and forty-two were made
to be partakers of their fate on the succeeding day. In the course
of three days afterwards the remaining twenty-six were brought upon
deck to complete the number of victims. The first sixteen submitted
to be thrown into the sea, but the rest, with a noble resolution, would
not suffer the offices to touch them, but leaped after their companions
and shared their fate.
“The plea which was set up in behalf of this atrocious and unparalleled
act of wickedness was that the captain discovered, when he made the
proposal, that he had only two hundred gallons of water on board, and
that he had missed his port. It was proved, however, in answer
to this, that no one had been put upon short allowance; and that, as
if Providence had determined to afford an unequivocal proof of the guilt,
a shower of rain fell, and continued for three days, immediately after
the second lot of slaves had been destroyed, by means of which they
might have filled many of their vessels with water, and thus have prevented
all necessity for the destruction of the third.
“Mr. Granville Sharp (who after many years of struggle first obtained
the decision of a court of justice that there are no slaves in
England) was present at this trial, and procured the attendance of a
shorthand writer to take down the facts which should come out in the
course of it. These he gave to the public afterwards. He
communicated them also, with a copy of the trial, to the Lords of the
Admiralty, as the guardians of justice upon the seas, and to the Duke
of Portland, as principal Minister of state. No notice, however,
was taken by any of these of the information which had been thus sent
them.”
Another incident of the Middle Passage suggested to James Montgomery
a poem called “The Voyage of the Blind.”
“It was that fatal and perfidious bark,
Built in the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark.”
MILTON’S Lycidas.
The ship Le Rodeur, Captain B., of 200 tons burthen, left Havre
on the 24th of January, 1819, for the coast of Africa, and reached her
destination on the 14th of March following, anchoring at Bonny, on the
river Calabar. The crew, consisting of twenty-two men, enjoyed
good health during the outward voyage and during their stay at Bonny,
where they continued till the 6th of April. They had observed
no trace of ophthalmia among the natives; and it was not until fifteen
days after they had set sail on the return voyage, and the vessel was
near the equator, that they perceived the first symptoms of this frightful
malady. It was then remarked that the negroes, who to the number
of 160 were crowded together in the hold and between the decks, had
contracted a considerable redness of the eyes, which spread with singular
rapidity. No great attention was at first paid to these symptoms,
which were thought to be caused only by the want of air in the hold,
and by the scarcity of water, which had already begun to be felt.
At this time they were limited to eight ounces of water a day for each
person, which quantity was afterwards reduced to the half of a wine-glass.
By the advice of M. Maugnan, the surgeon of the ship, the negroes, who
had hitherto remained shut up in the hold, were brought upon deck in
succession, in order that they might breathe a purer air. But
it became necessary to abandon this expedient, salutary as it was, because
many of the negroes, affected with nostalgia (a passionate longing
to return to their native land), threw themselves into the sea, locked
in each other’s arms.
The disease, which had spread itself so rapidly and frightfully among
the Africans, soon began to infect all on board. The danger also
was greatly increased by a malignant dysentery which prevailed at the
time. The first of the crew who caught it was a sailor who slept
under the deck near the grated hatch which communicated with the hold.
The next day a landsman was seized with ophthalmia; and in three days
more the captain and the whole ship’s company, except one sailor,
who remained at the helm, were blinded by the disorder.
All means of cure which the surgeon employed, while he was able to act,
proved ineffectual. The sufferings of the crew, which were otherwise
intense, were aggravated by apprehension of revolt among the negroes,
and the dread of not being able to reach the West Indies, if the only
sailor who had hitherto escaped the contagion, and on whom their whole
hope rested, should lose his sight, like the rest. This calamity
had actually befallen the Leon, a Spanish vessel which the Rodeur
met on her passage, and the whole of whose crew, having become blind,
were under the necessity of altogether abandoning the direction of their
ship. These unhappy creatures, as they passed, earnestly entreated
the charitable interference of the seamen of the Rodeur; but
these, under their own affliction, could neither quit their vessel to
go on board the Leon, nor receive the crew of the latter into
the Rodeur, where, on account of the cargo of negroes, there
was scarcely room for themselves. The vessels therefore soon parted
company, and the Leon was never seen nor heard of again, so far
as could be traced at the publication of this narrative. In all
probability, then, it was lost. On the fate of this vessel
the poem is founded.
The Rodeur reached Guadaloupe on the 21st of June, 1819, her
crew being in a most deplorable condition. Of the negroes, thirty-seven
had become perfectly blind, twelve had lost each an eye, and fourteen
remained otherwise blemished by the disease. Of the crew, twelve,
including the surgeon, had entirely lost their sight; five escaped with
an eye each, and four were partially injured.
Footnotes:
{1} I should
have before observed that I found the language of Bambarra a sort of
corrupted Mandingo. After a little practice, I understood and
spoke it without difficulty.
{2} There is
another town of this name hereafter to be mentioned.
{3} From a plant
called kabba, that climbs like a vine upon the trees.
{4} Soon after
baptism the children are marked in different parts of the skin, in a
manner resembling what is called tattooing in the South Sea Islands.
{5} Chap. xxxi.
vv. 26-28.
{6} Poisoned
arrows are used chiefly in war. The poison, which is said to be
very deadly, is prepared from a shrub called koono (a species
of echites), which is very common in the woods. The leaves
of this shrub, when boiled with a small quantity of water, yield a thick
black juice, into which the negroes dip a cotton thread: this thread
they fasten round the iron of the arrow in such a manner that it is
almost impossible to extract the arrow, when it has sunk beyond the
barbs, without leaving the iron point and the poisoned thread in the
wound.
{7} A minkalli
is a quantity of gold nearly equal in value to ten shillings sterling.
{8} This is a
large, spreading tree (a species of sterculia) under which the
bentang is commonly placed.
{9} When a negro
takes up goods on credit from any of the Europeans on the coast, and
does not make payment at the time appointed, the European is authorised
by the laws of the country to seize upon the debtor himself, if he can
find him, or, if he cannot be found, on any person of his family; or,
in the last resort, on any native of the same kingdom.
The person thus seized on is detained, while his friends are sent in
quest of the debtor. When he is found, a meeting is called of
the chief people of the place, and the debtor is compelled to ransom
his friend by fulfilling his engagements. If he is unable to do
this, his person is immediately secured and sent down to the coast,
and the other released. If the debtor cannot be found, the person
seized on is obliged to pay double the amount of the debt, or is himself
sold into slavery. I was given to understand, however, that this
part of the law is seldom enforced.
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