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Title: Dawn in darkest Africa
Author: Harris, John H.
Language: English
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DAWN IN DARKEST AFRICA
[Illustration: MUSHAMALENGI, “A ROYAL PRINCE” OF THE BAKUBA KINGDOM IN
THE UPPER KASAI.
_Frontispiece._]
DAWN IN DARKEST
AFRICA
BY
JOHN H. HARRIS
WITH AN INTRODUCTION
BY
THE RIGHT HON. THE EARL OF CROMER
O.M., G.C.B., G.C.M.G., K.C.S.I.
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS AND A MAP_
LONDON
SMITH, ELDER & CO., 15, WATERLOO PLACE
1912
_All rights reserved_
PRINTED BY
WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED
LONDON AND BECCLES
INTRODUCTION
BY THE EARL OF CROMER
I have been asked to write a short introduction to this book, and I have
no hesitation in complying with the request.
Although the high motives and disinterested devotion which inspire
missionary and philanthropic effort are very generally recognized, there
is often a predisposition—more frequently felt than expressed—not only
amongst responsible officials but also in the minds of no inconsiderable
portion of the public to accept with some reserve both the accuracy of
the facts and the soundness of the conclusions emanating wholly from
these sources. This scepticism, provided it be not allowed to degenerate
into unworthy prejudice, is not merely healthy but even commendable. I
could mention cases within my own knowledge where missionary zeal was
certainly allowed to outrun discretion. It is the duty of responsible
officials to be sceptical in such matters. Whilst sympathizing with
humanitarians they should endeavour to remedy whatever of quixotism is
to be found in their suggestions; and to guide those from whom those
suggestions emanate along a path calculated to ensure the achievement
of their objects by the adoption of practical methods which will be
consonant with the moral and material interests of the Empire at large.
Occasional errors, the result of unchecked enthusiasm in a noble cause,
cannot, however, for one moment be allowed to outweigh the immense
benefits conferred on civilization by missionary and philanthropic
agencies. Nowhere have these benefits been more conspicuous than in the
case of the Congo.
The fact that but a few years ago the administration of the Congo was a
disgrace to civilized Europe is now so fully recognized, not only in this
country, but also—to the honour of the Belgians be it said—in Belgium
itself, that it is scarcely necessary to labour the point. One startling
fact is sufficient to demonstrate its true character. According to an
estimate made by Sir Reginald Wingate,[1] the population of the Soudan
under the Mahdi’s rule was reduced from 8,525,000 to 1,870,500 persons;
in other words over 75 per cent. of the inhabitants died from disease
or were killed in external or internal wars. The civilized European who
for some years presided over the destinies of the Congo was no more
merciful, save as a matter of percentage, than the ignorant and fanatical
Dervish at Khartoum. Mr. Harris states (p. 208) that, under the régime
of King Leopold, the Congo population was reduced from 20,000,000 to
8,000,000.[2] More than this. It is generally impossible in the long run
to pronounce a complete divorce between moral and material interests. It
will, therefore, be no matter for surprise that the Leopoldian policy was
as unsuccessful from an economic as it was from an humanitarian point
of view. It is now clear that unbridled company-mongering has gone far
to destroy the sources of wealth to which it owed its birth. Mr. Harris
tells a piteous tale of the manner in which the rubber vines have been
handled, and, generally of the condition of the plantations. Neither,
having regard to the wanton destruction of elephants (p. 213) does ivory
appear to have been much more tenderly treated than rubber.
Even the most hardened sceptic as regards the utility of missionary
enterprise will not, I think, be prepared to deny that to the
Missionaries, in conjunction with Mr. Morel, the main credit accrues
of having brought home to the British public, and eventually to the
public of Europe, the iniquities which, but a short time ago, were being
practised under European sanction in the heart of Africa.
Amongst this devoted band, many of whom have paid with their lives the
heavy toll which cruel Africa exacts, none have been more steadfast in
their determination to insist on the reform of the Congo administration
than the writer of this book—Mr. Harris. None, moreover, have brought
a more evenly-balanced mind to bear on the numerous problems which
perplex the African administrator. Mr. Harris may be an enthusiast,
but of this I am well convinced—both by frequent personal intercourse
and from a careful perusal of his work—that his enthusiasm is tempered
by reason and by a solid appreciation of the difference between the
ideal and the practical. He wisely (p. 35) deprecates undue Missionary
interference with local customs. He has even something (pp. 58-60) to say
in palliation of polygamy, and if I rightly understand his remarks on p.
154, he does not utterly exclude a resort to forced labour under certain
conditions and under certain circumstances.
Moreover, in so far as my experience enables me to form an opinion, Mr.
Harris has acquired a firm grasp of the main principles which should
guide Europeans who are called upon to rule over a backward and primitive
society, and of the fact that prolonged neglect of those principles
must sooner or later lead to failure or even disaster. He writes as a
fair-minded and thoroughly well-informed observer. Throughout his pages
may be found many acute observations on the various problems which, in
forms more or less identical, tax the ingenuity of the governing race
wherever the white and the coloured man meet as ruler and subject.
Notably Mr. Harris dwells (p. 67) on the great influence exerted by the
example set by officials; this example, he thinks—most rightly in my
opinion—is more important than the issue of laws and decrees. Here, he
says—and I quote the passage with regret—“is where the Belgian and French
Congo officials have failed so utterly.” To put the matter in another,
and somewhat mathematical, form, I have always held that 75 per cent. of
the influence of British officials for good depends on character, and
only 25 per cent. on brains. Mistakes arising from defective intelligence
will generally admit to being rectified. Those which are due to defects
of character are more often irremediable. My belief is that the great
and well-deserved success which has attended Sir Reginald Wingate’s
administration of the Soudan arises in no small degree from a recognition
of this common-place, and from its practical application in the choice
of officials. I am not sure that its importance is always adequately
recognized in London. It is well to encourage the importation of cocoa
and palm oil into the London market. But it is better to acquire the
reputation, which (p. 280) Mr. Harris says has passed into a proverb in
the Congo, that “the Englishman never lies.”
For these reasons I have no hesitation in recommending this book to the
public. Mr. Harris’ facts may perhaps be called in question by others
possessing greater local knowledge than any to which I can pretend. His
conclusions—notably those in his final chapter in which he re-arranges
the map of Africa in a somewhat daring spirit—manifestly admit of wide
differences of opinion. But he speaks with a unique knowledge of his
subject. The opportunities which, with praiseworthy zeal, he and his
devoted companion made for themselves to acquire a real knowledge of
African affairs has been exceptional. He has thus produced a book in
which the ordinary reader cannot fail to be interested if it is only by
reason of the vivid and picturesque account it gives of African life and
travel, and in which those who have paid special attention to African
administration will find many useful indications of the directions in
which their efforts towards reform may best be applied. Whatever may
be thought of some of Mr. Harris’ suggestions, it cannot but be an
advantage, more especially now that attention is being more and more
drawn to African affairs, that the Government, Parliament, and the
general public should learn what one so eminently qualified as Mr. Harris
to instruct them in the facts of the case has to say on the subject.
Mr. Harris is not sparing in his criticisms, neither does he withhold
praise when he considers it is due. Whilst strongly condemning the
slavery—for such it virtually is—that the Government of Portugal permits
in its Colonies, he dwells (p. 296) on the “kindly nature” of the
Portuguese themselves, and significantly adds “there is no colour-bar
in the Portuguese dominions.”[3] He appears to find little to commend
in French administration, and much (pp. 90 and 91) to condemn in their
commercial policy. He does justice (p. 88) to the thoroughness and
wisdom of the Germans in all matters connected with trade, and does not,
as I venture to think, detract from the merits of the liberal policy
which they have adopted by alluding to the fact that it is based on
self-interested motives. On the other hand, he strongly condemns (p.
142) the German treatment of the natives. He dwells (p. 92) on the petty
and vexatious obstacles placed in the way of a trade by the Belgian
officials of the Congo, of which “even Belgian merchants complain,” and
he has, of course, little to say in favor of Belgian administration in
other respects. But he has the fairness to admit (p. 209) that since
the annexation of the Congo by Belgium the death rate has diminished
and the birth rate increased—a fact which, after the experiences of the
Leopoldian régime, appears to me to be very eloquent, and to reflect much
credit on the Belgian Government. Moreover, he tells us that “wherever
the Belgian reforms have been most completely applied, there the ravages
of sleeping sickness appear to be more or less checked.”
These observations are interesting, as they enable a comparison to be
made with the results obtained under different systems of government, but
they deal with matters for which—save to a limited degree in the Congo,
and also perhaps to some slight extent as regards the continuance of
slavery in the Portuguese possessions—neither the British Government nor
the British nation are in any degree responsible. The internal policy to
be adopted in the African territories possessed by France and Germany is
a matter solely for the consideration of Frenchmen and Germans. But Mr.
Harris has a good deal to say about the conduct of affairs in British
African possessions, and it will be well if public attention is directed
to his remarks in this connection, lest having preached to others we may
ourselves become castaways.
Mr. Harris’ position is so completely detached that he may, without
the least hesitation, be acquitted of any desire to exalt unduly the
achievements of his own countrymen. The spirit in which he writes is
not national, but cosmopolitan. Moreover, he is manifestly not greatly
enamoured of the proceedings of some, at all events, of the British
officials. For these reasons his testimony is all the more valuable when
he speaks, as is frequently the case, in terms of warm praise of the
successful results which have been attained under British administration.
He says it is not only the best in West Central Africa, but that the
natives themselves recognize that it is the best. This testimony is
all the more satisfactory because the excellence of British rule has
not been always fully recognized in those circles in which Mr. Harris
principally moves. “With inherent instinct,” he says (p. 257), “the
British Government recognizes that the real asset of the Colony (_i.e._
the Gold Coast Colony) is the indigenous inhabitant, whose material and
moral progress is not only the first, but the truest interest of the
State.” It is by proceeding on this sound principle that the natives
have been kept in possession of the land. “The almost phenomenal success
of the cocoa industry in the British Colony of the Gold Coast,” Mr.
Harris says (p. 161), “is due entirely to the fact that the natives are
the proprietors of the cocoa farms.” It is also by the adoption of this
principle that it has been possible to solve the thorny labour question.
“The native farmers of Southern Nigeria and the Gold Coast employ a good
deal of native labour and generally speaking find little difficulty in
obtaining all they want” (p. 262).[4] Mr. Harris claims (p. 264) that
the economic will be no less satisfactory than the moral results of the
liberal policy which has been adopted by Great Britain, and that “the
indigenous industry of the British Colonies working in its own interests,
unencumbered by the heavy cost of European supervision and the drawbacks
of imported contract labour, will, under the guidance of a paternal and
sympathetic administration, certainly outdistance and leave far behind in
the race of supremacy such systems as those which prevail in San Thomé
and Principe.” I trust, and I also believe, that Mr. Harris will prove to
be a true prophet.
It is, moreover, the adoption of the principle to which I have alluded
above which enabled an American Bishop (p. 109) to characterize as “just
marvellous” the way in which the English are “covering the Continent with
educated natives,” and I am particularly glad he was able to add “with
carpenters, bricklayers, and engineers.”
In spite, however, of the unstinted praise which Mr. Harris has to bestow
and which makes it clear that, broadly speaking, we may legitimately
be proud of what our countrymen, both official and non-official, have
accomplished in Western Africa, he indicates certain defects in the
administration, some of which appear to me to be well worthy of the
attention of the responsible authorities.
In the first place, he says (p. 125) that “between the British official
class and the merchant community a great gulf is fixed.”[5] If this is
the case, there would certainly appear to be something wrong. There ought
to be no such gulf. But as I presume there is an official side to the
case, which I have never heard, I do not presume to pronounce any opinion
on the merits of the point at issue. Neither is it altogether pleasant
to read the episode related on p. 151. It is clearly not right to march
into a church whilst service is going on, impound a number of carriers
and “insist on a native clergyman carrying a box containing whisky.” One
may charitably hope that the facts of the case were not quite accurately
reported to Mr. Harris.
In the absence of adequate local knowledge I cannot pursue the discussion
of this branch of the subject any further, but there is one observation
I should wish to make. There cannot be a greater mistake than to employ
underpaid officials in the outlying dominions of the Crown. We do not
want the worst, or even the second best of our race to prosecute the
Imperial policy to which we are wedded as a necessity of our national
existence. The work presents so many difficulties of various descriptions
that if we are to succeed we must impound into the British service the
best elements which our race can produce, and, as I am well aware, even
when their services are obtained and every care has been taken, mistakes
will sometimes occur in making appointments. And if we want the best
material we must pay the best price for it. Men of the required type
will not submit to all the privations and discomforts, not to speak of
the dangers of an African career unless they are adequately remunerated.
I know well from bitter experience the difficulties attendant on paying
high salaries out of an impoverished, and even out of a semi-bankrupt
Treasury. And I also know the criticisms to which, notably in these
democratic days, the payment of high salaries is exposed. My answer to
the first of these objections is that if the Treasury cannot afford to
give adequate salaries to its European agents it is, on all grounds,
wiser to diminish the amount of European agency, or even to dispense with
it altogether. My own experience has led me to prefer infinitely the
employment of two efficient men on £500 a year to that of four doubtfully
efficient men on £250. My answer to the second objection is that those
who plead against high salaries are generally very ill-informed of the
facts with which they are dealing, and that, if ever there was a case
when Government, being better informed, should resist a hasty expression
of public opinion, it is this.
Are the British agents employed in subordinate positions in Africa
adequately paid? From all I have heard I have considerable doubts whether
they are so. In dealing with this subject, I have heard it sometimes
said: “Candidates are plentiful. If we can get a man on £250 a year or
less, why should we give him £500?” I consider this argument not merely
pernicious but ridiculous. It would never be used by any one who has
been brought face to face with the difficulties which have actually
to be encountered. Its application in practice is liable to lead to
very serious consequences in the shape of loss of national credit, and
possibly in other and even more serious directions.
Turning to another point, I notice (p. 120) that Mr. Harris states that
coloured men are practically debarred from entering the medical service
in the West African Colonies, and absolutely in the Gold Coast. If so,
I can only say that this regulation contrasts unfavourably with the
procedure adopted in other British possessions of which the inhabitants
are coloured, and adopted, moreover, without, so far as I am aware, the
production of any inconvenience. Possibly there are some special reasons,
with which I am unacquainted, which apply to West Africa, but they must
be very strong to justify a course so little in harmony with the general
practice and policy of the British Government elsewhere.
Mr. Harris deals fully with the subject of education, and in his fifth
chapter chivalrously defends the cause of that much-abused individual
the “educated native,” whose merits and demerits seem to present a
striking identity of character whether his residence be on the banks of
the Ganges, the Nile, or the Congo. The old complaint with which Indian
administrators are so familiar, that the education afforded is too purely
literary, re-appears in West Africa. Mr. Harris, however, dwells with
justifiable pride (p. 109) on the number of carpenters, bricklayers and
other mechanics turned out of the Mission Schools, and (p. 112) he most
rightly insists on the importance of extending “that largely neglected
branch of education—practical agriculture.” He suggests that a Commission
should be appointed “to study the whole question of the education of the
African peoples in British Equatorial possessions, with the object of
ascertaining how far the Government may be able to secure a more even
balance between the literary and technical training of natives, and how
far it may be possible to so re-adjust existing systems as to avoid
denationalization.”
My confidence in the results obtained by appointing Royal Commissions is
limited, but they afford a useful machinery for classifying facts and
sifting evidence, and thus provide some safeguard against the risk, which
is nowhere more conspicuous than in dealing with educational subjects, of
generalizing from imperfect or incorrect data. Mr. Harris’ suggestion on
this point will, I trust, receive due consideration.
Mr. Harris also dwells (pp. 113, 114) on the results which ensue when
young Africans are sent to England to obtain legal or medical education.
“No strong and friendly hand is outstretched to help them, no responsible
person comes forward to take them by the hand and bring them in touch
with the better elements of our national life.... Who can be surprised if
the only seeds they carry back to the Colonies are those evil ones which
produce a crop of tares to the embarrassment of Governments?”
If the Colonial Office and the Missionary Societies, acting either
independently or in unison with each other, can devise any satisfactory
solution of this very important and also extremely difficult problem,
they will earn the gratitude of all who are interested in the well-being
of our Asiatic and African dominions. Palliatives for the evils which
most assuredly arise under the existing system have been tried by the
Governments of India and Egypt, but so far as I know the success of these
efforts has not been very marked. I may mention that, so convinced was I
that the harm done by sending young Egyptians to England for purposes of
education more than counterbalanced the advantages which were obtained
that at the cost of a good deal of misrepresentation—which was quite
natural under the circumstances—I persistently discouraged the practice,
and urged that a preferable system was so to improve higher and technical
education on the spot as to render the despatch of students to Europe
no longer necessary. I fear, however, my efforts in this respect were
not altogether successful, for although higher education in Egypt has
unquestionably been much improved, the idea that European attainments
can best be cultivated in Europe itself has taken so strong a hold both
on Egyptian parents and on the Egyptian governing classes, that it is
well-nigh impossible to eradicate it.
By far, however, the most interesting and also the most important part
of Mr. Harris’ work is that in which he deals with the future of the
African possessions of Belgium and Portugal respectively. Even if I had
at my disposal all the information necessary to a thorough treatment
of these questions, it would not be possible to deal adequately with
the grave issues raised by Mr. Harris within the limits of the present
introduction. I confine myself, therefore, to a very few observations.
As regards the Congo, if I understand Mr. Harris’ view correctly, the
situation, broadly speaking, is somewhat as follows. Reforms have been
executed, and a serious effort, the sincerity of which he does not call
in question, has been made to rectify abuses for which neither the
Belgian Parliament nor the Belgian nation are in any degree responsible.
But although abuses have been checked, the main cause from which they
originally sprung has not yet been entirely removed. That cause is
that the Government, whose functions should be mainly confined to
administration, is still largely interested in commercial enterprises.
The State has not yet completely divorced itself from the production of
rubber for sale in the European markets. Moreover, the old officials, who
are tainted with Leopoldian practices, are still employed. Mr. Harris
even goes so far (p. 221) as to state that their presence acts as a
deterrent to the employment of Belgian officials of a higher type.[6] Mr.
Harris thinks—and, for my own part, I do not doubt rightly thinks—that
so long as this defective system[7] exists, radical reform of the Congo
administration will remain incomplete. But radical reform can only be
carried out at a very heavy cost, which the Belgian taxpayers, more
especially after the assurances which have been given to them, will
be unwilling to bear, and possibly incapable of bearing. Mn Harris,
therefore, thinks that the Belgian people will be unable to perform the
heavy task which, from no fault of their own, has been thrust upon them.
“There are reasons,” he says (p. 298), “for believing that the extensive
Congo territories are too heavy a responsibility for Belgium.”
It is very possible that Mr. Harris’ diagnosis is correct. But what is
to be the remedy? The remedy which he suggests is that Germany should
take over the greater part of the Belgian and a portion of the French
Congo, and (p. 302) should concede “an adequate _quid pro quo_” to
France. I will not attempt to discuss fully this suggestion which, to
the diplomatic mind, is somewhat startling. I will only say that I very
greatly doubt the feasibility of arranging any such “adequate _quid pro
quo_” for France as Mr. Harris seems to contemplate. The British attitude
in connection with any transfer of the Congo State from its present
rulers to Germany appears to me, however, to be abundantly clear. If any
amicable arrangement could be made by which Germany should enter into
possession of the Congo, we may regard it, from the point of view of
British interests, without the least shadow of disfavour or jealousy,
but—and this point appears to me to be essential—it must be of such a
nature as will not in any degree impair the very friendly relations which
now fortunately exist between our own country and France. The well-being
of the Congo State, however deserving of consideration, must be rated
second in importance to the steadfast maintenance of an arrangement
fraught with the utmost benefit not merely to France and England, but to
the world in general.
Failing any such rather heroic measures as those proposed by Mr. Harris,
the only alternative would appear to be to rely on Belgian action, and
to exercise continuous but steady and very friendly pressure in the
direction of crowning the work of the Congo reformers. It would be unjust
not to recognize the great difficulties which a series of untoward events
has created for Belgium. It may well be that if this course is adopted
the progress of reform will be relatively slow, and that in the end it
will be less effective than that which would be secured by an immediate
and radical change of system. But I rise from a perusal of Mr. Harris’
pages with a feeling that Congo reformers have no cause for despair,
albeit their ideals may be impossible of realization in the immediate
future.
The case of Portugal is, from the British point of view, if not less
difficult, certainly far more simple than that of the Congo. If one-half
of what Mr. Harris says is correct—and I see no reason whatever to doubt
the accuracy of his facts—two points are abundantly clear. The first is
that however it may be disguised by an euphemistic nomenclature, slavery
virtually exists in the African possessions of Portugal. The second is
that the methods adopted in the repatriation of the slaves are open to
very strong and very legitimate criticism. The process of dumping down
a number of starving blacks on the coast of the mainland and leaving
them to find their own way to their distant homes in Central Africa can
scarcely be justified.
Portugal is justly proud of her historical connection with Africa and
wishes to retain her African possessions. We may heartily sympathize
with this honourable wish. I know of no adequate reasons for supposing
that the present political status of those possessions is threatened.
But, I venture to think, it would be a mistaken kindness to leave the
Portuguese under any delusion on one point. There are some things which
no British Government, however powerful otherwise, can undertake to
perform. First and foremost amongst those things is the use of the
warlike strength of the British Empire to maintain a slave State. In
spite of the long-standing friendship between the two countries, in spite
of historical associations which are endeared to all Englishmen, and
in spite of the apparently unequivocal nature of treaty engagements,
it would, I feel assured, be quite impossible, should the African
possessions of Portugal be seriously menaced, for British arms to be
employed in order to retain them under the uncontrolled possession of
Portugal, so long as slavery is permitted. It is earnestly to be hoped
that, before any such contingency can arise, the Portuguese Government
will have removed the barrier which now exists by totally abolishing a
system which is worthy of condemnation alike on economic and on moral
grounds.
One further incident in connection with the general question is worthy
of notice. Mr. Harris says (p. 200) that a small number of the slaves
now employed at San Thomé are British subjects. There ought surely to be
no great difficulty in dealing with this class. African experts would
probably be able to say whether the claim to British nationality was
justified or the reverse. If justified, it seems to me that the British
Government should send a ship to San Thomé, embark the men, and, after
having landed them at the most convenient ports on the mainland, make
suitable arrangements for despatching them to their respective homes.
CROMER.
36, WIMPOLE STREET, _October, 1912_.
AUTHOR’S PREFACE
It has become the custom in recent years for writers, particularly those
recording their travels in semi-civilized regions, to disclaim in advance
any title to literary merit. I do not propose to make any exception
to this rule and would plead in lieu of literary style a sincerity of
purpose, which I beg my literary critics and superiors to accept. If
they feel that the facts and incidents set forth suffer from any lack of
literary ability, I can only hope that they will take the information
supplied upon some of the existing problems of West Africa and use it in
their own skilful way with the object of helping forward the march of
progress in West Central Africa.
The information contained in this book is drawn from an experience
of West Africa dating back to the year 1898 and in particular during
a recent journey of something like 5000 miles through the western
Equatorial regions. The principal questions under review, are those which
affect in the main the conventional basin of the Congo and the Colonies
of the Gulf of Guinea.
It has always been my endeavour to get to know the mind of natives and
merchants outside the circle of “the authorities,” a habit which I feel
has sometimes entailed the appearance of discourtesy, but I know how
reticent are the merchant communities, no less than the native tribes,
even the most untutored of them, if they see a man or woman holding
friendly relations with the powers that be. This method of investigation
I have always pursued, with the result that information of the utmost
value has frequently been supplied. Whilst, however, I have felt this
to be the best course to follow I have, at the same time, tried to
place myself in the position of a responsible minister of the Crown,
a governor, an official and even a planter, in order that so far as
possible I may look at things from their standpoint.
The question may be raised by some of my readers how a man who has spent
so many years of his life in distinctly religious work can presume to
write upon commercial and political problems. I would make no excuse
for so doing, but in justification would say that prior to preparation
for missionary work, it is well-known by many of my friends that I held
a responsible position in one of the leading commercial houses of the
city of London, which, amongst other advantages, gave me a large insight
into foreign and colonial questions. My experience of the Congo and
cognate questions early brought me into touch with eminent statesmen
and well-known public men, including President Roosevelt, Lord Cromer,
Sir Edward Grey, Lord Fitzmaurice, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Sir
Charles Dilke, Sir Francis Hyde Villiers, Sir Arthur Hardinge, Sir Harry
Johnston, Sir Valentine Chirol, Mr. St. Loe Strachey, Dr. Thomas Hodgkin,
and my friends Travers Buxton, E. D. Morel and Harold Spender. It is
impossible to enjoy frequent discussions with men of such breadth of
knowledge, wide experience and high ideals, without considerable profit,
and at least some qualification for a responsible position. If there
is one to whom I am more deeply indebted than another, it is to Lord
Fitzmaurice, whose friendship and counsel I have been privileged to enjoy
in an increasing measure for nearly twelve years.
My thanks are due to the Editors of _The Times_, _The Manchester
Guardian_, _The Nation_, _The Daily Chronicle_, _The Daily News and
Leader_, and the _Contemporary Review_ for permission to use material
which has already appeared in their columns. To Mr. Hamel Smith, the
Editor of _Tropical Life_, the Liverpool Chamber of Commerce, Messrs.
John Holt, F. A. Swanzy and Elder Dempster, for the information and
help they have so kindly supplied to me, and also to my wife for the
assistance rendered to me in the preparation of the manuscript.
_October, 1912._
TO
MY DEVOTED COMPANION
WHO HAS SO PATIENTLY BORNE THE HARDSHIPS
OF TRAVEL AND THE LONG STRAIN OF OUR
LABOURS FOR THE NATIVE RACES
THESE PAGES ARE
DEDICATED
CONTENTS
PAGE
INTRODUCTION BY THE EARL OF CROMER v
AUTHOR’S PREFACE xxiii
FOREWORD xxxiii
PART I
I. THE AFRICAN “PORTER” 3
II. THE PADDLER AND HIS CANOE 10
III. THE AFRICAN FOREST 17
IV. A MEDLEY OF CUSTOMS 23
(_a_) CICATRIZATION 26
(_b_) PERSONAL ADORNMENT 31
(_c_) THE ANGEL OF DEATH 36
(_d_) PEACE AND ARBITRATION 40
V. THE NATIVE AS A MONEY MAKER 45
VI. THE AFRICAN WOMAN 52
PART II
CIVILIZATION AND THE AFRICAN
I. THE WHITE MAN’S BURDEN 75
II. LIGHTENING THE WHITE MAN’S BURDEN 81
III. GOVERNMENTS AND COMMERCE 87
IV. THE LIQUOR TRAFFIC 98
V. THE EDUCATED NATIVE 106
VI. JUSTICE AND THE AFRICAN 116
VII. RACE PREJUDICE 122
PART III
I. LABOUR—SUPPLY AND DEMAND 131
II. LAND AND ITS RELATION TO LABOUR 157
III. PORTUGUESE SLAVERY 168
IV. THE FUTURE OF BELGIAN CONGO 203
PART IV
MORAL AND MATERIAL PROGRESS
I. THE PRODUCTS OF THE OIL PALM 225
II. THE PRODUCTION OF RUBBER 235
III. THE PRODUCTION OF COCOA 246
IV. THE PROGRESS OF CHRISTIAN MISSIONS 265
PART V
I. THE MAP OF AFRICA RE-ARRANGED 293
INDEX 305
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
MUSHAMALENGI, “A ROYAL PRINCE” OF THE BAKUBA KINGDOM IN
THE UPPER KASAI _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
A LIGHT-HEARTED CARRIER 4
THE CANOE SINGER 4
THE VINES OF THE TROPICAL FOREST 8
MRS. HARRIS CANOEING ON THE ARUWIMI, UPPER CONGO 12
A RICKETY DUG-OUT 12
WILD FOREST FRUIT 18
THE “ELEPHANT EAR” IN THE WET SEASON 20
WILD FOREST FRUIT 20
THE “HEALING” FETISH 24
THE BAKETI MEMORIAL GROUND. TREES UPROOTED AND PLANTED BRANCHES
DOWNWARDS IN MEMORY OF THE DEAD 24
THE SWASTIKA CICATRICE 26
THE OYSTER SHELL CICATRICE 26
CICATRICED WOMEN OF EQUATORVILLE 28
THE BANGALLA “RASP” CICATRICE 28
BANGALLA CHIEF WITH HEAD TIGHTLY BOUND FROM BIRTH 32
BANGALLA BABE WITH HEAD TIGHTLY BOUND 32
A FIVE-FOOT BEARD 34
STYLES OF ARUWIMI HEAD-DRESS 34
THE WITCH 38
SLAVE GRAVEYARD ON THE ISLAND OF SAN THOMÉ 38
THE WITCH DOCTOR WITH HIS CHARMS FOR EVERY ILL 40
A NATIVE PLANTER IN HIS FUNTUMIA PLANTATION, SOUTHERN NIGERIA 50
RUBBER COLLECTORS, KASAI RIVER, UPPER CONGO 50
WOMEN POUNDING OIL PALM NUTS 54
GRINDING CORN ON THE KASAI, UPPER CONGO 56
A CHRISTIAN COUPLE RETURNING FROM THE GARDENS TOWARDS SUNSET 58
WEAVING CLOTH IN THE KASAI, UPPER CONGO 58
“TWIN POTS” HOISTED ON FORKED STICKS EITHER SIDE OF PATHWAY IN
HONOUR OF NEWLY BORN TWINS, BANGALLA, CONGO 70
WILD FLOWERS GROWING ON TRUNK OF FOREST TREE 78
“THE STORY THE GRAVEYARDS TELL” 78
CATARACT REGION BELOW STANLEY POOL, BELGIAN CONGO 94
DR. SAPARA OF LAGOS, A MEDICAL MAN IN THE SERVICE OF THE BRITISH
GOVERNMENT 110
COCOA FARM, BELGIAN CONGO 134
A CONGO CHIEF WITH SOME OF HIS WIVES AND “BASAMBA” CONCUBINES 144
A HUNTER’S “LUCKY” FETISH 146
PRINCE ELEKO AND COUNCIL, SOUTHERN NIGERIA 168
LAND FORMATION, LOANDA, PORTUGUESE ANGOLA 170
CHANCEL AND NORTH WALL OF DISUSED DUTCH CHURCH, LOANDA (see
page 171) 172
COCOA CARRYING, BELGIAN CONGO 174
ENTRANCE TO COCOA ROÇA, PRINCIPE ISLAND (PORTUGUESE) 174
SLAVES ON SAN THOMÉ 180
DISUSED SLAVE COMPOUND IN REAR OF HOUSE, CATUMBELLA 180
SLAVES ON COCOA ROÇA, PRINCIPE ISLAND 184
THE END OF THE SLAVE. TWO SLAVES CARRYING DEAD COMRADE IN SACK
TO BURIAL 184
GUM COPAL FOR SALE, UPPER CONGO 214
GOVERNMENT IVORY AND RUBBER, UPPER CONGO 214
AN AVENUE OF OIL PALMS: TEN YEARS’ GROWTH 226
“WALKING” UP TO GATHER FRUIT. WEAVER BIRDS’ NESTS ON THE PALM
FRONDS 230
HEADS OF OIL PALM FRUIT 230
THE OIL PALM IN THE GRIP OF ITS PARASITIC ENEMY:—
THE CREEPER AT AN EARLY STAGE 232
ROOT AND BRANCH IN DEADLY GRIP 232
FINE HEADS OF OIL PALM FRUIT 234
CARRYING RUBBER VINES TO VILLAGE 240
EXTRACTING RUBBER, KASAI RIVER, UPPER CONGO 240
COCOA ON SAN THOMÉ. TERMITE TRACK VISIBLE ON THE TRUNK OF TREE 246
COCOA DRYING IN SUN 256
THE CRUCIFIX IN AFRICAN FETISH HUT ON THE ISLAND OF SAN THOMÉ 272
RUIN OF ONCE IMPOSING CHURCH ON THE ISLAND OF PRINCIPE 272
INTERIOR OF MISSIONARIES’ HOUSE. BASEL INDUSTRIAL MISSION
FURNITURE MADE BY GOLD COAST INDUSTRIAL SCHOLARS 284
MAP OF CENTRAL AND SOUTH AFRICAN COLONIES WITH “MOTHER
COUNTRIES” DRAWN TO SAME SCALE _at end of text_
FOREWORD
WEST AFRICA
West Africa, as some of us have known her, is rapidly changing. Within
the memory of most men, there were deserts uncrossed, forests unexplored,
tribes of people unknown. To-day every desert has been traversed; to-day
we know not only the forests, but nearly every species of tree they
contain; we know, and can locate, almost every African tribe, and almost
every foot of territory has passed under the control, for the time being
at least, of some alien Power.
At the present moment political boundaries are more or less fixed, but
for how long? In Europe certain Powers are, for one reason or another,
seeking opportunities somewhere for colonial expansion, and the moment
seems opportune for a reshuffle of colonial possessions, but where, and
how?
Looking into the Far East, the statesman sees nothing but trouble ahead
in the Celestial Empire, to say nothing of Japan standing sentinel over
the Orient. South America, with its vast resources and possibilities,
might fall an easy prey to an energetic Power, but over every Republic,
Monroe casts his protective declaration which, with the march of time,
fastens itself ever more firmly upon the vitals of the body politic of
the Republican States of South America.
Back to Africa, the searching eye of the statesman returns and rests
to-day. There in the Dark Continent are great territories awaiting
development, there weak administrations are “muddling along” doing
themselves no good, and their neighbours irreparable harm. For those
Powers the hand-writing is on the wall; they must either “get on, or get
out,” otherwise “like a whirlwind” some other Power will come and without
ceremony bundle them out of the path of progress.
In fifty years the map of Africa will bear little resemblance to that
of to-day, but what of the natives? Are they to have no voice in their
destiny? One listens with impatience to the cool and calculating
discussions for a re-arrangement of the map of Africa, which are
being carried on without any reference to the native tribes, without
any reference to treaty obligations, and with little respect for the
fundamental obligations of Christianity, the teaching of which the
European Powers claim as their special monopoly.
Commerce, too, is changing; the kind-hearted merchant of West Africa
going forth at his own charges, trudging from village to village founding
branches, paddling up and down the rivers and planting factories, is
disappearing, and the soulless corporation with directors who are mere
machines for registering dividends, are taking his place. Commerce in
West Africa is rapidly losing all the humanity which was once its driving
force.
The natives are abandoning the old forms of warfare. Denied the weapons
which would give them equal chances in mortal gage, they are astute
enough to refuse to accept mere butchery. They are learning that there
are powers mightier than the sword; education is advancing by leaps and
bounds, and the more virile colonies are producing strong men who will
make themselves felt before many years have passed over our heads. The
African is shaking himself free from the shackles he has worn for so long
and is at last beginning to realize his strength. At present Britain,
with all her shortcomings, leads the way in giving the native the fullest
scope for his abilities. In British and Portuguese Colonies alone in West
Africa has the free native the chance of attaining the full stature of
a man. In German and French tropical territories, the native is there,
not as a citizen, but merely as a necessary adjunct to the production of
wealth for the white man. How long he will be content with this position
is a question, and evidences of a coming change are everywhere apparent.
Soon the Africa we have known—yea, and loved—will have been hustled away.
Its forests, rivers and tribes will possess no more secrets; gone will be
the simple old chief; gone the primitive village untouched by European;
gone the old witch doctor, and gone too, perhaps, that beautiful faith
and trust in the goodness and honesty of the white man—the pity of it all!
Before these changes come, it behoves us to examine closely the great
problems before us—the problems of future political divisions, problems
of labour, and of education in the largest and fullest sense—and so to
readjust our conceptions and laws with an understanding of the natives as
save ourselves from repeating the blunders of the past; blunders which
have cost Africa millions of useful lives; blunders which have indelibly
stained for time and eternity the escutcheon of Christian Europe;
blunders for which recompense can never be adequately made, but which at
least should serve as a warning for the future.
PART I
I.—The African “Porter.”
II.—The Paddler and his Canoe.
III.—The African Forest.
IV.—A Medley of Customs:—
(_a_) Cicatrization.
(_b_) Personal Adornment.
(_c_) “The Angel of Death.”
(_d_) Peace and Arbitration.
V.—The Native as a Money Maker.
VI.—The African Woman.
I
THE AFRICAN “PORTER”
It is almost impossible to exaggerate the part which the African “porter”
or carrier, plays in the history of the Dark Continent. The hinterland
of the vast tropical regions—a death-trap to every beast of burden—has
been opened up by the carrier together with his brother transport
worker—the paddler. The heavier burden has, beyond question, been borne
by the former, by the countless thousands of hard woolly heads which
have sweated under the weight of innumerable bales and cases too often
receiving as a reward of their labour an endless stream of abuse. It
seemed justifiable to murmur when crossing those swamps and fighting
one’s way through impenetrable forest, but at a distance, and with time
for calm reflection, there can surely be no other thought in the mind of
any African traveller than that of admiration, as he pictures those sons
of Africa with heavy and cumbersome loads upon their heads, floundering
through swamps, or toiling up steep hills and along stony paths, cutting
and blistering the feet, while the fierce rays of the tropical sun scorch
every living thing. Yet on that carrier goes, footsore, often foodless,
yet ever ready to renew the march of to-morrow.
Railways and bridges, steamboats and bungalows, engines of war,
machinery for drilling into the bowels of the earth, lofty windmills,
telegraph wires and poles—these and other European conquerors of African
air, land and water have by the thousands of tons found themselves
hundreds of miles in the interior of Africa owing to the infinite
endurance of the African carrier. Abuse him who will, but be sure of one
thing, history will yet give him his due.
The railways, bridges and steamboats, would, so we were told, lessen
the need for carriers. That they have shortened distances we grant, but
so far from the need of the carrier being lessened, economic expansion
has increased the demand. The opening up of the country has brought an
insatiable civilization into close touch with vast uncultivated tracts of
land, with the result that a great impetus has everywhere been given to
agricultural development, which in turns calls for an unceasing stream of
carriers to feed the railways and steam craft.
[Sidenote: THE CARRIER ON THE MARCH]
Thirty years ago the British colony of the Gold Coast possessed no
railways, nor was there any export of cocoa. To-day she exports annually
over a million pounds’ worth of cocoa-beans, requiring in the season
over 100,000 carriers to convey the cocoa harvests to the railways. True
statesmanship must always aim at releasing labour from the unproductive
task of transport, in order that it may till the soil, but it is doubtful
whether the African carrier will ever completely disappear.
Their long procession is never without interest; every man has some
distinguishing mark upon which the white traveller may meditate as he
trudges along, now in front, now in the centre, now again in the rear
of a caravan. What a medley yonder man carries upon his head! There is
the traveller’s “chop” box or his bundle of bedding, to which perhaps is
lashed by means of a piece of forest vine, the sundry goods and chattels
of that simple-hearted carrier—an old salmon tin filled with odd little
packages of salt, chili peppers, bits of string, possibly a piece of
soap, an old knife and the end of a native candle. There is also the
“Sunday best,” whose owner, while looking happy enough in that strip
of loin cloth held in place by a cheap European strap, yet strides the
firmer and prouder because of that old cotton shirt and the patched white
trousers so carefully protected by a bundle of forest leaves. Provisions,
too, are there, carefully pounded, cooked and flavoured by the good wife
at home. Those unsavoury manioca puddings for “her man” are generously
accompanied by her catches of fish, smoked and set aside that he might
each day have an appetizing morsel for his meal.
[Illustration: A LIGHTHEARTED CARRIER.]
[Illustration: THE CANOE SINGER.]
Other carriers are distinguished by the wounds and bruises of their
calling—one limps along with a sore foot, but on he goes until the
journey’s end; others there are with sore skin or nasty wounds, caused by
forest thorns or rough stones, others whose chafed shoulders of yesterday
now gape and become a resting-place for the torment of flies; yet, with
it all, the impatient traveller too frequently falls to scolding and even
cursing them for their “laziness”!
No white man should be allowed to travel beyond a day’s journey with a
caravan unless he has a few medical aids for such bruised and wounded
helpers, and it will repay him if human gratitude can be called a
reward. Cuts and wounds are both the inevitable price of African travel,
and it is a necessity and a duty to carry a few spare bandages and
healing ointments. There is satisfaction too in gathering the sick men
round in the evening and giving them a soothing plaster, ointment or
a bandage. A little human kindness of this nature helps to make the
journey a happier one for all, but alas too often what the Germans call
_tropenkoller_ has no conception of a remedy for complaints beyond the
whip or the boot.
The carrier is no more an angel than other human beings, no matter
whether pink or black; he has all the imperfections and the love of
self-preservation of the brother who calls himself white. I remember once
having all the loads laid out ready for the start and then giving the
order for each man to choose his load. It was evident the carriers had
mentally marked the load each would like to seize, for a dash was made
for a small box only about 18 inches square and having the appearance
of a 20 lb. load—but it was a case of cartridges weighing 80 lbs.! How
promptly they all discarded that box and dashed away for the larger but
lighter loads!
Strangely enough the carrier seldom “pilfers” on a journey. The white
man’s goods may suffer depredations on the steamer or on the train, but
on the march there seems to be a sacred community of interest which
safeguards the goods of most white men as effectively as if protected by
the spirit-haunted herbs and parrot feathers of the witch doctor, but
when civilization, in the shape of steamers and railway trains, enters
barbarous regions away goes the eighth commandment. There is one respect
in which every African traveller invariably suffers—hungry at the mid-day
hour, he calls for “chop”; thirsty, he asks for filtered water; or at
night, dead tired, he looks for his folding bed; he may call in vain,
for either from set purpose with some definite object in view, or from
stupidity, these essentials to the white man are generally “miles behind.”
[Sidenote: THE CARRIER AND NATURE]
Probably the carrier is at his best when travelling through the vast
forests, where, shielded from the sun by the interlacing trees overhead,
it is delightfully cool and the layers of dried leaves render the path
as soft and springy as the richest carpet. Carriers and traveller are
in high mood and as conversation flows freely the traveller realizes
what great students of nature these sons of Africa are. As they walk
along, they will name every tree and almost every plant; they will tell
how many moons elapse before the trees begin to bear; they will give
descriptions of edible fruits, the birds and animals which each kind of
fruit attracts, varying these running comments by periodic dashes through
the undergrowth in search of fruits to illustrate the conversation.
How closely, too, they watch the path for the footprints of animal life,
never at a fault to identify the prints with their owners, or accurately
gauge the time when the creature passed by, begging, if the traces are
recent, to be allowed to track the “meat.” As time does not concern
the hunter, it is generally wise, if there is any reasonable chance of
obtaining food for the caravan, to camp for the night. This knowledge
of forest life stands the natives in good stead, for not infrequently
provisions run out on the long marches and in the absence of human
habitations, the question of feeding the caravan becomes a serious matter.
At one time we had marched for days without any opportunity of obtaining
a supply of food and the carriers were all suffering from hunger; in a
whole day we seldom found more than a small handful of edible fruit. At
last it became almost impossible to push on with the caravan so tired
and hungry: I called together a few of the men and asked what we should
do, whereupon one made the novel suggestion of “calling the meat.” The
proposal was readily taken up and three of us pushed on ahead with guns.
Arriving at a quiet spot, one of the men—a very son of the forest—fell on
his knees, and, placing the tips of two fingers in his nostrils, emitted
a series of calls which made that forest glen echo with, as it were,
the joyous cries of a troop of monkeys! How anxiously the tops of trees
were watched! After repeating these tactics in several places in the
immediate vicinity for about half-an-hour, a man close to me whispered
excitedly “here they come”! In the distance we could see the tree tops
moving, and in a short time a score of monkeys could be seen skipping
from tree to tree towards the inimitable monkey cries of our carrier. New
life was infused into the whole caravan when they saw the gun bring down
four monkeys for the evening meal; lowering countenances were wreathed
with smiles, grumblings and cursings gave place to joyous songs in which
even the sick and lame gladly joined. At dinner that night the men were
so famished that they could not stop to cook the meat, but contented
themselves with merely singeing off the skin and eating the uncooked
flesh.
[Illustration: THE VINES OF THE TROPICAL FOREST.]
[Sidenote: THE CARRIER’S FRIENDS]
To emerge from the forest is generally to enter once more into habitable
country, and there the carriers, no matter how far from home, generally
discover a relative—a brother or a sister, a father or a mother. Their
relationships are strangely elastic, many an African laying claim to as
many mothers as wives, in point of fact the father’s brothers and the
mother’s sisters all rank as the fathers and mothers of the children. The
roving British tar may have a wife in every port, but he is surpassed
by the African carrier who may have not only a wife but a mother and
sometimes a father too in every village!
II
THE PADDLER AND HIS CANOE
Central Africa, the unexplored land of our childhood, is vested with
a charm that never ceases to allure, and reveals her deepest secrets
only to those who dig deep and risk much to discover them. The rivers
with their shifting sandbanks, their treacherous rapids and whirlpools,
entice again and again those whom the miasma has threatened to slay, as
the rushing current threatens the unwary navigator. The native alone is
in any degree immune to the former, and it is he who, with his simple
knowledge of the shoals and currents, may venture with his inimitable
dug-out where scientific navigation is baffled. Inseparable from the
African river is the dug-out, unthinkable are the thousands of miles
of navigable waterway without this primitive, though astonishingly
effective, craft.
Canoeing in Central Africa may be not unpleasant, providing both canoe
and paddlers are amiably inclined. The number of canoes available is
so restricted that there is little choice, and comfort aside it is
wise always to sacrifice size to reputation, for a canoe with a bad
name will dispirit the paddlers. The trimmest and most seasoned craft,
capable of holding twenty to twenty-five paddlers, is the traveller’s
ideal, but the equipment is incomplete without a small pilot boat for
surplus baggage, manned with four or five paddlers, who will keep ahead,
but always in sight, forewarning of rocks, snags, or sandbanks, and
generally discharging the functions of a scout. No less important is the
selection of the crew, and these to complete a harmonious group should
be volunteers—the best plan being that of getting three or four cheery
spirits to select the remainder from amongst their friends.
[Sidenote: THE PADDLER AND MUSIC]
The African paddler readily responds to an appeal for a co-operative
canoe journey, but he dislikes any such undertaking as a mere hired
paddler. Make him part and parcel of the journey and a host of potential
difficulties vanish. Erect in the bows of the canoe a tiny rush shelter
with a bamboo bed for the white man, and only the two final though most
important elements remain—music and provisions—the absence of either
being equally fatal. For the latter, an ample supply of dried fish and
cassava can be stored in the canoe, while a currency in the shape of
beads, salt, cloth, pins and needles will do the rest. Without music the
African can neither live nor die, nor yet be buried; walking, riding,
eating, digging, paddling or dancing, he must have the rhythm of his
music, devoid of charm it may be to the European, but vital to the good
spirits of the African. To the accompaniment of an old biscuit tin or a
couple of sticks, the gunwale of the canoe, or the leaves of the forest,
any or all of which can be made to give forth a sufficiency of barbaric
sounds to set in rhythmic motion the voices and bodies of all within
range.
With canoe packed, paddlers in position with their long spear-shaped
paddles and musicians with their instruments, provisions piled high
and carefully covered, the start is made. Farewells are shouted, and
blessings pronounced which if measured by their volume should preserve
the traveller for all time from hippos and snags, storms and mosquitos,
sickness, accident and even death.
[Sidenote: CANOE CHARACTERISTICS]
One sees in the African canoe characteristics as distinct as those of the
paddlers, for with a limited companionship comes a close acquaintance
with nature and things inanimate. There is the leviathan among native
craft shaped by the chief and his followers from a forest giant and
bearing herself with the proud consciousness of regal ownership. In such
a craft the passengers need have no fear for she rides majestically with
her bows reared high, breasting the waves of the tornado-lashed river or
lake, unmoved by the raging of the elements. She is seen at her best as
she glides down stream under the combined influence of the current and
the swinging impetus of her thirty stout paddlers. There is the rickety
old canoe with broken stern and crippled sides, and her leaking bottom
stuffed with clay, but there is life in her yet. She ships water fore and
aft, and amidships too, soaking the traveller’s blankets and provisions,
but her long experience gives her an ease in travel which her younger
though stouter relatives cannot rival. Then there is the lumbering
ungainly dug-out, with crooked nose and knotty sides, unreliable and
ill-balanced, possessing an affinity for every submerged snag. “Hard
on” she frequently goes and every effort to free her threatens to drown
the occupants. Sandbanks she seeks out too and obstinately refuses to
“jump” them. The paddlers will haul her off and curse her roundly for her
crooked ways,—but as she was hewn so she will remain. At the other end
of the scale is the tiny fishing dug-out of the Niger and the Congo, and
their still smaller sister of Batanga in Spanish Guinea, the latter so
small that the owner may with ease carry on his shoulder both canoe and
fishing tackle, and whilst baiting hooks and catching fish he skilfully
sits astride her and paddles with his feet.
[Illustration: MRS. HARRIS CANOEING ON THE ARUWIMI, UPPER CONGO.]
[Illustration: A RICKETY DUG-OUT.]
Inseparable again from the dug-out is the paddler. Who that travelled
with him can forget him? Humorous as the London Jehu of the twentieth
century, dexterous as his civilized confrères of the ocean, as adaptable
to his surroundings as the clay to the potter’s art; at home everywhere
and in all conditions in his native land, swimming or standing, sitting
or lying, squatting or reclining, sleeping as soundly on the nose of the
canoe or the river bank as we in our downiest of feather beds. He is
ready and alert with the earliest peep of dawn, as the mists rise from
the surface of the river, presenting the appearance of a huge boiling
cauldron. Peeping from beneath your mosquito net you see his figure
outlined against the dawning light as he keeps a sharp look-out for
the hidden snag, and shivers with the clinging chilly mist. His powers
of endurance are unequalled, as the rising sun dispels the mists and
mounting higher in the heavens becomes increasingly fierce. He still
swings his paddle with steady persistence till his body steams with
the effort; then after a little halt and refreshment in the friendly
shade of the riverside forest, he will go on until the sun is sinking,
and if need be, still on in the moonlight, singing his monotonous boat
song, occasionally varied by a running commentary from the leader on the
incidents of the journey, the peculiarities of a certain paddler, or the
ways of the white occupants of the canoe.
During the whole day long the paddler will pursue his task, I see him
now almost unconsciously bending his body with each dip of the paddle,
till a sudden slowing down followed by a profound stillness arrests the
attention. I can again hear those whispered voices as the gentle lapping
of the water against the canoe side ceases, and the boat is still. A
monkey has perhaps been seen overhead springing from bough to bough, or
sitting nibbling the fruit of some forest tree, or it may be an edible
bird with flesh as tough as its plumage is gorgeous, that watches us
till the gun booms out and the creature is brought down. For a moment it
struggles in the river, then with a sudden splash, a man is swimming with
powerful strokes towards the prey which he a moment later lands in the
canoe, while the rest look approvingly on at their prospective meal. With
spirits heartened, on they go, singing of their capture and the feast
which is to follow, till turning a bend in the river the destination is
at last in sight.
[Sidenote: A CANOE RACE]
And how they love a race! Let them but see a competitor ahead bound for
the same goal, and despite their long day’s paddle they will redouble
their strokes. Caution is thrown to the winds and the canoe springs in a
mad gallop, rocking to and fro, pitching and tossing against the current
until the rival ahead, scenting a race, enters the competition with keen
zest. At such times I have found all warnings are in vain. With a rapid
girding up of the loin cloths as the boats proceed, a rearranging of the
cargo, children, dogs, fowls, baggage and all—the race begins in real
earnest. With much shouting and good-natured banter the one or the other
will take advantage of every prospect of an up-current; now out again in
midstream to avoid a snag; a paddle breaks in the effort, but is quickly
discarded and another seized without lessening the speed—and on they go,
each determined to win or sink their rival. The boats ship water, but are
made to right themselves with marvellous ingenuity and then both stop
to bale out, while the paddlers exchange good-humoured threats, gibes,
curses and defiance.
On again they go with little advantage to either side, and the word is
passed for the “master stroke.” Madder than ever is the race; the white
man may shout but they pay no heed, for young manhood has lost all sense
of danger. At last the opportunity occurs for the final advantage for the
river must be crossed at yonder point. Often have I tried to avoid this
danger, proceeding first to command, then to plead, but in vain. I might
as effectively have tried to control a hurricane with a feather! To clear
the point with its snags, one canoe must fall behind or cross the rival’s
bows—to give up and fall back is impossible. The attempt is generally
made by the smaller boat to cross the bows of her more powerful rival and
though occasionally successful she is more often struck amidships and
disappears completely—canoe, paddlers and all!
A great shout goes up and the victors splash in to the rescue, seizing
the mats, baskets, provisions and sundries, which float off in every
direction. The crew, as much at home in the water as on land, come up
one by one and others dive to seize the stern of the sunken canoe. With
vigorous pulling and pushing, the water is swished out till she floats
again, and in the vanquished spring, again baling out the remaining water
with their feet, till it is once more fit for occupation, and every one
is prepared for the last lap of the journey. The men take their beating
well, enjoying the laugh against themselves. That night all sleep
together in a friendly fishing encampment, while the white man curls up
in his canoe, and listens to the merry paddlers as they recount with
evident enjoyment the story of their five-mile race.
Who that has found a home and nightly shelter in an African canoe will
not, as he quits it after many days, feel that he is leaving an old
acquaintance behind him. Through the twenty-four hours of sleeping and
waking, the canoe and the traveller have adapted themselves to each
other’s limitations, and the recently vacated canoe speaks as eloquently
of emptiness as the vacant chair.
III
THE AFRICAN FOREST
There can hardly be any experience more exquisitely luxurious than
that of wandering on through the primeval forests of Central Africa.
The traveller whose daily round confines him to the great cities of a
hustling civilization finds himself in perfect solitude, perhaps for the
first time in his life. Every step he takes brings before him some new
wonder in nature’s garden; every hour in the day is alive with fresh
experiences.
Surely there is no language which aptly befits the transcendent beauty
of nature awaking to greet the new-born day. During the night, giant
forms have roamed at will through the silent glades and recesses of the
forests, but with the peep of day they have retired to their lair. Those
feathered sentinels, whose hoarse cry rings through the night hours,
have perforce veiled their eyes at the awakening of their comrades who
strike the sweeter chords befitting the glad hours of day. Throughout the
night the trees made monotonous music by the incessant drip drip of their
tears, but with the morning, the warm sun has bidden those tears begone.
When daylight breaks through the tree tops, the boughs sway here and
there as the monkeys, springing from tree to tree, gambol with their
fellows, only ceasing for a momentary peep at the strange intruders
of their sylvan preserve, as the undergrowth crackles beneath the
travellers’ feet and the squirrels dart across the pathway seeking a
safer retreat. The sight of the white clad figure, moving rapidly through
the mass of undergrowth, startles the mother bird from her nest, and off
she goes shrieking for her mate and warning her fellows. Yet over all, a
silence broods and the traveller falls to constant musing as he wends his
way.
For miles the dense forests will shut out the sun, and then perhaps
where a lofty giant tree has fallen in decay, a slanting ray of sun
will gleam through the leafy roof turning the pathway into a smiling
track of iridescent moss and fern. A few yards further and the path
descends abruptly into a woodland stream, bridged by rustic logs, only
possible of fording in mid-current by creeping warily along the trunk of
a tree which some thoughtful passer-by has felled. The logs and trees
which lie rotting in all directions are the home of shimmering mosses
and tiny fern. Beside the slippery and tottering causeway there shines
many a filigree globe of purest opal and cunning design like a fairy’s
incandescent light guiding the steps of the unwary traveller. They are
but insects’ nests, as fragile as delightsome, crumbling at the touch.
[Sidenote: THE BUSY ANTS]
The traveller can never proceed many miles on his journey without
meeting the dark lines of driver ants. At a distance of fifty yards,
all one sees is a uniform brown line, sometimes two inches wide,
sometimes as many feet. Drawing nearer they are seen to be well-ordered
regiments, thousands strong, with scouts, baggage bearers, captains
and field-marshals. Their enemies have fled at their approach and they
are masters of the field. On they will march, in faultless array, their
countless thousands obediently passing at a double their immovable
field-marshals, and as they proceed every living thing flees before them.
Now perhaps they disappear through some subterranean passage, tunnelled
out by their indomitable energy, to reappear on the surface when it suits
their plan. You may scatter them if you dare, but you can daunt them
never. Sweep them into heaps, kill them by the hundred, burn them by the
thousand, and tens of thousands surge forward, to fill up the ranks, and
remove the dead. Then the regiments will grimly move once more on their
way—an incentive to higher organisms.
[Illustration: WILD FOREST FRUIT.]
The African forests teem with life, for the most part silent; even the
great beasts glide along in perfect quietude—not till you are upon them
do you realize the proximity of the elephants; then, unless the traveller
be a Nimrod, his greatest concern is to avoid a possible encounter. They
love most a quiet glen near the forest stream, where they will plough the
earth in all directions and everywhere leave the impress of their giant
limbs stretched in gymnastics all their own; here and there scattered
over their playground lie scores of trees athwart each other, evidence
of no woodman’s axe, but of the entwining grip of the monster’s trunk,
who in his unrivalled strength delights thus to shew his power in his own
domain. Everywhere, too, the great forest apples lie idle after their
sport, and the natives tell how they spend hours hurling these great
balls at their fellows.
The rivers which everywhere feed the African forest, coupled with the
tropical sun, give luxuriance to all nature. Vines are there as much
as three feet in circumference, moss-grown and gnarled with age, born
perhaps when the parent acorns of our oldest oaks were yet unformed.
Sometimes like huge serpents they coil themselves in a tortuous grip
round two or three trees, each of which may be ten times their own size.
There is beauty too in these silent forests, when at intervals on the
march the traveller, almost unconsciously at first, begins to inhale the
fragrant odour of some delicious perfume sent forth by modest blooms
that shun the gaze of man. A little searching beneath the undergrowth,
or in the tree tops overhead, reveals a bloom upon which the eye gladly
lingers—trails of waxen jasmine hanging from the bush in exquisite
profusion.
[Sidenote: BEAUTY IN DECAY]
There is beauty, too, in the forest decay, in the fallen tree trunk,
whose rotting bark and ugly torn stump are transformed by tufts of
gracefully drooping fern, while tiny rootlets smile from out every
crevice. There is beauty, too, in the fungus growths, tinted and white,
or the perfection of coral, or blooms whose purple depths suggest some
cherished hot-house flower.
The experienced traveller is quick to note signs of a change; the
pathway leads uphill and the absence of giant tree trunks denotes that
he is treading a once cleared and populated region. That hill, whose
summit is capped with foliage, was once a village landmark, beneath it,
myriad termites live and pursue their daily toils through tunnels and
chambers that they have shaped by their countless thousands. Were man’s
three-score years and ten twice told devoted to the study of the ways and
purposes of the unheeded occupants of our earth, he had but then begun to
learn the alphabet of nature’s infinite resources.
[Illustration: THE “ELEPHANT EAR” IN THE WET SEASON.]
[Illustration: WILD FOREST FRUIT.]
Close to the termite hills the half-buried foundations of primitive
dwellings speak of departed life, and in the Congo, hundreds, yea
thousands, of these mark the spot where once the children of nature lived
out their simple life, till civilization strode through the land treading
ruthlessly down the souls of men. They have gone and their haunts lie
deserted, but their monuments remain. The discarded kernels of the
housewives’ palm nuts have taken root and now rear their graceful fronds
on faultless trunks like capitals of Corinthian pillars in some cathedral
aisle. As if by design they ranged themselves thus. In these silent
groves the traveller treads reverently upon the grassy floor; no monk is
here; there is no echo of the choristers’ song, but nature has reared
her temple where myriad voices rejoice and sing their song of praise,
unfettered by the forms and creeds of man.
The long day’s tramp is now over; the sun is setting and the birds are
carolling their evening song, as the traveller emerges into the open
space beside the gleaming river, flowing swiftly onwards with its errand
to the sea. The glow of the departing sun tints the clouds with purple
and gold outshining in glory the loveliness of the morning. Surely the
heavenly regions are not far beyond, and this is a glimpse behind the
veil. The afterglow has departed and the world of man falls asleep till
the twittering of the birds heralds the approach of another day with
another march through the inexhaustible forests of tropical Africa, where
verily
“Earth is crammed with Heaven
And every common bush ablaze with God.”
IV
A MEDLEY OF CUSTOMS
A lifetime spent amongst a single African tribe would scarcely exhaust
its folklore and customs. Awaiting scientific investigation there is
throughout the African continent a wealth of lore and superstition.
To him who would discover the hidden life of the African infinite
patience is essential. It is useless to force information; the best plan
is to wait until the “spirit moves” the old woman or chief to tell you
something of the inner life of the tribe. Perhaps the time and conditions
which most contribute to a flow of talk are a moonlight evening around
the log fires and cooking pots.
I see them now—these simple Africans, seated around the great earthenware
pot awaiting the meal of boiled cassava, pounded leaves or steamed
Indian corn. I hear that grey-headed old chief, with low musical voice,
passing on the traditions of past generations, so “that the boys may
know something of the early history of their race.” All the old stories
familiar to civilization are there. They all know that “man first went
wrong through woman gathering fruit in the forest,” the only variation
is that the kind of fruit differs in different parts of West Africa, but
it is always a forest fruit, always the woman tempted the man; always
man succumbed! Then the old chief will turn to the oft-told story—the
sacrificial efficacy of the young kid. It is remarkable how closely
this custom resembles even to-day that institution of the Pentateuch.
The young kid must be free from all disease, a perfect animal in every
respect. When killed the blood is carefully sprinkled on the lintel
and on each door-post. Other familiar sacred institutions are passed
under review. Then the animal kingdom comes under discussion, and the
whole series of Uncle Remus, with but slight variations, secures the
rapt attention of the listeners. It is at such times as these that the
student gets beneath the surface of polygamy, burial and marriage dances,
cicatrization and the more serious subjects of land tenure, tribal laws,
social ties and domestic slavery.
Not all tribes are equally interesting, probably the Baketi tribes on
the upper reaches of the Kasai river provide the greatest wealth of
interesting customs and folklore. Their grotesque images, carved in
wood, grin at the traveller from the door-posts of the houses, and
passing through the villages one has to be extremely careful not to
tread upon one of the fetishes which are scattered along the walks in
great profusion. One day I saw three separate fetishes within a single
square yard, and these, the father explained to us in his simple way,
he had purchased at, to him, a heavy cost, hoping thereby to restore to
health his only daughter. Not only does the Baketi fill his town with
fetishes and wooden images, but in the forests which separate village
from village, almost every tree along the pathway has rudely carved on
its trunk the grinning face of some impossible human being.
[Sidenote: THE BAKETI FETISH]
The Baketi, too, is probably unique in his memorial grounds. Most African
tribes bury the dead in the heart of the forest, but at the same time
near the village a memorial ground is set apart on which are erected tiny
memorial huts, which the restless spirits of the departed may inhabit
if they so choose. There, when the spirit pays such visits—as all good
spirits do nightly—he finds his loin cloth ready, the spoon with which he
ate his food, the bottle from which he drank, his battle axe and cross
bow which played havoc in many an affray; there is generally too a spread
of Indian corn or other food, which the thoughtful and sorrowing wives
have placed in readiness for his return visit to earth. How safe these
memorial tombs are from desecration may be gathered from the fact that
very frequently considerable sums of native currency are strewn upon the
floor. These little tombs are also surrounded with numerous carved images
erected on poles. The Baketi have another custom which is, I believe,
quite unique in West Central Africa. Outside every village are large
forest clearings covered with grass, and dotted over these meadow-like
lands may be seen the strange sight of trees rooted up and planted
upside down—the branches having been lopped off or the tree trunk cut
through the middle and planted with the roots in the air. The sight of
these clearings, involving a considerable expenditure of labour, covered
with scores—sometimes hundreds—of these symbolic monuments, is most
impressive.
[Illustration: THE “HEALING” FETISH.]
[Illustration: THE BAKETI MEMORIAL GROUND. TREES UPROOTED AND PLANTED
BRANCHES DOWNWARDS IN MEMORY OF THE DEAD.]
The Baketi have elaborate ceremonials at births and marriages. A special
house is always built for the birth of a child, the mother being conveyed
to the dwelling an hour or so before the expected time, as is likewise
the case with a dying person. Another curious custom which prevails
amongst these people, and strangely enough we found precisely the same
custom a thousand miles north amongst the Ngombe tribes of Bopoto, yet
nowhere in the intervening territories, forbids any young woman to
definitely enter into marriage relations until one end of the interior
of her house is closely packed with neatly cut logs of firewood! This
usually means about three hundred logs, measuring eighteen inches in
length and two feet in circumference. The idea appears to be that of
demonstrating the domestic capacity of the bride-elect.
With every West African tribe there are customs peculiar to the
individual community, but they are generally trivial, or variations of
customs prevailing amongst the surrounding tribes. Amongst Congo tribes
only the Baketi apparently possess customs so completely unique.
(_a_) CICATRIZATION
[Sidenote: CICATRIZATION]
Cicatrizing is practised more or less over the whole of West Central
Africa. In some parts like the Bangalla and Equatorial regions of the
Congo, the patterns are extremely elaborate and involve much patient
labour on the part of the artist and prolonged suffering by the
individual.
[Illustration: THE SWASTIKA CICATRICE.]
[Illustration: THE OYSTER SHELL CICATRICE.]
Cicatrizing is often confounded with tattooing, but the latter process
is entirely different, and is of course most largely in vogue amongst
the Maoris and seafaring men. The word cicatrization is derived from
the French medical term which designates the scars left by a healed
wound and implies a raised portion of the flesh, whereas tattooing is
an indentation coupled with the insertion of indelible dyes. Strangely
enough the Baluba tribes south of the Congo tattoo themselves, and in
this respect are unique in West Africa. Both men and women readily
subject themselves to the cicatrizing knife, but generally speaking women
are more liberally marked than men.
In the Bangalla regions of the Congo, the facial markings resemble the
surface of a coarse rasp, whilst the women content themselves with
large shell patterns on the lower part of the stomach. Along the main
Congo and some of the tributaries, the marking which finds most favour
is the “coxcomb” in the centre of the forehead; this is sometimes cut
quite deeply. The hinterland tribes of the Equatorial rivers almost
without exception adopt the oyster shell pattern just below the temple,
but the women, in addition, are prodigally marked with “knobs,” small
“oyster shells” and “bead strings” all over the body, particularly on
the thighs. Amongst the Batetela, the forearm is usually covered with a
pattern identical with the Cornish “one and all” motto, often also with
a sunflower pattern running from the navel up to the shoulder, sometimes
to the right, but more often to the left. In the Kasai territories there
is first the one general cicatrice imposed on the people by the historic
northern conqueror Wuta, a “white” chieftain of prodigious valour and
energy, who, apparently more than five hundred years ago, swept through
the whole region founding new dynasties and placing the tribes under
tribute of soldiers and money. This hustling personage, it is said,
reached what is now Rhodesia, but so great was, and is, the fear of his
spirit that everyone to-day bears his cicatrice. The Bakuba, Bashilele,
Baketi, Bushongos and Lulua, all bear their distinctive marks, many of
the women having the whole thigh covered with a “herring bone,” and
the men carrying a mark similar to the Grecian “key” pattern. In the
Portuguese Enclave and the Mayumbe territory of the Congo, the whole of
the back is frequently covered by a single pattern and on the back of one
woman we found a marking which is clearly the Swastika.
[Sidenote: THE ARTIST IN BLOOD]
The operation is, of course, distinctly painful. The subject sits on the
ground or on a log of wood, whilst the operator cuts deeply into the
flesh with the knife held at such an angle that a considerable wound
will result. Think of sitting still whilst this crude hand-made piece of
native steel is dug into the flesh something like twenty or thirty times
within half an hour! Once I was able to watch the process; the woman
desired a “lace pattern” made from the shoulder blades to the waist,
involving altogether four lines, which meant nearly two hundred cuts. She
sat outside her hut, and bending down slightly to stretch the skin, the
intended pattern was marked in chalk, and then the operator, taking his
small cicatrizing knife in his right hand, proceeded to grasp between
the thumb and forefinger of the left successive small portions of flesh,
gashing each till the blood flowed freely. Then he started the other side
of the body, returning again to cut the third line, and back to the
second to link the pattern up with the fourth.
I watched the woman closely, and as the knife dipped into the flesh she
made a grimace, but between the cuts, laughingly and with considerable
spirit replied to my comments. At the conclusion of the operation, she
calmly walked to the nearest tree and gathered a few leaves to wipe up
the blood which by this time was streaming down her body. The operator,
according to custom, threw over the wounds a handful of powdered camwood
which, however, has less antiseptic than drying properties.
[Illustration: CICATRICED WOMEN OF EQUATORVILLE.]
[Illustration: THE BANGALLA “RASP” CICATRICE.]
It is not easy to light upon such operations, which are generally carried
out more or less privately, and in all my years of residence in Africa,
this was the only occasion on which I have been able to watch throughout
an elaborate cicatrization. It is, however, a familiar sight to meet
natives with their bodies newly cut. On the day after the incisions have
been made the wounds swell and suppurate, greatly to the delight of the
hosts of insect life which swarm everywhere in Central Africa. These
surround the wounded body of the native and only by a continuous flicking
of grass or twig brushes can the suffering victim obtain even comparative
freedom from the tortures which every movement of the body imposes, but
in the course of a few months the pattern originally cut in the body
stands out firm and clear. In those cases where still more emphatic
designs are desired, the cicatrice will be re-opened and raised higher
still until the prominence is quite pronounced, in others, after a lapse
of a few months, still more lines and still more “knobs” will be added
until the age of twenty to thirty. After this the desire for adornment
ceases and the body rests from its tortures.
What is it that attracts? What power is it which buoys up the spirit
under these painful operations? What is the secret which gives this
insatiable desire for fleshy adornment?—a desire firmly rooted in the
breast of every section of the community and shared by young and old
alike. I well remember an orphan child, of about three summers, standing
in the roadway crying bitterly, and upon my asking the cause, she told me
that being an orphan no one had enough interest in her to cut a “coxcomb”
on her forehead. Secreting a small bottle of red ink, I told her to sit
on the table, and by a series of pinchings and finger-nail marks on
her forehead, coupled with a smearing of red ink over my white hands,
calmed the little mite into the belief that her heart’s desire was being
gratified. After about ten minutes she was supremely happy in the thought
that she too possessed a “coxcomb.” Her delight was unbounded, until the
little mischief caught sight of her natural forehead in a mirror!
[Sidenote: MARRIAGE AND TRIBAL MARKINGS]
No doubt the principal motive for this passion is the love of personal
adornment, of which the African assuredly does not retain a monopoly.
Hitherto the hinterland tribes have had no access to those artificial
aids to personal adornment, which are laid so temptingly before the youth
of civilization. They will tell you they have had no alternative but to
“adorn” their only garb—nature’s dusky skin, and none would deny, that
there is a certain beauty even in these barbarous forms of embellishment.
The critic may observe that the beauty of womanhood is obviously not
enhanced by the bold use of the cicatrizing knife, but I would remind
that critic that the wife without a body fairly well covered with
cicatrization finds but scant favour with the other sex. In Africa the
European youths of fashion have their counterpart, and in the direction
of the most daintily cicatrized maiden, are cast the most amorous
glances, and offers of handsome dowries to the admiring parents for the
hand of their captivating daughter.
Other reasons doubtless play a part, among them the question of tribal
ownership of wives, and the necessity of placing a distinctive and
indelible mark upon the body. Constant internecine warfare, too, demanded
a mark which would make easy the task of discriminating the warriors of
the respective combatants.
Patriotism, relationship and love of adornment, combine in giving to
the African the extraordinary fortitude which this prolonged operation
demands, but the disappearance of internal warfare, the increasing
importation of cheap jewellery and gaudy clothing, and the advance of
Christian civilization, is robbing this custom of its _raison d’être_,
and in another generation the little African boys and girls will only
learn from books of this curious custom of their grandfathers and
grandmothers, for cicatrization, as practised to-day, will have perished
within another twenty-five years.
(_b_) PERSONAL ADORNMENT
Left to nature, the African, dissatisfied with his personal charms, looks
about him for some means for adding adornment to his body. In the absence
of finely woven cloths and silks, he covers his person with ornamental
markings, and his woolly hair he makes to take the place of head-gear.
In two respects only his tastes accord with those of the European—metal
ornaments and rouge powder.
Most African tribes wear some cloth. The wild Ngombe on the southern
banks of the main Congo, skilled in ironwork but ignorant of weaving,
wear a vegetable cloth which they strip from the inner side of the
coarse bark of a forest tree. Many of their women content themselves
with only a few cicatrized patterns, and this is most noticeable in the
hinterland of Bangalla, north of the Congo. A peculiar feature, however,
is that all these women, though completely nude, wear a thin piece of
string round the loins. When photographing a group, I suggested the
removal of these strings, because they seemed to imply that normally a
cloth or leaf was thereby suspended; but the women, at this, to me, most
innocent suggestion, all became exceedingly angry and threatened to run
away. Finally, I managed to restore good relations, and we succeeded
in obtaining an excellent photograph. It was evident that some deep
significance attached to wearing this almost invisible cord, but what
that significance was I could not discover.
[Sidenote: HAIRDRESSING]
Hairdressing ranks almost equal in importance with cicatrization, and
practically any day the traveller passing through the villages may see
some native stretched lazily upon a mat on the ground, the head resting
on the lap of the hairdresser—generally one of the opposite sex. In
Spanish Guinea, and on the islands off Batanga, the style of hairdressing
is that of long plaits, sometimes a dozen in number, running out in
all directions from the top of the head. In French and Belgian Congo
the style most favoured is the helmet and in some cases the mitre form;
in these the hair is braided up until it adds apparently about five or
six inches to the stature. In many parts of the Cameroons, as well as
in French and Belgian Congo, the hair thus built up is covered with a
mixture of oil and camwood powder, and thus offers a solid protection
against the fierce rays of the tropical sun.
[Illustration: BANGALLA CHIEF WITH HEAD TIGHTLY BOUND FROM BIRTH.]
[Illustration: BANGALLA BABE WITH HEAD TIGHTLY BOUND.]
Amongst the Boela people of Bangalla, the custom prevails of binding
the crown of an infant’s head with tough cord soon after birth, and
this head-binding is maintained throughout life. The effect is that of
an elongated or sugar-loaf skull which is greatly emphasized when the
hair is prominently braided around it. We observed men of all ages with
their heads bound in this manner, but they did not appear to suffer any
discomfort, and the mental powers of the tribe were in no sense below the
average.
Rouge finds great favour in the personal adornment of the African.
The powder is obtained from the camwood tree, and in almost every
well-regulated household in the forest regions may be seen let into the
ground a log of wood some eighteen inches in diameter, while a piece of
smaller dimensions lies near at hand. The housewife, in order to obtain
the colouring, rubs—or more correctly grinds—one piece on the other,
which, with the aid of either water or oil, causes a thick red paste
to exude, which is then made into cones and placed in the sun. When
thoroughly dry, it is either pressed into a powder and sprinkled over
the body, or the person is anointed with a mixture of the powder and palm
oil; in either case imparting a bright red appearance.
In war times, at festivals, and on feast days, an enormous amount of
rouge is used, and the red bodies of the tribes are rendered extremely
grotesque by the addition of white clay markings which stand out very
clearly on the red background.
[Illustration: A FIVE FOOT BEARD.]
[Illustration: STYLES OF ARUWIMI HEAD-DRESS.]
For the most part the West African tribes extract all the hair from the
body with the exception of the head, the beard and moustache. The task is
almost a daily one, and in the case of a man is generally undertaken by
one or more of his wives. Little boys and girls submit willingly to the
removal of their eyebrows and eyelashes.
Brass anklets and necklaces are much prized by the natives throughout
West Africa. The Mongo tribes of the Congo wear anklets weighing
sometimes 10 pounds on each ankle, and the whole set of ornaments,
including the collar, will turn the scale at 35 pounds. In the Leopoldian
régime these valuable ornaments were a contributory cause to the
atrocities, for the rubber soldiery would always seek out the women in
possession of such anklets and collars, and, as they were welded on the
body, would not hesitate to chop off the foot, the hand, or even the head
in order to obtain the ornaments.
[Sidenote: THE PRICE OF ADORNMENT]
I once heard a neat retort from an African woman. The questioner was a
white lady who had been pointing out the pain caused by wearing these
heavy articles of adornment. The dialogue ran as follows:—
_White Woman_: Why do you wear anklets which cause you so much
pain? _African Woman_: Beauty is worth pain.
_White Woman_: Surely you do not suffer such torture in order
to appear beautiful?
_African Woman_: Tell me then, white woman, why do you suffer
pain by tying yourself so tightly in the waist, like a woman
suffering the pangs of hunger?
How far these simple customs should be checked has always seemed to me a
matter of doubt, but in the internal government of missions they cause
serious dissensions among the staff. Not a few missionaries, and some
government officials, seem to feel called upon to place these old-time
customs almost on the level of criminal offences.
In one mission no natives may sit down to Holy Communion with their hair
braided and oiled, nor may they enjoy the full privileges of Church
membership if they use camwood powder on their bodies; this is the more
outrageous when, within a few days’ canoe journey, there is another
Christian mission where one lady missionary at least is evidently well
acquainted with the use of delicately scented rouge. In another mission,
cicatrizing, the extraction of the eyelashes, men dressing the hair of
women or vice versâ, are sufficient to warrant suspension from Church
membership.
In all conscience there is enough that is evil in humanity, both white
and coloured, to make the decalogue sufficiently hard of attainment,
without human agencies arbitrarily introducing non-essentials which make
it grievous to be borne.
(_c_) “THE ANGEL OF DEATH”
[Sidenote: THE DEATH OF THE AFRICAN]
The wildness of the African hinterland, the frequency of bloody feuds,
the ever present unhealthiness, almost daily materializes the hand of
death. From the moment the traveller touches the coast of Sierra Leone,
he is never far from the tragedy of early and violent deaths, accounts of
which reach him at every port.
The native’s fear of death is immortalized in his many boat songs,
his legends and traditions, as well as in those elaborate systems of
fetishism which are used to ward off the imaginary proximity of Death’s
angel.
This was the feature of African life which so impressed Du Chaillu on his
first visit to West Africa. “Are you ready for death?” he sometimes asked
the natives. “No,” would be the hasty reply, “never speak of that,” and
then, says Du Chaillu, “a dark cloud settled on the poor fellow’s face;
in his sleep that night he had horrid dreams, and for a few days he was
suspicious of all about him, fearing for his poor life lest it should be
attacked by a wizard.”
Cursing in West Africa, which almost invariably takes the form of
invoking death upon some relative, is one of the most frequent causes
of trouble. A curse hurled at himself, the African merely resents, and
returns the compliment, but let a man invoke death upon another’s mother
or sister, and the dagger leaps instantly from its scabbard, or the spear
goes hurtling through the air with deadly precision.
“May you die” is the most common form of cursing, which brings the
sharp retort, “And you also.” The curses, “May the leopard catch your
mother,” “May the crocodile eat your sister,” call forth instant battle.
The explanation of this strong resentment and intensity of feeling is
found in the fact that the African firmly believes that when a curse is
pronounced the unfortunate person is thereby accursed.
No man ever goes on a journey, no matter how short, without a string
of charms about his neck, to ward off the grim form of death, which he
believes lurks in every forest, along every river, in every home. There
is one charm to protect from violent death through wild animals, there is
one to protect from death at the hands of strangers, but chiefest of all
is that little charm stuffed away in the ram’s horn, which is a perfect
safeguard against the death curse of strangers whom the traveller may
meet when on his way from village to village.
The traveller cannot escape the sorrow and despair of death which surely
is nowhere so marked as at the death of the African. For days, maybe,
the sufferer has lain without any perceptible change, either for better
or worse; then, perhaps, the watcher observes a sign which shews that
the end is not far off, and the word goes round the village that Bomolo
cannot live long.
Silently, one after another, the relatives creep into the hut and sit
upon cooking pots, mats, stools and logs of wood, until the hut is
filled with men and women knit together with a common sorrow. The strong
man they have remembered in the sylvan chase, the keen fisherman, or
possibly the courageous warrior they have known and admired, and in their
beautiful simplicity loved, is stretched upon the hard bamboo bed which
his busy hands had made. The watchers can see that it is only a matter
of hours and the general weeping is at first silent, occasionally ceasing
when the sick one speaks or calls for something. The nearer relatives rub
and bathe the limbs which begin to chill; one or two affectionately hold
a foot, a hand, or a finger; the favourite wife, as her right and duty,
tenderly nurses the head.
In proportion as the weakness increases, the crying becomes more audible;
then louder still the women cry, invoking all the spirits of the other
world to surrender their grip and restore to life and vigour their
beloved tribesman. Some momentarily cease crying and call to Bomolo to
“speak words of farewell,” and the fact that the dying man is unable to
reply is a signal for louder wailing still. At last comes the dreadful
moment when their friend ceases to breathe. For the space of a few
seconds, a breathless and awful silence prevails, whilst brother and wife
listen to the heart beat; then, with a terrible shriek which rends the
air, the wife cries, “He is gone!”
Words fail to describe this scene! How can the pen adequately portray the
bursting of the pent-up misery of these scores of relatives as, in their
agony, they twist and writhe in the dust. Wildly despairing, they grasp
in frenzy the corpse or the bed, and then releasing their hold, they
throw up their arms and again roll in the dust, not infrequently into the
log fire which smoulders on the floor of the hut, scattering the embers
amongst the tumbling and twisting mass of wailing humanity. What matter
those burning scars?—the frenzy of a terrible sorrow consumes reason and
chases into oblivion the pains of cut, bruised, scalded and burnt bodies.
[Illustration: THE WITCH.]
[Illustration: SLAVE GRAVEYARD ON THE ISLAND OF SAN THOMÉ.]
An hour later, the storm having spent its fury, the body is washed and
prepared for the grave, but the wailing still goes on rising and falling
in a monotonous cadence like the moan of a dying gale at sea. There is
no escape from that never-ceasing death wail until the body is buried,
which, in most villages, is generally within forty-eight hours. Then the
tide of weeping turns. A reaction sets in and the weird dancing to drive
away the evil spirits continues throughout the night, until mourners and
relatives revive sufficiently for the task of partitioning the wives and
other worldly goods of the deceased.
The death customs differ with almost every tribe. In the watershed of
the Lopori, Aruwimi and Maringa rivers of the Congo towards the Egyptian
and Uganda borders, the corpse is frequently hung for weeks over a fire
and thoroughly smoke dried. A similar custom prevails in certain parts
of the middle and lower Congo. The corpse, however, is dressed in the
best clothes and placed for a day or two in a life-like sitting posture—a
gruesome and unnerving sight for the passing European. A hut in which
a traveller was resting on his journey was seen to have suspended from
the roof a deep wicker basket, from which a dark round object protruded.
This, on inquiry, he found to be the head of a child whose body, after
being smoke-dried, was hung there by the mother that she might look upon
the features of her cherished infant. Amongst the Bakwala tribe, the
custom prevails of smoking the body of a deceased wife who may be the
daughter of a distant tribe, in order that she may be sent home and find
burial amongst her own people.
Some of the Bakuba tribes on the Kasai, before life is actually extinct,
seize the body, bundle it unceremoniously out of the hut, and then
raising it shoulder high rush off to a distant and unoccupied hut that
the spirit may there take flight, and not from the home which they
believe the spirit would henceforward haunt. It is there prepared for
burial, the whole village meanwhile gathering at the house of the
deceased to take part in the general wailing.
(_d_) PEACE AND ARBITRATION
Most African tribes set the civilized world an example in their unwritten
methods of preventing war, or, after war has been declared, of bringing
it to an early termination. If it were possible to exile the Foreign
Ministers of the Great Powers of Europe to the hinterland of their
respective colonies—Sir Edward Grey to remote Barotseland, Baron von
Kilderlen Waechter to the Sanga in German Cameroons, and Monsieur De
Sélves to the Ubangi—where they could divide their time between fishing
and studying the peace principles of barbarous tribes, I have little
doubt they would return to civilization with more practical ideas upon
peace than they will ever learn in the despatch encrusted offices of
London, Berlin and Paris.
[Sidenote: THE “PALAVER”]
The African detests war and will make great sacrifices to prevent the
outbreak of hostilities. The two principal causes of war are (1) land;
(2) wives. Slave raiding does not belong to the African; the Arab
imported it. Before war breaks out there is first the “palaver,” which
may last many days or weeks. In palaver the debates differ but little
from the parliaments of the world, except perhaps that custom keeps
womanhood out of general debates, although where the particular interests
of women are concerned, I have seen them throw themselves into the
debates in a manner no whit less collected and impressive than the men.
[Illustration: THE WITCH DOCTOR WITH HIS CHARMS FOR EVERY ILL.]
The African revels in debate, and possibly this accounts to some extent
for the admitted passion for litigation which now animates the civilized
centres of the African colonies. The orators of the primitive tribes are
no less masters of the art than their eloquent compeers at Lagos and
Freetown. I was once asked to visit a first-class palaver and found a
huge semi-circle of people closely massed together. Soon after my arrival
the chief took his seat and one could almost hear the policemen of St.
Stephen’s calling out, “Speaker in the chair!” for a similar signal was
given for the palaver to commence.
The chief, surrounded by his advisers, called upon the speakers in turn;
first to the right, then to the left, so that all sides might be heard.
The “palaver” had commenced about nine o’clock, and at mid-day sun only
four speakers had been heard. The fifth, who was an orator of some
repute, rose from his stool where he had been reclining, drank from the
calabash of water handed him by his wife, and then adjusting his loin
cloth and picking up his notes—a bundle of twigs as remembrancers of the
various points—he stepped forward. With an air of complete mastery of his
facts, he sped on quietly for the first quarter of an hour; at the close
of every period he turned to his supporters for approving applause,
which was given in a chorus of assenting “Oh’s.” From calm and reasoned
recital of facts, he then passed on to his deductions, and for another
quarter of an hour he drove his points home amid the now increasing
interest and applause of his own side and the derisive laughter of the
opposition.
At the end of half an hour, excitement was beginning to run high. The
orator now threw himself into a final effort; gathering up his facts and
deductions, he charged the other side with every species of deception
and fraud, and as he did so he danced to and fro with his body bathed in
perspiration. Every sentence now was punctuated by the almost frenzied
applause of his supporters. In his concluding sentences he made a fervid
appeal for justice, all the while moving backward towards his expectant
friends and wives. He uttered his concluding sentence with arms waving
aloft and then swooned into the arms of half a dozen wives who emptied
their calabashes over that quivering perspiring body. This man had
never read the trial of Warren Hastings, but I could not help recalling
Sheridan as the African orator lay there apparently in a dead swoon—I
knew of course that he was inwardly rejoicing in his great feat and
in the applause which awoke the echo and re-echo in the great forests
immediately behind us.
If this “full dress” palaver fails to secure an amicable settlement, the
tribes in the Congo basin do not abandon their efforts. They surround the
villages with sentinels and adopt various defensive measures, but before
hostilities actually begin, they select a sort of “daysman,” who, to
act in this capacity, must be of peculiar relationship to both tribes;
that is to say he must be able to claim parentage in both dissentient
communities.
The daysman goes forth wearing a fringed and partially dried plantain
leaf sash thrown over the shoulder so that the sentinels of both tribes
immediately recognize him and his sacred office. It is very seldom this
arbitrator fails to secure a peaceful termination of the dispute. If he
does fail and hostilities break out causing loss of life, he immediately
renews his efforts; indeed he never ceases that constant passing to and
fro on his errand of peace and goodwill.
[Sidenote: PEACE CONFERENCE]
The proposal to sheathe the sword, or, more accurately, to unstring
the bows and cleanse the poisoned arrow heads, is followed by another
palaver. It was once my good fortune to be invited to act as arbitrator
at one of these interesting proceedings.
The drums in all the surrounding country were beaten at cockcrow and
immediately the two tribes, under their respective chiefs and headmen,
began marching towards the rendezvous—a clearing in the forest outside
the village at which we were staying.
I was rather alarmed at the fact that though this was a peace conference,
every member of that great concourse carried not only spears, but bows
and arrows, and I knew that the slightest indiscretion would precipitate
a bloody fight.
All the old history was retailed again through that long and burning hot
day. Once or twice a speaker raised the devil in his opponents; spears
were gripped and arrows snatched from their quivers, but at last better
counsels prevailed and terms were agreed upon. The question at issue was
a boundary dispute, but lives had been lost and prisoners taken on both
sides. The boundary was readjusted to the apparent satisfaction of both
parties, prisoners exchanged and compensation paid for the killed on
either side—this latter surely an advance on “civilized” terms of peace
by the way!
The ceremony of “signing the peace” is not the least interesting part.
First a strip of leopard skin was secured and then a bunch of palm
nuts. The skin was pinned to the ground by a dagger, and each chief and
headman followed me in driving the dagger deeper into the earth. When
it was firmly fixed the leopard skin was drawn first one way, then the
other, until it had been completely severed. A half was given to a young
chieftain of each tribe, and they were instructed to “haste to the river,
young men, throw the separated skins upon the waters that all men may
know the quarrel is now cut in pieces (_i.e._, is destroyed).” This done,
the bunch of palm nuts was taken and a spear from each party driven into
the head of nuts. Two more men were selected, again from each tribe, and
instructed to “Carry that head of nuts carefully, young men, throw them
into the river that all men may know that our spear heads are buried,
that fighting is over and peace made for ever and for ever.”
In this exceptional case the “for ever and for ever” only lasted three
months! but in the great majority of such cases peace though threatened
is maintained for many a year.
V
THE NATIVE AS A MONEY MAKER
If the African woman is a prudent banker, the man is the money maker. The
range of remuneration they receive for their labour is no less divergent
than one finds in Europe. The Sierra Leone native will obligingly row you
ashore to Freetown in fifteen minutes “for two bob, Sah”; but his brother
paddler on the Chiloango, or the Congo, will paddle for you throughout a
week for 5_d._ a day, coupled with a plump bat or the leg of a monkey by
way of rations.
There is one form of money making which is fastening its fell grip ever
more firmly upon the middle-class African—money lending. It is extremely
difficult to deal with this question in West Africa by legislation, but
a good deal can be accomplished in various directions by a watchful
administration. One case brought to my notice was that of a cook who
was compelled to pay £2 10_s._ interest on a loan of £4 for six months.
Another one was that of a teacher who required a loan of £6, for which he
had to pay 12_s._ per month interest. I was also assured that frequently
10_s._ a month interest is exacted for small loans of £1. In some parts
of the Gold Coast borrowers find themselves in such straits that they are
often compelled to pawn their children.
[Sidenote: WAGES AND WIVES]
The wages of agricultural labourers vary very considerably. In Southern
Nigeria labourers working for native employers receive from 15_s._ to
20_s._ per month. The contracted labourers on the islands of the Gulf of
Guinea—that is Fernando Po, San Thomé and Principe—are all “contracted”
at paper wages, varying from 10s. to 15_s._ per month, but neither under
the Spanish or Portuguese Administrations do they receive more than half
their pay when it is due, the other half being placed in the hands of the
Curador. In German Cameroons the wage is seldom more than 10_s._ a month,
and more often the labourers only receive 8_s._ In the hinterland of
Belgian and French Congo, the unskilled labourer receives from 6_s._ to
8_s._ per month. All these wages are exclusive of board and lodging, but
generally a certain amount of clothing is supplied freely. In many parts
of the various colonies, however, stores are opened by the plantation
owners to tempt the labourer into purchasing goods which usually carry a
respectable profit.
The hardest work and the poorest pay falls to the carrier; that patient
burden bearer rarely gets, in any part of Africa, more than about 9_d._
per day for his heavy task. The Upper Congo was thrown open to the
advance forces of civilization by a continuous stream of carriers, who
occupied from a fortnight to three weeks reaching Stanley Pool from
Matadi, a journey for which they seldom received more than a sovereign
a load. “Big money,” however, is earned by the cocoa carriers of the
Gold Coast, but the conditions are entirely abnormal. The cocoa carrying
enterprise as at present organized cannot be other than a temporary
expedient and the general army of African carriers will have to be
content with a wage varying from 4_s._ 6_d._ to 7_s._ a week.
The African is by nature a trader, and no more honest than many Europeans
in his business transactions, and on the whole I am afraid less honest
than the reputable business houses of West Africa. It is only fair
to say that the native merchants trained under the rigid standard of
European firms—particularly the Basel Mission of the Gold Coast—maintain
a standard of honest trading which does credit to the firms under which
they received their commercial education.
The ambition of most young men on the Upper Congo is focussed upon wives.
Without earthly possessions, their only hope of matrimonial bliss is in
the death of a relative from whom they may “inherit” a partner, if there
is a disparity in age an “exchange” is always possible, subject, of,
course, to an additional dowry. But this chance is remote and the waiting
time is always long, tedious, and full of social complications. One
day a young man in the Congo endowed with more than the usual share of
courage and trading instinct, hit upon a plan which has for years found
increasing favour. The captains of steamers could only with difficulty
work their boats up and down that 2000 miles of waterway between Stanley
Pool and the great tributaries of the Upper Congo, for lack of wood fuel
from the forests. Here, then, was the chance for the enterprising native.
He bargained with the white man upon the following basis. To travel with
him to Stanley Pool and back again, a journey occupying four weeks, to
cut a square yard of wood every night on the journey, and to be allowed
to sleep during the day. The wages for this enterprise to be ten francs
payable at Stanley Pool, and the free transport back again of one bag of
salt and one box of sundries. This suggestion, sound in its common-sense,
giving the white man fuel without trouble, was promptly agreed upon,
and with ten others on the same terms the contract was confirmed. The
white man went to his bunk that night, happy in the thought that for one
journey at least he would be saved the eternal “wooding palaver.” The
native youths, too, went to sleep, and possibly dreamed of the wedded
bliss which was now so unexpectedly within sight.
Four weeks later the “Stern Wheeler” returned and put the respective wood
cutters ashore at their different villages, each with a bag of salt and
a few sundries purchased at Stanley Pool with the 10 francs. The eyes
of certain comely young African women shone brightly that night as they
heard of the brilliant enterprise of their prospective mates. A few days
later two or three parties in small canoes pushed away from the banks
and started on a ten days’ journey up one of the small tributaries which
abound everywhere on the Upper Congo. In each canoe were precious bags
of salt and a tiny spoon for retailing the “white powder” to distant
tribes. A fortnight later family palavers were held and a sufficient
dowry laid at the feet of the damsel’s father. The nightly wood-chopping
enterprise had produced 10 francs which had in turn obtained a bag of
salt, a hundred common safety pins and a cheap mirror. The salt and pins
had disappeared and there lay on the ground in their place the coveted
dowry of £2 sterling in native money for the father, and a mirror for the
mother of the native bride who now gladly joined her husband for better
or for worse. There is your African trading instinct!
Since that day many a young man has followed that example, but with
competition dowries have risen and the value of European produce fallen.
Nevertheless, to-day, many a native on the Congo waterways is cutting
firewood to and from the ports in the hope of raising the wherewithal to
obtain his heart’s desire.
It is said of the Indian coolie that anywhere he will make two blades
grow to the one blade the white man can produce. In this respect the
African follows hard on the heels of his Indian rival. The white man will
often select what seems a most promising piece of land, but for some
reason his crops fail. The native will choose a little out-of-the-way
patch and cultivate it in a style which calls forth a pitying, almost
contemptuous smile from the white, but somehow that native has struck
fertility and his crops flourish amazingly.
[Sidenote: AGRICULTURAL WAGES]
In Southern Nigeria I met several successful native farmers, who seem in
some respects to outdo their friends in the neighbouring colony of the
Gold Coast. One of these had some years ago bought 200 acres of land at
4_s._ per acre, and soon it was discovered that he had obtained a very
fertile patch and he was offered no less than £5 an acre and his crops
at valuation, but Mr. X. has a keen business head upon his shoulders and
finds it more profitable to cultivate cocoa, palm nuts and rubber than to
sell his land even at an enhanced price. Every time he makes a few pounds
he extends his plantation, “pulls down his barns and builds greater.”
This man has now a turnover of nearly £20,000 a year.
[Sidenote: THE KEEN TRADER]
There are scattered all down the coast in British colonies native traders
pressing on to positions of dominating influence. These men can handle
cargoes of four figures and pay at an hour’s notice. They receive regular
cable information of the prices of different commodities on the European
market, and several of them have branches which connect by telephone.
Most of them conduct their business on modern principles with typists,
cashiers, messenger boys and so forth. Not a few of them are frequently
in a financial position to strike a bargain and settle a transaction
before the European firm can get a cable reply from the home directors.
They are up-to-date traders in being able to supply anything which may
be demanded of them, or if not in stock they will promise it—and keep
the promise—on a given day. If an order is specially urgent and has to
come from Europe, a messenger will meet the ship, take off the package
and deliver it to the client within an hour or two of the ship’s arrival.
One of the most interesting transactions I know of occurred in a certain
British colony. A chief, for some reason, was in great need of a large
elephant’s tusk, and after fruitless endeavours to obtain one, a native
trader relieved the old man’s anxiety by offering to deliver a tusk
the required size, to cost about £80, within a month. Promptly to time
the tusk was delivered—the cute trader had cabled to Europe for it!
“Holts,” “Millers,” and other all-wise competitors in that town knew how
imperative it was that this old chief should have a big tusk, and I was
told they tried their “up country” stores, but it never occurred to them
to order from Europe. There again is the African trading instinct, which
put a clear £10 note in the trader’s pocket!
[Illustration: A NATIVE PLANTER IN HIS FUNTUMIA PLANTATION, SOUTHERN
NIGERIA.]
[Illustration: RUBBER COLLECTORS, KASAI RIVER, UPPER CONGO.]
The legal profession is beyond question the most lucrative in West
Africa, but this does not obtain in Africa alone. The mass of the people
have not yet learned to settle their troubles without the aid of the
legal community. The fees paid to the coast barristers are surprising.
I was informed that in one colony more than one native barrister has an
income of close on five figures. I had no reliable evidence upon this
and should think it an exaggeration, but the style in which the coast
barrister lives and moves must certainly require a substantial income.
Certain it is too that none are more generous with their money.
Unlike the medical profession, no colour-bar stands between the barrister
and the free exercise of his ability. Surely the position of these
medical men calls loudly for redress, the profession which, above all
others, is needed in the fever-haunted colonies of Africa, yet between
the increase of these men and the countless sufferers there is firmly
fixed the detestable colour-bar of prejudice.
Though the native has not yet become convinced of the safety of banking,
the sums placed by them on deposit in the three British colonies—Sierra
Leone, the Gold Coast and Nigeria, are nearly £80,000.
When we reflect upon these natives rising to positions of greater power
and influence in British colonies, and when we are prone to criticize
British administrations, it will not hurt any of us, either native or
European, to remember that less than a century ago these centres were
amongst the principal slave markets of the world.
VI
THE AFRICAN WOMAN
There is assuredly no country whose women are more interesting than those
of Central Africa. Certainly there can be no place on the habitable
globe where women are so continuously industrious. Amongst African women
there are no unemployed and no unemployables. In all the hinterland,
the women are the agriculturists. In the early morning, often before
sunrise, they file out of the village to their plots, perhaps a mile
away from the town, where there is always something to do; weeding and
planting being almost an integral part of the daily routine. When the
gardens have received attention, meals must be considered and the woman
proceeds to dig up the manioca tubers, but only to bury them beneath the
water in some forest stream or pool to extract the injurious element. In
a few days hence the load of sodden tubers will be ready for the native
culinary art.
[Sidenote: DAILY BREAD]
Ten minutes in the forest and the woman has gathered the fuel required
for her cooking; then loading her basket with the manioca left to
soak six days before, she places a layer of leaves between it and the
firewood, and shoulders her burden. She steps out brightly for home, in
company with perhaps another twenty matrons.
It is not every day that she is able to finish by noon, for in the
planting season the gardens demand her labour for whole days at a
stretch. Some weeks before the husband has perhaps started a new field
by cutting down at immense labour hundreds of trees, which lie there
scattered in all directions till the tropical sun dries up the leaves
and smaller branches. Then a torch at one end of the clearing starts the
whole area in a blaze.
It is at this stage that the wife comes along with her seeds and
cuttings, digging little mounds all over the area and raising the soil by
heaping upon it the cinders, dead leaves and ash, which provide the only
manure these primitive folk possess. Between the rows of manioca she may
plant gourds, Indian corn and ground nuts, and thus secure a general crop
all over her cultivated field.
From Sierra Leone right away to the north bank of the Kasai, these
domestic crops vary but little, but on arriving at the southern bank of
the Kasai, the change becomes very marked, for the extensive fields of
manioca and cassava give way to mealies as the staple food.
The field is the first charge, so to speak, upon the time of the African
woman, but to her belongs also the major responsibility for providing
the daily meals. The primitive African is almost a vegetarian, though he
dearly loves meat. Trapping edible fish is by no means frequent, and the
wife, knowing with her civilized sister how important it is to feed the
man, will often snatch an hour or two from her busy life and run to the
nearest stream and catch some “small fry,” with which to make savoury
the evening meal of cassava and pottage. In season she will hunt through
the forests for the caterpillars which abound on certain trees and which
by some tribes are regarded as great delicacies, particularly those
tribes inhabiting French and Belgian Congo and the Cameroons. The Gold
Coast people substitute large snails, of which they appear inordinately
fond.
There are four principal dishes which, with slight variations, prevail
throughout Western Africa:—
1. There is the staple food of manioca, which is sometimes boiled and
pounded into puddings, resembling a lump of glazier’s putty. Cassava or
sweet manioca is never soaked, but cooked fresh from the ground and is
much liked by Europeans.
2. The plantain, which is prepared in many forms by roasting, baking,
frying and boiling.
3. There is pottage, the body of which is composed of pounded leaves
from the manioca plant, closely resembling spinach. In most parts of the
tropics, green Indian corn is introduced freely into this dish.
4. There is the palm oil chop, which, as I have shewn in another part of
this book, is not a “chop” at all, but anything from a caterpillar or a
beetle to the leg of a dog or buffalo.
Perhaps next in importance to the position of agriculturist is that of
cook. Give the African woman a clay pot, a pestle and mortar and a few
leaves, and she will produce in quick time a meal which even a European
can relish. She is a trifle too fond of chili peppers and palm oil for
a sensitive palate and fully believes that a fair proportion of earth
and other etceteras add to the flavour and digestibility. Her husband,
with a natural weakness for chili peppers and oil, and himself not averse
to “foreign bodies” in his food, readily consumes nearly two pounds of
prepared manioca and pottage at a single meal.
[Sidenote: THE WOMAN IN THE HOME]
With cockcrow, the woman rises, steps outside the hut and in lieu of
washing herself, yawns two or three times, then stretches herself in
several directions, and is ready for the day’s work. She will first
sweep her hut, open the chicken-house, pluck a few dew-covered leaves
to wipe over the faces of the children, and then pick up her basket and
set out for the gardens. Returning, she will pull the fire logs together
and again shoulder her basket and go off to catch fish, or to hunt
caterpillars. Some of the older wives may stay in the village to fashion
clay cooking pots, weave baskets and mats, or crack palm kernels.
[Illustration: WOMEN POUNDING OIL PALM NUTS.]
About four o’clock, “when the monkeys in the forest begin to chatter,”
the women return to their huts and commence preparing for the principal
meal of the day. Above the hum of conversation, the passing jest, or the
humorous repartee, the clear ringing thud, thud, of pestle and mortar is
distinctly heard. Most dishes at some stage or the other are pounded. The
boiled manioca, the pottage leaves, the palm nuts, the plantains, all
find their way to the mortar, and no doubt the muscular physique of many
of the women is largely the result of the perpetual wielding of the heavy
wooden pestle.
The African woman is at home with any industry, hardly anything comes
strange to those deft fingers and muscular arms. The husband may go on
a journey by canoe, and his wife, or wives, will be there paddling
amidships and cooking the meals at intervals. The husband, however,
always takes the post of danger, which may be bow or stern, according
to the weather, the current, or the district through which they may be
passing.
Much has been written, backed by little knowledge, about the brutality of
man in making the woman carry the loads when on an overland journey. To
the uninitiated European, it may seem callous for a strong able-bodied
man to walk in front of a line of women every one of whom is struggling
along with a 50-pound load on her back. But make them change positions,
force the man to take the load, tell the women to walk in front, and
before you have gone many yards the women will all have bolted into the
bush, for the “Lord Protector” under a load is no longer ready to shield
them from the danger which lurks behind every tree and beneath almost
every leaf in the African forests. The African knows his business when
on a journey, and his first duty, from which no matter what the odds, he
never shrinks, is that of protecting his family from the ravages of wild
animals no less than the violence of hostile tribes. But to do this he
must be unencumbered and alert.
[Sidenote: WOMAN A MONEYMAKER]
The women of West Africa, by reason of their thrifty natures, are
frequently the bankers. To them the husband entrusts the keeping of his
worldly goods, and right sacredly they guard anything placed in their
keeping. Not only are the women trustworthy bankers, but as moneymakers
they are extremely keen. The finest business woman it has been my lot to
meet was a farmer woman of Abeokuta. This old lady could tell at sight,
almost to a penny, the value of a pile of kernels without weighing them.
I fell to discussing with her so technical a question as the possibility
of cotton in Southern Nigeria, and she was adamant in her opinion upon
this: “Unless they can guarantee me 1_d._ per pound for unginned cotton
and 4½_d._ per pound for the ginned, I would even prefer to grow yams.” I
gathered that on the whole she was not likely to become a shareholder in
any cotton producing company.
[Illustration: GRINDING CORN ON THE KASAI, UPPER CONGO.]
In the mart the women excel. It may be in the streets of Accra, Abeokuta,
Freetown, or in that finest of all marts in West Africa—Loanda, or
again in some wayside market of a tributary river in the far distant
hinterland. Wherever you find the market, the women are in control and
right merrily goes the auction. The din amounts to a pandemonium, the
tricks of the trade are to be looked for in every basket of fruit or
pile of vegetables. The eggs are probably old ones, carefully washed
and possibly doctored; that fowl tied by the legs could not walk from
sickness if it were free. Billingsgate, Smithfield, Covent Garden, rolled
into one could not be at once more entertaining, more noisy and more
novel than those African markets where you may buy almost everything you
want, and receive a great deal gratis that is not welcome.
THE AFRICAN WIFE
Is there any feature, social, political or religious so important in West
Africa as the wife and mother? No “teeming millions” are to be found
in the African tropics and every colony is crying out for more native
workers as the development of her industries gets beyond the fringe. As
a wife the African woman is generally but one of a number. In most coast
towns to-day the stress of modern competition has forced up the cost
of living, which together with the absorption of civilized ideas has
made monogamy—oftentimes, alas, only surface monogamy—the passport into
respectable society. But away from the coast towns, though it be only a
few miles away, polygamy is prevalent almost throughout West Africa.
Christian converts profess an abhorrence, and in many cases I am
satisfied a sincere abhorrence, of polygamy, but the fact remains that
this causes more trouble in the Christian Churches in West Africa than
all other evils put together. In the purely pagan areas there is no doubt
that the woman regards polygamy as a desirable condition; she argues
that the position of the husband is gauged by his many possessions—wives
and cattle, and that she prefers being the wife of a great man to that
of some insignificant fellow who can afford to keep but one! Again she
will point out, and with obvious truth, that if a man possesses several
wives, the burden of agriculture, of fishing, of kernel-cracking, and the
domestic duties spread over four, five or more persons is proportionately
lighter upon each individual.
[Illustration: A CHRISTIAN COUPLE RETURNING FROM THE GARDENS TOWARDS
SUNSET.]
[Illustration: WEAVING CLOTH IN THE KASAI, UPPER CONGO.]
Into the sentiment of polygamy there is also the practical consideration
of offspring. No matter how plain the daughters, no matter how slightly
cicatrized they may be, no matter what imperfections the boys may have,
if they are the children of a much married man they are certain to make
“good matches.” The sons may be certain of securing the daughters of
chiefs no less famous than their father; if a girl, her dowry will not
be her intrinsic worth, but will be gauged likewise by the position and
possessions of her father.
[Sidenote: INHERITED WIVES]
It does not seem to be generally recognized that there is both voluntary
polygamy and in a very real sense obligatory polygamy. A man inherits
wives from his father or uncle, just as he inherits other possessions.
In most cases of course he gladly accepts his inheritance. This, I know,
is a revolting custom to the European, but to the African not merely
desirable but the only honourable future for his father’s wives. His
own mother reigns as a sort of dowager Queen in the household and keeps
order in the harem of her son. I have often discussed this feature with
the women themselves and find that invariably they regard any other
course with the utmost repugnance. Why, they say, should they suffer the
disgrace of being passed on to other husbands; what evil have they done
that their rightful husband should disown them and refuse to accept them
as his wives? his father loved and cherished them, and why should the son
disgrace his father’s name by refusing to follow in his steps!
In one or two cases Christian men have actually put away wives whom
they have inherited in this manner, but the women concerned have always
felt that the shadow of disgrace has fallen upon them and that they are
outcasts from the social life of the tribe.
This custom, like most extreme polygamous concomitants, finds its fullest
development in the upper reaches of the Congo river, but it is also
found practically throughout the whole of the Congo basin.
[Sidenote: CHRISTIANITY AND POLYGAMY]
The general attitude adopted by missionaries in West Africa is that
of rigidly excluding the husband of more than one wife from Church
membership, and this no doubt accounts for the apparent lack of success
which statistics seem at first sight to demonstrate. Almost every
missionary, however, will point out to the traveller, man after man who,
though not a member of his church is, he declares, with a regretful sigh,
“more of a Christian than the majority of our members.” The German Basel
Mission in the Cameroons excludes all polygamists from Church membership
and they have been fortunate in obtaining King Bell as a monogamist
member. In the “oil rivers” of the Niger, the same rigorous position is
taken up by the missionaries.
In not a few churches in Southern Nigeria, polygamists are certainly
admitted to membership of the churches. These men if not openly
polygamous are notoriously so in private life.
The Christian Church has, in polygamy, a problem which at present
defies solution; the custom is so much an integral part of African life
that a conversion to Christianity involves an abrupt termination of
the convert’s former habits, the effects of which reach far beyond the
individual most intimately concerned. One of the greatest difficulties is
that of the outcast wives. In one Mission in Southern Nigeria if a man
becomes a Christian convert he is asked to call his wives together and
explain his position, then to select one, put the others away and provide
for their maintenance. But even this involves a sense of injustice and
is, I am told, fruitful in many cases of deplorable results. The women
thus set aside regard themselves not unnaturally as outcasts, as they
have lost the affection of their husbands and are therefore in disgrace.
In many cases, I am told, these women become either temporarily or
permanently the mistresses of other men who do not hesitate to taunt them
with the fact that they are outcasts from ordinary native society.
No doubt there are exceptional cases where women so put away find mates
amongst the bachelor members of the Christian community, but even these
young fellows—and more particularly their parents—are not always over
anxious to accept as a wife for their son the woman whom another man has
set aside.
The Honourable Sapara Williams, one of the ablest men in West Africa,
expressed the opinion that it is imperative the Christian Church should
find some other solution than exists to-day for this difficulty if it
is to maintain and increase its hold upon the native tribes of tropical
Africa. We see already a native Christian Community in Southern Nigeria
known as the African Church existing avowedly upon a polygamous basis
and growing rapidly in membership and influence. This Church is entirely
self-supporting and is becoming more and more propagandist. In the course
of time it may easily produce what will be called an “African Wesley,”
or an “African Spurgeon,” and the result we can foresee. The African _en
masse_ is inflammable material and intensely patriotic; let such a man
emerge from their ranks and the doctrines he preaches will spread like
wildfire.
It is universally recognized that in case of any modification of the
attitude now adopted by the European government of Christian Churches,
thousands of adherents would be secured in every colony. The heroic
attitude hitherto adopted surrenders to Mohammedanism a potent factor in
the propagation of its beliefs, hence the extraordinary advance made by
the apostles of the prophet.
There is evidence that the position maintained by the Christian Churches
as a whole upon this aspect of its work leads to widespread immorality
amongst Church members, but wherever it becomes too notorious, the
delinquents are, with certain exceptions, excluded from membership.
It will be readily seen therefore that should any single Christian
denomination once lower its standard in this respect, converts would
flock to it in thousands. The African Church does this, and springing
from the people themselves, meets the situation. Its members probably
represent the Christian natives of the near future in Southern Nigeria,
men for the most part commercially successful, boldly solving their own
problems, living an easy-going and comfortable life, their religious
standard lowered to their own desires. Can we criticize them? If we do,
we must beware, for they will tell us that it is more honest to live open
polygamous lives than the fraudulent lives of professing Christians—white
and black—whose hypocritical attitude, particularly on sex questions, is
a by-word on the West Coast of Africa. I fear there is too much truth in
this retort. White men, at least, must hold their peace, and there lies
the greatest danger!
[Sidenote: POLYGAMY AND THE BIRTH RATE]
It is generally accepted that polygamy is productive of a high birth
rate, and Sir William Muir has given this as one reason for the almost
miraculous advance of Mohammedanism. It may have been, and may still be
true to-day of Mohammedanism that polygamy produces a high birth rate,
but that existing polygamists in tropical Africa to-day produce a greater
number of births than monogamists is, I am satisfied, open to serious
question. At the same time I think it is clear that prior to European
occupation, polygamist Africa maintained a higher birth rate than is
possible under modern conditions.
The reason for this is not far to seek, for the chiefs, possessing as
they did unrestricted power over the community, could terrorize into
complete submission every unit of the tribe. Wherever polygamy existed
the wife was kept faithful to the one husband by the knowledge that
unchastity was forthwith rewarded by instant death. The young men also
knew that a _liaison_ meant either that they were sold into slavery,
involving in all probability ultimate sacrifice, or they would be hanged
on the nearest tree.
This is so even to-day amongst those tribes beyond the reach of white
men. One day, when crossing towards the main Congo river, I suddenly
heard wild shrieks from a person evidently in great danger. Rushing to
the spot, I found a woman bound hand and foot, and standing over her was
a burly young chief with an executioner’s knife raised aloft. In a moment
more that woman’s head would have been hacked off had I not promptly
gripped the man’s arm. With a terrible oath he attempted to spring upon
me, but the headmen of the village, who had also hurried to the scene,
fell upon him and wrenched the knife from his hand. For a quarter of an
hour nothing would stay the man’s fury; it took six of us to hold him.
Ultimately, however, he calmed down and explained to me that his wife had
been unfaithful and that she merited the death penalty. I gave him some
presents to appease him further and he agreed to forgive the woman if I
would “reward him.” As the gift he asked was to me a trivial matter, and
the only chance of saving the woman’s life, I gave it to him. The woman
herself, in gratitude, at once wrenched from off her wrists a bracelet
which she presented to me as a keepsake. I fear, however, that after I
left the village, she suffered a cruel death for her unfaithfulness. It
will be readily seen that these conditions are only possible in regions
where there is no restraining hand.
The question of the birth rate under monogamist and polygamist marriages
in West Africa has always been of absorbing interest to me and my diaries
are full of jottings bearing upon the subject, but very few are worth a
permanent record. Amongst the Christians of Accra many monogamists have
considerable families and from personal observation twins appeared to be
fairly frequent. In the hinterland, we were informed, that the “baku”—or
tenth child—is by no means rare amongst the “Twi” people. The largest
family we found amongst the monogamists of the Bangalla region of the
Congo was five children, the average appearing to be three. But West
Africa is very weak in reliable statistics.
In our recent journeys, I selected four areas and obtained with some
accuracy the composition of several groups of villages. It was
impossible to accept the figures from some districts because the people,
fearing there was some subtle move behind our requests, either gave
evasive replies or figures which were obviously inaccurate.
The following six groups, however, are reliable. They were gathered from
areas hundreds, and in one case over a thousand miles apart:—
Average Average Average
woman Offspring. per per
Men. Women. per man. Boys. Girls. Total. man. woman.
_Five Hinterland Villages of the Kasai._
A 241 316 1.315 70 81 151 0.626 0.477
(201 monogamists)
_River-side Villages on the Upper Congo._
B 26 45 1.875 14 15 29 1.115 0.644
C 41 54 1.317 5 4 9 0.222 0.166
D 16 42 2.625 10 6 16 1 0.380
_Hinterland Village, Upper Congo._
E 31 69 2.225 23 20 43 1.387 0.623
_Remote Hinterland Village, Upper Congo._
F 196 319 1.627 171 148 319 1.627 1
In group “C,” the principal polygamist possessed fifteen wives, but only
two children. Sixteen monogamists had no children.
Group “A” is taken from the Kasai, where monogamy most widely prevails,
but of the two hundred and one monogamists, one hundred and three had no
children. The principal polygamists possessed six, eight and thirteen
wives respectively. The two first had no children at all and the chief
with thirteen wives had two boys and three girls.
From these figures no deduction is possible as to the advantage of either
polygamy or monogamy upon the question of birth rate. One deduction only
is clear.
The birth rates in the following order are with estimated distance from
effective civilized Government:—
Average birth-rate Distance from effective
per woman. civilized Government.
Group C 0.166 10 minutes’ walk
” D 0.380 30 ” ”
” A 0.477 1 hour’s ”
” E 0.623 1 ” ”
” B 0.644 1½ ” ”
” F 1 2 days’ ”
The birth rate figures are lamentably low, and being selected from areas
so widely apart give anything but an encouraging indication for the
future of the Congo. The deductions from these figures is unmistakable
and only confirms what one hears everywhere, not only in the Congo but
all over the West Coast of the utter demoralization which is flooding
these territories.
The Congo is by far the worst. Europe was staggered at the Leopoldian
atrocities and they were terrible indeed, but what we, who were behind
the scenes, felt most keenly was the fact that the real catastrophe in
the Congo was desolation and murder in the larger sense. The invasion
of family life, the ruthless destruction of every social barrier, the
shattering of every tribal law, the introduction of criminal practices
which struck the chiefs of the people dumb with horror—in a word, a
veritable avalanche of filth and immorality overwhelmed the Congo tribes.
[Sidenote: THE ONLY HOPE]
To-day one sees the havoc which King Leopold created when he let
loose upon the Congo tribes the scum of Europe. None have escaped the
infection; girls of tender years and even boys not yet in their teens
delight in practices of which in the old days the chiefs would have
kept them in complete ignorance for another five years. Upon the women
the results have been by far the most revolting, for in the Congo the
majority of women have lost their womanhood and have fallen into a daily
condition from which even the beasts of the forest refrain.
The truth is that in the greater part of West Africa neither monogamy nor
polygamy is the prevailing relationship between man and woman. Doctors,
administrators and missionaries all know it, and are all powerless at
present to bring the situation under control. It is useless for the
administration to make laws for practices beneath the surface, the only
thing the officials can do, and should do without delay, is to see to
it that an ever higher example is set to the natives. This is where the
Belgian and French Congo officials have failed so utterly.
The Christian missionary alone touches the evil, and though he is
defeated again and again, he plods steadily on preaching a perfect
chastity—too lofty a standard for most natives at present—but without
doubt gathering round him an ever increasing number not only of men but
of women who, apart from occasional lapses, set a bright example to the
whole countryside.
[Sidenote: MOTHERHOOD]
The birth of children is in primitive Africa rarely attended by anything
abnormal. If a native nurse is confronted with complications, she
immediately throws up the case in despair and appeals to the witch
doctor, but normally the birth of children is taken as quite an ordinary
part of the daily life. One day we were passing through a native village,
and there, lying on a plantain leaf, were two chubby little twin girls
but half-an-hour old; the mother was sitting close by “resting.” This
picture was so beautifully simple that my wife went with a boy to bring
up the camera and plates, but on arriving at the spot in about twenty
minutes the woman had picked up her twins and carried them home! That is
primitive Africa, but in the coast towns where African womanhood delights
in corsets and other European follies, the suffering at childbirth is in
many cases almost as acute as that amongst the European community. With
several Congo tribes, the belief is firmly rooted and put into practice
that in order to change the colostrum flow to that of milk, co-habitation
is essential.
With many tribes throughout West Africa, the period of lactation is
prolonged; frequently the mother nurses the child until it is two, three,
and even four, years old. A case of adultery was brought before the
District Commissioner’s Court at Ikorodu in Southern Nigeria in April
last year, and in the evidence it came out that the accused woman was
suckling a child four years of age. The District Commissioner ordered her
to cease nursing the child within three months.
The death rate amongst the young children in West Africa is very high and
no doubt arises from the deplorable manner in which they are brought up.
There is practically no attention given to diet or cleanliness, with the
result that any disease which attacks a family quickly spreads through
the community.
Amongst the Dagomba of the Northern territories of the Gold Coast colony,
the woman who has given birth to a child leaves her husband’s compound
and goes to that of the father-in-law, taking the child with her, where
they stay for a year. At the end of this period the wife and child return
to the home of the husband and father.
TWINS
[Sidenote: TWINS]
It is a mistake to assume, as some writers do, that the taboo on twins
is a prevailing custom amongst West African tribes. The distribution
of the taboo is extremely erratic. Twins are unwelcome in the Northern
territories of the Gold Coast, yet the reverse is the case amongst the
Egbas of Nigeria. In the Congo territories, twins cause the greatest joy
to a tribe and the mother is lauded wherever she goes, whilst amongst the
tribes of the oil rivers of Nigeria, the birth of twins is regarded as
the most fearful calamity which can fall upon the community.
In the Upper Congo regions, the traveller may frequently see two
earthenware pots hoisted on forked stakes which have been driven in the
ground, one on either side of the path, and these are in honour of twins
born in the nearest compound. Every person passing by those pots will
religiously pluck two leaves and throw one at the foot of each forked
pole as a votive offering to “Bokecu” and “Mboyo,” as all good twins are
named.
The tragedy of the oil rivers is one of the most distressing in West
Africa. Throughout the Eastern, and to a considerable extent of the
Central Province, the cruel custom prevails of putting to death one,
sometimes both twins. The British Government spares no pains in the
effort to combat and overcome these practices, but though much good has
resulted, the custom still holds its own.
Not only are the children killed, but the mother is immediately
driven from home for she is no longer regarded as a chaste woman and
rapidly becomes an outcast from Society, living upon the proceeds of
prostitution. In some districts, however, this custom is less rigorous,
and the mothers of twins are allowed to form isolated villages and to
engage in trade. Some tribes, again, whilst driving them from the homes
of their husbands, permit them to engage in agricultural pursuits upon
the husband’s lands.
The missionaries are doing much towards weaning the tribes from this
murderous practice. One missionary society working amongst the Ibunos,
a tribe of five thousand people, claims that through the conversion to
Christianity of a large section of this tribe, the horrible practice of
murdering the twins and making the women outcasts has ceased. It is of
course difficult to control absolutely a statement of that kind, but it
is only the Christian missionary who can hope to deal effectively and
permanently with a subterranean evil like twin murder.
[Illustration: “TWIN POTS” HOISTED ON FORKED STICKS EITHER SIDE OF
PATHWAY, IN HONOUR OF NEWLY BORN TWINS, BANGALLA, CONGO.]
An interesting custom which survives in the Upper Congo is that a man
may never see or speak to his mother-in-law, and should he by accident
turn a corner in the village compound and meet her face to face, he must
at once send a propitiatory offering. If she should come into the house
where he is sitting, he will promptly raise a mat and hold it between
them, so that they may not see each other.
On the whole the lot of the African woman is a hard one. She has her
occasional pleasures it is true, but from childhood hers is a lifelong
drudgery with, however, the one sure recompense, that in old age it is
the joy and the privilege of the younger generation to support her.
PART II
CIVILIZATION AND THE AFRICAN
I.—The White Man’s Burden.
II.—Lightening the White Man’s Burden.
III.—Governments and Commerce.
IV.—The Liquor Traffic.
V.—The Educated Native.
VI.—Justice and the African.
VII.—Race Prejudice.
I
THE WHITE MAN’S BURDEN
There is a type of African traveller who, hurrying to the coast and
back again, returns with all the assurance of a long experienced person
to pontifically declare that the unhealthiness of West Africa is all
moonshine, that if a man dies it is due to his excesses rather than to
the climate. There is, of course, a grain of truth in this assertion;
cocktails, midnight oil and habits of a worse type, undermine the
constitution in a manner which leave little resistance to the climatic
diseases. Yet after all, tropical Africa is a death-trap.
Some of these assertive and incredulous persons have themselves been
badly punished for their advertised temerity. The story goes of one lady
who, after having published much nonsense on this subject, was bundled
off home in an ice pack! I know one man who, after a year or two of good
health, gave rein to his opinion in the columns of the _Times_; this
good man was no believer in short and effective service, followed by a
well-earned period of leave; he advocated long terms of residence as the
certain road to immunity; that man spent a single term in Africa, towards
the close of which the climate made such inroads upon his constitution,
that he was never allowed to return.
Those who feel inclined to trifle with and ridicule the dangers
attendant upon life in Africa should spend a solid year in some lonely
post directing a staff not always amenable to discipline; should live
in that comfortless bungalow; should endeavour to tempt the appetite
day after day with something from a tin which, no matter what it is
called, invariably has the same taste. Then probably a fever intervenes
and the lonely resident goes to bed with limbs racked with pain and a
head throbbing like the puffing of an express train. By this time the
supercilious writer would be brought to know that after all, the climate
of West Africa is not that of the Swiss lakes or the Austrian Tyrol.
[Sidenote: THE STORY THE GRAVEYARDS TELL]
It may be a melancholy undertaking, but all whites going to West Africa
should brace themselves to the duty of visiting the cemeteries. What a
story the graveyards of West Africa tell! The fair young lives laid down
for the comfort of posterity. Men of all walks in life are there—the
official and the trader, pitiably aloof in daily life, now lying side by
side; they are there from every profession and trade, the engineer and
the miner, the planter and the doctor, the young wife and perhaps the
new-born infant. Africa—always cruel—has taken them in the very flower of
their manhood and womanhood.
On the Gold Coast I one day walked into the cemetery and standing in
one spot recorded the ages inscribed on twenty-seven of the surrounding
tombstones; the oldest amongst the deceased was only forty-six years, and
amongst the youngest, two had succumbed at the early age of twenty-two.
The average was exactly thirty-two years. Not a few had inscribed upon
the tombs such information as, “After two days’ illness.” “After only
three weeks in the colony.” “After three days’ illness.” “Died on the way
to the coast,” and so forth.
One interesting feature about this cemetery is that it is enclosed with a
stone wall, about four feet high, and all white men may be buried within
the compound, as also respectable natives—respectability, so my native
guide informed me, being determined by church-going. Natives, therefore,
who were not attendants at church, were buried “outside the wall.”
Looking over I could see some scores of graves of natives who, not having
attended church in life, were divided in death from the church-goers by a
foot of stone wall.
Merchants and missionaries would do well to watch more closely the
mortality returns of Government publications, for there alone may be seen
recorded the effect of furloughs on the health of Europeans. In the slow
moving times of twenty years ago, men went to the coast for long periods,
and many a missionary and merchant stayed until he died. Government
officials, too, were kept at their posts until death carried them off, or
they were invalided beyond the possibility of a return. It is instructive
to note that mortality is much lower among Government officials, arising
beyond question from the fact that they serve short periods, generally of
one year only, and then take a furlough in Europe. For many reasons the
figures for the years 1901 and 1910 may be regarded as average records.
The death-rates among the whites in the two colonies of the Gold Coast
and Southern Nigeria, showing a remarkable improvement, are as follows:—
Southern Nigeria. Gold Coast.
Death Rate. Death Rate.
1901.—Officials 24 per 1000 34.96 per 1000
Non Officials 47.1 ” ” 56.30 ” ”
1910.—Officials 6 ” ” 11.41 ” ”
Non-Officials (not available) 16.52 ” ”
Most merchants argue that they cannot afford to bring their men to Europe
for short furloughs every year, but one or two good houses are making
the experiment with not a little satisfaction to themselves in more than
one direction. In the first place a better type of man offers for a
short agreement, and then there is the consideration that by preserving
the lives of those they have trained, merchants thus avoid the constant
re-equipment of new men, the cost of which is very considerable. Nor is
the financial aspect the only feature which is proving satisfactory.
These merchants find that they reap great commercial advantages over
their competitors by being able to hold more frequent consultations with
their men. After all, the incidence of cost in connection with passages
to and fro is comparatively insignificant on the whole expenditure of the
far-reaching commercial enterprises of West Africa.
To preserve the white man’s life in Africa, other elements are equally
essential. The dwelling-house, recreation and provisions are features
sadly neglected by the majority of whites.
[Sidenote: AN AFRICAN HOME]
There is so much monotony, so much to irritate and to depress in West
Africa, that everything Governments and merchants can do to brighten
the lives of their employés should be done. The prettiest and happiest
of homes are without doubt in German and Portuguese colonies. In both
cases it is due, to a very large extent, to the fact that these nations
give every encouragement to the taking out of white women, whose very
presence, flitting to and fro in the essentially light garments of
the tropics, give more than a touch of poetry to surroundings already
anything but prosaic.
[Illustration: WILD FLOWERS GROWING ON TRUNK OF FOREST TREE.]
[Illustration: “THE STORY THE GRAVEYARDS TELL.”]
The Portuguese love of a garden adds to the attraction of their homes;
grape vines are tastefully grown where the Englishman would throw sardine
tins; there is a fernery in one corner of the garden, a rose bower in
another, luscious fruits and tempting vegetables grow everywhere in
exquisite profusion.
The Germans in Cameroons set aside a colonial fund called the “Widows and
Orphans Fund,” and I am told it is from this capital account that men
draw subsidies with which to take their wives to West Africa!
One of the prettiest incidents I ever saw in West Africa was at Victoria
in the German Cameroons. The planter came galloping home from the
plantation, and giving a whistle to announce his return, a daintily
dressed little matron skipped out lightly to meet him, and arm in arm
they walked into a charming little bungalow gay with fern and flower.
A few minutes later I passed by the open door and caught a vision of a
snowy table cloth, bright with polished silver and glass. I could not
help contrasting this with the British factories with their more or less
dilapidated dwelling-houses, most of them very dirty, and the general
atmosphere in keeping with the slatternly black woman leaning against
the cook-house door.
Recreation in some more healthy form than cocktails and billiards is of
no less importance than the well-ordered house. In many colonies now
there are golf and cricket clubs, but these are only possible in the more
civilized towns where there is a considerable congregation of whites. The
man who suffers most from fever and despondency is the one stationed at
some isolated post of the hinterland. Happy, indeed, is the man with a
knowledge of, and love for, a garden; it will keep his mind calm, provide
him with healthy exercise, and a supply of fruits and vegetables which
will keep him in good form for his daily routine.
Given a good home, sound mental and physical recreation, short periods
of service with proportionately shortened furloughs to Europe, the
white man’s burden in Africa, to which so many succumb to-day, would be
materially lightened, and both white men and women could go forth with a
fearlessness which, tempered with care, would largely remove from West
Africa the stigma of “the white man’s grave.”
II
LIGHTENING THE WHITE MAN’S BURDEN
Thanks to Mr. Chamberlain, a great stimulus was given to the work of
rendering the burden of West Africa somewhat lighter. At his inspiration
men began to study more seriously the question of dwelling houses, the
use of medicines, and the supply of fresh food.
Sir Alfred Jones, Messrs. John Holt and Messrs. Burroughs & Wellcome,
have each in their respective spheres spent large sums of money
experimenting in various directions, in the hope that science applied to
the practical side of daily life and travel would ameliorate, if it did
not remove, the distressing effects of malaria.
The trader of twenty years ago lived—but more frequently died—in a wattle
and daub house. These I know from experience can be made comfortable, but
more often than not they are so damp and insanitary that fever may be
looked for every few months. Inside two and a half years, I experienced
no less than seventeen fevers, the majority of which were I am convinced
entirely due to the wretched habitation in which we lived.
To-day few men live on ground floors, for the mud or bamboo house has
given place to the airy bungalow fashioned on brick piles, permitting a
current of air to pass beneath which keeps the house dry and sanitary.
It also has the not inconsiderable advantage that snakes and other
reptiles which abound in the tropics do not so readily find a lodging
as in the mud and sun-dried brick houses of the earlier days. Another
improvement which is yearly growing in favour is that of gauze doors and
windows which give some protection from the torment of mosquitos and
tsetse flies.
On the island of Principe, the doors and windows of almost every house
are fitted with gauze, the object of which is to prevent the spread of
sleeping sickness which has of recent years overwhelmed that island. The
germ-impregnated fly is nowhere in Africa so numerous and vicious as upon
that wretched Portuguese island, where few of a ship’s passengers care
to land, for the risk of becoming inoculated with sleeping sickness is a
very real one. Whilst on that island we had to keep an extremely vigilant
watch upon the terrible tsetse flies which gave us no peace, so anxious
were they to taste our blood. The fly, which is found in most parts of
West Africa, is most prevalent in the Bangalla region of the Congo and
on Principe Island. In the latter place they literally swarm. There is
no buzz to warn of their approach, and usually the first intimation the
traveller has of their presence is the sharp stab, followed by acute
irritation and swelling. In spite of the precautions taken on Principe,
there seems very little hope that the population can be saved from this
terrible scourge. In one month (June, 1910), out of a population of 4000
souls, no less than fifty-six perished from sleeping sickness; that is at
the rate of 168 per 1000 per annum. No wonder the Portuguese population
is leaving the doomed island.
[Sidenote: MOSQUITO-PROOF SHIPS]
An experiment which is being watched with keen interest is that recently
made by Messrs. John Holt & Company. The directors of this enterprising
firm have recently placed two insect proof ships on the West African sea
and river journeys. The first of these, the “Jonathan Holt,” was launched
in July, 1910. This vessel was constructed largely under the advice of
the Liverpool School of Tropical Medicine, and the object was that of
rendering the passengers and crew immune from the germ carrying mosquito.
The “Jonathan Holt,” the first of the type ever built, is about 2500 tons
and with a dead weight capacity of 2350 tons. She draws only 17 feet 6
inches of water, which permits navigation on the river Niger and also
allows her to reach Dualla, the capital of German Cameroons.
The doorways, portholes, windows, skylights, ventilators and passages
are all protected with mosquito gauze frames easily adjustable. Double
awnings are provided and everything which human forethought can do to
render the ship proof against the mosquito has been done.
To Messrs. Burroughs, Wellcome and Co., every African traveller
owes a debt of gratitude. The excellence and portability of their
tabloid-preparations have gone a long way to minimize the dangers of
tropical adventure. During our travels of over 5000 miles we carried with
us a medical outfit which left nothing wanting, either for ourselves or
for our paddlers and carriers. For fever, for cuts or bruises, or other
inevitable ailments of the tropics everything was at hand; nothing was
lacking for the whole caravan and yet the total outfit weighed less than
twenty pounds! How great a difference a Burroughs, Wellcome portable
outfit would have made to Livingstone’s hard life. We carried another
case of “tabloid” photographic materials, and with these developed nearly
a thousand plates. The whole outfit, both medical and photographic, was
easily carried by one boy.
It may seem strange to the European that African travellers and writers
lay so much stress upon the question of food supply. West Africa for
years exacted a terrible toll from her white residents, which might have
been to a great extent minimized had they been able to provide themselves
with palatable fare. The late Sir Alfred Jones determined to do something
to make the life of the African merchants and officials more comfortable
in this respect. He fitted out a few ships with refrigerators and began
in a small way to send some of our staple articles of diet to the leading
ports of the coast. Men and women too, sick almost unto death, unable to
eat the coarse bread, the tasteless fish, or the tinned mixtures, were
then cheered and in numberless cases restored by the timely arrival of an
Elder Dempster boat with sterilized fresh milk, eggs, chicken and mutton.
[Sidenote: FISH, FLESH, AND FOWL]
Only too well do we remember those days, fifteen years ago, when once on
board the ship at Liverpool, the travellers said good-bye to European
diet. How different the case now! Directly the ship casts anchor,
coloured messenger boys, and more often the white men, come on with
orders for beef and mutton, eggs and milk, chicken and sausages, even
game and fruit. It is a great day when Elder Dempster’s boats steam
into port, hurried invitations go out for dinner and luncheon parties,
and once a month at least the pale-faced commercial agent or the anæmic
government official is able to enjoy a meal or two which puts new life
into his tired body.
Over and above the provisions for the passengers on the steamer, each
ship will now carry for sale—beef, lamb, mutton and kidneys; pheasants
and other game; eggs, sausages, fresh butter and sterilized milk;
potatoes, carrots and onions; kippers, bloaters and salmon; grapes, pears
and apples—a veritable combination of shops, butcher, dairy, greengrocer,
fishmonger and fruiterer!
Usually each ship will carry for sale from 1000 to 2000 lbs. of beef, a
couple of thousand eggs, three or four hundred pounds of butter, five
hundred blocks of ice and three hundred pints of milk. Festive seasons,
too, are not forgotten and Christmas boats carry a large stock of turkeys
and geese.
Think for a moment what a blessing the monthly visit of a ship like this
is to such foodless places as Boma and Matadi in the Congo, the island of
Fernando Po, the isolated merchant houses of Rio del Rey, or the ports of
Spanish Guinea;—the drawn and sickly faces of the men who come off for
provisions tell their own tale. They can not only buy all they want, but
at a reasonable price. The Belgian in the Congo buys beef cheaper than
he can in Antwerp, _i.e._, 10_d._ a pound. Lamb and steak he can get at
1_s._ per pound. The Scotch engineer running his steamer up and down the
Ogowé can get a whole box of Aberdeen haddies for 5_s._, or salmon at
2_s._ a pound. Ice can be purchased at 2_s._ 6_d._ a half-hundredweight
block. Potatoes and onions at 9_s._ a case.
This enterprise of Sir Alfred Jones has already developed into the
creation of cold storage companies at ports like Lagos, Calabar and
Seccondee, and the firm of Elder Dempster has now built chambers on some
of their ships capable of carrying twenty tons of European provisions
every week to Seccondee alone. The health of West Africa, bad though it
is, has greatly improved within recent years, and though, of course,
the medical profession has so largely contributed to the change, the
house-builder, the merchant and the ship-owner have loyally co-operated
in an endeavour to lighten the burden of the white man in West Africa.
III
GOVERNMENTS AND COMMERCE
Nothing in West Africa is more striking than the attitude adopted by
the several colonizing Powers towards commerce. At present, Germany is
easily in the front rank; her policy towards business men is the most
enlightened of any Power, and it is therefore to be the more regretted
that her treatment of the natives is not equally far-sighted. Were it so,
all students of African questions could view with equanimity her gradual
absorption of the whole of Equatorial Africa.
The British merchant knows with absolute certainty that he may rely
on receiving a warm welcome and every assistance in German colonies.
He knows, too, that none will be given a preference before him. He
knows that if “public good”—the stick which governors so frequently
wield—demands the removal of his factory, or that a road must be
driven through his ground, the German Government will not quibble over
doubtful legal points, but will look at the question on broad lines of
common-sense policy.
Steam into a German port, and before you cast anchor you may see the
customs and health-officers with their launches racing across the
intervening stretch of sea. Promptly and smartly the doctor steps up
the companion-way, and you begin unloading your cargo without further
formalities. Your cargo finished, there is no delay about papers, no
irritating objections about the closing time of the customs, or the
doctor being at dinner or more likely, tennis. Contrast this with a
visit to a French or Portuguese port—you may wait an hour before the
health-officer comes on board. His visit over, the ship’s officers and
native crew slave throughout the day to unload the cargo, so that they
may have the valuable night watches for steaming to the next port, but if
the Frenchman can by any quibble keep you tossing at anchor, you may rely
upon his doing so.
The German neither likes nor dislikes the British merchant: he is
concerned with one thing only—that British capital and British brains
are good for his colony; therefore, without any sentimental nonsense, he
gives the Britisher a warm welcome, and sees to it that no preference is
given to the German merchant, which might make the British firm hesitate
to invest further capital in a German colony.
Of course the regulations in German colonies are numerous and enforced
with military precision and sternness. The native, centuries behind the
white man, does not bear the strain very well. The Britisher, after a
time, learns that such regulations are for his good and accepts them. No
merchant at first takes kindly to keeping his back-yard free from refuse;
if he is in Togoland he resents the first instance upon which he is fined
twenty marks for leaving old tins, half-filled up with rain water, lying
about the rear of his store, but when in the process of time he is still
without fever, he sees the advantage of this anti-mosquito regulation.
[Sidenote: MODEL TRANSPORT]
In Lome the Germans have an extremely interesting and unique system of
transport enterprise. The surf, as in many parts of West Africa, is
extremely bad, and for years constituted a source of perpetual loss,
not only of valuable cargoes, but of human life. With characteristic
thoroughness the German, at great cost, ran a pier out to sea, built a
railway line on it and extended this line along the front of the merchant
houses—a distance of about 1½ to 2 miles. On the pier the Government
erected seven powerful steam cranes. Having laid down this plant, they
took the next truly Teutonic step and compelled all the merchants to
accept Government transport.
An outward-bound steamer is sighted at sea, cranes are prepared, the
health-officer leaves before the ship comes to anchor, papers are
examined, cargo is rapidly placed in the surf boats which are towed
across to the pier where, in an almost incredibly short space of time,
fifty tons of cargo are hauled up on to the pier, put on the train and
delivered at the merchants’ doors. A similar method is adopted with a
steamer from the south—homeward bound. The moment the look-out ascertains
her name and destination, he signals or telephones to the merchants, and
shortly afterwards trains are in motion collecting the cargo already
prepared for the expected vessel. When she comes to anchor, her surf
boats are despatched to the pier, where they are promptly loaded and sent
back to the ship.
There is a scientific air about the whole transaction; an absence of
fuss; an attention to business quite refreshing in tropical Africa, and
above all, there is a sort of “hey presto” promptness in the way these
tons of pots and pans, bales of cotton, barrels of oil and bags of corn
are handled.
All merchants, of whatever nationality, must accept this transport and
pay a fixed rate of 11_s._ a ton, which covers all costs and insurance
against every risk. In return they are saved the expense and trouble
which attaches to the upkeep of boats, boat-boys and a large staff of
men for handling cargo. I was assured by the merchants that the system
works extremely well, saves them much annoyance, and, on the whole, does
not work out at much greater expense than the rough-and-ready methods of
other colonial ports.
The administration of German colonies is decidedly autocratic, although
not more so than in British Crown colonies. In German Cameroons, however,
all interests are consulted in a manner which demonstrates the eagerness
of the German Government to keep on good terms with the merchant. Twice,
sometimes three times a year, the Governor holds an enlarged “Colonial
Council,” to the deliberations of which he invites not only the principal
merchants, but the leading missionaries. I was informed that at these
meetings the Governor welcomed criticism of existing or projected
enactments, no matter from what quarter they came, and that the result
was that everyone felt himself to be an integral part of the colony.
[Sidenote: THE FRENCH ATTITUDE]
How different the French Administration! The _Entente Cordiale_ may be
all right in the Banqueting Hall, and as a pin-prick for Germany, but
it is time the British people questioned its value in things that count.
The truth is that in French colonies, merchants of other nationality are
not wanted. Wherever you go in French West Africa, the merchant is full
of grievances with regard to the petty annoyances of the Government and
the officials. Nor does this apply to West Africa alone; the same story
is told in Madagascar and the New Hebrides, in both of which places,
not only is the merchant entirely _de trop_, but the _Entente Cordiale_
has not even secured decent treatment for the devoted missionaries.
The _Entente Cordiale_ was not brought about for selfish ends by Great
Britain, and considering the much advertised generosity of our partner,
we have a right to expect at least ordinary civilities in her colonies.
The French are so absorbed in themselves that they would have none but
Frenchmen on the face of the earth. As Napoleon failed to accomplish this
end, the present-day Frenchman will not, if he can help it, have any but
his own nationality in French colonies.
The Portuguese want British capital, but they don’t want British
merchants; they kill the commerce of British firms by every form of
preferential treatment. Their right to do so is, of course, equal to
that of a man to cut his own throat. The only British enterprises in
Portuguese West Africa are the Lobito-Katanga Railway, the Angola Coaling
Company and some electrical works at Catumbella. The first named is the
well-known Robert Williams’ project for reaching the Katanga and Northern
Rhodesia from the West Coast. The local Portuguese would probably like to
strangle this valuable undertaking in its infancy, but they see already
how much capital is finding its way into Angola. When Robert Williams
gets his railway through to Katanga, the Angola colony will become an
asset of considerable value to the Republic.
[Sidenote: THE BELGIAN ATTITUDE]
The attitude of the Belgian Government towards commerce is again
different from that of any other colonial administration. Theoretically,
the Belgians are anxious to persuade capital to enter the colony, but
the principles of King Leopold’s rule have taken such firm root that in
practice the presence of any commercial agents, particularly those of any
other nationality, is gall and wormwood to the local Belgians. Nothing,
for example, irritates them so much as a reminder that by the Berlin Act
they are bound to keep the country open to the free commerce of the world.
Even Belgian merchants complain of the treatment they receive at the
hands of the officials of the administration. Recently, when calling at
Stanley Pool on board a merchant steamer, we had to pass the customs
official. We put our anchor ashore in front of the customs house, where
the official himself was standing on the beach smoking a cigar, and,
as we thought, waiting to examine our papers. He knew the captain (a
Belgian) was pressed for time, yet he deliberately kept the ship at
anchor for twenty minutes whilst he finished his cigar! No doubt this
conduct was meant to—and, of course, did—impress the crew, but, as the
captain remarked, the reason at the back of such action is the desire of
Belgian officialdom to monopolize transport, and their hatred of any form
of free commerce.
I was present on another occasion which instanced Belgian desire to
secure trade in principle, whilst unwilling to put their advertised
desires into practice by exhibiting a readiness to render real
assistance. There came into Boma a British ship, whose captain was of
higher rank than those usually visiting this port; it was in fact the
first time this officer had called at a port so insignificant as Boma.
He ran his ship alongside the pier, but was amazed to find none of the
ordinary preparations for unloading cargo. Instead of sending a ship’s
officer for an explanation, he went himself to see the quasi-Government
Railway Company.
“Where,” he asked, “are the railway trucks for unloading cargo?”
“There they are,” laconically replied the official.
“But I want them at the ship,” said the captain.
“Well,” answered the official, with genuine courtesy, “you can take them,
I don’t object.”
That it was in any sense the man’s responsibility to send these trucks
along did not occur to him, and upon the captain asking how he was to get
them over the intervening half mile of line to the pier, he was told,
again with every courtesy, “send your crew to push them!”
Then might be seen the spectacle of a ship’s officer and a gang of Kroo
boys spending hours under a tropical sun straining and tugging at these
unwieldy railway trucks, all of which could have been shunted in a few
minutes with ease by any one of the idle engines in the sheds. That a
ship of 5000 tons was delayed for twenty-four hours by this stupidity
was immaterial to the Belgian official. How differently the German
would have acted! The empty trucks would have been ready on the pier,
a shunting engine with steam up standing by directly the steamer began
making her way alongside, but the Belgian is not cast in that mould.
[Sidenote: THE BRITISH ATTITUDE]
In British West African colonies the relations between Government and
Commerce are unique. Alone among the Powers she has developed a caste
attitude, until to-day the distinction is not a little embarrassing. The
British official is quite a good fellow when you get him alone, but, as
a class, they form a distinctly objectionable “set.” This is apparent
the first day on board ship, when the “sorting out” commences, and if
the weather is good this process provides not a little amusement to an
observant passenger. Usually there are but three groups of travellers
on a “coast” steamer—the official, the merchant and the missionary.
As we have travelled a good deal in these ships, many occasions have
presented themselves for watching the arranging and rearranging of
this little floating town. The last time we set out from Liverpool was
the most entertaining of any. Running down the channel, a youth, who
had apparently never travelled before, wished me “Good day,” with the
apparent intention of pacing the deck, but upon his discovering that I
was neither an official, nor a missionary, he inwardly argued “a trader,”
and promptly made off!
Another and yet another pursued the same tactics, until by a process of
elimination they “discovered” the officials. “Steward” was then called
and all the “official chairs” were placed in a semi-circle in the best
part of the deck. That this monopolized the only comfortable section of
the upper deck did not appear to concern these gentlemanly youths.
[Illustration: CATARACT REGION BELOW STANLEY POOL, BELGIAN CONGO.]
In the dining-saloon the chief steward had placed us at one of the lower
tables, but learning from the captain of certain instructions given him
by one of the Directors, with whom I was on friendly terms, this man
came forward and with profuse apologies asked me to accept an entirely
different place in the saloon, saying that he “thought I was a trader!”
Once I met a young Sierra Leone merchant, who told me that a certain
official in the Protectorate had been taken ill with a bad fever at
his factory; that he had nursed him through it with all the care of
a relative; that this official, when he was at last able to leave,
appeared deeply grateful for all that had been done for him, and the
merchant believed he had made a lifelong friend. A few months afterwards
business called him to Freetown, and passing along one of the streets,
he met two or three officials, one of whom was the friend whom he had so
carefully nursed. To his amazement, he only received a curt nod and a
plain intimation that further intercourse was undesirable. It is to be
hoped that such conduct is rare, but the general attitude of the younger
British officials is becoming almost intolerable.
This treatment of the merchant class finds no place in any other colony
of West Africa. It is of quite recent growth and monstrously unjust
to the merchants, for it should never be forgotten that it is almost
entirely to the merchant and missionary communities that Great Britain
primarily owes her presence in West Africa. There is another fact our
officials would do well to remember, namely, that the natives and the
merchants together pay their salaries and pensions.
The younger officials make themselves far more objectionable than
the older men, but probably this is due to their inexperience. It
is, however, regrettable that the older officials do not set a more
pronounced example in the other direction. Within recent years, the
British Colonial Office has been sending out, in the capacity of
Assistant District Commissioners, many youths of necessarily immature
judgment and totally lacking in experience. These lads are by far the
worst specimens in their attitude towards the native and merchant
communities. Recently, this feature has been impressing itself upon
travellers in East as well as in West Africa. Mr. E. N. Bennet, in his
book on the Turks in Tripoli, says:—
“Amongst our fellow passengers to Marseilles were eight young
men who were on their way to Uganda. Few, if any of them, had
ever crossed the Channel before; they wore school colours and
did not know an olive tree when they saw one. Nevertheless,
they held, and expressed, very decided views—the ideas of the
College Debating Society and the London Club—that the ‘man on
the spot’ must be the sole arbiter on matters colonial and that
kindness was absolutely wasted on black men; the one ethical
quality necessary in a representative of Great Britain was
firmness.... They also viewed with disfavour the deportation
of Mr. Galbraith Cole. One could only hope that when these
inexperienced youths grew older they would grow wiser. As
it is, an immense amount of harm is done all over our vast
Empire by some of our younger soldiers and civil servants, who,
utterly devoid of _cosmopolitanisme gracieux_, treat their
non-English fellow subjects with a contempt which would be
ridiculous if it were not dangerous.”
The merchant seeking a new field for commerce in West Africa will find
the warmest welcome and the fairest treatment in German colonies, and
next to Germany, in this respect, the British colonies; there is not much
to choose between the Belgian and the Portuguese. None but Frenchmen
should go to the colonies of “Liberty, Equality and Fraternity,” for
there is little Liberty, less Equality and no Fraternity in the French
colonies for white or black.
IV
THE LIQUOR TRAFFIC
It is useless to close our eyes to the fact that an evil of fearful
potentiality is being introduced and fostered all down the West Coast
of Africa. I have not always found it possible to agree with the
much-criticized Native Races and Liquor Traffic United Committee, but it
must not be overlooked that some of their critics have made errors, in
judgment at least, not one whit less extraordinary than those which have
been brought against that Committee of highminded and unselfish men.
The greatest mistake made by people in Europe upon this question is that
of comparing it with the European consumption of alcohol. The African is
not a drunkard in his primitive state and he detests our ardent spirits;
once in an extremity I gave a young man a sip of brandy in water from my
medicine case, and he literally howled over it and set his teeth firmly
against my trying to give him another dose!
[Sidenote: THE MERCHANT AND THE LIQUOR TRAFFIC]
The error to which most people cling so tenaciously is that of the
“scoundrelly merchant” theory. They cannot understand—because they do not
know Africa—why a merchant should pour gin into West Africa, unless he is
making a fortune out of it. As a plain matter of fact the merchant makes
less out of the sale of alcohol than he would out of almost any other
article of commerce. In a village store on the Gold Coast hinterland, I
found rum costing 6_s._ 9_d._ a gallon being retailed at 7_s._ 3_d._—a
profit of only 6_d._ per gallon. In another store I visited, the native
merchant was retailing gin at 9_d._ a bottle, for which he was paying
8_s._ 1½_d._ per dozen, and 4_d._ a case for transport to his store. A
West African merchant once remarked to me, “If you could stop the demand
for intoxicating liquor it would pay me to give you twenty thousand
pounds.” The merchant was quite right, because, whilst he could get
fifteen and twenty per cent. on the sale of Manchester cotton goods, he
was only making a few pence a case on the gin he was shipping to Lagos!
The sale of alcohol does not pay the merchant, but we cannot escape from
the fact that it is a good revenue producer.
There seems to be a general impression that the British administrations
are the worst in this respect, and that their record is not without
fault few would deny, but I am confident that the moral sentiment of the
British Government and people will save them from falling so low as the
French administration—an easy first in almost all that is retrograde in
Equatorial Africa. France to-day recognizes the terrible evils which
follow in the train of Absinthe-drinking in the homeland, yet she can
calmly look on whilst natives stream into the little drink stores of
French Congo with their 25 cent pieces to purchase “nips” of what I was
assured by the vendor was the worst form of drink in the whole of the
African continent. When we were at Gaboon, an official informed me that
quite recently two young Europeans had taken to drinking trade Absinthe,
and in each case had died in a manner which called for a post-mortem
examination, the results of which horrified the examining doctors.
The Portuguese have long been regarded as by far the worst sinners, but
it is the fashion in West Africa to place every sin at the door of that
not unkindly nation, yet however deeply they may have sinned in the
past, there are happily signs of repentance and reform. In Angola the
Government has recently decreed the abolition of distilleries throughout
the colony, providing, out of their extreme poverty, considerable sums as
compensation for the manufacturers.
The Belgians lead the way among the colonizing nations in West Africa,
for in their colony they are bringing the prohibition line ever nearer
the coast and it is now impossible even in the “open” areas for a native
to purchase any intoxicating liquor between Friday night and Monday
morning.
[Sidenote: “BANKING” SPIRITS]
If the natives as a rule dislike alcohol, if the natives of West Africa
are less drunken than Europeans, what happens to this ceaseless and
increasing flow of spirits into the West African colonies? “Over one
million cases of Hamburg spirit are retailed to the natives here by a
single firm within a year.” Such was the remark passed by a dispassionate
Government official to me when in Southern Nigeria. There are twenty
or thirty big merchants in Lagos alone, who handle huge consignments
of this spirit by every steamer. Sitting on the banks of the Lagoon,
one sees an endless stream of small craft passing to and fro with their
loads of gin, going to a hundred different centres, some with only six
cases, others with fifty and even one hundred. I visited a farmer up
country, who admitted to me that he retailed over £1000 worth of gin
and rum every year. The same story met us at Abeokuta, where something
like thirty-three per cent. of the imports are spirituous liquors, and
the returns published show that in the month of January, 1911, out of a
customs revenue of £2644, no less than £2450 came from duty on spirits.
None deny, because they cannot, this prodigious importation of spirits
into the Gold Coast and Southern Nigerian territories; but one thing
baffles every observer—where does it go? The Egba and Yoruba people of
Southern Nigeria are not drunken. We could find very few white people
who had seen any appreciable degree of drunkenness; generally it was
suggested that drinking took place at night. In order to test this
theory, I went several times, at a late hour, quietly through the lowest
parts of Lagos town. I saw many things, some of an appalling nature,
but no single drunken man or woman could I find, and the statistics for
convictions barely show one per thousand of the population.
Yet we cannot escape from the official figures. Over six and a half
million gallons of spirituous liquor of European manufacture were
imported last year into the British colonies of Sierra Leone, Nigeria and
the Gold Coast.
What happens to this increasing stream of spirits? No one has ever been
able to give a satisfactory answer to the question. Some say that being
a currency, millions of bottles of gin are “banked,” _i.e._, stored;
some say that large quantities are consumed at festivals; others assert
that it disappears in secret drinking. I am inclined to think, however,
from visits paid at all hours to the people’s homes, that spirit drinking
is spread over a much wider area than has hitherto been thought; that
is to say, moderate drinking prevails widely, but that at present few
of the natives drink to excess. If the moderate drinking of to-day is
leading the people to drunkenness to-morrow, then a catastrophe of first
magnitude will fall upon West Africa. Drunkenness is admittedly on the
increase in the Gold Coast, and this is so obvious that three years ago
the Governor sounded a warning by saying that he recognized drunkenness
was becoming one of the most dangerous enemies to Christianity.
What is to be done? Everyone admits that the sale of intoxicating liquor
to natives (many would also add—and to whites) in Africa is an evil; all
are agreed that the danger is potential rather than actual. But very
few seem to have any other remedy than—repression, prohibition, high
licenses, heavy duties; these are the methods which find greatest favour
to-day.
Prohibition is an extremely difficult proposition for any African colony,
and it is well-nigh impossible where the French and German boundary
lines march with that of another colony. If, for example, Great Britain
proclaimed prohibition for the Gold Coast, what guarantee have we that
German native traders would not smuggle spirits across the Volta into the
Gold Coast, or the French traders carry it over the Dahomean border into
Southern Nigeria?
[Sidenote: HIGH LICENSES AND DUTIES]
High license and import duties have both been tried, and both failed to
check the growth of imports. In some places, it would seem that these
very restrictions make matters worse. I was informed by a white doctor
on the Gold Coast that chiefs in the hinterland will take out a license
sometimes of £50, or even higher value, but will impose a tax of 5_s._,
or more, per head, on the entire community to pay for it. My medical
friend, who was a man of long experience and wide knowledge, further said
that many of the people resented this tax because they were abstainers,
and on that ground complained to the District Commissioner, but the only
redress they obtained was, “Call it a loyalty tax then, and pay it!”
It would be interesting to see what would happen if the duty as a
prohibitive measure were temporarily removed. I do not think it is
altogether clear that it would tend to increase the consumption; one
thing is certain, it would cause something like a financial panic amongst
those natives who, holding large stores, hope that the agitation in
Europe will enhance the local price and thus make possible extremely
profitable sales of stocks.
There are two spheres of action entirely untouched to-day. West Africa
is a very “dry” place indeed, and the thirsty inhabitants must have some
beverage other than water. Palm wine used to be the national beverage,
but the demand by Europe for the products of the oil palm is so great
that the whole strength of the tree is required for producing vegetable
oil.
The other sphere of operation is beyond question the most effective—an
internal movement against the consumption of, and trade in, spirits.
Repressive measures by Governments are all very well in their place,
but without the goodwill of the people those measures cannot be
wholly effective. An agitation locally kept up with the vigour that
characterizes the campaign in England, would do an enormous amount of
good.
For generations past we have been telling the native that he, in his
primitive state, is everything that is bad. Certainly the African,
modelled upon a combination of the reports of travellers, officials
and missionaries, is a creature the devil himself would disown.
Unfortunately, the native has, to some extent, come to believe this, and,
abandoning his native rôle, has struggled to imitate the whites who, he
has been taught to believe, are the highest type of civilization. When,
therefore, the white man ships his gin to the African, he considers
it the “correct form” of the higher civilization to purchase it, and
copy the European to the extent of drinking “gin and bitters,” “gin
and water,” “whisky and soda,” “cocktails” and other liver petrifying
abominations, forsaking his simple draught of water and his kola nuts for
the drinks that help him up to the standard of his inexorable critics and
overlords.
[Sidenote: THE FORCE OF EXAMPLE]
The Governor and his officials can, if they like, do more to stop
spirit-drinking than all the prohibitions, taxations and high licenses
that the wit of man could impose. Is it impossible for one colony to set
an example? I think not, for I believe the British officials, as a whole,
in spite of their shortcomings, are capable of making any sacrifice for
the good of the colonies. If a governor would “set the fashion” and
by his example inspire his subordinate officers with a determination
to refuse to drink any intoxicating liquors in public, at any function
or ceremony whatever, for a period of three years, and thereby set the
fashion against spirit-drinking, I venture to predict that within those
three years the import of spirits would decrease by at least one half.
The natives, rightly led by the Press, and the movement supported by the
officials and by the ministers of the native churches, would take fire,
so to speak, until the drinking of spirits would become “incorrect form.”
In the hands of the Government officials is the power to turn the natives
by example against the consumption of ardent European spirituous liquors.
Will they seize the opportunity?
V
THE EDUCATED NATIVE
The man who would understand the African must get beneath the surface,
otherwise he will never know the real sentiments of the native races. By
confining himself to the hospitality of the whites, he will learn a great
deal about the natives, and will also learn to appreciate the position of
the merchant and the administrator, but if he would probe the mind and
thought of the African, he will find no better way than that of living
with him.
[Sidenote: NATIVE HOSPITALITY]
It is of course more congenial—to many essential—to accept the
hospitality of trader or official, for there are little things a native
host and hostess will inevitably forget; but the compensations! What a
wealth of affection, courtesy and native lore is poured at the feet of
the visitor.
Driven by fierce tornadoes, wet, cold and utterly miserable, I have
sought the simple hut of the forest hunter, or the fishing-shed on the
banks of an African river. How warm the welcome! How quickly the good
wife will bring forward native refreshment! Let a drop of rain find its
way through the roof into the hut and on to the white guest, and nothing
will stop the impetuous host from dashing outside in the foulest of
weather to stop the leakage. Readily, too, he gives up his rough bed and
will curl up in the hollow of a tree, or beneath its branches, joyfully
enduring any discomfort so long as the white man may be made comfortable.
It is the same at the other end of the scale. Those who discover that
terrible disease—negrophobia—creeping over them, often in spite of
the better self, will find an infallible cure by staying for a few
days with some leading educated native. Their view-point will almost
unconsciously change under the genial and enlightened conversation of the
dinner-table; their hostility will melt away under the influence of the
natural courtesy of the warmhearted host. They will begin to marvel that
some things should never have occurred to them before, and, unless race
prejudice closes the observant mind to all reason, the guest will forget
that his host is an “accursed educated African.”
The “educated negro” is to many only a worse evil than the primitive
savage, but what has the educated native done? What terrible crime has
he committed? I admit he has imbibed the education European civilization
provides, but is that a crime? I admit that he is probably a greater
consumer of spirituous liquor than the illiterate native, but if it is
wrong for the native to follow in the footsteps of his white exemplars,
why does the white man import it? I admit that he is often overdressed in
too demonstrative European clothes, but again, if it is wrong for him to
wear these things, why does European compete with European in producing
the liveliest patterns in clothes and the most outrageous collars and
boots? If these are the things which make the educated native unfit to
live, why send them to him?
I am not here concerned in condemning the sale of European outfits,
importation of spirits, least of all European education, but in fairness
to the African, let us brush aside unreasoning and unreasonable prejudice
and put ourselves in his place for a moment. Let us at least recognize
for example that if grave faults exist in the educational systems we
provide for Africa, it is upon us, rather than upon the African, that the
responsibility rests.
We all agree that the educated African has his weaknesses, and pretty
bad ones too, but though I have met hundreds of them, though I have read
volumes of material they have written, I have never met one who claims
the perfection in life and conduct that not a few of his critics assume.
It seems to be mainly in British colonies that the educated native is
such a bugbear, and if our educational system produces such evils, it is
done after all under an autocratic and not a representative Government.
Surely, therefore, we should lose no time in abolishing, root and branch,
the cause of the mischief.
But is it a failure? If so, wherein has the African failed? Take first
the elementary curriculum of mission and Government schools. Where would
Africa be to-day without its thousands of coloured clerks and Government
officials? In Southern Nigeria alone there are 5000 natives in the
British Government service, all of them more or less educated. In every
colony, too, you meet cultured natives trained at these schools who are
now devoting their lives to the education of the rising generation.
[Sidenote: EDUCATION AND THE AFRICAN]
We are told that the education of the African has been too largely
concentrated on a purely literary and spiritual curriculum. Beyond
question there is some force in this criticism, but the Missions and
Governments are surely more responsible for this than the natives
themselves. The Government particularly so, for missionary committees
are after all only trustees for the funds placed at their disposal, and
such are almost entirely given for purely missionary propaganda. But even
this criticism is unjust in ignoring the existence all over West Central
Africa of the educated native carpenters, bricklayers, engineers on
steamers, engine drivers and guards on railway trains.
Crossing the Kasai territory I met an American Bishop, who had also
travelled not a few thousand miles in Central Africa, and this charming
old Divine could not cease exclaiming, “Well, the way you English are
covering this continent with educated native carpenters, bricklayers
and engineers is just marvellous.” Go where you will, you meet these
men. In the upland cocoa roças of San Thomé, in the workshops of German
Cameroons, in the trading factories of almost every island, you will
always find the Accra or Sierra Leone trader and mechanic who has
received a fairly liberal general education at the mission schools. A
thousand miles north in the Congo, away south towards Rhodesia, you will
hear frequently the welcome salutation, “How do you do, sir!” Welcome
then indeed is the claim to one Throne one Empire; more welcome still is
the kindly assistance with baggage, the clean hut, the generous gifts of
fruit and provisions.
“May I pay you for your kindness?”
“No, sir, I am too glad to see you. God bless you, sir. Goodbye.”
The traveller thus refreshed goes on his way and vows that when he gets
home he will send a subscription to those missionary societies who
are sending forth this stream of men to the distant parts of the dark
continent.
The principal openings for the sons of native chiefs are the medical and
legal professions. First let it be remembered that the enlightened chiefs
fortunately saw that by giving the flower of the race scientific European
education the power of the witch doctor, who, throughout African history
has been both medical and legal quack, would be broken. Not only so, but
the sick and afflicted among the race would receive the best alleviation
that science could provide.
Has the coloured barrister failed? If so where? Certainly not in British
examinations where brains and energy provide the only standard. I shall
probably be told by the critic that he has failed in practice. If this
be so, how is it that whenever a Crown case comes along the British
Government promptly briefs leading native barristers?
[Illustration: DR. SAPARA OF LAGOS, A MEDICAL MAN IN THE SERVICE OF THE
BRITISH GOVERNMENT.
(Dr. Sapara is endeavouring to persuade the natives to adopt attire
more suited to Tropical Africa than the frock coat and silk hat of the
European.)]
Has the doctor failed? Again, where? Not in the English and Scotch
hospitals, for he has frequently carried a higher degree than he finds
amongst his European colleagues when he returns to the coast. That he
is excluded from Government service proves nothing, except perhaps
prejudice. It may be asked why in the Gold Coast colony the African
medical man is allowed no place in Government service. We are told in
reply, because white men, and more particularly their wives, would
refuse to receive treatment at the hands of coloured medical men. This
argument fails entirely when we remember that the majority of the
hospital patients are not white, but coloured, and at present can only
receive treatment from white doctors. Moreover, do we not know of white
men, who, fearful of that rising temperature, that throbbing pulse,
unable any longer to bear the suspense, have sent for a native medical
attendant, and under his kindly treatment have recovered, in some cases
to remember gladly the skill exhibited, but in others, alas, too easily
to forget that they owe their lives to such tender ministrations.
[Sidenote: THE NATIVE DOCTOR]
Then, too, are there not to-day many white men on the coast who prefer
native doctors—whose names I could mention—to the services of European
medical men? Have we not heard and known of something still more
eloquent—the calling in of native medical men to white women? Many a
white merchant and Government official has taken out a delicate and
highly-strung wife to assist him in his work, and almost every “coaster”
knows how one of these heroic women was stretched upon, apparently, the
last bed of sickness; the distracted husband had tried everything, had
implored the white doctor to try something—it hardly mattered what—to
give back health to the sufferer. Suddenly a thought occurred to him! The
native doctor, fully qualified, was sent for and visited the patient, and
then in consultation with his white colleague, other treatment was tried.
Slowly the sick one fought her way back to life and health, and to this
day the husband remembers to whom he owes the restoration of one who to
him was everything—and this is no isolated case.
When death’s angel looks in at the window, which is pretty often in
West Africa, race prejudice shamefacedly slinks out through the nearest
doorway.
The administrator, the missionary, and the native, however, realize that
the educational facilities at present at the disposal of the natives
are not ideal; the march of progress has shown defects, and these must
be remedied. If there is one administrative problem in British colonies
important above another, surely it is that of education. In all things
colonial, Great Britain has hitherto given a lead; let her maintain that
proud tradition by appointing a commission to study the whole question of
the education of the African peoples in her Equatorial possessions, with
the object of ascertaining how far the Government may be able to secure
a more even balance between the literary and technical training of the
natives; how far it may be possible to so re-adjust existing systems as
to avoid denationalization; how far it may be possible to extend that
supremely important but largely neglected branch of education—practical
agriculture.
[Sidenote: EDUCATIONAL GRANTS]
Then there is the question of Government grants. Can anyone defend
the antiquated system which prevails in many colonies of giving lump
sums of revenue to missions? An excellent departure from this rule has
been commenced in the Gold Coast, whereby the missions receive a grant
per capita for the finished product, _i.e._ when a scholar reaches a
given standard in literary and technical knowledge, the Government
makes a definite grant of from 20_s._ to 27_s._ 6_d._ for each scholar
attaining to that standard. This experiment, already fruitful of
so much good, might provide a model for other parts of the African
continent. A commission could study how far this should be extended and
whether it might be wise to lead on to scholarships for an extension of
the education by providing grants for the study of agriculture in the
botanical gardens and plantations of the tropical world. For example, if
facilities were provided certain natives from the Gold Coast would derive
great benefit from a study of cocoa plantations in different parts of the
British Empire.
If race prejudice were too strong to admit of this procedure within the
Empire, then such natives would undoubtedly benefit by a visit to the
plantations of other Powers, in particular those of the Portuguese on San
Thomé, where, although there is predial slavery, no race prejudice exists
which would prevent a close study of one of the finest systems of cocoa
production in the world—certainly second to none in West Africa.
Another problem which knocks loudly at the door of the British Colonial
Office for consideration is that of Africans seeking a legal and medical
education in the Mother Country. We cannot, and have no right to object
to their doing so; on the contrary, we ought to welcome the idea, to
be proud of the fact that our Administrations are so progressive that
they help this movement forward. But we are not; we do not like some of
the results which at present attend this practice. Again, I ask, are we
not responsible? These young men at a most receptive age come in all
their enthusiasm to the Motherland of their dreams; they expect to find
a civilization, but one remove from the realms of eternal purity and
bliss, and what do they find? No strong and friendly hand is outstretched
to help them, no responsible person comes forward to take them by the
hand and bring them in touch with the better elements of our national
life. Alone in London or Edinburgh they drift into the worst channels
and imbibe the most pernicious ideas and practices that float around the
parks and parade themselves in the streets of our great cities. What
wonder that their lives are fouled? Who can be surprised if the only
seeds they carry back to the colonies are those evil ones which produce a
crop of tares to the embarrassment of the Government?
[Sidenote: THE AFRICAN ALONE IN LONDON]
Philanthropy can do much to turn the thoughts of these young men into
loftier channels, but philanthropy should not be left to do this work
alone. Surely the Colonial Office, if it has no duty in the matter, at
least for its own sake could render some assistance in giving these young
students a closer knowledge of the men, the aims and the desires that
inspire British Administration. In the whole world there is collectively
no finer group of officials than those in the service of Downing
Street; some seem to think they too closely resemble highly-specialized
machinery; some of us know otherwise; some of us know that behind the
official mask there are men whose hearts and consciences pulsate with
lofty principle and humanitarian sentiment. Yet between this wealth
of goodwill and experience, and the African youth amongst us, a great
gulf is fixed; there is no medium of friendly intercourse between these
noble-minded officials and ex-officials of the Government and the
young Africans who are being trained to mould the character of their
compatriots and of public opinion in Britain across the seas.
John Bull must wake up to the existence and the needs of these children,
must realize that their education, whether in the colony or in the
Mother Country, is of supreme importance, and that the friendly and wise
oversight of their education is an Imperial responsibility of the highest
order. It is more, for all nations have looked to us in the past for
the solution of these problems, and upon such facts—rather than upon a
colossal navy—rests the real strength of Great Britain.
VI
JUSTICE AND THE AFRICAN
The Powers of Europe—and Great Britain in particular—boast of the
“justice” with which they treat native races. Happily the native tribes,
as a whole, fully share this complacent belief in European rule, and this
no doubt arises from the fact that before the Powers of Europe divided
Central Africa between them, justice, as compared with might, had but a
small place.
This belief, however, is perceptibly passing away, and in many of the
West African colonies the natives are not now prepared to accept, without
question, the acts of European administration. To such an extent has this
feeling grown within recent years that administrative action sincerely
taken in the best interests of the natives is frequently assailed.
[Sidenote: BRITISH JUSTICE]
No one would deny that blunders are but human; few would deny that the
finest Colonial Office in the world—that of Great Britain—has made
mistakes which subsequent history condemns. The natives have enough
common-sense to make every allowance for such mistakes, but what they do
not understand—and in this they are by no means alone—is, why recognition
of the mistake is not made promptly, and some reparation made for the
error. The plain man asks why there should be some Medo-Persian law
which forbids the admission of error and the consequent refusal of
reparation. This attitude is accountable for much harm to the prestige of
the European in West Africa.
In Government despatches, in speeches, in our schools and from our
pulpits, we are never tired of preaching upon those articles of British
political faith which know no party. We pride ourselves upon our love of
justice and freedom, and yet we do things which we know to be utterly
indefensible, which we know to be in entire contradiction to our belauded
principles. We have made the blunder and we know it, but we invariably
crown it with the further blunder of refusing to admit it.
We know perfectly well that it is indefensible to arrest a man and
arbitrarily punish him without trial, but it is done, nevertheless.
During our journeys in Central Africa, we visited a grey-haired old
chieftain living in a hut on the Gold Coast. The old man was reclining in
a cheap deck-chair, he was totally blind and unable to stand. What was
his story?
Some thirteen years ago he heard rumours of a rebellion against the
British Government in Sierra Leone, and immediately Bai Sherboro sent
a message to the District Commissioner that the war boys were bent on
attacking Bonthe. This timely information permitted of measures being
taken to protect Bonthe. One day a messenger called upon Bai Sherboro and
told him the Governor wished to see him. Trustingly the old man picked up
his staff and went to the British authorities, when, without trial—and he
asserts without being even informed of the charges made against him—he
was forthwith exiled to a lonely spot on the shores of the distant
British colony, the Gold Coast. In Sierra Leone the old man had a son,
who, refusing to allow his father to go forth alone, sold all he had and
joined him in solitary exile, and who to this day shares his loneliness
and sorrow.
The British Government does not deny the facts, but, apparently acting
upon the advice of the “man on the spot,” who has probably never seen
any other person than the old chief’s interested accuser, takes up the
position that the return of this blind and decrepit old man to his
native home, would be dangerous, on the ground that he was believed to
be implicated in a rebellion! The Government has all along refused to
give the old man a trial, so that he might face his accusers and meet the
charges, with the result that he must die in exile. There is something
very un-English about such an incident. Strangely enough the old man
still holds firmly, after all these years, to his admiration of British
rule, and faith in British justice. Again and again he reiterated to
us the words, “If only the King of England knew!” “If only the King of
England knew!”
This is a passionate loyalty which surely we are unwise to trifle
with, unwise to immolate upon the altar of theoretic administrative
infallibility. It is folly to bury our heads in the sand so that we may
not see these things, for if we fail to look these facts squarely in
the face, others are regarding them—our friends with deep concern, our
enemies with the keen relish of an insatiable hatred.
Will it be argued that this is only an incident? Possibly, but who
knows? This case was unknown to the outside public until the old man’s
hair had whitened and until he had lost the use of his limbs during
ten years’ exile. Two years of persistent knocking at the door of the
Colonial Office has even failed to secure permission for the old man to
return to die in his own country.
[Sidenote: THE PATERNAL DREAM]
Many chiefs and native merchants in British West Africa have but one
ideal for their offspring—to send them to England for an education
either for the bar or for the medical service. They are pathetic stories
which some of these men tell you of how they deny themselves and their
families so that they may save enough to send “my eldest” to England.
They themselves have only heard of the glories of England, they can never
hope to see them, but their determination is that the boy shall. The
latter comes and spends his four or five years here in England, possibly
more, and during that period the old man is slaving away on his farm, or
trading early and late in his store, has watched his savings trickle away
until often he has but little left. At last the glad day of home-coming
arrives. The lad steps ashore from the boat, a fully fledged “medico,”
carrying “no end of big degrees.” How proud the father is! How amply
repaid he feels for all his efforts and struggles, as his full-grown son
explains to him the degrees he has obtained are higher than those of Dr.
Smith, the white medical officer at the hospital.
The young medical man hopefully sends in his request for an appointment
in the Government service—an appointment which must be paid largely from
native taxation. At a later date he receives an official envelope, which
he greedily tears open in the presence of the expectant and admiring
family. It is the official form, intimating that his services are not
wanted!
We all know the reason, why wrap it up in gentle phraseology, the hideous
fact is there—the medical service is the monopoly of the whites. Of what
avail are degrees of the highest order? What use is it to argue that
native medical officers would be less costly? The colour-bar is thrown
across the threshold of opportunity in the Gold Coast. The young man
himself understands, possibly he may even come to hate the Administration
which appears to hate him, and can we be altogether surprised? The old
father does not understand it, he is bewildered—the blow that has fallen
upon his hopes is a heavy one, and in spite of himself he wonders what is
amiss with British justice.
[Sidenote: EXPROPRIATION]
The island of Lagos, measuring less than 600 square miles, with a
population of nearly 80,000, was always congested, but never so badly
as it is to-day. By day, and also by night, I have traversed the native
quarters and found overcrowding which before long must produce a grave
condition in that hub of West Coast commercial activity. Lagos is always
hot, always humid, always malodorous to epidemic point, but Lagos,
overcrowded though it was, has within recent years seriously added to
its congestion by the forcible expropriation of some hundreds of people
from the lands they occupied. No doubt a nicely-laid-out race-course
is more pleasing to the eye of many British officials: the brightness
and neatness of this fenced park is cheering to those who now have a
monopoly of this vicinity, but the price paid for such expropriation
is a further alienation of native loyalty and goodwill. Somehow the
native does not like being driven from his home, even though “Hobson’s”
compensation is provided.
VII
RACE PREJUDICE
[Sidenote: RACE PREJUDICE AFLOAT]
The most lamentable feature which confronts the traveller in British
West African colonies to-day is that with the growth of commerce on
the one hand, and with the spread of Christian thought on the other,
race prejudice is rapidly increasing its hold not only through an ever
widening area, but in an intensity which must before many years have
passed precipitate a grave condition in the relationship of the two
races. The decks of West African liners provide an incomparable mirror
for reflecting white opinion upon the shortcomings of the black man. On
shore each man is busy with his own affairs and usually meets only men
of his own circle, but on board ship one meets every class; moreover,
the conditions of travel tend to facilitate a flow of conversation. One
sees stretched upon the deck, in every conceivable attitude of comfort
and discomfort, all classes of the coast community: the dapper little
colonel; the young district commissioner; the army doctor; dealers in
oil, ebony and rubber; the Nimrod going out in search of big game,
and the missionary going forth in quest of human souls. These varied
interests cooped up on the decks under the enervating influence of the
tropical sun will with some exceptions share little in common, but that
of an indefinable dislike and contempt for that black man they come out
to govern or exploit. To the student of human affairs, the conversation
is of absorbing interest, revealing as it does every type of thought and
superficiality. The loquacious trader, with the experience of but one
term, opines with a lofty air that the “nigger” is the very embodiment
of Satan. The “gentle” wife of Britain’s representative suggests that
the sum of all evils—the native we have half-educated, should be
curbed by measures dear to the heart of the short-sighted statesmen of
Russia. The sympathetic doctor, with ten years’ practice, looks on and
holds his peace, a silent but eloquent censure. The missionary, with
longer experience still, likewise says nothing, but listens with pained
interest. The deck below is filled with the usual crowd of natives: the
tall Fulani trader; the squat Gold Coaster; the Christian servant from
Freetown; the devout Mohammedan merchant going up to Kano, possibly on
to Mecca. The mammies, too, are there, dressed in skirts of brilliant
Manchester print and gaily coloured blouses, outrageous in fit and style.
The piccaninnies play their little games and romp round their admiring
mammies. Not infrequently a child stands sadly apart, maybe a girl
possessing but little in common with the other children, her little head
with its pale face is covered with something half-wool, half-hair; she
has a father somewhere, possibly amongst that group on the upper deck,
but between upper and lower deck a ladder is fixed, down which the white
man may go whenever desire prompts him, but up which neither coloured nor
quadroon may climb.
But what are these exceptional sins of the coloured man? What are these
terrible shortcomings of which he has the absolute monopoly and which
call forth bursts of passionate denunciation from the great men of
the earth? “An incurable kleptomaniac”—“unspeakably immoral”—“grossly
impudent”—“incorrigibly lazy”—are but a few of the sweeping indictments
hurled pell-mell at the reputation of the absent and mainly defenceless
“prisoner in the dock.” Civilization, which has never robbed the African
of his land or its fruits, never bought and sold him, never violated his
daughters, but has ever protected him, has ever set before him a perfect
standard of Christian practice, should examine these whirling charges
in the light of established facts. It cannot be denied that the African
frequently breaks the eighth commandment, but there is some evidence that
the Almighty had the Anglo-Saxon race in view rather than the African
when He gave Moses the ten commandments on Sinai’s mountain.
The following incident will show the prejudice to which the African is
subjected: Our vessel was pitching, tossing and rolling her way down the
West Coast, most of her passengers too sea-sick to stir far from the
upper deck. A steward shuffled his way along endeavouring to balance cups
of chicken-broth to tempt the appetite. One of the passengers helping
himself, called attention to the lack of spoons. The steward replied:
“We are not allowed to bring them, sir; you see there’s niggers aboard
this ship!” Though knowing perfectly well that the Kroo boy may not
intrude himself upon the upper deck, even the steward seeks to make him
responsible for losses more properly attributable to the members of his
own staff.
[Sidenote: NATIVE OFFICIALS]
The Post Office clerks at Sierra Leone, and Custom House officials at
Lagos, are cited as paragons of impudence and “swelled head.” It must
be admitted that these men fully realize that they are servants of the
British Crown and maintain a dignity not altogether appreciated by the
white community. If they can be accused of “swelled head,” may it not be
that white example has led them to regard such an attitude as “correct
form” for Government officials? Examples of this may too often be seen in
British Crown colonies, for between the British official class and the
merchant community a great gulf is fixed, across which many officials
gaze with unbecoming contempt. Let the subordinate native but ape this
attitude, and, in him, it becomes a sin.
With bated breath and eloquent gesture, the frightful immorality of the
native is a morsel of scandal dear to the heart of many superior whites.
This is a matter, however, upon which students of African social life
have some differences of opinion, but none have any such differences of
opinion upon the necessity of “Form B,” which so many white officials
are prone to forget. An exposure of African immorality cannot, it is
true, be long delayed; sooner than most people think that day is coming.
Locked in the breasts of governors, doctors, missionaries and educated
natives are strange stories and appalling statistics; their volume is
daily increasing; facts are being labelled and classified and these only
await the opportunity which an increasing virulence of attack upon native
immorality—ignoring that of the white race which obtains in every African
town—will precipitate.
The chief indictment against the African is that of being incurably
lazy. Prejudice has so blinded the eyes of critics that they do not see
the fleets of sail and steam craft which the horny black hands send to
and from the West Coast laden with produce. Look over a single ship;
there are boat-boys, deck-boys, boys for cleaning brass, washing plates
and dishes, splicing ropes, hauling rigging and painting ironwork. “Boys”
for loading barrels of oil, for towing and loading floats of giant
timbers, all of whom, more or less, keep the doctor busy bandaging their
crushed fingers and toes or sometimes their broken heads. “Boys,” too,
for delivering cargo ashore, through the wild surf in which many lose
their lives every year.
Those who have a leaning towards the “lazy nigger” theory would do well
to stand for a single hour at the Liverpool docks and watch that unbroken
stream of drays heavily laden with tons upon tons of mahogany for our
tables; cocoa beans for our chocolates; rubber for our motor cars; palm
oil for our soap; kernels which presently will find their oil labelled
“fine salad oil,” or “rich margarine.” The sundries, too, are there
by the waggon load; hemp and cotton, ground-nuts and skins, ebony and
ivory, a veritable river of produce flowing into the heart of the British
Empire without intermission. Nothing can check that flow, nothing can
stop its increase, for it springs to-day from lands overflowing with
forest wealth; lands where natives are inured to the hardships of labour,
natives of infinite patience and withal the world’s keenest traders.
There is but one danger to this increasing flow—race prejudice—which may,
unless checked, give birth to actions which will utterly shatter African
confidence in the British race.
[Sidenote: THE DAY OF RECKONING OR REFORMS]
The critics of the African all agree that he has one good point—“he
takes his gruel like a man”—“flog him when he is in the wrong and he
won’t resent it; flog him thoroughly whilst you are at it, and he will
even thank you for it.” If this doctrine should ever firmly possess the
minds of those whose duty it is to administer West African colonies, the
Governments will be faced with a danger impossible to exaggerate. To make
this opinion an article of administrative faith is to provide the white
with a salve for every act of injustice which irritating circumstances
and climate so constantly generate. In every colony in West Africa there
are some few white men who are wholly trusted by the natives, and their
homes and hospitality are at their disposal day and night. Naturally
these are the experienced men of the coast, or those of repute amongst
the natives; the easy grace with which they move in and out amongst
the people at all hours, and in all circumstances, is demonstrative
of the confidence they enjoy. Discuss the natives and the problems of
administration with such men and the furrowed brow wrinkles still more,
and they tell you a change must come soon, or—“Certain white men would be
wise to clear.” It is for statesmen at home to recognize the danger in
time and choose between a day of reform or a day of reckoning.
PART III
I.—Labour—Supply and Demand.
II.—Land and its Relation to Labour.
III.—Portuguese Slavery.
IV.—The Future of Belgian Congo.
I
LABOUR—SUPPLY AND DEMAND
Everywhere in West Africa the cry goes up, “Give us more labour.” The
British, German, Portuguese and French merchants all declare that if
only they could get the labour, they might put a different face on
the whole of the problems of production in West Africa. The principal
reason for this shortage is unquestionably the fact that West Africa is
sparsely populated, but this one fact does not, by any means, explain
the situation. In Liberia alone does there appear to be any appreciable
quantity of surplus labour, and upon its resources considerable demands
are made by other colonies. This surplus obviously arises from the fact
that Liberia is completely undeveloped, but if in the near future some
energetic power should take charge of that territory, a period would
certainly be put to indiscriminate recruiting amongst the native tribes.
It is true that in some territories in West Africa there is an increase
in the population, but taking the whole areas into review, the labour
force has seriously decreased within recent years. Statistics, though at
present little more than estimates, go to prove that in several colonies
this falling off is becoming a grave question. Recently the religious
denominations in Lagos have been holding “intercessions” with reference
to the high rate of mortality. If this intercession should lead the
natives from faith to works, we may still hope to see the abandonment of
those European customs which are doing untold harm to the physique of the
native women and children.
The causes of decrease in the population, generally speaking, are beyond
human ken and one can only express opinions which someone else will
promptly contradict. For example, almost every traveller wrecks his
reputation on that old-time rock of controversy—polygamy. Sir Harry
Johnston mentions in one of his books the case of a polygamist with
700 children, but the greatest polygamist I have ever met in Africa
possessed 1000 wives, yet he had no children! Argument based upon two
such instances, however, is profoundly unsatisfactory, because with so
large a company of wives in one case, and children in the other, it is
obvious that many other considerations repose beneath the surface. There
is one outstanding fact which everyone knows, but few speak about except
in whispers; human nature is pretty positive in West Africa, no matter
of what hue the skin, and scientists may argue until eternity upon the
relative effects of polygamy and monogamy on the birth rate, but all
their deductions are wide of the mark whilst they have so little actual
monogamy anywhere in West Africa.
[Sidenote: SLEEPING SICKNESS AND LABOUR]
Sleeping sickness has made the most terrible ravages wherever it has
established a firm hold on the tribes, but this scourge would seem to
be spending its force. Seven years ago Uganda recorded over 8000 deaths
from sleeping sickness within twelve months, and the latest Government
report shows that there has been a gradual reduction until in the year
1910 there were only 1546. Happily this encouraging feature is present
on the West Coast also. The Congo suffered more than any other colony,
due, probably to a large extent, to the systematic oppression under which
the population groaned during the Leopoldian régime. Now, however, the
absence of the scourge in many of the old districts is quite noticeable.
Villages that we knew to be swept by this plague ten years ago are once
more flourishing, and in some cases where the birth rate was almost nil
the villages are again joyous with the laughter of little children.
The worst sleeping sickness areas remaining in West Africa appeared to
me to be the Bangalla region of the Congo and the Portuguese island of
Principe. In the latter it has reached such proportions that the whites
are leaving the island. The Portuguese still keep a considerable number
of slaves on the cocoa farms, all of them either infected or exposed to
the disease. As one passes from roça to roça, these slaves, stricken with
disease, with emaciated bodies and gaunt features, stare piteously at
the passer-by from eyes that seem to stand out from their heads, mutely
appealing for the freedom of their distant village homes on the mainland.
Looking at the matter from the materialistic standpoint of labour-supply,
but makes this ruinous conduct on the part of the Portuguese appear
doubly reprehensible.
“Civilization,” too, has contributed to a decrease in the working
population, but in a varying degree. All the Powers have sinned in this
respect. I never read of punitive expeditions with “many natives killed”
without inwardly fuming at the folly of the administration which should
know how precious from an economic standpoint alone, is the life of every
single native. Yet in some places the tribes are hustled, tormented and
even butchered in a manner little realized as yet by the European public.
Think of the loss of life by violent death in both Belgian and French
Congo, and in German West Africa! Think of the countless thousands of
bleaching bones scattered over the highways through Portuguese Angola!
Within the last twenty-five years well over 60,000 slaves have been
shipped to San Thomé alone; add to this the thousands sold and still in
slavery on the mainland, and you probably have a total of over 100,000
slaves passing into the possession of the whites in Portuguese West
Africa. That stream of human merchandize involved a wastage of another
100,000 lives, for a Portuguese slave-trader once admitted that if he got
half his total gang to the coast, he was lucky, but that generally he
could not deliver more than three out of ten!
It is a haunting thought that since the “85” scramble for Africa, the
civilized Powers who rearranged the map of the African continent,
ostensibly in the interests and for the well-being of the natives, have
passively allowed the premature destruction of not less than ten millions
of people. Now these Powers complain bitterly that they are short of
labour and jump at any expedient which presents itself to obtain labour
for their hustling developments.
[Illustration: COCOA FARM, BELGIAN CONGO.]
The sins of King Leopold are visiting themselves upon his successors in
every part of the Congo basin. The prospective gold mines, the cocoa
farms, the public departments, all of them are handicapped owing to lack
of an adequate labour force. If only the Belgians could restore to life
an odd million of the able-bodied men and women done to death under the
régime of their late sovereign, what a different outlook their colony
would possess!
The Belgians now propose bringing Chinese for the Katanga Mines, but
seeing that their former experience of Chinese coolies was not a happy
one, and considering other drawbacks, I very much doubt whether they
will ultimately launch the experiment of bringing thousands of Chinese
across Africa. The original idea of the Belgian Government was that of
bringing the coolies into the Congo under a regulation which would secure
their repatriation at the termination of the contracts, coupling that
regulation with others similar to those adopted by Great Britain in South
Africa. Mr. R. C. Hawkin,[8] whose knowledge of South African politics
is not only wide, but intimate, at once pointed out that the Belgian
Administration was restricted by the Berlin and Brussels Acts. This
opened up a situation so obviously awkward that nothing more has been
heard about the introduction of Chinese labour into the Congo, at least
for the present.
[Sidenote: WHAT GERMANY LACKS]
Germany, like Belgium, differs from France and England in that she has
no other colonies from which to draw a labour force. Quite recently her
colonists, at their wit’s end for labour, passed a resolution agreeing to
import 1000 Indian coolies for labour in the mines. It had not occurred
to them that the British India Office might object. How much trouble, to
say nothing of expense, they would have saved themselves if only they had
asked the office-boy in Downing Street!—they need have gone no higher.
This is another instance of the strange features which now and again
attend German colonization, good as well as bad. Their authorities had
apparently entirely forgotten the regrettable Wilhelmsthal affair, but
probably the real reason was that this incident (which many Englishmen
will not readily forget) was regarded by them as altogether too
trivial to be noticed. This unfortunate affair—though in some respects
comparatively unimportant, yet in reality a grave matter—certainly
merits a permanent record in some form, because it is just one of those
blundering incidents which bring in their train a whole crop of labour
difficulties.
[Sidenote: AN ANGLO-GERMAN INCIDENT]
A German Railway Construction Company had been allowed to recruit British
Kaffir subjects from South Africa. In the autumn of 1910 trouble arose
because deductions were made from the labourers’ wages, and they further
complained of bad food and housing. The Railway authorities seem to
have then embittered the situation by refusing to allow the men food
and water. This conduct in a tropical country was little, if at all,
short of inhuman, and the labourers naturally struck work and apparently
assumed a somewhat threatening attitude. The situation was then handled
in a style characteristically German. The Company itself, ignoring the
civil authorities, called in the troops, who shot seven of these British
subjects in cold blood and wounded several others. How one-sided the
whole affair was is demonstrated by the fact that not a single German
soldier was even injured. This incident, from every point of view an
outrage, was regarded as so trivial that no one appears to have been
punished, nor so far as we know has any compensation been paid to the
wounded or to the relatives of the murdered Kaffirs.
German colonial knowledge of British public opinion cannot be of a very
far-reaching nature when it ignores this incident in asking for British
labour to develop its colonies. To Englishmen it cannot be a matter of
surprise that the India Office has not yet granted permission to recruit
labour from the Indian Empire.
Germany and Belgium are the only two Powers in West Africa which do
not possess colonies in other parts of the world from which to recruit
labour, hence they are dependent upon other Powers. To the proud German
Empire, this situation is irritating, while Great Britain, France,
and also Portugal, to a limited extent, can each of them augment the
labour force of any given colony by recruiting from their other colonial
possessions.
The Portuguese colonies of Angola, San Thomé and Principe, which comprise
the major portion of Portuguese West Africa, experience the greatest
difficulty in obtaining labour. It is perfectly true that during the
last half-century, close on a hundred thousand labourers have left the
shores of Angola for the cocoa islands and other places, but these it
must be remembered were almost exclusively slaves which had been bought
or captured in the remoter regions of Angola, Rhodesia, Barotseland,
and, more especially, the Congo Free State. The Portuguese colonists of
Angola are so pressed for labour that they started some years ago an
“anti-slavery” movement against the Portuguese planters of the islands.
No doubt there was an honest element in this movement, but it is equally
beyond question that the mainspring of the movement was local anxiety
to keep all the slaves in the Angola colony, which is to this moment
rotten with slavery. If Angola, a territory more than twice the size of
France, were properly developed, it would require first of all a complete
abolition of slavery, and then an immense augmentation of the labour
supply. When we were at Lobito, the Robert Williams Railway Company and
the Electrical Syndicate between them were at their wit’s end for two
thousand more men, but these could not be obtained.
The two colonies of San Thomé and Principe are by far the most serious
problem. The area of the two islands is not large—only 400 square miles
together—but they are extraordinarily fertile; the very air seems to
intoxicate with abounding fertility; everything flourishes, cocoa, sisal
and rubber; everything multiplies and replenishes on the earth, but man;
for some reason there appears to be a curse upon those islands, they are
almost without an indigenous population and the wretched slaves imported
to fill the ranks die off like flies. The future of the Portuguese cocoa
colonies is doubtful because it is obvious that they cannot be run
permanently by a temporary solution of the labour question.
[Sidenote: THE BRITISH DEMAND]
Both France and England at present manage their labour difficulties with
greater ease than any of the other Powers, and this because both have a
floating supply in their colonies, which, owing to the high standard of
colonial development as expressed in railways and steamers, motors and
good roads, is readily transferred to the more needy districts. At the
same time every now and then we hear laments that expansion is rendered
impossible owing to the lack of men.
When Lord Sanderson’s Commission took up the study of contract coolie
labour, the areas appealing for labour included the Gold Coast colony,
and the Government Secretary of the mines, Mr. Cogill, put in a plea that
the colony should be allowed to recruit labour for its mines from India.
In this plea he was supported by Sir John Rodger and the Acting-Governor,
Major Bryan. This application is not easy to understand, for everyone
knows, or should know, that Indian labour generally is unsuited to mining
work. There is, however, some reason to believe that the inspiration of
this plea came from sources requiring indentured labour from other parts
of the world, and that the demand for Indian coolie labour was put forth
in the hope of establishing necessity and thereby paving the way for a
less acceptable demand.
The bulk of labour in West Africa is employed under indenture or
contract, the majority of the latter being for three years, but a
great deal of unskilled labour is employed on a yearly, or in some
colonies—particularly the Portuguese—a five years’ contract. The latter
are paper contracts, and in practice may mean anything or nothing at all.
Very few unskilled labourers in Africa are prepared to accept willingly
a single contract of longer duration than one or at the most two years,
and if a contract system exists whereby labourers are bound for longer
periods at a single service, it may be generally assumed that some form
of pressure or intrigue has been at work.
Now that public attention is being focussed upon labour conditions,
it becomes increasingly imperative that Governments should lay down
the broad lines upon which they are prepared to allow contract labour.
Nor must the labourer only be considered, the employer has the right
to be heard in framing such conditions. In spite of much evidence to
the contrary, I am still inclined to the belief that, as a class, the
employers of labour everywhere in Africa detest as much as anyone labour
conditions which are unfair. Even the Portuguese planters of San Thomé
hate the slavery they practice, but by a long series of blunders they
have been led into their present position.
The greatest care requires to be exercised if contract labour is to be
kept free from the taint of slavery. The Indian authorities, in spite of
every precaution, frequently find that the most reprehensible practices
attach to the recruitment of labour for the East and West Indies. In the
African continent, where domestic slavery is so widely prevalent, the
need for watchfulness is a hundredfold greater.
[Sidenote: RECRUITING]
The conditions which govern the immigration of indentured labour should
differ but little from those which cover local contracts, with the
one exception that local labour contracts should always be of short
duration—never longer than a year. Contracts for over-sea labour must
be longer to cover the cost of transport, but even these are seldom
satisfactory to either employer or employee for a period longer than
three years. The Jamaican and Fiji indenture, which in practice involves
a contract of ten years, is for many reasons highly objectionable.
The chief danger is beyond question with the recruiters. In India
these men according to Mr. Broun,—an Indian Civil servant of large
experience—“are the worst kind of men they could possibly have. They are
generally very low class men.” They seem to bribe, deceive and bully by
turns, anything indeed to bring the Indian coolie into their toils. In
Portuguese West Africa the recruiter has for years been a slave-trader
pure and simple, purchasing slaves from the Congo rebels, and also from
the chiefs in the Rhodesian borderland. The Portuguese Government has
now issued a regulation that all such recruiters must be duly licensed.
In Belgian, German and French colonies, recruiting is undertaken very
largely by Government officials.
Recruiting—whether by the irresponsible recruiter, the licensed agent,
or by the Government official—calls for the closest attention of the
Administration. The official will demand from a chief, the unofficial
recruiter will bribe him for a given number of labourers; in the former
case the chief fears to refuse, in the latter he becomes a party to a
form of slavery.
The German official carries this operation through with the least amount
of sentiment. I asked a planter in the Cameroons whether he obtained
all the labour he wanted with a fair amount of ease. He looked at me
in astonishment, and replied, “With ease, of course. I only notify the
Government that I want labour and they bring it to me!” On another
occasion, when I was discussing Portuguese administration with a French
cotton planter from the Cunene, he began roundly abusing the Portuguese
Government, and upon my inquiring wherein they differed from the German
administration across the river, he replied, “The Germans stand no
nonsense over labour. If the native villages are small and distant from
the planters, they just burn down the villages and drive the natives
nearer the planters. The Government can then quite easily make a list of
the able-bodied men and supply them as they are required.” How far this
may be a general characteristic of German treatment of native races, I
cannot say, but what I have seen of German colonial methods does not
impress me that their occupation is far removed from a sort of military
despotism. In the matter of official recruitment of labour, the Germans
are by far the most vigorous of any of the West African Powers. In this
official recruitment the individual labourer concerned has very little
say indeed; that he should desire to enjoy his freedom is apparently no
concern of anyone, all he knows is that he has to work for the white man
for a given period, and in German South West Africa the “contract” must
be made “as long as possible.”
[Sidenote: DOMESTIC SLAVERY]
The hardships of contract labour are greatly increased by the prevalence
of domestic slavery. We are sometimes told that domestic slavery is
inseparable from native social life, and that from time immemorial it has
been an integral part of African law and custom. For that matter so has
cannibalism! There are many apologists for domestic slavery, including
students of such eminence as Mr. R. E. Dennett and the Editor of the
_African Mail_; the latter considers it would be foolish to abolish the
House Rule Ordinance—or in other words the legalization of domestic
slavery in Southern Nigeria. It is difficult to understand how a man with
Mr. Dennett’s experience could possibly write the paper on this question
which was reprinted in a journal of the Royal Colonial Institute. Mr.
Dennett knows, or should know, that the horrors of early history in the
middle Congo, the blood-curdling stories of Kumasi, the present-day
slavery of the Portuguese colonies and a thousand other labour scandals
rested and still rest in the ultimate resort upon domestic slavery. The
cheap sneers at the sentimentalist, the innuendo that they are mere
stay-at-home critics is entirely misplaced and no one knows this better
than Mr. R. E. Dennett.
Domestic slavery is slavery pure and simple, although I agree that
under the African chiefs it may not be so bad as under the old planter
systems. Front rank statesmen with large administrative experience have
recorded the lamentable results attaching to domestic slavery, and so
recently as 1906 Africa’s greatest constructive Administrator—the Earl of
Cromer—penned the following significant passage:—
“If the utility of the Soudan, considered on its own productive
and economic merits, is not already proved to the satisfaction
of the world—if it is not already clear that the reoccupation
of the country has inflicted, more perhaps than any other
event of modern times, a deadly blow to the abominable traffic
in slaves, and to the institution of domestic slavery,
_which is only one degree less hateful than that traffic_—it
may confidently be asserted that we are on the threshold of
convincing proof.”[9]
The broad lines of domestic slavery are common throughout West Central
Africa. The slave becomes the property of the head of the house or chief,
who can “contract” him to third parties without reference to the one
primarily concerned, that is to say the slave himself, who in turn cannot
hire out his labour without the consent of his master, and he may also be
transferred in payment of debt. Upon the death of the owner, the slaves
with their families—who are the property of the chief—are divided amongst
the heirs with other goods and chattels of the deceased. The domestic
slave can by native law everywhere, and by European law in some parts, be
recaptured if he runs away. According to British law the slave becomes
the property of the master in Southern Nigeria “by birth or in any other
manner.” This only legalizes native law, it is true, but “in any other
manner” throws the door widely open to a transfer of human beings in a
way highly repugnant to British sentiment.
[Sidenote: A REVOLTING CUSTOM]
In the middle Congo a system is rapidly extending which violates every
moral code in that it is none other than a wholesale prostitution. Under
this custom, known locally as that of the “Basamba,” a man hires out a
proportion of his wives on a monthly or yearly agreement. The basis is
the principle of absolute ownership; a weekly or a monthly “hire” in
cash, or its equivalent, is paid, and all the offspring handed over
to the husband and owner. Thus the owner, or husband, obtains first a
financial return for the hire of his surplus wives, and secondly he
claims the offspring. In the event of males, they become domestic slaves,
with which the chief may satisfy administrative and other demands for
labour; while in the case of girls the chief possesses a further source
of revenue either by hiring them out to “temporary husbands,” or by
purchasing other and older women for the same purpose. This method of
increasing the number of wives and slaves is by no means limited to the
middle Congo, but in no other part of West Africa were we able to find it
carried on so extensively. In those regions it is quite common to find
men with ten wives hired out in the different villages, and a few cases
exist of men who now carry on their trade with no less than fifty, and
even one hundred, such surplus wives!
[Illustration: A CONGO CHIEF WITH SOME OF HIS WIVES AND “BASAMBA”
CONCUBINES.]
There are other means of obtaining domestic slaves. Many of them are, of
course, “inherited,” and not a few are passed over as part dowry with a
wife; others are taken for debt and some are captured in tribal warfare.
The relation between contract labour and domestic slavery is more
intimate than appears on the surface. In West African practice an
employer desiring a given number of labourers invites or “calls” the
chief whom he informs of his requirements; if a merchant, he generally
accompanies his request for boys with a gift; if a Government official,
the demand more often than not is accompanied by a threat. At a later
date the chief returns with the required number of labourers. If asked
whether they are willing to work, they generally assent, for they fear
to oppose their chief who, even if European prestige were not behind him,
still possesses all the power of native law and customs—to say nothing of
the awe-inspiring fetish.
Admittedly, however, normal domestic slavery in Africa is widely removed
from predial slavery with which our school books made us familiar.
Eliminating from domestic slavery the sacrifices for which slaves were
always, and in some places are still, reserved; eliminating also European
demands for labour, the system is not everything that is bad, nor are
the chiefs invariably cruel and despotic towards their slaves. It is
nevertheless equally true that the frequency of “palavers” which deal
with escaping slaves is an evidence that the yoke of slavery is often
intolerable, and that in spite of native law, in spite of European law
and practice, and still more in spite of the fetish, the slaves attempt,
and sometimes make good their escape.
[Sidenote: SLAVE CAPTURE]
Over large areas in the British colony of Southern Nigeria the police
can, and do, recapture and restore such slaves to their owners, and two
years ago it came as a shock to many that an escaping slave seeking
refuge on the deck of a British Government ship could be forcibly
recaptured and restored to his master; not only so, but he was actually
flogged by British police for running away! It is, however, not
altogether an easy matter to secure recapture of runaway slaves under
British law, and therefore to the charge of “running away” is sometimes
added larceny—the theft of a canoe or a cloth; the canoe, of course,
being the boat by which the wretched slave made good his escape, and the
cloth that which he uses to cover his nakedness. The following is a fair
specimen of the warrants issued for the recapture of slaves in Southern
Nigeria:—
_COPY._ No. 1881
----
74
WARRANT TO ARREST ACCUSED.
Form 2.
In the Native Council of Warri, Southern Nigeria.
To..............................Officer of Court.
Whereas Joe of Lagos is accused of the offence of (1) running
away from the Head of his House two years ago; (2) Larceny of
cloth value 16_s._, two handkerchiefs, and a canoe. You are
hereby commanded to arrest the said Joe of Lagos and to bring
him before this Court to answer the said charge.
Issued at Warri, the 28th day of November, 1910.
(Signed): PERCY GORDON,
_Senior Member of Court_.
The British Government alone amongst the Powers in West Africa really
dislikes this system and shows some inclination to secure its abolition.
The Portuguese like it, and in the main descend to the level of it,
manipulating the system to suit, so far as possible, their labour
requirements. The Belgians cannot recognize it without violating the
Berlin and Brussels Acts, so they leave it alone to bring forth a whole
crop of abuses.
[Illustration: A HUNTER’S “LUCKY” FETISH.]
The Lieutenant-Governor of French Guinea has recently taken a strong line
upon the question of domestic slavery, which other Governments might
emulate. He has issued instructions to all his subordinate officials in
which he says:—
“We cannot allow the system of captivity to continue any
longer; it is a matter of duty as well as of dignity to put an
end to the present situation.... You are to profit by every
occasion which offers for making the captives understand that
it is immoral for one man to possess another.... Whenever you
or your colleagues make a journey you are to gather the natives
together and explain to them our wish.... In all cases which
are brought before you, you are resolutely to refuse to examine
those which relate to master and slave; make them understand
that for us there are no slaves, and that in justice and law we
only admit the relations of employer and employee. You are to
follow up with the utmost rigour all crimes committed against
human liberty, and to employ all the severity of the laws
against barbarous masters or slave-traders who are still too
numerous on the frontiers of neighbouring colonies.... Every
captive who appeals to your authority is to be welcomed by you
and protected against every abuse of force. You will disregard
every stipulation which in civil contracts, wills, etc., would
postulate the condition of family captivity.... There are no
longer any captives in Guinea—such is the formula which must
rule your conduct.”
If transfer to French Congo is a promotion, the quicker the French
Government promotes this enlightened official to that sphere, the better
for French reputation in that unhappy region.
[Sidenote: FORCED LABOUR]
In Africa forced labour, like contract labour, rests very largely
upon domestic slavery. What is generally understood by forced labour
is indistinguishable from the corvée of Germany, or from that which
obtained in earlier times in Prussia and France. It is simply a communal
undertaking upon works of general welfare, mainly roads from town to
town, although the word corvée was also applied to all feudal demands,
but in those cases some wages were given in return for the labour.
The old African communities exacted, and in many cases still exact,
labour from their domestic and agricultural slaves for which they were
and are paid, according to the whim or the benevolence of the chief. This
labour was, and is, devoted to the clearing of paths, keeping bridges
in repair, gathering harvests, porterage, canoeing, boat-building, and
indeed any undertaking which involves a considerable labour force. These
exactions, however, are always made at a time which avoids interference
with agricultural necessities; moreover, in the nature of the case, the
labour was never used very far from the village.
European administrations have stepped into West Africa, and have taken
the place of the chiefs, and in so doing have adopted corvée under the
plea of works of public utility—a blessed phrase which covers a multitude
of questionable “necessities.”
In the Gambia every able-bodied male is compelled under the penalty of a
fine, or six months’ imprisonment, to give labour for the construction
of roads, bridges, wells and clearings round the villages in his own
district. They must also provide carriers when required. Apparently the
Governor is the only arbiter of the time to be given to such works and
whether or not any remuneration may be made. In Southern Nigeria the
Governor may call up all able-bodied males between 15 and 50, and all
able-bodied women between 15 and 40, to give labour upon road-making and
creek-clearing for a period of six days each quarter. Refusal to obey
involves a fine of £1 or imprisonment not exceeding one month. Similar
regulations prevail in Northern Nigeria.
In German Togoland the natives must give twelve days a year, or commute
this by paying six marks; but the labour can only be used upon roads
and bridges in the district in which the labourers reside. Almost
identical regulations prevail in the French and Portuguese Congo. These
regulations—_qua_ regulations—are unobjectionable and, after all, only
assume powers exercised for generations by the chiefs. In practice,
however, under the term works of “public utility,” frequent and irregular
demands are constantly being made to the irritation of the people. Think
of what a single punitive expedition involves—no matter on how small a
scale. Modern weapons of warfare, ammunition, tent kits, provisions and
the thousand and one odds and ends of the modern paraphernalia of war,
all this is carried in the main by forced labour. I shall doubtless be
reminded that the chiefs always exacted labour for war. That I admit,
but “civilized warfare” is so infinitely more elaborate than the simple
native spear and arrow warfare, that they are not to be put in the same
category.
Carriers too are demanded in numbers and for distances which violate
every native restriction. It is but two years ago that a British official
in Southern Nigeria decided to start off upon a journey on Sunday
morning, and because the carriers did not come quickly enough, he marched
into the two nearest churches and seized the congregations, including
the native minister, and to demonstrate further his petty authority and
repugnance of loftier ideals, insisted on this native clergyman carrying
a box containing his whisky. At this distance it is the ludicrous which
probably strikes the imagination, but it is an entirely different matter
locally. The missionaries of Southern Nigeria, no matter what their
denomination, are of a very devout and noble-minded order; they have
instilled into the minds of the natives a deep reverence of all things
pertaining to worship, and nothing will ever efface from the native mind
that—to say the least—irreverent conduct of the representative of the
Christian Government of Great Britain.
It is difficult sometimes to discriminate between contract labour,
forced labour and slavery, the boundary lines having been obliterated
by vigorous administrations demanding labour for this and that work of
public utility, which in reality bear little relation to an enterprise
for the general welfare. In Belgian Congo this is carried further than
in any other West African colony. The Belgians insist that there is no
forced labour in the Congo, and this is perfectly true from the legal
point of view, but nevertheless almost the whole administrative machinery
and Government undertakings are maintained by forced labour. To roads
and bridges Belgium has added telegraphs, mines, plantations, and
recruitment for the army; the ranks of both—labourers and soldiers—being
filled almost entirely by forced labour.
[Sidenote: BELGIAN FORCED LABOUR]
Loud were the complaints made to us in our recent journeys through the
Congo of the incessant demands for labour by the Administration.
Wearied with a day of struggle through Congo forests and swamp, I was
resting one moonlight evening in the centre of a primitive Congo village;
a group of native chiefs were sitting round me discussing political
conditions. The absence of a certain token led me to question one
individual somewhat pointedly as to the cause.
“If I tell you, white man, you won’t betray me?”
“Your chief knows me well enough for that,” I replied.
“Well, there were eight of us,” he explained, “called by Bula Matadi. We
were bound to go, bound to leave our wives and our children and go down
river several days by steamer. When we arrived, the head white official
gave us a ‘book’ (contract) for three years, and sent us to cut a road
for the ‘Nsinga’ (telegraph wire). We worked for some days, discussing
every night how we could escape. One afternoon the white man went into
the forest and four of us who were working together ran down to the
river where we found an old canoe and one paddle hidden in the grass. We
crowded in and pushed off, one guiding the canoe with the single paddle,
whilst the others paddled with their hands. We managed to get into a
creek hiding ourselves until the next night, when, with the help of some
stout sticks for paddles, we began the long journey home, paddling in
the night and hiding ourselves and our canoe during the day. We lived
on roots and nuts for eight days, and then, when hiding in the forest,
we heard some women talking we ‘frightened’ them and they fled, leaving
their baskets behind. These contained palm nuts, on which we lived for
another six days. On the fifteenth day we reached home again, but our
people did not at first recognize us.”
“Why?”
“Because, white man,” chimed in the old chiefs, “they were so emaciated
that the flesh had shrunk from their cheek-bones, their ribs stood out
like skeletons, and they could barely speak.”
Such is Belgian forced “Contract Labour” in the Congo.
What are the boundary lines between legitimate forced labour and that
which public opinion, as trustee for native rights, should refuse to
tolerate?
The broad line of division is unquestionably between genuine works of
public utility on the one hand, and profit-bearing works on the other.
Road-making, bridge-building, creek-clearing, are all of them works from
which the whole community benefits, but the requisition of this labour
should not be left to the arbitrary will of a temporary official, but
subject to clearly-defined regulations. Any legislation upon forced
labour for works undertaken for the public good should only permit the
requisition, in lieu of taxation, as is the case in German Togoland,
where the native has the alternative of paying a head tax of six marks
per annum or giving his labour for twelve days, subject to the labour
being required for the improvement of his own district.
As in Ceylon and other British colonies, the natives should be allowed
to commute the labour by a money payment. To labour exacted under these
rigid conditions, there can assuredly be no strong objection, and,
generally speaking, the native tribes would loyally co-operate in such
proposals.
[Sidenote: FORCED LABOUR AND PROFITS]
To employ forced labour upon any kind of work which carries with it a
financial advantage partakes of slavery. A merchant obtaining forced
labour at his own price is thereby, in principle, engaging in slavery,
and if by obtaining such labour he is able to enter into unfair
competition, he is further guilty of doing a gross injustice to his
fellow-merchants. The Belgians are extremely prone to this form of
labour. In the Congo there is a good deal of State commercial enterprise,
which may yet ruin the individual merchant. The Belgian Government is
doing the larger proportion of transport on the vast fluvial system of
the Congo, and thereby competes with the Dutch House and other transport
companies.
These transport steamers are all driven with wood fuel cut from the
forests. Every few miles along the banks of the Congo river there may
be seen stacks of fire logs cut into lengths of about eighteen inches,
which have been either cut by the employees of the Government or by the
villagers. No company is permitted to purchase Government wood, and
ordinary steamers purchasing from the villagers have to pay 2 francs a
fathom for such fuel. Journeying down the Congo a few months ago, three
of us carefully examined conditions at one of the wooding posts, manned
by twenty-six men and ten women, most of whom had been “demanded” from
the chiefs in more distant parts of the Congo, and drafted to the spot
in question. Several had already served three years—the nominal term
of the contract—but, without any option in the matter, their contracts
had been renewed. Each of the men had to cut one fathom of wood per
diem; some were paid 7 francs and others only 5 francs a month, with a
3-francs allowance for food. The maximum cost, therefore, was 10 francs
for the thirty fathoms of wood cut in the month. Thus the State provides
itself with wood at a fraction over threepence per fathom, for which
company steamers must pay 2 francs. Under such systems not only are
human liberties violated, but commerce suffers prejudice. There is not a
little danger that the Belgian authorities intend giving a considerable
extension to State enterprises, which in all probability will be
prosecuted with this form of forced labour.
The question of State railways and telegraph lines is a difficult one,
both partaking of works of public utility, yet both are as a rule
profit-bearing. There is the further consideration that all profits go
to relieve local taxation. Given representative Government or given even
an elective element in the Administration, there may be some justice in
imposing this form of forced labour upon the general community, but under
the autocratic systems of Crown Colony Administration, large demands
for forced labour cause, not unnaturally, widespread disaffection.
Fortunately British colonies are almost entirely free from the employment
of such labour and to this no doubt is due the excellent management of
all railway systems under British control.
The most economic and the most politic line to follow is that of the
employment of free labour. Supervision is reduced to a minimum, abuses of
authority are rare, the work goes more smoothly, the song takes the place
of the boot and the lash, the native labourer goes home when the day’s
toil is over vowing vengeance on no one, and the white man returns to his
somewhat primitive home with a mind undisturbed by conscious wrong-doing.
II
LAND AND ITS RELATION TO LABOUR
It will not, I think, be contested that throughout West Africa there is
no native conception of private ownership of land. This is almost an
article of religious faith amongst the African races generally. Let one
tribe murder a member of another community and a palaver will be called
and compensation paid. If wife-stealing or kidnapping of boys takes
place, the tribes involved will remain calm and settle their dispute by
making peaceful and honourable amends. Let one tribe exploit the palm, or
without leave settle on the lands of another, and, on the instant, the
ultimatum is despatched—“Depart forthwith, or accept the alternative!”
Indeed the occupation of the communal lands of another tribe is
recognized by most tribes as an overt act of warfare, the signal that all
negotiations for peace are at an end.
Perhaps no more eloquent testimony of the attachment of native tribes
to their lands is to be found anywhere than in the great Equatorial
regions of the Congo. The early ’eighties witnessed in the Congo basin
three convulsive movements; the entrance of the white man from the west,
following on Stanley’s journey across the continent; the incursion of the
Arabs from the north, and the Lokele wars towards the south. This latter
movement was destined to change the whole situation in the Equatorial
regions, south of the main Congo. The Lokeles, probably pressed by
the Arabs from the north, started a “land war” with their southern
neighbours, the object being to obtain an extension of tribal land. This
pressure set in motion a land war, which ultimately extended over an area
nearly five times the size of Great Britain and ran right through the
south reaching down to the Lukenya river, and in some places even across
the greatest of the southern tributaries—the Kasai. Tribes fought each
other for the maintenance of their ancient boundaries until the whole of
the Equatorial region was in a state of warfare, which only ceased when
starvation claimed victims by the thousand. Then only were boundaries
re-adjusted by peaceful agreements; even so the whole population for
months was in such dire straits for food, that men sold their wives, and
mothers their children, for a single basket of manioca. One realizes how
passionately the natives are attached to their lands as they recount the
horrors of those terrible years. Said one to me recently—“At first we
fought to protect our lands, but in the end we had to fight to obtain
‘meat’—human flesh—to stay the pangs of hunger.”
[Sidenote: FIXED LAND BOUNDARIES]
The native boundaries are almost invisible to the European eye, but to
the African student of nature those boundaries are fixed and immovable as
the eternal hills. The limits of tribal lands, within the orbit of which
the clans may move and hunt whenever they will, are the stream, the palm
plantation, the hilly range and the bridges across streams and rivers.
Upon the chief and his advisers devolves the sacred duty of maintaining
intact these tribal lands, alienation being foreign to the native ideas.
So jealously is this guarded that many paramount chiefs in native law
have no power to grant even occupancy rights. For six months the cession
of Lagos to the British Crown was held up because King Docemo had signed
a treaty which appeared to violate this principle of native law. The
population declared that the ownership of the land of Lagos was not
vested in the paramount chief, but in the seven White Cap chiefs, who,
fearing the terrible consequences of alienating the tribal lands, fled to
the bush. It became necessary for the British representatives to give the
most explicit assurances and sacred promises on the point, in order to
secure the ratification of the treaty of cession.
It is perfectly true that titles have been granted to native tribes and
to white men, but it is equally true that originally there was never
the remotest idea that this involved the European conception of total
alienation. In the Holt _v._ Rex case of Southern Nigeria, the Crown
held that “under native law strangers cannot obtain freehold rights—only
occupancy rights.” The tribal conception of occupancy rights also carries
with it the communal idea; a native clan settling by permission within
the territory of another tribe really constitutes the first step in
progressive incorporation. In the first instance of white settlers, there
are abundant stories of the native interpretation of this principle—some
of them distinctly objectionable, although there were pure motives behind
them; others are amusing, such as that of the chiefs “borrowing” saws,
axes, string, rope, nails and what not. Again and again they have freely
and openly helped themselves to palm nuts and other produce from the
white man’s ground. No doubt much of what the European calls “pilfering”
was really quite innocently founded upon the communal conception of the
primitive races.
The impetuous scramble for African territory, which began thirty years
ago, made, and continues to make, a considerable breach in this old
primitive system. White men, acting through the doubtful medium of
interpreters not infrequently corrupted in advance, have secured from
chiefs titles to land of all dimensions. These chieftains, as a whole,
never fully grasped the meaning of the titles obtained with honeyed
words, and which they are now unable to repudiate. That this is so is
partly proved by the fact that in some colonies areas have been conceded
twice and even three times over. Swaziland is, of course, the most
flagrant example, where it will be remembered a situation so complex was
created that it ultimately became impossible for any Court to decide as
to who were the real owners of specific areas.
In West Africa things are not, and never can be, quite so bad, although
in some colonies, the Gold Coast for example, German Cameroons and French
Congo, land difficulties are being piled up for the endless confusion of
future administrators. In Belgian Congo there is no immediate probability
of trouble, due partly to the fact that capital has little confidence in
Belgium’s heritage, but more because the major part of the population has
disappeared.
[Sidenote: LAND AND LABOUR]
There is a vital connection between land and labour in all tropical
and sub-tropical colonies. The economic future of native races is
immobilized in the proportion in which their lands are taken from them.
The almost phenomenal success of the cocoa industry in the British
colony of the Gold Coast is due entirely to the fact that the natives
are the proprietors of the cocoa farms. Throughout the colonial world,
there is no more striking contrast between a landed and a landless
native community than the British Gold Coast colony and the neighbouring
Portuguese colony of San Thomé. In both territories cocoa flourishes,
both produce excellent cocoa, in both nature is very kind, but while the
one will march on conquering the cocoa markets of the world, the other is
doomed to ultimate disaster.
The San Thomé cocoa producer is only a labourer—in fact a slave—and he
is perishing at such a rate that the depleted ranks must be filled from
outside sources to the number of 3000 to 4000 labourers every year. This
constant inflow of labour cannot continue indefinitely, even if European
sentiment permitted—which it will not—the revolting concomitants by which
this labour has been maintained. The economic future of these colonies
from which the supplies are drawn will soon forbid the emigration which
at present is necessary to the island of San Thomé The population of the
Gold Coast, on the other hand, happy in the enjoyment, in the main, of
its own lands, reproduces and to some extent even increases itself every
year. The native occupies his rightful place as producer, while the white
man finds his true sphere, first as the inspirer of native efforts to
place on the market cocoa of increasingly good quality, secondly as the
medium by which the cocoa produced is conveyed to the manufacturer, and
thirdly that by which surplus European manufactures are brought to the
door of the native in exchange for his products.
This relationship of land to labour is receiving increasing recognition
by students of colonial policy. The Republican Government of Portugal,
finding both labour and land problems in hopeless confusion in the
African colonies, has recently introduced a comprehensive measure
embracing both factors in the development of African colonies. The
ordinance is probably too generous in proportions to be carried through
effectively in any colony, and stands little chance of complete
application in Portuguese colonies, which suffer already from an excess
of legislation, coupled with a rooted contempt for “Lisbon dictation.”
This new ordinance, however, is a valuable contribution to West African
legal literature.
The Provisional Government first lays down the proposition that every
native in the Portuguese colonies is under “a moral and legal obligation
to work.” The proposition upon land is in the following terms: “In all
the Provinces beyond the seas, wherever there are public lands vacant,
uncultivated, and not used for any special purpose, natives may occupy
and cultivate them subject to conditions laid down in the present
ordinance.”
The native in Portuguese colonies, therefore, must work. The sphere of
labour he may choose, but idleness is henceforth a punishable offence.
Women, sick men, minors under fourteen years of age, chiefs and those
in regular employment, are either exempt from the operation of the
ordinance or deemed to have fulfilled its obligations.
Any native may contract his services, but, in the first instance, for
a period limited to two years. The agreement is null and void unless
the wages are fixed and recorded in the contract. Any clause giving the
employer the right to administer corporal punishment likewise renders
the contract invalid. The engagement may be made with or without the
assistance of Government officials, but any document signed in the
presence of a Government authority carries with it both the right and
the responsibility of official intervention in any subsequent dispute
between the parties. If, however, the contracting parties enter into
the agreement without reference to the authorities, the employer cannot
look for official assistance in disputes with the employés, although
the latter under all circumstances may rely upon official protection
and assistance. All contracts must bear the impress of the labourer’s
thumb. Wages may not be withheld, nor may pressure be exerted to force
merchandize upon the employé in lieu of wages.
Recruiting agents must obtain a licence from the Governor of the
province, and any infraction of this section of the ordinance is
punishable by a fine of £100 to £1000. A heavier penalty still awaits
any recruiting agent who attempts to contract labourers for prescribed
regions: presumably that death-trap of Portuguese colonies, the island of
Principe. The punishment for such violation may be imprisonment for one
year, a fine of £200, and at the expiration of the term of imprisonment,
expulsion from the colony. Similar penalties await any agent contracting
labourers beyond the bounds of his judicial area.
The Republican Government evidently realizes that contract labour,
however benevolent it may be made to appear on paper, is not always a
heavenly condition, and that the labourer may repent of his bargain
before expiration. Section 18 provides for almost every concomitant
which attaches to restrained labour. The pill, however, is sugared by
a preliminary and somewhat unctuous preamble, that the whole trend of
employment must be that of “moral education.” In pursuance of this
laudable object, powers of arrest are conferred, “precautions” against
running away are permitted, and if a second offence occurs, the offender,
“when caught,” may be taken to the authorities “to be chastised.” There
are, however, certain limits to these powers, for the employer may
neither shackle nor chain an employé, nor may he deprive the labourers of
food, nor impose any fines which involve deductions from wages.
If the native of the Portuguese colonies dislikes the yoke of any master,
he may, like Adam, “till the soil,” for, as already stated, all vacant
public and uncultivated lands are at the disposal of the colonists. The
first general restriction is that this liberty is only open to those
“who do not possess immovable property to the value of £10.” The object
of this restriction is nowhere elucidated, but apparently it is that of
fixing the population upon definite areas.
[Sidenote: LEASEHOLD BECOMES FREEHOLD]
If, then, the native does not possess immovable property to that amount,
he may occupy a piece of land measuring 2¼ acres for himself, and an
additional acre for every member of his family with the exception of
males above fourteen years of age.
A man with two wives, a mother, three daughters, and also three sons
under fourteen years of age, could occupy under this regulation a
little over ten acres, but the occupation must be an effective one. A
dwelling-house must be erected, and two-thirds of the area must be under
cultivation, otherwise the title becomes void, and the authorities will
expel the occupants. The right of occupancy is inalienable.
During the first five years of occupation, the colonist is exempt from
all dues, but at the close of this period taxation is levied and may
be paid either in cash or kind. Failure to pay these dues renders the
occupier liable to eviction without any compensation for improvements.
After an occupation of twenty years, characterized by the fulfilment
of all legal responsibilities, the occupier automatically acquires the
freehold. These cultivators or small holders are exempt from serving
either in the army or the police; they are likewise freed from any form
of forced labour, hammock carrying, or paddling, but they are not exempt
from taking part in military operations with their respective chiefs,
when such expeditions are undertaken by command of the authorities.
District commissioners, civil and military officials are urged to induce
natives to avail themselves of the land provisions, and are empowered
to assign them plots of land. They are also instructed to prepare local
regulations safeguarding the rights of the colonists, compile land
registers, etc., for which no fees are to be exacted from the natives.
If a native will not labour for another, if he will not sow a field
or trade in produce, if in short he is only prepared to stretch forth
an unwashed hand and mutter “Matabeesh, Senhor!” then the official
representative of the Government will deal with him. The danger is that
other than “wastrels” may be swept into the official net, particularly
whilst such operations are so highly profitable to the Portuguese
colonies.
First the delinquent is summoned to answer the charge of idling without
visible means of support; then the paternal authorities are to read him
a homily on “moral education,” and forthwith despatch him to a place
where work is waiting for him. If he still refuses to work he may be sent
to “correctional labour.” There he will receive food and lodging and
be given one-third the market rate of wages. “Correctional labourers”
may, according to Section 58, be hired out by private persons upon the
same terms as the prisoners of State. Such persons willing to employ
“correctional labourers” are requested to make formal application, but
only those are eligible to receive such labourers who have never been
convicted in any court. If they receive such labourers a given sum _per
capita_ must be paid to the State and a fine of £20 paid for any shortage
in “returns” alive or dead, the number hired out must be returned to the
Authorities. If, however, escape is feared, the correctional labourers
may be returned to State prisons each night.
If the whole ordinance is to be applied to the Portuguese colonies in a
measure of completeness hitherto foreign to the Portuguese possessions,
then there is some hope that even the leopard may be able to change his
spots.
[Sidenote: HUMAN VALUES]
There is little likelihood that the Portuguese land laws will be rendered
effective on the spot, especially when we remember that many thousands
of miles throughout which such laws are intended to operate are not yet
under any sort of administrative control. The step which is finding most
favour in British West African colonies is that of declaring all lands,
whether occupied or not, as native land under some sort of ultimate
trusteeship of the Governor for the benefit of the natives. No purpose
can be served by denying that this would place very large powers in the
hands of a single individual, even though the powers so conferred may
only be exercised “in accordance with native law and custom.” It would
beyond question give to the Governor powers which in the hands of some
individuals might be exceedingly dangerous.
The majority of British Governors of Crown colonies could undoubtedly be
allowed to supersede the paramount chiefs in every respect, providing
the constitution of the Crown colonies permitted the bringing into full
play of this one vital condition, viz. that his actions would always be
“in accordance with native law and custom,” but Crown Colony government
excludes at present any form of representative government which is the
unwritten law of every African tribe.
Docemo, and his successor Prince Eleko, in Southern Nigeria, exacted,
and exact to-day, an abject obeisance from their counsellors, which,
if demanded by a British Governor, would secure his prompt recall. No
chieftain, whether he be Mohammedan or Pagan, ever enters the presence
of the native Council Chamber of Lagos without prostrating himself flat
upon the ground and kissing it three times before receiving permission to
sit down. Yet this paramount chief could not alienate a square yard of
land without the sanction of his advisers.
No British Governor is at present in this position. In practice, his
powers under Crown Colony government are in the ultimate resort absolute
and uncontrolled, except by question, answer and debate, in the British
House of Commons. When, however, the subject-matter reaches this stage,
the man on the spot has probably already committed the Government, and
the department is therefore bound to defend him.
Admittedly, somebody must protect the native from the wiles of
unscrupulous white speculators, no less than from the subtle and
treacherous conduct of individual natives. It is the duty of the
Governor, as the responsible authority of the Crown and trustee of native
welfare, to do this; let him by all means have power to prevent the
alienation of land and to grant occupancy rights, but under a system of
government which will give the natives themselves that which they possess
by native law and custom—a collective voice in such decisions. It should
not be beyond the wit of man to frame a system of governmental control
over native tribal lands which would satisfy the great mass of the
people, for let it never be forgotten that Africans in the aggregate are
reasonable and by no means difficult to deal with along lines which are
demonstrably equitable.
[Illustration: PRINCE ELEKO AND COUNCIL, SOUTHERN NIGERIA.]
III
PORTUGUESE SLAVERY
In Portuguese West Africa one sees the best and the worst treatment of
native races. The best for the free native, the best for the educated
coloured man and the best for the coloured woman. In every other
colony—and in this respect British colonies are becoming the worst—race
prejudice not only prevails but is on the increase. In the Portuguese
colonies there is a pleasing absence of race prejudice; natives of equal
social status are as freely admitted to Portuguese institutions as white
men; the hotels, the railways, the parks and roads possess no colour-bar,
and if the Portuguese colonies could be purged of their foul blot of
slavery, the natives of other African colonies might well envy their
fellows in Portuguese Africa. Alongside intimate social relations with
the native is a widespread plantation slavery in Angola, San Thomé and
Principe.
[Sidenote: ANGOLA]
Angola, one of the largest political divisions of West Africa, is bounded
on the north by the Congo, the east by Rhodesia and on the south by
German Damaraland; a considerable section of the northern territory,
including the whole Lunda country, comes within the operations of the
General Act of Berlin. Apart from the Lunda province and strips of land
bordering the rivers, the colony cannot be said to give any promise of
an agricultural future, although if one nation is adept over all others
in turning wastes into gardens, that nation is the Portuguese, to whom
gardens and plantations are second nature. A Portuguese house without
its shady vinery, its delicate fernery and luxuriant kitchen garden is
unthinkable; even the little children in the streets, instead of building
castles and grottos, find infinite delight in laying out miniature
gardens, in which they arrange flowers and ferns with artistic taste.
Economically, however, Angola does not pay, its finances are like many of
its old houses—very unstable and subject to leakage. Walk its streets,
visit its families, Government departments or merchants’ houses, and
certain it is that every other man you meet will remind you forcibly of
Micawber. The Portuguese community in any part of Angola can be roughly
classed as the Moneylenders and Borrowers. Each, however, appears to be
supremely happy and lives in absolute assurance that something will turn
up every day to render life more agreeable.
Loanda, the capital, is a strange admixture of ancient and modern
dwellings, old churches, a roofless theatre and dilapidated bull-rings.
But despite its shortcomings, the Portuguese have made Loanda the most
restful health-restoring sea-port in West Africa. Boma, the capital of
the Congo, is distant only twenty-four hours’ steam, but it is surely
the most unhealthy and the most foodless place in Africa. The Belgians,
if they liked, might supply fresh provisions to its starving and dying
population,—for everyone in Boma is dying, it is only a question of
time. In Boma, fowls, eggs, fruit, fish and vegetables are priceless,
while every day shiploads can be purchased very cheaply in Loanda, and if
shipped twice a week to the Lower Congo, would at least make life, though
short, more comfortable.
[Illustration: LAND FORMATION, LOANDA, PORTUGUESE ANGOLA.]
There is one place every visitor to Loanda should inspect—the old Dutch
Church dedicated to “The Lady of our Salvation.” Some American dollars
would be well spent in preserving this relic, for it is one of the many
instances which demonstrate that slaving was a pious occupation in the
early seventeenth century. The whole of the interior was once composed of
blue and white tiles of pictorial design, and one on the north wall of
the chancel is still complete; this apparently represents the conquest
of Angola by the Dutch, who are seen in broad-brimmed hats, braided
coat-tails and parade boots, fighting and slaughtering the hosts of
savages. The whole operation against the unfortunate infidels is being
directed, and presumably blessed, by the Lady of our Salvation enthroned
in the clouds.
If Portuguese enterprise has made Loanda a restful spot for weary
travellers, British capital—in the person Robert Williams—has turned an
unknown strip of desert land into a nourishing sea-port now known as
Lobito Bay. It is from this port, with excellent anchorage and transport
facilities, that the West Coast will connect with the Cape railway. This
Lobito—Katanga railway, though it has only completed some 450 of the 1200
miles to Katanga, promises commercial success when opened, for it should
then constitute the cheapest transport route to Rhodesia and the Congo;
that is unless the Portuguese, with their usual short-sighted economic
policy, kill the enterprise with tariffs before it has had a real chance
of life.
There are only two other ports of any consequence in Portuguese
Angola—Mossamedes and Benguella; the latter a harbour with perpetual
“rollers” which make a stay on board anything but a comfortable
experience. The town itself, like most Portuguese institutions, is
going to ruin: the only redeeming feature being the maintenance of its
public gardens, fountains and Eucalyptus avenues. Catumbella, an inland
town, lies midway between Lobito Bay and Benguella, and with the latter
town, constituted the principal centre of the slave-trade. The old
slave-compounds and prison-houses confront the traveller in every part of
Catumbella and Benguella, and although many have fallen into disuse, some
still have the appearance of occasional occupation.
[Sidenote: PORTUGUESE “HOTELS”]
Loanda, Lobito and Benguella all possess “hotels.” Those of the capital
proper are a strange mixture of cleanliness, tobacco-ash and half-hidden
dirt, but at least they are free from the presence of those unfortunate
white women who intrude themselves with such persistence on the attention
or inattention of passing white travellers in Benguella, and live by
running accounts paid irregularly by white men in that most loathsome
of all towns in West Africa. Those wishing to visit Benguella should
order their rooms months ahead and not be surprised if on arrival Senhor
has forgotten all about the order and has neither room nor bed at his
disposal. A sound and vigorous rating, however, will generally extort a
promise of a room somewhere, a promise which will seldom be fulfilled
until all other guests have retired to beds severally robbed of one
portion or another to make up an incomplete set for the newly-arrived
guests. Nor must the tired travellers be surprised if a black boy enters
the bedroom, without knocking, and demands the “other master’s pillow,”
only to be followed later by another woolly pate thrust round the doorway
sleepily requesting the surrender of a counterpane or towel, for yet
“another master.”
[Illustration: CHANCEL AND NORTH WALL OF DISUSED DUTCH CHURCH, LOANDA.
_See p. 171._]
It is useless to expostulate with the hotel manager, who will reply with
a veritable flood of apologies and threaten to break the head, and neck
if necessary, of every black boy in the place, and yet the guest knows
with mathematical certainty that he will again have to go through the
same course of torture before getting a troubled sleep on that straw
mattress in yonder whitewashed room. This is the whole trouble with the
Portuguese, commercially and diplomatically; their eternal protestations
of sincerity, integrity and courtesy on the one hand, and, on the other,
a total incapability of observing the most sacred promises. It is an
old story, the same which confronted Wellington in the early nineteenth
century. The Portuguese is very like the African; you despair of curing
him of his weaknesses—which are, after all, seldom intentionally
vicious—and yet you love him, because his kindly nature compels you.
The chief interest for the British public in Portuguese colonies arises
from two distinct causes—financial interests and treaty obligations.
Our financial interests are not large; they involve certain railway
schemes, the supply of labour for the Transvaal mines, and a few
plantation and merchant enterprises. Our treaty obligations, binding
us in definite alliance with Portugal, may at any moment involve Great
Britain in a grave international situation. The value, or otherwise, of
such an alliance is open to a difference of opinion. It is, however,
imperative that our ally should observe all moral standards which the
civilized Powers are pledged to maintain with all the forces at their
disposal. Travellers, consuls, merchants, sea captains and government
officials have repeatedly called attention to the prevailing slavery
and slave-trade in Portuguese West Africa; both of which detestable
practices are in gross violation of Anglo-Portuguese treaties, the
Brussels and Berlin Acts. All, or any, of the civilized Powers can at any
moment—and in point of responsibility should—intervene and demand the
abolition of slavery in Angola, San Thomé and Principe, and if Portugal
continued to beg the question by calling slavery by some other name, that
Power, or those Powers, could, if they so desired, shake her out of her
indifference by casting the anchor of a battleship in sight of the ports
of San Thomé and St. Paul de Loanda. I am not advocating such a course
for one moment, but it is vital that the British public should realize
that in the event of any Power signatory to anti-slavery Conventions
waking up for any reason, disinterested or otherwise, to treaty
obligations, and making some effort to discharge those liabilities, such
Power would be at once confronted by the possibility of Britain’s navy
defending Portuguese colonies, although run by slave labour. A pretty
spectacle indeed, Britain’s matchless fleet defending the slaver, only
wanting old Jack Hawkins on the Bridge, to complete the picture!
[Illustration: COCOA CARRYING, BELGIAN CONGO.]
[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO COCOA ROÇA, PRINCIPE ISLAND. (PORTUGUESE.)]
[Sidenote: MAINLAND SLAVERY]
Portugal shares with every other West African Power the problem of
shortage of labour and with it the short-sighted energy of the impatient
employer, who, beyond the ken of the official eye, frequently resorts
to illegal means for increasing his supply. Domestic slavery survives
in Portuguese Angola as well as in Nigeria, and in Belgian and French
Congo. One can only estimate very roughly the slave population of Africa,
but probably not less than a million human beings are to-day ignorant
of the blessings of personal liberty. Mr. Nevinson, in his admirable
book on “Modern Slavery,” says of Angola alone, “including the very
large number of natives who, by purchase or birth, are the family slaves
of the village chiefs and other fairly prosperous natives, we might
probably reckon at least half the population as living under some form
of slavery.” We cannot acquit many Powers in Africa from the charge of
profiting administratively from this form of human chattelage, but when
Portugal sets up a _tu quoque_ plea we are compelled to differ. The
dividing line between the Powers is that whilst many of them profit by
this practice occasionally and for restricted periods, the Portuguese
descend to the lowest level, adopt the native practice themselves and
thus become not the “hirers,” but the owners. In this way they endeavour
to meet their interminable shortage in the labour supply. To what lengths
they are prepared to carry this system may be gathered from the report
of Professor A. Prister in the _Hamburger Fremden-Blatt_ for 28th July,
1906:—“In Angola, even in San Paolo de Loanda, under the eyes of the
Governor, the Bishop and the high officials,” he alleges, are to be
found “regular ‘bridewells’ for the production of slaves.” One of these,
he says, he visited on the estate of “one of the richest Portuguese,”
sixteen miles from Loanda. There he saw a large number of women, with
only a few men, at work. “Each woman has a little hut, in a courtyard
enclosed by a wall, in which she lives with her young ones. The woman is
always pregnant, and carries her last child on her back, during work, in
Kaffir manner. The overseer of this plantation, who treated me in every
respect with Portuguese friendliness, and took me for a great admirer of
his breeding establishment, told me that about four hundred negroes were
there, and added with a laugh that he had over a hundred young ones in
the compound. This is just as if a cattle-breeder were boasting of the
fine increase in his herds. When the young one is so far grown up that he
can be put to some use, at from six to eight years of age, he enters into
a so-called contract, or he steps quite simply into the place of a dead
serviçal. For instance, Joseph is told that his name is no more Joseph
but Charles, and immediately the dead Charles is replaced. He never fell
ill; he never died; he only lives a second life.” It is to be hoped that
such incidents are rare even in Angola, but it brings home forcibly to
the British mind the sort of colonies the “matchless navy” of Great
Britain may be called upon one day to defend.
[Sidenote: CONTRACT LABOUR AND SLAVERY]
Certain apologists of the Portuguese are very fond of comparing the
British indentured labour system with labour conditions on the Angolan
mainland and the islands. The labour system of the East and West Indies
are by no means ideal, but there is a world of difference, not only in
the daily management of this labour, but fundamentally.
In San Thomé the contracted labourer from Angola is a slave: he calls
himself a slave, and the Mozambique free man holds him in contempt as a
slave; either he was captured, or purchased on the mainland with cash
by the plantation owners just as men purchase cattle or capture wild
animals. Every single slave with whom I spoke, both on the mainland and
on the islands, gave me the clearest account, replete with convincing
detail, of the manner in which he or she had been either kidnapped or
purchased. Not a few of the slaves had “changed hands” several times
before the ultimate sale to the planter.
THE SLAVE’S CASE
In the back streets of Angolan ports, on the highways of Lobito and
Benguella, and in the shady by-paths of Catumbella, the traveller may at
any time penetrate the secrets of the tragedies which attach themselves
to the souls of men and women who have lost their freedom. The same
tragedies but with attendant secrets darker still, are locked within the
breasts of the slaves on the Portuguese cocoa islands in the Gulf of
Guinea. There by the roadside, on the banks of crystal streams, up in the
cocoa roças, and along the valleys thick with cocoa-trees, the traveller
has abundant opportunities for penetrating the secrets of the miserable
slaves.
[Sidenote: THE VOICE OF THE SLAVE]
Behind the mountainous coast of Angola, the town of Novo Redondo hides
itself in a hollow, as if ashamed of its history, or perhaps so that its
traffic in human beings during past centuries might escape the attention
of watchful cruisers. There, amongst a group of slaves and freemen, I met
a woman with a story more eloquent than others because it was also so
recent, so vivid and so forceful. She had not been long on the coast, for
only a few months ago she had for the first time witnessed the Atlantic
breakers tossing themselves with their impetuous fury on that strip of
rocky shore. The hour was that of the mid-day rest, and the woman was
sitting sadly apart from the other labourers. A glance at her attitude,
coiffure and other characteristics rendered her a somewhat singular
figure in that group of serviçaes, still there was a familiarity which
surely could not be mistaken—somewhere in Central Africa those cicatrized
arms, that braided head, had a tribal home.
“True, white man, I have come from far; from the land of great rivers and
dark forests.”
“How were you enslaved?” I asked.
“They charged me with theft and then sold me to another tribe, and they
in turn to a black trader. This man drove me for many ‘moons’ along the
great road until a white man at D⸺ bought me and sent me here.”
“Where am I going now? Who can tell? I suppose I shall be sold to a
planter.”
There was no need of the slave’s reiterated assertion that she had been
nearly ten months marching down to the coast; the locality of her tribe
was plainly set forth on the forearm by the indelible cicatrizing knife
of her race. The journey from the Batetela tribe of the Congo to the
shores of Novo Redondo cannot be much less than 1,500 miles. This was one
of the most recent cases we discovered and shows that the slave trade in
Portuguese territory is a question of the moment.
Fifty years ago, it is said, a ragged urchin ran the streets of San
Thomé, holding sometimes for a five _reis_ piece, sometimes for as many
kicks, the heads of mules and horses for the affluent slave-planters
of that island. That ragged urchin to-day possesses a mansion in three
capitals of Europe, and a stately car rushes to and fro with the
sovereign lord of some thousands of slaves. The sycophants, time-servers,
and others of the crowd of parasitic admirers, who cluster round this
august person, care little for the misery beneath that sordid splendour.
His wretched slaves spend their days from 5.30 in the morning until
sunset cultivating cocoa, that their master may fare sumptuously every
day in Europe, and finance dethroned Royalty which is not ashamed to use
these ill-gotten funds in half-hearted endeavours to regain a discredited
crown. The slaves know nothing of this; one thing only they know is that
when the bell rings at sunrise they must devote their energies to the
production of the cocoa bean until sunset, and that this weary monotony
has in it not a glimmer of hope of cessation.
Along that picturesque road, known as the Mother of God road
(philosophers might give us some reason why the slavers in all history
annex the Holy Virgin), we once met a group of slaves with a sadness
written on their faces which seemed almost to cry out, “We are lost
souls.”
“Are you well fed?”
“Yes, white man, we are fed.”
“Housed?”
“Yes.”
“Are you freemen?”
“No, we are only slaves.”
“Would you like your liberty?”
“Aye, would we not, but Master won’t liberate us.”
Amongst that group was one old man quite grey, who declared he had been
on the islands over thirty years, and his conversation so interested
me that I asked him to describe his journey to the coast. This, though
a story over thirty years old, was full of terrible interest. The old
man had by this time gained some confidence, and when speaking of the
district where he was first sold I became convinced that his home was in
the far hinterland of the Congo. With unexpected suddenness I startled
him by uttering one of the rhythmic morning greetings of his native
tongue. The old man started at first, as if struck with a whip, then,
like a man half awake, he appeared to reach after some unseen thing; then
at last it suddenly broke in upon him that the language he had heard was
the music of his boyhood; his wrinkled old face was wreathed in smiles,
his tired eyes lit up, and then in short animated sentences he poured
forth question after question.
“Oh! white man, tell me about Luebo, tell me about Basongo.”
“Tell me is Kalamba still alive?”
The impetuosity of the questions, the lively gestures, the hungering look
in those brown eyes showed how the old man thirsted for information of
his little village away on the banks of the broad Kasai.
[Illustration: SLAVES ON SAN THOMÉ.]
[Illustration: DISUSED SLAVE COMPOUND IN REAR OF HOUSE, CATUMBELLA.]
The island of Principe has a horror all its own, for it is infested with
the dread sleeping sickness. Conditions are so bad that the Portuguese
dare not send the free labourers from Mozambique, lest their current of
labour from that part of West Africa should take alarm and cease. White
men and women are fleeing from danger, but the authorities still keep
slaves within biting distance of the fever impregnated fly. Dr. Correa
Mendes, a courageous Portuguese medical authority, has urged that every
living animal should be killed as the only hope of saving Principe; but
none have yet dared to propose the liberation of the slaves.
The slaves of Principe present an even more melancholy appearance than do
those of San Thomé. They appear to possess an instinctive knowledge that
they are confined in a death-trap, and their appeals for liberation are
piteously violent.
I cannot readily forget a conversation with four young slaves on
Principe. Of these, but two had known freedom; the others had been born
of slave parents. On the features of one, the traces of sleeping sickness
in an advanced stage were plainly marked, and though still labouring at
his task, it was plain that death had already marked him for its own.
I asked the usual questions.
“Are you well fed?”
“Yes, Senhor.”
“Clothed and housed?”
“Yes, Senhor.”
“You are not flogged or beaten?”
“Oh! are we not!”
“But I am told the planters never beat you.”
“Tell me then, Senhor, how was this deep wound caused?”
In support of this statement the whole group of slaves chimed in with
exclamations and assertions that they were constantly flogged and beaten.
“Do you desire your freedom?”
“Senhor, why taunt us? Did you ever know an African who did not love his
home and country?”
“Well, I think there are people in Europe who will endeavour to
emancipate you.”
“Senhor, I fear when you get on yonder ocean, you will forget the poor
slaves of Principe and San Thomé!”
This latter reply was uttered with so desponding a note that I ventured
to make the slaves a promise, which British honour—no less than British
responsibility—should see fulfilled.
“Listen, I am now going to Europe and shall soon meet the liberty-loving
British people. I know how they detest slavery; I know how they will
struggle for your liberty. Take this promise yourselves—and pass the word
round the plantations to the other slaves—God helping us, we will set you
free within two years.”
The effect of this promise was good to behold, the eyes brightened, there
was an elasticity in movement and grateful word of thanks as the slaves
resumed their never-ending task. Even the slave in the fell grip of
sleeping sickness appeared to share in the joy of a freedom he could not
hope to experience.
Not all the slaves are purchased for plantation work, as the following
typical instances will shew. Beautiful black women have their price. The
day was indeed a hot one as I strolled along the shores of the Atlantic
below the mouth of the Congo, when a finely-built young woman met me.
Originally captured over 2,000 miles away, her fine figure and bright
features had obtained for her captor a high price as “domestic” for the
white man. To him it was nothing that she longed to exchange her captive
life for that home away in the far interior, or that the roar of the
waves was a perpetual reminder of the gentle lappings of the lake shore
of Tanganyika. The woman was his slave, purchased with “honest money”—his
slave until he ceased to want her, and then—well, he would sell her to
the nearest planter and buy another, for healthy young girls are always
marketable not only in Portuguese territory but in other parts of West
Africa.
Another day two white-clad European travellers might have been seen
moving in and out amongst the villages outside a Portuguese town of
Angola, exchanging greetings with half-dressed natives. Presently it is
realized that this is no casual visit of curious strangers, for it is
obvious that the white man’s handshake is but an excuse for a closer
scrutiny of the arm, the temple, or the chest, and the natives gather
round the travellers as they proceed from group to group. Something now
arrests attention, for the white man is sitting down amidst a party of
four or five women.
In a few minutes confidence has been gained, and the women submit to an
examination of certain marks cut years ago on their arms and foreheads.
The white man first tries a sentence in a tongue unknown to the group
of interested onlookers, but there is no response from those to whom
it was addressed. He tries another, and there is a sudden silence; all
eyes are directed to a woman who, after a faint cry of amazement, is
gazing fixedly into space, for the white man had by that sentence struck
a chord silenced by long years of sorrow and suffering. The woman gazed
on silently and intently as if trying to recall a half-forgotten past.
She travels in thought back over yonder mountains, across the hot plain,
and on by rippling streams and through valleys thick with ripe corn,
away across the Cuanza river, on for months to Lake Dilolo, where she
sees again as in a vision the white man who bought her from the native
slave-trader. In fancy she leaves the cornfields of Angola, crosses the
upper Kasai, and is away north beyond Lusambo, and westward to the little
Congo village with its deep green plantain groves and manioca fields.
A remark breaks the spell, and she realizes that it was but a dream, for
she is still a captive; but the white man speaking her native tongue is
no dream—he is still there speaking the language that sounds like the
far-off music of another life. The light of hope dawns in her eyes as she
turns on the traveller, pleading, “White man, can’t you take me home?”
[Sidenote: THE PLANTERS’ CASE]
It must not be supposed that all the San Thomé planters on the island
believe in, or defend, present conditions, any more than it must be
supposed that, without exception, they are habitually guilty of inhuman
maltreatment of the slaves. The charge of maintaining slavery most of
them emphatically deny, and in support of their contention point to legal
contracts which cover the original transaction by which the labour was
obtained. They also remind the investigator that the labourers are paid.
There are, however, some honest planters who admit that the original
“contract” was not altogether genuine, and the statements made by the
planters and the slaves respectively with regard to the wages paid,
differ so absurdly that one is compelled to dismiss both.
[Illustration: SLAVES ON COCOA ROÇA, PRINCIPE ISLAND.]
[Illustration: THE END OF THE SLAVE. TWO SLAVES CARRYING DEAD COMRADE IN
SACK TO BURIAL.]
To many managers definite acts of cruelty would be highly repulsive.
It is furthermore very obvious that not a few owners and planters do
everything which science and money can provide to make the lot of the
slave a happy one. The planters argue with much warmth and sincerity of
conviction that the labourers are better housed, fed, and clothed on
the plantations than they would be in their mainland villages. Their
melancholy demeanour and their insistent desire for liberty, the low
birth rate and frightful mortality amongst the slaves is put down very
largely to the gross obstinacy and stupidity of the enslaved negroes.
If the planters are questioned upon the desire of the slaves to regain
their liberty they reply that this would be an act of injustice because
many of the labourers have forgotten the districts from which they were
originally “recruited” and that even if complete repatriation were
carried through the men and women repatriated would probably fall a prey
to evil influences on the mainland.
The attitude assumed by the Portuguese authorities towards the question
of slavery in their West African colonies has hitherto been first of all
one of inferential denial that slavery exists, and secondly they call
attention to the elaborate regulations framed for protecting the natives
from any infringement of their liberties.
On paper, the labourers are contracted for short periods of service in
Angola and the cocoa islands; are said to have a happier lot than any
other contract labourers in the world; and that any who so desire are
free to return to their homes at the termination of their contracts.
A great deal more is on paper which, if practices only accorded with
the minimum of professions, would assure the cessation of slavery in
Portuguese West Africa.
Perhaps nothing written in the earlier days upon this question has
brought out so forcibly the “ownership” feature of labour conditions as
the disclosures made in the Cadbury—_Standard_ libel action. In that
trial Sir Edward Carson called attention to a circular forwarded to
Messrs. Cadbury referring to the sale of an estate in San Thomé. The
stock enumerated included one item, “Two hundred black labourers ...
£3555.” This gives the average price of the slaves as £18 _per capita_,
taking the sick with the healthy and the young with the old. Various
prices are quoted as the value of the slaves, but this depends, of
course, upon physique, sex and age. Mr. Joseph Burtt, the Commissioner
of the cocoa firms, gives £25 to £40, whilst Mr. Consul Nightingale
stated £50 as the average price. When in Portuguese West Africa several
of the slaves were even able to tell us the prices at which they were
purchased by the different middlemen, and occasionally even by Portuguese
themselves.
The evidence now to hand of the existence of both the slave-trade and
slavery is overwhelming.
[Sidenote: SIR EDWARD GREY’S “BEYOND DOUBT”]
On November 22nd, 1909, the Portuguese Foreign Minister called upon Sir
Edward Grey, apparently with the object of discussing this question,
and in conversation the Foreign Minister informed M. Du Bocage that
the information he “had received from private sources placed _beyond
doubt_[10] the fact that it had been the custom for natives to be
captured in the interior by people who were really slave-dealers; the
captured natives were then brought down to the coast and went to work in
the Portuguese islands.”
On the 26th of October last, Sir Arthur Hardinge, whose intimate
knowledge of slavery questions is probably unequalled, informed the
Portuguese Minister for Foreign Affairs that when he was in Brussels, he
“had heard serious complaints in official circles at Brussels of the way
in which slaves were kidnapped by Angola caravans from the Kasai district
of the Congo, which shewed that the charges made did not emanate solely
from missionaries or philanthropic sentimentalists.”
In July, 1909, an exhaustive series of regulations were issued from
Lisbon. The 139 articles covered almost every actual and conceivable
feature of the whole labour question, but as Mr. Consul Mackie pointedly
remarked—
“The Angolan native ... is contracted in a wild state under
circumstances of doubtful legality, and is so convinced that
he is a slave that nothing short of repatriation, which should
therefore be compulsory, would serve to persuade him that, at
least in the eyes of the law, he is a free agent. It would
obviously be useless to argue that the ‘serviçal’ is not a
slave merely because he is provided with a legal contract,
renewable at the option of his employer, in which he is
officially proclaimed to be free.”
The evidence, therefore, that the Portuguese colonial labour systems are
pure slavery is confirmed (a) In a British Law Court, (b) by the British
Foreign Minister, (c) by the British Consul on the spot, and (d) by Sir
Arthur Hardinge. Could anyone desire more emphatic evidence than is now
provided? and this does not exhaust the available sources, for even the
Portuguese themselves have now been forced to admit that the slave-trade
is very much in evidence.
Writing to Sir Arthur Hardinge on October 23rd last, the Portuguese
Foreign Minister admitted that there was—
“Slave-traffic with the inhabitants with Luando, in the
district of Lunda.... It was ascertained that in reality the
Bihean natives were in the habit of settling their debts and
disputes by means of ‘serviçaes.’ Two convoys proceeding from
Luando were captured, and the serviçaes handed over to the
delegate of the Curator concerned, to be retained until claimed
by their relatives, to whom the necessary notice was sent.”
It is instructive to note that the Portuguese Minister in this passage
makes no distinction between serviçaes and slaves, yet when unofficial
critics declare that in practice the terms are indistinguishable, they
are condemned for deliberately confusing the public mind. It is also of
importance to bear in mind that the Lunda Province is included in the
territories which come under the operations of the Berlin Act, whereby
every European Power is under the most solemn responsibility to secure
throughout these territories the abolition of slavery.
[Sidenote: PORTUGUESE OFFICIAL ADMISSION]
There is further the evidence, from a Portuguese source, in the fact that
in 1911 eleven Portuguese are reported to have been expelled for engaging
in the slave-traffic. The Governor of Angola informed Mr. Drummond
Hay that nothing severer than the order of expulsion was administered
owing to the lack of “conclusive evidence,” but four months later the
Portuguese Foreign Minister admitted that the Europeans “by the inquiry
were found guilty of acts of slave-traffic.” Sir Arthur Hardinge pointed
out that
“the 5th article of the Brussels General Act contemplated
severer penalties in the case of persons engaging in the
slave-trade than an order of expulsion before trial or a
prohibition to return to the colony, which such persons, if
convicted of a serious criminal offence there, would hardly
need.”
When, therefore, the long stream of unofficial testimony upon the
existence of the slave-trade and slavery in the Portuguese colonies is
confirmed in turn by the British Minister at Lisbon and by the British
Consul of Angola, and moreover when Sir Edward Grey, who always chooses
language with exceptional care, officially informs civilization that
the charges are proved “beyond doubt,” and finally when the Portuguese
authorities are driven to admit it, then surely the time has come
to cease gathering evidence and to set about some substantial and
far-reaching measures of reform.
To meet a situation which is a grave international scandal and a
potential menace to European peace, what do the Portuguese offer to
civilization? They claim good treatment of the labourers, humane
regulations and repatriation of the slaves.
It is common ground that the slaves upon the islands are, generally
speaking, well fed, housed and fairly well clothed, but the slaves
themselves are emphatic in their assertions that they are frequently
beaten. This the Portuguese deny, but those who know West Africa are
perfectly well aware that it is impossible to keep something like 40,000
slaves working on the cocoa farms at the rate of “a man per hectare”
without a considerable amount of “pressure.”
The regulations are exhaustive upon every feature of the labourer’s
life except emancipation, from the time he is “recruited” until he
is buried, but as Mr. Consul Mackie has recently pointed out, “The
absence of any (regulations) for the return journey in the event of
the labourer declining to accept the conditions of the contract is
somewhat suspicious.” That the keeping of statistical records is part
of the ordinary administrative routine is a common-place, but that this
elementary duty may be performed, a regulation was issued three years
ago, yet to this day that instruction has never been carried out, with
the result that no reliable information is possible with regard to the
birth and death rates.
[Sidenote: MORE REGULATIONS]
According to regulations, every labourer’s history is carefully recorded
and the fullest details endorsed upon the contract, yet in the case of
135 out of 163 slaves repatriated in the early part of last year it was
impossible to state how long they had been upon the islands. This is not
only a further evidence of the futility of Portuguese regulations, but
it constitutes additional evidence as to the fictitious nature of the
supposed “contract systems.”
To the tragedy of slavery on Principe is added the ever present horror
of sleeping sickness which is everywhere raging on the island. To the
lasting disgrace of the Portuguese Government it still permits the
retention of slaves on the island where conditions are so bad that, as I
have already pointed out, the eminent Dr. Mendes has advised the killing
of all the cattle on the island in the hope of checking the ravages of
the disease. Here again the Portuguese Government has been content to
meet the situation with paper “regulations,” which would be comic if
it were not for the distressing condition of these wretched slaves.
According to these regulations all the slaves “must wear trousers to
the heel, blouses with sleeves to the wrist, and high collars ... they
must wear on their backs a black cloth covered with glue!” It is barely
necessary to state that these regulations are openly disregarded in every
particular.
Finally the Portuguese point to their highly-regulated system of
repatriation. Sir Edward Grey and Sir Arthur Hardinge have emphasized
that “one excellent test” of a desire for reform “will be the rate and
method of repatriation.” Since the year 1888 some 67,614 slaves are known
to have been shipped to San Thomé and Principe from the Angola mainland,
but it is also known that a good deal of smuggling has been carried on.
Then, too, there are some slaves born on the islands prior to the year
1888, and these are claimed as the property of the planters. At the same
time the death rate has been very high and the birth rate extremely
low, with the result that the estimate of the slave—or according to the
Portuguese the Angola serviçal—population of about 37,000 is probably
fairly accurate.
In 1903 a repatriation fund was established with the object of providing
the repatriated slaves with a sum of money upon their landing again on
the mainland, and there was a further complicated arrangement which could
have no chance of being effectively carried out, whereby “recontracted”
slaves should receive their bonus in 6 per cent. instalments every
quarter. This was no philanthropic contribution, but actually represented
a regular deduction of 50 per cent. from the “wages” of the slaves and
serviçaes, until May, 1911, when the deduction was raised to two-thirds,
leaving the labourer only one-third, and as most of the slaves appear
to die prematurely, the benefit they receive from their “wages” is a
negligible quantity.
From the year 1903, when this fund was instituted, until 1907 these
deductions from wages were actually left in the hands of the planters. In
December, 1907, they admitted to holding £100,000—a not inconsiderable
capital fund for working their plantations. In 1908 the fund was
transferred to the Government bank, but in the autumn of that year it had
by some means, yet to be discovered, shrunk to about £62,000. After about
nine years’ working this fund stands to-day at approximately £100,000.
[Sidenote: METHODS OF EMANCIPATION]
In Sir Edward Grey’s despatch to Sir Francis Hyde Villiers of November
3rd, 1910, he pointed out that public opinion would be favourably
impressed with a “regular and satisfactory” method of repatriation.
During the early part of this year 900 slaves were repatriated to Angola
and 500 more were due to leave at the end of June. Probably, therefore,
it may be safely estimated that since 1908 something like 2000 will
have been returned to the mainland before the close of this year, but
even so this still leaves something like 35,000 still in slavery.
Though this “rate of repatriation” shews some improvement, it cannot be
regarded as satisfactory in view of the fact that unless it is materially
accelerated, it will take not less than twenty years to liberate the
whole of the slaves on the two islands.
Turning to the method of repatriation, it is clear that this is being
carried on in the most inhuman and barbarous manner. When we were at
Benguella, the condition of the repatriated slaves was so distressing
that we offered the Governor a sum of money to provide the miserable
creatures with food and medicine. This His Excellency could not receive,
nor could he allow the Curador to accept it.
The planters, realizing that civilization demands that “repatriation”
should take place, are just now permitting it, but they are at the same
time doing everything in their power to discredit it. There is some
evidence that they are only liberating the sick and worn out, for of
twenty-eight slaves recently liberated, whose ages were known, Mr. Consul
Drummond Hay tells us their average age was forty-two years, and their
period of labour on the islands averaged thirty-one years.
The Portuguese journal _Reforma_ in its issue of August 19th, 1911,
exposes in convincing language the condition and real objects of this
so-called repatriation:—
“The greater part of these ‘serviçaes’ were put on board
without being told what their destination was, and without any
money.
“The first batches that came here had some money—one of them
had 150,030 _reis_ (£30)—but the last lots arrived without any;
thus some were expatriated instead of being repatriated.
“These people did not bring a single penny, and it was through
charity alone that they received food and shelter. Almost every
one of these unfortunate people, who have done twenty years of
hard labour, arrived in ruined health, and some of them died
shortly after their arrival.
“It is probable that this form of repatriation is a stratagem
which will, on account of the protests that will be raised
against it in this province, enable the planters to argue that
repatriation is unproductive of any good results, and that the
truth is, as they have said all along, that people who have
once gone to those islands never want to leave them again, well
knowing that they could not find a better spot in this world.”
[Sidenote: THE “ARRIÈRE PENSÉE”]
The Brussels Conference of 1890 foresaw this danger and made provision
for it in Articles 52 and 63. The latter stipulated that:—
“Slaves liberated under the provisions of the preceding Article
shall, if circumstances permit, be sent back to the country
from whence they came. In all cases they shall receive letters
of freedom from the competent authorities and shall be entitled
to their protection and assistance for the purpose of obtaining
means of subsistence.”
Portugal was signatory with other European Powers to the Brussels Act.
Further evidence of the inhuman manner in which the slaves are
repatriated appeared in the Portuguese journal, _A Capital_, of June
last. The writer, Hermano Neves, reported that an officer on a Portuguese
ship informed him that in one trip there were 269 liberated serviçaes,
that of these unfortunate beings landed at Benguella only one was given
any money; the remainder, unable to obtain employment and without money
to buy food, were left to starve. “A few days later, there lay in the
outskirts of Benguella, out in the open, no less than fifty corpses;
those who did not or cared not to resort to theft in order to live had
simply died of starvation.”
How comes it that in spite of endless “regulations,” almost every line
of which boasts humane sentiments, and of a Government in Portugal which
blazes upon the housetops its devotion to the cause of human freedom,
these deplorable conditions prevail in the West African colonies? The
reason has been advanced without any equivocation for years, namely:—the
Portuguese colonies are out of control. Portugal may send a shipload
of regulations out of the Tagus every week and the planters will
welcome them—as waste paper. Some of us have said this for years and
have suffered the inevitable abuse, but with the publication of the
recent White Book, we actually find this contention corroborated by
the Portuguese Government. Senhor Vasconcellos, replying to Sir Arthur
Hardinge’s representations upon the abuses, admitted that:—
“The Governors whom he had sent out to give effect to its (the
Government’s) instructions had been to a great extent paralysed
by the power of vested interests.”
This is, of course, obvious to all those who realize the inner meaning of
the fact that within ten years the cocoa islands have had something like
twenty-five Governors. An admission of this nature by the responsible
Portuguese Minister goes quite as far, if not farther, than the most
extreme critic of Portuguese colonial administration.
The existence of slavery and the slave-trade now corroborated by
officials of the first rank in London and Lisbon, supported by Consuls,
and now by the Portuguese themselves, leaves no longer any need for
unofficial persons to spend further efforts in an endeavour to establish
the fact. Sir Edward Grey’s “beyond doubt” is in itself sufficient
for the great mass of sane men. With the breakdown of the Portuguese
regulations and the violation of international treaties, coupled with the
Portuguese admission that their colonies are out of hand, what can be
done to set free the slave in San Thomé and Angola?
[Sidenote: BRITISH SUBJECTS ENSLAVED]
The question is frequently asked what would be done if the slaves
were set free. We are told that to dump down on the West Coast of
Africa 40,000 penniless slaves originally drawn from homes in the far
hinterland, might involve great hardship. We all agree, for we now know
that thousands of slaves were obtained for Portuguese colonies from
Belgian Congo, through the help of the revolted Congo State soldiery—a
body of men numbering according to circumstances, from 1000 to 5000,
who only kept up their rebellion by purchasing slaves with arms and
ammunition from the Portuguese half-castes and natives. Again, no one
can read the thrilling story by Colonel Colin Harding in “Remotest
Barotseland” without being convinced that the Portuguese obtained many
slaves from British territory. Lake Dilolo, the greatest of all the
slave-markets, is but a comparatively short march from Rhodesia, and, in
view of local conditions, it is inconceivable that natives of British
Rhodesia have not been drawn into the slave-traders’ toils in that
region. This feature has recently received an emphatic confirmation
from Mr. F. Schindler, a missionary of over twenty years’ experience in
Angola. He writes:—
“I have seen thousands of slaves coming from the Belgian Congo
and Rhodesia being taken westwards by Bihean slave-traders
and in some cases by half-caste Portuguese, and both by
their tribal mark and by their speech I had no difficulty in
recognizing them as belonging to tribes that are not found in
Angola.”
How many of these slaves were, and are, enslaved on the mainland, and how
many ultimately found their destination to be the cocoa islands, it is
impossible to say, but we do know that generally it was the hinterland
native which the slave-traders shipped to San Thomé and Principe.
Moreover, some of us have seen these people of the Batetela and Kasai
tribes on the roads and plantations of the islands, the cicatrized arms,
legs, chests and backs plainly indicating their origin.
The first essential, therefore, is that of determining the countries of
origin of the slaves on the islands. To whom can this task be assigned?
Obviously not to the planters; it might be entrusted to a disinterested
Portuguese Commission, but others have responsibilities and vital
interests—Great Britain and Belgium would both possess, if not the right
of membership, certainly the right to watch proceedings on behalf of any
natives whom they had reason to believe had been obtained originally from
British or Belgian colonies.
[Sidenote: THE APPEAL FOR LIBERTY]
The planter holds that the slaves are happier on the islands than they
could ever be on the mainland; this interested and _ex parte_ statement
cannot obviously be accepted as final. The native, and the native alone,
should be allowed to determine his, or her, destiny. I admit it is
conceivable that a few slaves, for various reasons, would elect to stay
with their owners, and no compulsion should be put upon such to leave
the islands, but beyond all question the majority of the 37,000 slaves
have a deep-rooted and a passionate desire to return to the homes of
their birth. When visiting the cocoa islands in October, 1910, Mr. Consul
Drummond Hay sent his interpreter amongst the slaves to ascertain whether
they desired their liberty, and in his report to Sir Edward Grey says:
“My interpreter went among the Angola ‘serviçaes’ and his inquiries as
to whether they wished to be repatriated were mostly answered in the
affirmative.” This, be it remembered, was said by the slaves on what are
admittedly the show plantations. Take these slaves aside and engage them
in conversation, and before many minutes have passed, the appeal will
involuntarily burst forth, “White man, give us our liberty!”
Having ascertained the districts of Central Africa of those who desire
emancipation and a return to their villages, it should then be the
duty of the representatives of Portugal, Britain and Belgium, to see
to it that their respective subjects are quickly and safely returned.
Much has been made of the difficulties which would attend any schemes
of repatriation, but in many quarters these difficulties have been
purposely exaggerated. Given an honest desire to repatriate, the
task would at once become simple. Take first the Angola natives. The
Portuguese could, if they chose, send them back in batches of 50 or 100
for a given district; a body of such dimensions attaching itself to an
up-country caravan, travelling under official protection and possibly
with a small escort, would present too solid a company to permit of
attack. Moreover, officials, traders and missionaries, might all be
notified of such companies journeying from the coast and instructed to
aid them as far as possible. The Lobito—Katanga Railway Company would
doubtless be willing to give cheap passes to batches of slaves originally
secured from the different centres through which its line now passes. It
would be distinctly to their interest to do so, apart from humanitarian
considerations.
We now know that providing the Portuguese Government would set at liberty
the slaves originally captured from the upper reaches of the Kasai, the
Belgian Government is prepared to send ships to San Thomé to carry
them back to the Congo, transfer them to steamboats which would take
them back to their homes, or at least within a day or two’s march. This
journey could now be accomplished in less than a month, whereas several
of the slaves obtained from Belgian territory informed us that their
original journey in the chain gang to the coast had involved a tramp of
considerably over one year. There is reason to believe that not only
would Belgium undertake this task, but she would do so without requiring
any financial return whatever.
The third and probably the smallest section of the slaves on the
islands—British subjects—can assuredly present no difficulties. Great
Britain could with the greatest of ease collect her slaves at San Thomé
and transfer them to Rhodesia and Barotseland, via the Cape.
Portugal should be invited to send an international commission to West
Africa, composed principally of Portuguese, but with a British and
Belgian element, assisted by men experienced in the tribal languages and
cicatrices of the hinterland peoples. This commission to be empowered to
investigate the whole question and to issue freedom papers to all slaves
appealing for liberty. In view of the advertised hatred in which the
present Portuguese Government professes to hold every form of servitude,
such commission might easily be appointed in friendly co-operation
with the Powers primarily concerned. If this were done, the Portuguese
Government and nation would at once merit and undoubtedly receive the
warm appreciation and support of the civilized world.
[Sidenote: A GRAVE STATEMENT]
If, however, the Portuguese Government, after admitting their incapacity
to control their West African colonies, refuse the co-operation of
friendly Powers and maintain a system of labour which violates in several
respects international treaty obligations, it is obvious that, however
much Great Britain may regret it, she cannot continue an Alliance which
may at any moment involve her in a position of the utmost gravity.
It would be idle to overlook the extremely serious nature of the
statement made by Sir Edward Grey in the House of Commons on April 3rd,
1912. The Foreign Secretary then declared that the defensive treaty of
alliance between Great Britain and Portugal, though it had not been
confirmed since 1904, was, like all similar, treaties which, “not being
concluded for any specified term, are in their nature perpetual.”
Thus it would seem that if any one or more Powers signatory to the
anti-slavery clauses of either the Berlin or Brussels Acts, should awake
to their clear rights and solemn responsibilities and proceed by any show
of force to insist upon the abolition of slavery and the slave-trade in
Portuguese colonies, the maritime and land forces of Great Britain could
under this Alliance be forthwith summoned to protect these Portuguese
colonies against the “Aggressors.”
There are some things impossible to the strongest of Ministers, and the
Portuguese Government must realize that the British people, however much
they might desire to do so, cannot allow the continuance of an Alliance
with a Power which by persistent violation of international obligations
exposes not only herself, but her ally, to a defence of slavery and the
slave-trade. Now is the time for Portugal to accept the friendly advice
and help of Great Britain, but as Mr. St. Loe Strachey has recently said:—
“_Either the Portuguese must put an end to slave-owning,
slave-trading and slave-raiding in the colonial possessions
which we now guarantee to them, or else our guarantee must at
once and for ever cease._”
IV
THE FUTURE OF BELGIAN CONGO
Belgium for the time being is in the saddle, but for how long? Will
she prove strong enough, wise enough, great enough to bring order out
of the chaotic state of affairs into which her late ruler plunged the
Congo territories? It would require a bold man to give an unqualified
affirmative to this question. Cover several thousand miles of that
territory, live for months with the aboriginal tribes, discuss
administrative problems with Congo officials, watch the operations, and
listen to the conversations of the German and Portuguese merchants—and a
permanent Belgian control of the Congo becomes a matter of considerable
doubt.
Belgian Congo, the largest single political division of Africa—French
Sahara alone excepted—possesses land and climate of distinct features,
and, properly administered, could pour into the European markets raw
materials now demanded by many of our industries. The total area of the
old Congo State was just over 900,000 square miles, or eight times the
size of Great Britain and Ireland. A considerable proportion of the
territory is covered by a series of gigantic swamps, with ribs of dry
land and ironstone ridges dividing rivers and lakes. The whole of these
low-lying territories are covered with thick forest undergrowth, which
renders them impenetrable except along the native tracks. Throughout the
Equatorial regions it would be extremely difficult to discover a single
acre of open country, and in the territory covered by the Bangalla and
its tributaries it is only with difficulty that even a camping ground
can be obtained. Mobeka, the State Post at the confluence with the
main Congo, was actually built by gangs of forced labourers carrying
baskets of soil in an almost endless stream for a distance of nearly two
miles inland. This post was formerly the head-quarters of the notorious
Lothaire and it remains to-day a monument to the luxury with which he
surrounded himself; the carved woodwork from Europe, the doors and
windows, and general upholstery are indicative of the high favour, or
fear, in which this gentleman was held by King Leopold. Northward beyond
the Aruwimi and southward of the Kasai the character of the country
changes considerably. The eternal forests of the Equatorial regions give
place to rolling veldt or open plains. Instead of swamps and marshes
there are hills and valleys, although, unhappily, neither fertile nor
occupied by a virile or extensive population.
[Sidenote: ECONOMIC EXHAUSTION]
For nearly a quarter of a century the Congo territories have suffered
from uncontrolled exploitation. Twenty-five years ago the forests were
thick with mature Landolphia rubber vines. This species of rubber is
of very slow growth and probably some thousands of the larger vines
extend over 100 years. Scientifically tapped in the season, this great
vegetable asset would to-day have been almost unimpaired and the Congo
could still have continued pouring forth 5000 tons of rubber per annum
to Europe. Nothing of the kind was attempted; the stores of vegetable
wealth carefully husbanded by nature for generations were exposed to
ruthless plunder, the mad scramble for rubber at any cost to humanity
and common-sense denuded the forests. The vine growths of a generation
were hacked to pieces, and even to-day millions of dead fragments of vine
may be seen scattered all over the hinterland forests. Even the roots
were not spared, for the unhappy natives, driven to desperation by the
white rubber collectors tore up the roots and forced them to disgorge
their stores of latex. Rubber is still to be found, but in much smaller
quantities, in the Aruwimi district in the north, the Lomame and Lukenya
basins in the east, and also in certain districts in the Lake Leopold
region, but no merchant should to-day enter the Congo with a view to
making money from virgin rubber.
King Leopold knew all along what the Belgian Government now knows—that
the greatest economic asset of the Congo would have disappeared by the
time the Belgians inherited the colony, and he met the situation by
the issue of two decrees: one instructing all agents and Government
officials to lay down rubber plantations round every factory, and the
other promulgating heavy fines and penalties for the severance of
indigenous rubber vines. The latter decree was generally treated by
whites and natives alike as an instruction “_pour rire_”—a fact known and
probably anticipated by King Leopold. The instruction to lay down rubber
plantations happened to meet to perfection a feature in the system of
Congo State exploitation.
In those early days—from about 1897 to 1904—there might be seen at every
rubber collecting centre gangs of men, women and even children, chained
or roped together by the neck, and these were the hostages which were
being held by the “Administration” until a sufficiency of rubber had
been brought in to redeem them. Generally these hostages were captured
from amongst the old, the sick and afflicted, or even from the women and
children, the object being to force the young and able-bodied into the
forests to gather the rubber which would “redeem” the father, mother,
sister or child.
[Sidenote: THE CHAIN GANG]
The question which had hitherto confronted the officials was that of
finding work for the hostages, for the Royal Rubber Merchant was known to
favour every expedient which would strengthen the faith of the natives in
the dignity of labour. The instructions, therefore, to lay down rubber
plantations exactly met the situation, and the thousands of hostages
throughout the Congo were forthwith set to the task of clearing forests
and planting rubber. This removed from the wretched hostages their last
hope of prolonged liberty, for it became doubly advantageous to capture
and retain them. The slightest shortage of rubber was a sufficient
pretext for capturing more hostages and thus provide labour for the
plantations. A perfect equation was in this way maintained—if less rubber
came in from the forests, more hostages would be laying down this new
source of potential revenue. Tongue cannot tell, neither can pen portray
the miseries involved in the laying down of these plantations, but the
sight of the suffering natives can never be effaced from memory. The
Congo chain gang respected neither position, age nor sex, sickness or
health; it held fast alike the old chief, the weakly man, the young girl
and the expectant mother—a terrified mass of humanity trembling under the
dreaded crack of the whips. The sentry overseers regarded them as the
carrion of the Congo, for their relatives were guilty of the greatest of
all offences, inability to satisfy the impossible demands for rubber. The
infant in terror clung closer to the mother, as the woman winced under
the lash of the whip. The young wife brought forth her first-born in her
captivity and was left without any attention to battle with her weakness,
or to succumb. To make a recovery was to resume her work of rubber
planting within two or three days, with the new-born babe tied to her
back. Darker deeds, too, were committed, and some rubber trees of to-day
were literally planted in the blood of victims.
A writer, “Father Castelin,” greatly impressed with the wisdom of
this undertaking, but apparently caring nothing about its tragedy of
human suffering, estimated from documents placed at his disposal that
the “new source of revenue” which had been bequeathed to the Belgian
nation, provided 13,000,000 rubber trees. This “new source of revenue”
could hardly fail to provide an annual return of less than two francs
a tree, thus assisting the budget with an asset of more than a million
sterling per annum. This alluring prospect so impressed the new Belgian
Colonial Minister that he added to his difficult and recently acquired
administrative task that of rubber production on a “business basis.”
When Monsieur Renkin introduced his famous Congo reform bill, it
contained a proposal to extend the existing plantations by 50,000
acres. This in itself was a serious departure from recognized colonial
principles in that it wedded the newly acquired colony, for better or for
worse, to commercial undertakings. The whole enterprise from beginning to
end is beyond question a miserable fiasco.
In our recent travels we have visited large numbers of these plantations.
They are all of them characterized by neglect, the majority have been
abandoned and are everywhere falling a prey to rapidly growing forest
undergrowth. A considerable proportion of the trees, as if in protest
against the violence which their planting involved, are now drying up
from the roots. In spite of the millions of rubber trees planted in the
Congo, many of these being more than ten years old, no plantation rubber
has yet been profitably exported, nor is there any hope entertained by
the officials on the spot that plantation rubber will ever be an economic
success.
Inseparably interwoven with the exhaustion of the economic resources is
the exhaustion of the people themselves and the break up of their social
life. Stanley estimated the whole of the Congo population at something
over 40,000,000. This was, of course, the merest guess, but probably
the Powers at Berlin did commit to the care of King Leopold not less
than half that number, i.e. 20,000,000. To-day the official estimate
gives the total population at something under 8,000,000. It may be asked
whether I should estimate that more than 12,000,000 of people perished
under King Leopold’s régime. I can only reply—certainly not less. The
only ascertainable data upon which an estimate can be based would amply
confirm such a statement. Many towns whose population was known almost
to a man twenty-five years ago have disappeared entirely, and there is
not one town to-day but has lost over 75 per cent. of its population
within the last three decades. There is one redeeming feature, viz., that
since Belgian occupation there is some evidence that in several districts
the appalling death rate and low birth rate show signs of regaining a
more normal standard. This was the most apparent in the old sleeping
sickness areas, for we noticed that wherever the Belgian reforms had been
most completely applied, there the ravages of sleeping sickness appeared
to be more or less checked.
[Sidenote: SOME BELGIAN BLUNDERS]
When Belgium annexed the Congo, she for many months retained the old
Congo State flag; she still retains the sobriquet “Bula Matadi”; she
retained, and still retains many of the old Congo officials, and finally
she retained her interest in rubber. These indications did not escape
the notice of the natives who are never slow to detect circumstantial
evidence, to say nothing of the enlightening influence of the old witch
doctor! The consequence is that the natives distrust the new “Bula
Matadi” as much as they did the old one, for to many of them there is no
visible change. Thus Belgium finds herself in possession of a colossal
colony whose economic resources are exhausted, whose population has been
seriously diminished, and whose native tribes everywhere mistrust her
administration.
The foregoing features present Belgium with a problem not to be solved
easily by the most experienced and powerful of colonizing Powers.
International obligations, too, cannot but make that task more difficult.
The Congo must still work out its salvation under the guardian eye of
the fourteen signatories to the Berlin Act. It is still the duty of each
of these Powers to “watch over the moral and material welfare of the
native tribes.” Not only so, but the Congo colony is further restricted
by separate treaties with all the Great Powers, which together provide
a shoal of difficulties through which it will not be easy to steer the
Administration without disaster.
The Congo territories, however, are not without assets, which, in the
hands of a bold statesman, are capable of making Central Africa one of
the greatest wealth-producing areas of the Continent.
The first asset is in the riverine system of the Congo. The main river
has five large tributaries, each of which provides from 500 to 1000
miles of navigable waterway; the Busira, for example, 200 miles from
the mouth gives no soundings at a depth of 1000 feet. Each of these
in turn possesses numerous smaller, but still navigable tributaries.
Altogether this fluvial system renders water transport possible for
over 10,000 miles, whilst for large canoes and launches there is more
than twice the waterway. I know of no district, no matter how remote
from the great fluvial highway, which is removed more than four days’
march from a river bank. In some parts of the main river the width is
considerably over five miles, and in others it takes a canoe nearly half
a day to thread its way between the network of islands which cover the
river between north and south banks. There is, however, the outstanding
drawback that as a commercial asset the whole waterway is blocked at the
mouth, strictly speaking ninety miles from the ocean. There the cataract
region begins which has hitherto defied engineering skill. Between
Matadi and Leopoldville, a distance of just over 350 miles, seven such
natural impediments prove an insurmountable barrier to water transport.
This distance is covered by a railway which connects the lower river with
Stanley Pool, the upper river port. The line is undoubtedly a thing of
beauty, but travelling on it is certainly not a “joy for ever,” climbing
up almost impossible slopes, skirting ravines and lightly circling
mountain ranges—a triumph of engineering skill, whose construction,
it is estimated, cost a life a sleeper. Its 2 ft. 6 in. gauge and its
miniature rolling stock are, however, totally incapable of dealing with
the potential transport of a colony more than half as large as Europe.
[Sidenote: THE CONGO RAILWAY]
At present transport on the Congo railway is in hopeless confusion and
the merchant is fortunate indeed whose goods occupy less than a month
traversing that 350 miles, for the bulk of goods require six weeks
to reach Leopoldville, the port of Stanley Pool, from Matadi on the
lower river. When we were at Matadi there was still 1000 tons awaiting
transport, a small task for European and American freight trains, but
an entirely different matter on a line where we saw a Congo engine with
twenty tons only in her trucks make no less than three attempts up an
ordinary incline. The Congo railway, at present the only link between the
ocean and the Upper Congo, presents to the Belgian Government a two-fold
problem. The first question is whether it is possible to turn the whole
track into a broad gauge, capable of bearing heavier rolling stock with
reasonable safety—an initial problem of doubtful solution, and with it
the second is coupled. If this line were practically rebuilt, at immense
cost to the Belgian Exchequer, what reasonable guarantee has Belgium
that for all time the French Government will refrain from constructing a
railway from the seaboard of French Congo to Kwamouth on the confluence
of the Kasai with the main Congo? Given such a condition, it is all
over with the Belgian Congo railway. We know that many patriotic and
far-sighted Frenchmen are seriously considering this proposition. Then,
too, the French are great railway engineers, and I am informed that the
physical conditions of the country through which such railway would pass
are entirely good. If the French line were built, the Upper Congo would
be brought at least five days nearer Europe for passengers and mails,
while merchandise would probably save three weeks to a month in reaching
its destination.
Even if Belgium provided an unchallengeable connecting link between the
lower and upper reaches of the two fluvial systems, the Congo river is
beset with political potentialities of no mean order. It remains to-day
an international highway which presumably any five European Powers may,
if they so choose, bring under the control of a five-Power river board
of management. As an asset the Congo river is gravely depreciated by the
topographical features from Stanley Pool to the mouth which place the
whole Congo colony at the mercy of the Power which holds French Congo,
and thereby the highway to the ocean.
Given security of control and also of communication, what economic
future, actual and potential, is there for Belgian Congo?
[Sidenote: VEGETABLE ASSETS]
That rubber of the indigenous kind exists to-day in the recesses of
the forest is true. This, as I have said, applies especially to the
Aruwimi, Lake Leopold and Kasai regions, but only in comparatively small
quantities. This indigenous product finds a sale to-day only because of
the high prices which rubber has commanded during recent years. Many
manufacturers are now refusing to touch native rubber at all, because it
is so full of impurities. There are, indeed, many competent observers
who state that when in a few years’ time the yield of cultivated rubber,
coupled probably with a successful manufacture of synthetic rubber has
forced down the price of the better qualities, then the common and impure
varieties from West Africa will be driven out of the market altogether.
Of the various classes of rubber, that of the Congo is probably the
worst, consequently the future of the colony cannot be based on an
exploitation of the indigenous rubber latex.
Ivory has in the past figured largely in the Congo budgets, but the
ruthless exploitation of rubber had its counterpart in the wanton
destruction of elephants in order to obtain rapidly every tusk of ivory.
The old Congo State agents frequently sent out parties of soldiers in
search of elephants; to these men ivory took a secondary place to “meat,”
naturally, therefore, they cared very little for the ivory, and the
results of these battues were frequently deplorable. I remember once
witnessing one of these parties return with “meat” from two young female
elephants and in the canoes they had also brought with them the dead
bodies of two baby elephants which they had deliberately killed.
The two remaining products to-day are gum copal and palm oil. In the
closing year of the Congo State the former was certainly exploited _en
regie_, but mainly in those districts where exhaustion was overtaking
the rubber forests. The latter produce has never formed any appreciable
article of export.
Gum copal is to-day found in almost unlimited quantities in many parts of
the Equatorial Zone and throughout the towns and villages the traveller
meets natives everywhere engaged in its preparation. The gum taken from
the upper part of the tree and near the surface of the earth is excellent
in quality and much of it would easily command 1s. a lb. in Birmingham or
London. The natives, however, readily accept 2_d._ per lb. but with any
degree of competition prices would of course rise. Several companies are
buying to-day faster than they can export.
Whilst passing through the towns, we were frequently assailed with the
cry, “White man, won’t you buy our copal?” I questioned some of the
merchants upon the possibility of an early exhaustion and was informed
that in the Equatorial regions the exudation, if removed, replaced itself
within a single season. My observation of some hundreds of copal trees
in different areas leads me to regard this as a somewhat optimistic
statement. It is certain that considerable profit can be made from the
purchase and export of this virgin product, for at the rate now ruling it
can be purchased and transported to Europe at an inclusive cost of about
4_d._ per pound.
Palm oil exists all over the Congo. In many districts the palm forests
cover several square miles, but whether it can be produced at a profit is
somewhat doubtful.
[Illustration: GUM COPAL FOR SALE, UPPER CONGO.]
[Illustration: GOVERNMENT IVORY AND RUBBER, UPPER CONGO.]
There remain, therefore, but two actual virgin products possessing any
certainty of a future—copal, and the fruit of the palm tree; rubber can
only be regarded as an ever decreasing asset.
What, then, are the potential assets?
[Sidenote: OTHER ASSETS]
In the mineral world there are some possibilities in gold, diamonds and
copper, but all these are somewhat doubtful assets and contribute but
little to the general welfare of the community which must rest primarily
upon agricultural development.
Almost any tropical product will grow in the Congo, for the area is so
vast that it provides land suited in one part or another to coffee,
cotton, rubber, cocoa, hemp and corn. The product of the future will not
be determined only by the nature of the land upon which a given article
can be grown, but rather by the one that is most suited to the native
agriculturist.
The real difficulty is that few Belgians seem capable of thinking
anything beyond rubber on the one hand, and the native as a servile
labourer on the other. Colonial opinion in Belgium and on the Congo
itself appears to be firmly wedded to this restricted view of colonial
expansion. This circumscribed vision can comprehend the serf, the
labourer, or the domestic slave, but the free, industrious and successful
coloured citizen, carving out an economic future, in which the State
can indirectly share, is apparently beyond the mental horizon of most
of those who at present control the destinies of the Congo tribes. True
statecraft would have placed a halo round Annexation Day, making it
one of great rejoicing throughout the Congo by declaring that through
the action of a generous Administration rubber collecting by the State
would from that date cease for all time. But through lack of colonial
imagination this great opportunity for regaining the confidence of the
native tribes was thrown away, and the Administration rehoisted the old
Congo State flag with a miniature Belgian flag relegated to the corner,
at the same time letting it be known that upon rubber production—the
synonym of horror to the native mind—the future would depend.
The failure of the rubber cultivation enterprise is complete. Whatever
the man in the street may think, the Belgian Government knows that
Monsieur Renkin’s scheme for relieving the Belgian Exchequer has utterly
failed. The twenty to thirty millions of _productive_ rubber trees
dangled before the eyes of the Belgian tax-payer exist only on paper.
Cotton has been proposed, but what possibilities has cotton cultivation,
not only in the Congo but anywhere in West Africa, where it comes into
competition with cocoa or palm oil? Cotton requires that the worker
should toil under the fierce rays of a tropical sun; it demands constant
attention if it is to be kept free from weeds and undergrowth, and when
the harvest is gathered the native can never receive the financial reward
which attaches to palm oil and kernels or to cocoa. In a crude way the
West African is a careful mathematician, and though in his primitive
condition he knows nothing about square yards, acres and compound
interest, he can soon tell what products he can grow most profitably on a
given piece of ground—and cotton is not one of them.
[Sidenote: CONGO POSSIBILITIES]
If the Belgian colonial authorities could divorce themselves from rubber
and concentrate on cocoa they might yet turn the Congo wilderness into
a garden. A few enterprising Belgians have already seen possibilities in
the cocoa bean. Its cultivation is at present undertaken by the Belgian
Government, the Roman Catholic Missions, and by a few small companies.
The principal area is that of the Mayumbe, a compact territory between
the Belgian Congo and the Portuguese river, the Chiloango; there are
other plantations a thousand miles from the mouth of the Congo on the
banks of the Aruwimi and also of the main Congo, but these latter are
characterized by such neglect that no one regards them seriously.
It is difficult to imagine a tract of country more ideally suited to the
cultivation of cocoa than that of Mayumbe. The hills and valleys abound
in water-courses, the soil is good and the climate reminds the traveller
very much of the Gold Coast territories. Some of the plantations run for
miles along winding valleys, but the great trouble with Mayumbe is that
perpetual nightmare—common to the whole of West Africa—scarcity of labour!
Within three days’ steam of the Congo, the British colony of the Gold
Coast has solved the question of labour, has started an industry which
gives the native producer a return of over a million and a half sterling
per annum, has provided the European consumer with a great cocoa area
which twenty-five years ago produced little beyond internecine warfare
and jujus, and yet the Belgian Government has never even given a
practical consideration to this unique example of colonial expansion
which could so easily be applied to the Congo.
Rubber and cotton have but a small future in the Congo. Sisal, gold and
copper have a possibility, but cocoa, the products of the palm tree, and
any other vegetable oils, give promise of a real future, provided cheap
transport and sound statesmanship are forthcoming.
An oppressive sense of hopelessness affects the traveller in the Congo
as he speeds up and down those mighty rivers, across the numerous lakes,
or tramps through the silent forests. He sees the possibilities of that
land, the earth he treads gives forth an intoxicating odour of fertility.
The tribes amongst whom he lives and moves are nature’s children and the
little incidents of daily travel impress him with the fact that, given
a chance, those sturdy bodies and stout limbs could turn Congoland into
a paradise of affluence and luxury. Then, as he muses on these things
and dreams of ideal homes and villages, and tropical plantations pouring
forth exchange values of oil and cocoa for cotton goods and hardware, the
practical mind, like Newton’s apple, comes down to earth again and weighs
actualities and asks the pertinent question—“Can Belgium do it?”
The Congo demands large financial aid from the Mother country. This is a
fact which has never been realized by the ordinary Belgian—and he might
object if he knew. Even the British subject, whose colonial conception
has grown with him from childhood, has very little idea of the large
sums of money which are found by Great Britain towards aiding her Crown
colonies along the path of progress. Belgium cannot expect to run the
Congo successfully without large drafts from her home Exchequer; her
colony, measuring nearly a million square miles, will require at the very
least a million pounds sterling per annum for twenty years. Belgium can
beyond question find that sum of money, providing her people are prepared
to share the black man’s burden which their late Sovereign made so heavy.
The difficulty, however, is that King Leopold and his entourage made
such prodigious fortunes that the Belgian people have always regarded
the Congo as a veritable El Dorado. The Belgian colonial authorities
reiterated again and again, until quite a recent date, that the Congo
would never involve the nation in financial sacrifices. Couple this
impression, so wickedly fostered by politicians who should have known
better, with the fact that the Belgian has no colonial conception, and
the reader will agree that any statesman will have a difficult task in
persuading the Belgian nation to make large and continuous grants from
the Home Exchequer.
[Sidenote: BRITISH COLONIAL CONCEPTION]
The British conception rests upon a profound belief in the old
scriptural paradox: “He that loseth his life will save it.” The Colonial
Office in Downing Street does not, like its sister bureau—the Foreign
Office—display texts of scripture on its ceilings, and the Colonial
Secretaries might not in this material age admit scriptural guidance
in Imperial affairs, but woven into the fibre of our administration
is a basis of Christian philosophy which, though it admits occasional
incidents of a regrettable nature, yet pursues in the long run the
straight course of sacrificing men and money for backward nations and
countries, quite regardless of consequences. The cynic will say, “Yes,
with the certainty that the goose well cared for will lay golden eggs.”
Certainly, but that is part of the Divine contract for pursuing that
which is right. This, however, is what few Belgians understand—or
any other colonial Power for that matter—but it is part and parcel of
colonial statecraft without which tropical colonies at least can never be
a success.
The financial problem, difficult though it may be, is the easiest of
solution. That of finding the men is at present insoluble. This is,
in part at least, due to another fatal error made by Belgium when she
annexed the Congo—the retention in her service of all the old Congo
officials. They are there to-day, many of them pressing on to higher
positions in the colony. The fact that these men, trained to oppression
by King Leopold and openly upholding the old Leopoldian conceptions,
are still in high favour does not escape the quick-witted native, and
of course tends to alienate still further the native and governing
communities.
[Sidenote: LACK OF MEN]
There are, however, other dangers arising from this situation. These
“old hands” are educating the juniors, and in the process are instilling
into their young and inexperienced minds a dissatisfaction with present
conditions and emphasizing to them that the older system of “teaching
the natives the dignity of labour” was better all round. They are always
careful to add “without atrocities, of course,” but what they cannot see
is that the old Leopoldian system was impossible “without atrocities.”
It will be readily agreed that when the burden of the Congo begins
to make itself felt upon the Belgian nation these reactionaries—“Men
from the spot,” “Men of long experience”—will find a ready echo
throughout Belgium. Again, as in the financial position so also in the
administrative future of the colony, the call comes for the really bold
statesman, strong enough to break completely with the past and to clean
out of the Congo these _soi dísant_ administrators, who, incapable of
appreciating colonial requirements, should return to their original
employments of running music halls, tram driving, breaking stones on the
highway, ’bus conductors, waiters, bricklayers, clerks, and so forth.
“How,” I am often asked, “could these men be replaced?” First, the very
fact that such men are no longer in the service would undoubtedly attract
the better families of Belgium, for it may be remarked that many of the
merchant houses are able to obtain an excellent type of man. I asked
some of them why they did not enter the Government service, but almost
invariably I received this kind of answer: “What! join a service with A⸺
in it!” “What! accept a position under B⸺!” These replies were eloquent
and convincing to one who easily realized how utterly impossible it
would be for the better type of man to associate with “A⸺” and “B⸺,”
their records being so well known in the Congo, however much they might
be covered up at home. Here again is further evidence of the lack of
colonial imagination amongst the higher officials in Brussels. If Belgium
cannot find—as admittedly she cannot—a sufficiency of experienced men in
Belgium, cannot she find them in France and England? She can find them,
of course, in both countries, but hesitates to employ other nationalities
for the higher positions, with the result that very few men are prepared
to accept positions with futures “only for Belgians.”
A Scandinavian captain recently gave me a good example of the results
of this folly. He informed me that a friend of his reached Stanley
Pool one day with his ship after an up-river journey of three weeks.
Arriving at “The Pool,” as the upper river port is designated, the then
superintendent of the marine—who, it was openly stated, knew more about
the manufacture of cheap pickles than stevedoring—instructed him to load
up 90 tons of cargo and sail within three hours!
In vain the captain protested that it could not be done in the time, and
the only reply he received was a batch of natives hurried down to bundle
the cargo pell mell on board; they pitched the cargo into the holds in
any order and the captain heaved up his anchor and got away as instructed
“within three hours,” but the task of sorting the whole cargo at every
little post over that 1000 miles’ run, turned a normal journey of two
weeks into one of over a month. I cannot vouch for this incident, but it
is typically Congolese.
The Congo territories denuded of their stores of virgin wealth, with
no new sources in sight; the people decimated and disheartened; the
Home Government possessing no Colonial experience, and still worse no
Colonial conception; the local officials still firmly wedded to the old
theories, constitute anything but a happy augury for the future. That
Belgium possesses many men animated by the loftiest sentiments is beyond
question, but mere sentiment does not meet a situation which requires
a broad outlook, a large experience and real sacrifice both in men and
money.
PART IV
MORAL AND MATERIAL PROGRESS
I.—The Products of the Oil Palm.
II.—The Production of Rubber.
III.—The Production of Cocoa.
IV.—The Progress of Christian Missions.
I
THE PRODUCTS OF THE OIL PALM
With the date palm we have been long familiar, the cocoa-nut palm
likewise, and those too which decorate our ball-rooms, galleries and
banqueting halls, we greet as delightsome friends, but what is the oil
palm—the Eloesis Guineensis of West Africa? It is said that five thousand
years ago its sap was used by the Egyptians for the purpose of embalming
the bodies of their great dead. To-day by its aid we travel thousands of
miles at express rate; it has been so handled by modern science that it
enters largely into our diet; the merchants in Hamburg and Liverpool make
fortunes out of it; millions of coloured people live by it, and yet it is
barely known to the civilized community. A fortnight’s fairly pleasant
steam from Liverpool brings the traveller in sight of the high red clay
coast line of Sierra Leone, and there the oil palm first greets the
traveller in all its luxuriant grandeur.
[Sidenote: PROPAGATING THE OIL PALM]
From Freetown away down the coast as far as San Paul de Loanda, the
traveller is never far from the home of the oil palm—the most valuable
tree of West Africa—probably the most prolific source of human sustenance
in the world. She greets the traveller everywhere as he steps ashore; she
invites him to the cool shade of her avenues leading to some hospitable
bungalow; she affords a shelter at intervals along the scorching dusty
track—as welcome as an oasis of the desert; she waves at him vigorously
from the hill-top like some fluttering banner, or gently nods her
graceful plumes in the still valley; she stands as sentinel on the
outskirts of the native village, or like some giant memorial column on
the plain. All nature strikes the African traveller dumb with admiration,
but above all in entrancing loveliness the graceful oil palm reigns
supreme.
To the parched and weary she is at once meat and drink and friendly
shelter. Her palm cabbage and nut oil are no less palatable than her
foaming fresh-drawn wine, and if no other home affords, her branches
offer a temporary and not comfortless dwelling. She provides her guest
with oil to lubricate his gun, with fibre to plug his boat if it springs
a leak; her fronds serve as a weapon to combat the infinite torment of
flies, or interlaced as a basket to carry a meal. To her the native goes
for a tool or a cooking-utensil, a mat or a loin cloth, a basket or a
brush, a fishing net or a rope, a torch or a musical instrument, a roof
or a wall. To him she is a necessity, to the traveller a luxury, to the
merchant a fortune, to the artist a subject full of charm.
[Illustration: AN AVENUE OF OIL PALMS, 10 YEARS’ GROWTH.]
Professor Wyndham Dunstan has stated that the oil palm “does not occur
thickly much beyond 200 miles from the coast.” Since those words were
written we have learnt that whole forests of the oil palm exist over a
thousand miles from the coast. It thrives throughout West Africa wherever
the atmosphere is sufficiently humid, but it loves best of all the
swampy valleys of Sherboro Island and Nigeria, the cocoa farms of San
Thomé, the Gold Coast and the Congo, which are by it provided with the
necessary protection from the scorching sun and from the fierce tornadoes
which sweep periodically over the land. In the strictest sense the oil
palm has never yet been an object of cultivation in West Africa, neither
is it in the literal sense self-propagating. The housewife, separating
the fibrous pericarp from the nuts, tosses the latter aside or scatters
the residue on to the rubbish heap behind the hut, with the inevitable
result of an early and vigorous crop of young palms. In the course of
time the inhabitants of the village, according to African custom, pick
up not only their beds, but also their huts, and walk, perhaps something
less than a mile away, where they clear another piece of forest land
and build up another village. The old site, thus abandoned to nature,
is quickly covered with vigorous growth, but in the race for supremacy
the graceful palms lead the way and become the communal property of the
former inhabitants.
The screeching grey parrot of West Africa with its horny bill tears the
oily fruit from the bunch, after consuming most of the oleaginous fibres
of the pericarp, drops the nuts whilst flying, far and wide. These, in
turn, add to Africa’s economic wealth, and thus do man and animal join in
spreading through ever wider regions the growth of the oil palm.
Within ten years the tree begins to push out its bunches of fruit,
beginning with tiny bunches of the size, shape and appearance of an
ordinary bunch of black grapes. Some trees bear in eight years, and an
earlier date still is claimed for certain varieties, but the fruit at
this stage seldom yields any appreciable quantity of oil. From fifteen
onwards to a hundred and twenty years, the palm plantations give forth
an almost continuous supply of fruit, every tree bearing twice a year.
In the rainy season the supply is most abundant, but in the second
period, known by many as the “short wet” season there is a fair secondary
harvest. All the trees do not, however, bear at the same time, and in
many areas of the Equatorial regions where the seasons are not sharply
defined or always regular, the supply of nuts is never exhausted.
In appearance a head of fruit resembles a huge bunch of grapes with
long protecting thorns protruding between each nut, and a good bunch
will contain from 1500 to 2000 nuts. A single fruit in appearance is
about the size of a large date, and the pericarp is composed of fibre
matted closely together with a yellow solidified oil, which fibrous
substance envelops a nut or “stone”; this in turn encloses a kernel of
the size and shape of a large hazel kernel, in appearance and composition
indistinguishable from the well-known “Brazil nut.” From the fibre a dark
reddish oil is obtained, whilst the kernels that are shipped to Europe
yield a finer white oil.
[Sidenote: COLLECTING THE NUTS]
The almost universal practice amongst the natives in harvesting the nuts
is to climb the tree by walking up the trunk with the aid of a loop of
stout creeper. Arriving at the top at a height of sixty or eighty feet,
the man deals a few vigorous blows with an axe which severs the bunch
or bunches from the tree and they then fall to the ground. As the whole
family usually takes part in the production of oil and in the division
of labour, the man, having cut down the fruit, descends the tree, picks
up his protective spear or gun, and returns home, closely followed by
the wife and daughters, who transport the bunches of nuts in the wicker
baskets which they have woven in their spare moments.
In every colony a similar process is adopted to separate the fruit from
the parent stem. Until it is over ripe, the fruit not only adheres firmly
to its stem but the porcupine thorns sometimes two inches long, make
separation anything but a pleasant task. The tribes everywhere collect
the clusters or bunches into heaps and cover them with plantain or banana
leaves, exposing them to the sun for from three to six days, the effect
of which is that the nuts, subjected to the hot rays of a tropical sun
and cut off from the refreshing sustenance of the mother tree, lose their
tenacious grip and readily drop away from their stem.
The methods adopted to force the oil from the fibrous pericarp differ
considerably in the several political divisions of West Africa. Roughly,
however, they fall into two divisions: (_a_) by fermentation; (_b_) by
boiling; and in certain parts of the Kroo Coast by a combination of both
methods.
The fermenting process is carried out by placing a large quantity of
separated, but hard, nuts into a hole about four feet deep, this having
been first lined with plantain leaves. In the regions nearer the coast
towns, these pits are either paved or cemented inside and in some cases
they are both paved and cemented. The nuts are covered up and then left
for some weeks, even months, to ferment thoroughly. They are then either
pounded in the pit with wooden pestles, or they may be taken out and
treated in prepared wooden mortars.
The process of boiling is more expeditious. The nuts are boiled or
steamed until the firmly coagulated fibre shows signs of yielding; then
they are placed in an old canoe or large mortar and pounded with wooden
pestles. In both processes, whether by fermentation or by boiling, the
oily fibre separates itself from the hard inner “stone.” The fibre, which
is by this time a tangled mass of yellow and brown, is then taken and
squeezed, sometimes with the aid of water, through a woven press and a
stream of golden liquid results. Sometimes loads of the oily fibre are
thrown pell-mell into a large canoe half filled with water in which the
children delight to paddle, causing the oil to rise to the surface, when
the elders skim it from the top and carry it in earthenware pots for
boiling and straining before sending it on its way to the market and the
European consumer.
[Sidenote: OIL AND KERNEL TRADE]
The oil, however, is but one exportable product of the palm tree; the
value of the inner kernel may be gathered from the fact that over four
million pounds’ worth of palm kernels are sent to Europe every year. This
kernel is encased in an extremely hard shell, which varies so much in
size that until quite recently there was no satisfactory “stone” cracking
machinery in Africa. There are now several machines on the market, but
the old grey-haired lady of the West African kraal, with her primitive
upper and nether grind stones, still makes by far the most reliable
“cracker.”
[Illustration: “WALKING” UP TO GATHER FRUIT. WEAVER BIRDS’ NESTS ON THE
PALM FRONDS.]
[Illustration: HEADS OF OIL PALM FRUIT.]
At Victoria, in German Cameroons, we saw an elaborate set of machinery
for dealing in turn with the oily fibrous pericarp of the nut, and
later, extracting the kernel from the inner stone. The latter process
was that of a general crushing, then throwing the entire mass into a
brine bath and so separating the shells from the kernels, which were then
taken out and dried in the sun. This process, while being infinitely more
expeditious, has the obvious drawback that a large proportion of the
kernels are so bruised and broken that it entails a considerable wastage
of oil.
THE PALM IN TONNAGE AND IN FIGURES STERLING.
Exports in round figures for the year 1911—
OIL. KERNELS.
Tons. Values. Tons. Values.
French Senegal 1 36 1,418 14,300
” Guinea 53 1,300 4,500 36,600
” Ivory Coast 5,800 107,100 5,340 45,500
” Dahomey 14,400 254,100 34,200 400,000
” Congo 125 3,100 570 7,600
British Gambia — — 447 4,758
” Sierra Leone 2,902 69,930 42,893 649,347
” Gold Coast 6,441 128,916 13,254 175,891
” Nigeria 77,180 1,696,875 176,390 2,574,405
German Cameroons 3,000 63,000 13,500 177,530
” Togoland 3,050 61,600 8,100 101,700
Belgian Congo
(approximately) 700 20,000 2,500 40,000
------- ---------- ------- ----------
113,652 £2,405,957 303,112 £4,227,631
TOTAL OUTPUT.
Tons. Values.
Oil 113,652 £2,405,957
Kernels 303,112 £4,227,631
------- ----------
416,764 £6,633,588
The proportionate output from the palm trees from the different colonies
of West Africa is therefore—
Square mileage
of territories. Tons. Values.
French 992,000 66,407 £869,636
Belgian 900,000 3,200 60,000
British 454,160 319,507 5,300,122
German 224,830 27,650 403,830
Production in figures sterling per square mile under the several
colonizing Powers—
£ _s._ _d._
Great Britain 11 13 3 per square mile
Germany 1 16 0 ” ”
France 0 17 8 ” ”
Belgium 0 1 4 ” ”
Whilst the palm provides one of the principal exports of West Africa for
consumption in Europe, its domestic uses are inseparable from native
life. The fruit is used by the natives in many sections of primitive
culinary art. Pounded with manioca leaves, Indian corn and red peppers,
a savoury pottage is manufactured which is a universal delight. One of
the choicest vegetables in the African continent is the pearly white head
of the palm, which, in small trees of two years’ growth, weighs about
1 pound, but in trees of many years’ growth, may turn the scale at 56
pounds. The substance of this vegetable differs in appearance and taste
but little from the Brazil nut, but when cooked provides a succulent
dish not unlike, though superior to, sea kale. The natives cook this
in palm oil, but Europeans usually prefer it boiled and served with a
white sauce, or baked in a custard. To obtain this vegetable is almost
invariably to destroy the tree, consequently it seldom figures on the
every-day menu.
[Illustration: THE OIL PALM IN THE GRIP OF ITS PARASITIC ENEMY.
The Creeper at an early stage. Root and Branch in deadly grip.]
[Sidenote: OIL AND WINE]
Meat, fish and fowl are all of them stewed in palm oil, and, as African
meat is deficient in fat, the palm oil makes an excellent and appetizing
substitute. I once smelled a very savoury native “hot pot” which, upon
examination, revealed a wonderful mixture. The liquid was golden with
palm oil, and floating about, adding to the compendium of flavours, I
detected bats and beetles, a flat fish “cheek by jowl” with a monkey’s
head, caterpillars fitting themselves in with sections of field rats and
parrots—altogether a stew delightful to the nostrils, at least of the
African boys and girls who squatted around the huge clay cooking pot. The
white man, though he usually has no keen appetite for native stews or
pottage, lunches and dines off “palm oil chop” with as great a relish as
does his Indian confrère upon “curries.” The “chop” may be fish, flesh or
fowl, but it all goes by the name “palm oil chop,” which has a happy and
almost essential knack in West Africa of hiding a multitude of “foreign
bodies.”
No African meal can be regarded as complete without the addition of palm
oil, and, as a beverage, palm wine is extensively though moderately
consumed. This sparkling beverage closely resembles in appearance the
“stone ginger” of civilization. The tribes on the Upper Kasai are
probably the greatest consumers of palm wine in Africa. In those parts
of the tropics where quantities of sugar cane are cultivated, palm wine
competes with a sister product from the cane; the sweet and somewhat
insipid taste of the latter being more palatable to some tribes than
the sharp flavour of the palm wine. The Eloeis wine is the sap of the
palm tree itself, extracted by various means, generally by cutting off
the male flower-spike and fixing a calabash to the wound to catch the
juice which is removed every morning. Another method is to remove the
palm cabbage or head; yet another, to cut down the tree and “dig” a hole
in the heart of the trunk, from which the liquid is then scooped into a
calabash or earthenware pot. Europeans generally prefer the wine when
fresh from the tree, owing to the fact that after a few hours it begins
to ferment and loses its sweetness.
The oil palms of West Africa are taking an increasing share in supplying
the temporal wants of both the white and the coloured man. It is safe
to say that there is no tree in the universe capable of providing to so
great and varied an extent, the daily wants of the human organism.
[Illustration: FINE HEADS OF OIL PALM FRUIT.]
II
THE PRODUCTION OF RUBBER
Rubber has been known for the last four hundred years, but it is only
within the last century, or little more, that it has been put to
practical use. Civilization was for nearly three hundred years content
with the historical fact of Pincon’s Indians of Brazil playing “ball”
with crude lumps of rubber, and then it awoke to the fact that rubber
could be used to erase pencil marks. In our boyhood Charles Macintosh
had established its use as a protective from rain, but in our manhood
the annual demand of Great Britain alone for rubber has grown to nearly
50,000 tons. We have lived through the sensation of a “Rubber Boom” which
is only now commencing to exact its toll for the immeasurable folly of
the thoughtless investing public.
The native use of rubber in West Africa as also among the Brazilian
Indians, was first as an aid to merrymaking, in the form of heads of
drum-sticks, and in that capacity evoked harmonious chords from the
goat-skins tightly stretched over the hollowed forest log. How little
these early Africans dreamed that this simple aid to the charms of
music would one day deluge their Continent in human blood! There are
to-day very few colonies in West Africa without rubber forests which
nature—prodigal here as everywhere with her economic gifts—planted
generations ago.
The discovery of the great West African rubber supplies dates back about
thirty years, but it is a remarkable fact that Stanley in his books on
the Founding of the Congo Free State, laid very little stress upon the
future of rubber in the Congo.
In 1882 Sir Alfred Maloney urged Southern Nigeria to wake up to the
possibilities of rubber, and in 1894 Sir Gilbert Carter, to whom our
Nigeria colony owes so much, invited a party of Gold Coasters to explore
the hinterland forests with the result that they discovered an abundance
of what appeared to be rubber-bearing plants and trees. The native
community then set about vigorously searching for rubber with the result
that the “Ireh” tree was discovered, and specimens of its latex forwarded
to Kew in 1895. Although it had been discovered in the Gold Coast colony
ten years earlier the administration in Nigeria was apparently in
ignorance of the fact.
There is some evidence that King Leopold received the first intimation
of the almost fabulous stores of rubber in the Congo forests between the
years 1888 and 1890, and the alert mind of that astute monarch lost no
time in formulating plans for its exploitation in the Congo Free State,
and what is less generally recognized in the French Congo also.
Since 1885, when the African product first made its presence felt in
the rubber market, the natives of that continent have gathered and
sent to Europe over 250,000 tons of rubber, the outstanding fact being
that all this latex represents sylvan produce, the replacement of
which is extremely doubtful. Dr. Chevalier is of the opinion that the
natives themselves received for the total output 500,000,000 francs or
approximately 9d. per pound. This I very much doubt, for it must not be
forgotten that a large proportion of the rubber was obtained, if not for
nothing, then for very little.
[Sidenote: WEST AFRICAN VARIETIES]
The principal sources of rubber latex are the Funtumia (Ireh) and the
Landolphia varieties, which, to the ordinary reader, fall respectively
under the classification of trees and vines. The full-grown Funtumia
tree measures from 2 ft. 6 in. to 4 ft., or more, in circumference. The
growth of the Landolphia is wild and erratic, creeping along the ground
sometimes for several yards, then gradually winding its way through the
undergrowth and away up the limbs and branches of the firmly rooted
forest giants to a height of forty to fifty feet, then in the full
enjoyment of light, it becomes vigorously prolific, sending its leafy
branches in all directions, and interlacing the trees overhead. Most
scientists seem to agree that it is only when the Landolphia emerges into
the sunlight at the tree tops that material size is imparted to the main
stem. From the economic standpoint it is important to bear in mind that
ordinarily a Landolphia vine takes from ten to twenty years to climb its
way up the tree trunk of the average forest tree, at which period the
main stem of the vine is seldom more than one inch in diameter.
Beyond question by far the larger proportions of rubber from Central
Africa have been obtained from the Landolphia vines, that from the Congo
basin almost entirely so. Next in order comes the output from Funtumia
forests of the more northerly latitudes, and beyond this a certain amount
of grass rubber has been obtained, but the results barely justify the
trouble involved.
The extraordinary development and almost general investment in the rubber
industry have familiarized the public with rubber production. Almost
every schoolboy could write an essay upon the herring-bone or half
herring-bone tapping, coolie lines, spacing and so forth. The production
of rubber conveys to most minds well-ordered estates of upright trees,
model workmen’s dwellings, drying and boiling sheds, constructed by
skilled Europeans, rolling tables, hot and cold water supplies, all under
the control of neatly clad coolies. None of these conditions apply to
West Africa, for there everything is to-day primitive.
The larger Funtumia trees are tapped in a very rough “herring-bone”
manner and the latex caught either in leaves or in a calabash, and then
transferred to a wooden receptacle for coagulation, but large numbers
of trees have been bled to death through the almost incessant tapping
to which they have been subjected. Funtumia more than any other variety
requires carefully-regulated tapping, and it is well-nigh hopeless to
expect the native collector in the hinterland regions to exercise that
degree of care which the Funtumia tree demands as the price of giving
forth a sustained output. The damage done to the bark alone in the rough
and ready methods of extraction almost invariably renders the tree unfit
for future tapping; the trees will live sometimes for a few years, but
before long they perish. Dr. Chevalier, writing of the Ivory Coast,
says: “Wherever exploitation has spread it has caused the adult Funtumia
trees to disappear very rapidly. Some are cut level with the ground by
the natives in order to extract their maximum yield, others, tapped
too frequently, die standing, at last there remain only young Funtumia
trees, under fifteen years of age.” This is true of the major part of the
rubber-bearing regions of West Africa.
[Sidenote: METHODS OF EXTRACTION]
Several methods are followed in the extraction of the latex from the
Landolphia. In every case that has come under our notice the vines were
cut down with little thought for the future. Indeed in the upper regions
of the Congo the natives sever the vine close to the ground and then
tearing it from the trees to which it clings, they cut the vines into
lengths of about eighteen inches and pile them into stacks so that from
the severed ends the latex may bleed into forest leaves or gourds. Many
of the tribes raise the stack of severed creepers upon forked sticks
and kindle a slow fire beneath as they assert that the latex flows more
freely and completely with the application of heat.
The whole process is beyond question most wasteful, particularly where
the natives not only sever the vine, but dig up the roots, compelling
these also to yield up their stores of latex. To-day as the traveller
marches through the rubber forests of the Congo basin he meets every few
yards little heaps of decaying vine from which the rubber has been taken.
Frequently too, one sees overhead a tangled mass of dead vine which has
withered away through the main stem having been severed. The natives
were either in too great a hurry, or else unable to climb for those
spreading vines which would often measure some hundreds of yards.
Another method is that adopted by the native tribes in the Kasai River of
the Congo, and the Lunda province of Portuguese Angola. Whole families
or tribes will make a temporary home in the forest, pitching their
little huts on a piece of high ground near a stream. Every day the men
will scatter in all directions cutting down and gathering the vines into
bundles which they will convey to these little encampments.
The bark of the vines is then stripped off and laid out on blocks of
wood, old canoes, boards, or trunks of trees, preparatory to beating it
with heavy wooden mallets, which process gradually reduces the bark to
a stringy mass not unlike shredded tobacco. It is then threshed with
smaller mallets which in time gradually pulverize the wood element into
fine powder, leaving “pancakes” of red rubber, about the size of a
breakfast plate. These are then cut into thin strips, starting from the
outer edge, and wound into balls, just as the manufacturers wind balls
of knitting wool. This method though equally wasteful in collection,
conserves the whole of the rubber latex.
Travellers in the Kasai territories of the Congo are generally first
aware of their approach to human habitation by hearing the distant thud,
thud, of the rubber mallets which is a feature of almost every village of
that region.
[Illustration: CARRYING RUBBER VINES TO VILLAGE.]
[Illustration: EXTRACTING RUBBER, KASAI RIVER, UPPER CONGO.]
Hand in hand with the rubber work of the Congo is that of cane basket
making, which the busy women weave in all sizes for packing the rubber,
thus avoiding the heavy cost of importing “shooks” or barrels from
Europe. Every year some hundreds of thousands of these light but very
strong hampers are made for conveying the rubber to the buying stations
and thence to the European markets.
[Sidenote: THE FUTURE]
The West African rubber problems of to-day which overshadow all others
are those of exhaustion and replenishment. Are the forests denuded of
rubber, and if so, is there any probability or possibility, of rubber
cultivation to replace the exhausted supply? Both these phases of the
question are difficult of complete and categorical answer.
For thirty years now exploitation has been running wild through the
forests, and within the last fifteen years the rate and methods of
exploitation have from every point of view been ruinous. The Funtumia
trees have been ruthlessly cut down and even where tapping has taken
place, it has been done at any and every season of the year, and in
general practice tapped whenever and wherever the tree would yield an
ounce of rubber.
Dr. Chevalier is of the opinion that the Funtumia will replace itself
owing to the remarkable habit of self-propagation which the tree
possesses. The light feathery seeds are easily carried upon every breeze
it is true, but unfortunately there is little hope of preserving these
young trees from crude and reckless tapping in the farther recesses of
the forests. It is generally accepted that the rubber vine areas are
being rapidly exhausted. Mr. Consul Mackie says of the Congo, “Wild
rubber in districts in which it has been worked on an extensive scale,
is now becoming scarce in places. Many of the large rubber zones have
been worked out completely.”
We were informed by natives of the Kasai who were bringing in their
rubber to the factories, that whereas ten years ago they had only to go
one or two days into the forests before finding rubber, they now have to
journey nearly a fortnight before they can locate any appreciable number
of vines. Throughout the Equatorial regions of the Congo, the rubber
vines and trees are so completely worked out that the natives have given
up attempting to collect rubber and devote all their energies to gum
copal and palm oil.
Most disinterested “coasters” will support Dr. Christy in the opinion
that if the African rubber industry is to depend upon the wild forests
there is very little chance of its survival.
[Sidenote: CULTIVATION IN THE CONGO]
Within the last fifteen years efforts have been made in various colonies
to cultivate rubber. The most promising results are certainly in Nigeria,
where the Benin communal plantations are proving so successful that
villages in other districts are commencing similar plantations. Many
thousands of Funtumia trees are now ready for tapping and some of the
rubber obtained has secured 6s. 6d. per pound. Individual native farmers
are now taking up rubber planting, and in Southern Nigeria we saw some
well-ordered plantations under native control, one of which started in
1896 has over 30,000 trees and gives promise of a good output. In the
Gold Coast the natives are interspersing Funtumia trees with their cocoa
plants, under the instruction of Government advisers. In Belgian Congo
vigorous efforts have been made for the last twelve years to cultivate
rubber. In the year 1899 a Royal decree was issued requiring that 150
trees or vines should be planted for every ton of rubber exported, and
in June, 1902, the number of plants was raised to 500. As a further
incentive some of the Concessionnaire Companies gave a bonus to their
agents for every tree planted. The ordinary Belgian being very keen on
piling up his banking account the planting was pursued with vigour. As,
however, the ordinance did not specify the variety to be planted the
Agents of the State and Concessionaire Companies planted varieties good
and bad, known and unknown! until on paper the total number of trees
planted ran into many millions.
Every few months an Inspector was supposed to visit these areas, but as
this official usually had an area of about 25,000 square miles under
his control, he was seldom able to visit more than one centre every
year. Badly paid, with little allowance for provisions, this man usually
responded to the warm hospitality of his planter host, and generally did
not make exhaustive inquiries into the rubber planting. On one occasion
such an inspector visited a district after the Agent had gone to Europe,
in order to “check” the trees and vines before the new Agent arrived to
take over the stock and plantations. He asked me if I could direct him to
one plantation of 60,000 trees and vines of which he possessed a neatly
drawn chart. I could only direct him to where the plantation was supposed
to exist, and he immediately set off on what I hinted was a useless
journey, and as I expected returned in the afternoon without having
discovered a single vine!
Apart from these paper plantations there are certainly several millions
of rubber trees in the Congo, and every species almost has been tried.
At one time the Belgian tax-payer was told that the Manihot Glaziovii
was going to provide fabulous returns, but when the floods came and the
winds blew, the spreading Manihots caught the force of the elements and
toppled over in all directions like ninepins. The Funtumia was then
going to save the Congo from financial disaster, but the “borers” took a
fancy to the tree and this, coupled with the fact that in the Congo the
Funtumia yields but little rubber, all serious attempts at the extension
of Funtumia have been abandoned.
Hopes are now being centred upon the Hevea Braziliensis, but though
many of these trees are of ten years’ growth the yield is equally
disappointing.
In German Cameroons rubber planting is being pushed forward mainly with
the Funtumia and Hevea varieties. In Portuguese West Africa hopes are
centred upon Manihot and Funtumia.
The best that can be said of the rubber cultivation in West Africa is
that it has not yet passed the experimental stage, and that there is some
promise of success in the Gold Coast and Southern Nigeria.
[Sidenote: RUBBER COMPETITION]
There is, however, one other factor which must not be overlooked, Mr.
Herbert Wright pointed out last year that cultivated plantation rubber
would soon be arriving in quantities which would cause embarrassment to
the rubber merchants. It is certain that when this happens prices are
bound to fall, perhaps dramatically. The question for the West African
rubber planting community to ask is: can they, when prices fall, compete
with the West and East Indies, where labour is plentiful and cheap, and
where there is practically no costly land transport. A merchant from the
Straits Settlements once informed me that West African rubber producers
must be prepared to compete with the East—at 9d. per pound. If that
prediction should be justified by future events then West Africa will be
wise to concentrate upon its trusty friends the Oil Palm and Cocoa Tree.
III
THE PRODUCTION OF COCOA
Cocoa to most individuals is suggestive of carefully and tastefully
packed tins, or in chocolate form, of delightful little packages done
up in neat silver paper and prettily tied with bows of silk ribbon. To
others it means a welcome and fragrant breakfast or supper beverage. To
few, indeed, does it represent anything else. The man in the street, if
he thinks at all upon investing his savings in cocoa, argues that after
all there is a limit to human digestion, particularly where sweetmeats
are concerned, consequently he need not trouble himself about “futures”
in cocoa for the field is at best a restricted one. It never occurs
to him that the demand for every species of vegetable oil and fat is
becoming more clamant every day. Somehow he never asks himself why
Bournville, York and Bristol cocoa is 2_s._ 6_d._ per pound, and Dutch
only 1_s._ per pound. He presumes, and if he tries it he knows, that
one quality is better than the other, but it does not occur to him that
there is something in the one beverage which is lacking in the other.
The butter from the latter—the pure fat too expensive to eat, but not
too expensive to incorporate in pomades for personal adornment, has been
extracted. There is no more rigid limit to the demand for cocoa than to
the demand for rubber; not only so, but nothing has yet appeared even on
the horizon of our imagination that can take the place occupied to-day by
the cocoa bean, both for internal and external consumption. This cannot
be said with regard to rubber, wool or silk.
[Illustration: COCOA ON SAN THOMÉ. TERMITE TRACK VISIBLE ON THE TRUNK OF
THE TREE.]
[Sidenote: COCOA IN CULTIVATION]
The total world’s supply is to-day close on a quarter of a million tons
of cocoa per annum. The East and West Indies and the great Amazonian
Valleys, have for generations poured their supplies into Europe, but
it is only within the last thirty years that West Africa has made her
influence felt upon the cocoa markets of Europe. It is very difficult to
obtain reliable evidence as to the colonists who first introduced cocoa
to West Africa, probably the credit for it belongs to the Portuguese,
whose love of colonization is everywhere evinced by the plants, fruits
and grain which they conveyed in past years from one continent to another.
Given a humid atmosphere, a well-watered land and a tropical sun, cocoa
will grow almost anywhere up to a height of nearly 1500 feet. Of such
lands enjoying atmospheric conditions highly suitable to the production
of cocoa, there are nearly one million square miles in the tropical
regions of the West African continent. San Thomé and Principe, with less
than 300 square miles under cultivation, supply to the world’s markets
over 30,000 tons of cocoa every year; if, therefore, but one quarter of
the potential cocoa producing areas of West Africa could be brought under
cultivation at the same rate, there could be produced over 25,000,000
tons of cocoa.
To-day cocoa is being cultivated in the German colonies of Togoland
and Cameroons; in the Portuguese colonies of Cabenda, San Thomé and
Principe; in the Belgian Congo; in the Spanish island of Fernando Po, and
in the British colonies of the Gold Coast and Nigeria. In all these the
production has distinctive features.
From the standpoint of plantation arrangements and the application of
scientific methods, the Portuguese in San Thomé are easily first. This
no doubt is due to the fact that for over twenty years the planters have
been concentrating all their efforts upon the cocoa bean. Throughout
their whole area San Thomé and the sister island of Principe are under
cocoa cultivation and the traveller never gets away from the sour
odour of fermenting cocoa. A series of high hills and deep valleys
with numerous rivulets represent the physical features of the islands.
The hill ranges, for the most part, rise tier above tier, until they
culminate in the Pico da San Thomé with an altitude of just over 7000
feet. The summit of the peak is seldom seen, for the island lies bathed
in mists, which warmed by a tropical sun provide the ideal cocoa-growing
climate.
The streams which flow unceasingly down the hillsides are scientifically
trenched so that a continuous supply of water traverses the cocoa groves
all over the islands, and the farms in the centre of each group of
plantations all enjoy a plentiful supply of excellent water.
[Sidenote: PORTUGUESE COCOA]
The fermenting sheds are all of them organized in an up-to-date manner
for which a knowledge of industries in other Portuguese colonies hardly
prepares the traveller. Nowhere throughout West Africa are there such
scientific and elaborate cocoa drying grounds as one sees on these
Portuguese islands. The majority of cocoa planters in West Africa are
satisfied with cemented drying grounds in open courtyards. The cocoa is
spread out to dry and left in the open not only during the whole day,
but throughout the night. On several roças on the cocoa islands, the
Portuguese have, at enormous expense, fitted up drying grounds which are
mechanically moved into shelter whenever a storm threatens. Doubtless
it is due to the great care exercised by the Portuguese in the work of
fermenting and drying that their cocoa is so uniformly good.
Altogether there are nearly 300 roças on the two islands and, with one
or two exceptions, they are in Portuguese hands; there is a Belgian
plantation, and one or two are owned by natives whose ability to make
cocoa production a financial success is demonstrated by the fact that one
who died recently left £6000 for the education of the children of San
Thomé.
The cocoa plantations on these islands are all so compact and within such
easy reach of the sea-shore that transport is quite easy. Both horses and
mules live fairly well on the islands, and these, coupled with bullock
carts and some 1500 kilometres of Decauville railway throughout the
islands and running out to the pier, render unnecessary the porterage
which constitutes such a problem for the cocoa planters in every other
colony in West Africa. It is a melancholy thought that this industry,
built up at so great cost to human life—both white and coloured—stands
only a bare chance of permanence. The lack of indigenous labour, coupled
with the absence of statesmanship on the part of the Home Government, can
only lead to irretrievable disaster.
The nearest approach to the Portuguese systems of cocoa production is
to be found in Belgian Congo, where physical and climatic conditions
are almost identical with those of the Portuguese islands. The first
plantations are met with close to the mouth of the river in the Mayumbe
country, but before reaching the next one has to traverse nearly a
thousand miles. These are situated at the confluence of the Aruwimi river
and the main Congo, and there are besides several small plantations on
the Aruwimi itself. As cocoa-producing enterprises, the only ones to take
into serious consideration are those of the Mayumbe country, south of
the Chiloanga—the Portuguese river, which enters the sea at Landana. The
plantations are run under three separate interests, and may be classified
as State controlled, Roman Catholic and Merchant. The merchants complain
that their difficulty in obtaining labour is greatly increased owing to
the missions and the State using forced labour for their plantations. It
seems incredible that this should be so, but these complaints are neither
new nor isolated. The Commission of Enquiry sent to the Congo by King
Leopold had evidence before it which shewed that the Mission farms at
least were largely staffed with forced labour. The following passage is
an extract from the report of that Commission in 1905:
“The greater part of the natives which people the chapel farms
are neither orphans nor workmen engaged by contract. They are
demanded of the Chiefs, who dare not refuse; and only force,
more or less disguised, enables then to be retained.”
If the Belgian Government could concentrate upon a serious development
of the Mayumbe country by laying down railways, making roads, building
bridges, opening up creeks, and rivers, there is no reason why the
Mayumbe country should not increase its yearly output of cocoa by many
thousands of tons.
The Spanish contribution to the world’s supply is not yet or ever likely
to be anything material, for as colonists in Africa the Spaniards have
ceased to count.
[Sidenote: GERMAN COCOA]
In German colonies cocoa growing is extending rapidly and from a
financial point of view satisfactorily. The German Administration in the
Cameroons, however, seems to favour such enterprises mainly as European
undertakings in which the natives are mere labourers. Within recent
years, probably in view of the success of the Gold Coast production,
some effort has been made to encourage the natives by gifts of seed
and young plants to lay down their own plantations. But the prevailing
German opinion has been set forth in a German report, published in _Der
Tropenpflanzer_ (No. 1, January, 1912), wherein it is stated:—
“What is required in the Cameroons is a more liberal policy
on the part of the German Government towards the plantations,
both as regards the terms for acquiring land, and on the part
of the district officials to obtain better facilities for
getting labour, in order to warrant and make possible a large
and profitable extension of the cocoa-planting area. This will
mean a material improvement in the prosperity of the colony,
for it is evident that what the Gold Coast has achieved by
means of an intelligent population, and under suitable climatic
conditions, can and will never be done in Cameroons with such
material as the Bakwiris, Dualas, etc.”
Whilst colonial Germans take this view, the native certainly will never
emulate the Gold Coast tribes, for the African has a habit of acting up,
or down, to European expectations. The Editor of _Tropical Life_ truly
remarked that whilst these views are held in Berlin, “Germany would
never do any good with the Bakwiris and Dualas; neither did she with the
Herreros, and so ‘punished’ them because they, poor wretches, could not
understand the German method of ruling Africa as do the German Michels at
home.”
There is some reason to believe that the cultivation of the cocoa bean
began in Cameroons and Victoria some years earlier than that on the Gold
Coast, and it is even claimed by some that the phenomenally successful
industry of the British colony was commenced with a seed pod obtained
from Ambas Bay.
[Sidenote: A ROMANCE IN COCOA]
There is probably no single feature in colonial enterprise which can
compare with the cocoa romance of the British colony of the Gold Coast.
The honour of having introduced the industry into that colony is eagerly
debated. Everyone agrees that it belongs to either the Basel Mission
through their introduction of West Indian Christians, or to a certain
native carpenter returning from Ambas Bay, or Victoria. Mr. Tudhope, the
Director of Agriculture, is inclined to give credit to the native, but
it must be admitted that the Basel Mission authorities possess the most
circumstantial evidence in support of their claim. One of their oldest
missionaries at Christiansborg states that about the year 1885 he saw
the original cocoa tree at Odumase; another, that he saw this tree in
full bearing in 1895. It is instructive to recall that the first export,
amounting to 80 lbs. weight, was in the year 1891—that is six years after
the original tree was seen at Odumase.
The missionaries, however, readily admit that soon after their agents
introduced cocoa at Odumase, a native arrived from, the Cameroon colony
and planted beans at Mampong. From these two centres, fifteen miles
apart, the industry has established itself in every district of the
colony and penetrated ten days’ march beyond Kumasi.
The organization is of the simplest kind—purely and solely a native
industry, few of the plantations being large ones, none more than about
twenty-five to thirty acres and the majority not more than two to five
acres. We saw none owned by white men, although I believe there are one
or two, which are, however, quite insignificant. The volume of cocoa
which pours out from the Gold Coast colony flows almost exclusively from
countless small holdings spread all over the hinterland. The farms are
not so close together as those of San Thomé, but the traveller cannot
walk many miles anywhere without passing through the plantations of cocoa
and palm trees.
The atmospheric conditions resemble the Mayumbe country and San Thomé,
the rainfall varying between 32.09 and 54.92 per annum, otherwise
the territory is not so well watered as the Belgian and Portuguese
possessions. In spite of this, the colony can produce a quantity and
quality of cocoa that compares well with other areas. When at the
Botanical Gardens of Aburi, we saw a plot of cocoa measuring one and
two-fifths acres with 259 trees planted fifteen feet apart. The yield
from this plot between October 23rd and December 31st, 1909, was 18,200
pods. Mr. Anderson, reporting upon this experimental plantation says,
“Such results will not often be exceeded in any cocoa-growing country.”
In the year 1891, we almost see that Gold Coast native offering for sale
the first harvest of cocoa. It is only 80 lbs. in weight and with the
greatest ease he carries it to the white man’s store. To the amazement of
his native friends the grower received £4 for that basket of cocoa!
Twenty years later the export of 80 lbs. weight has grown to nearly 90
millions. Since the day that the native husbandman disposed of his 80
lbs. of cocoa, the industry has never wavered. We were informed by white
men who have been long on the coast that when the natives realized the
value of cocoa there was an impetuous and overwhelming demand for seed
until competition became so keen that a sovereign a bean was the general
rate!
In 1902 the export had exceeded £100,000; in 1907 it had passed
half-a-million, and in 1911 leaving gold in the rear of competition for
first place it raced away beyond the finger post of a million and a half
sterling. The whole of this, be it remembered, is a native industry!
The Gold Coast natives are justly proud of their extensive enterprise
and assert that they will not cease extending their plantations until
every acre they can cultivate and every man they can use is producing
cocoa.
[Sidenote: THE COCOA CARRIER]
Not the least interesting spectacle in the Gold Coast is the transport
of cocoa, the bulk of the inland produce being carried by porters to the
railhead, and sometimes the roadways as far as the eye can penetrate
are one long line of cocoa bags on the heads of hundreds of carriers.
This carrying trade has produced an extraordinary flow of free labour
into the whole hinterland of the Gold Coast. At Adawso, a buying station
nearly fifteen miles from the railhead, one firm alone employs in the
season over 3000 carriers who cover the distance to the rail station of
Pakro once, frequently twice, a day with a bag of cocoa. The remuneration
being according to the quantity carried, there is an eagerness to earn
the maximum within the twelve hours of daylight. The men who leave by
daybreak will return about three o’clock in the afternoon, often to
pick up another load and carry it to the railhead, returning again by
moonlight.
The carriers are mostly Hausas, but the fame of the Gold Coast carrier
traffic has spread far into the northern regions of Africa with the
result that recognized caravan routes now come right down through the
northern territories. These carriers, many of them from around and even
beyond Lake Chad, drive herds of cattle down to the Gold Coast colony
about harvest time. They sell the cattle and then carry cocoa for the
season. When the main harvest is over and there is little cocoa carrying,
they will purchase loads of kola nuts which they carry back with them to
the far interior and sell _en route_ at a considerable profit. Thus they
make a threefold financial return—on the sale of cattle, cocoa carrying,
and profits on the kola nut trade.
[Illustration: COCOA DRYING IN SUN.]
The transport of cocoa is chiefly in the hands of alien labour, and
should the flow of this labour cease from any cause whatever, the cocoa
industry would suffer a check from which it would take years to recover.
The coastal regions are fairly secure, for most of the districts within
twenty miles of the coast are reached by a daily service of motor lorries
under the management of the European cocoa-buying firms. Many of the
native farmers within thirty miles of Accra, however, with true African
trading instinct prefer selling their cocoa at a higher price at the port
of embarkation, and so have created the interesting system of “barrel
rolling.” In the season these strongly bound and ponderous casks are
purchased from the European stores, filled with cocoa, and rolled to
the sea-shore. Travelling along the somewhat primitive Gold Coast roads
one meets at frequent intervals perspiring natives struggling with the
barrels which, filled with cocoa, weigh considerably over half-a-ton.
They may be “holding on” to a barrel racing down a steep incline, or
three of them straining their utmost to force the ponderous weight up a
steep hill. Occasionally they come to grief, for we saw more than one
cask which had fallen over a cliff into a deep gorge below. Generally
speaking, three men will undertake to roll two barrels to the coast, the
three concentrating their efforts upon a single barrel going uphill,
while on the level road or down hill they control the two barrels between
them. We met three such men who had rolled two casks for twenty-five to
thirty miles, a task of two days, for which they receive 20_s._ per cask.
[Sidenote: TRANSPORT DIFFICULTIES]
The problem which faces administrator, merchant and native producer
is that of transport. This threatens to become acute, for we were
informed by a merchant who recently journeyed beyond Kumasi that
large consignments of cocoa were lost owing to the lack of transport
facilities. At the same time, given a fair price for cocoa in the home
market, just treatment for transport labourers, the extension of roads
and light railways, there is no reason why a single ton of cocoa should
fail to reach the coast.
In the Gold Coast colony the white man occupies his normal position
in the tropics—the connecting link or middle-man between the European
manufacturer and the native producer. The Government very wisely
endeavours to keep the industry in the hands of the native farmers and
assists them by sending lecturers through the colony, whose duty it is
to advise the farmers upon pruning, fermentation, drying, the danger of
pests, and the general principles of modern agricultural science. With
inherent instinct, the British Government recognizes that the real asset
of the colony is the indigenous inhabitant, whose material and moral
progress is not only the first, but the truest interest of the State.
The other British colony in which cocoa has a future is Southern Nigeria.
To read the Government reports of ten years ago there seemed little hope
that the natives of this colony would become cocoa farmers, or indeed
that they would ever do much more than vegetate in the agricultural
world. Africa is the land of surprises, and more and more the African is
surprising Europe by exploding “the lazy nigger theory.”
The Acting Secretary of Southern Nigeria, writing his 1903 report from
Old Calabar, said:—
“With every year that passes, it becomes increasingly
important that new exports, indicating new areas of work and
development, should make an appearance on the export lists of
the Protectorate. That ‘Palm Oil’ and ‘Palm Kernels’ will ever
cease to be the dominant products is more than unlikely; but
these products demand nothing from the native in the way of
labour that the veriest bushman cannot carry out. Portions of
this Protectorate must be gradually turned over—and education
may succeed, where persuasion fails—to the production of other
commodities. It is not in the nature of the average West
African to lay out capital for which there is no immediate
return. He can understand the yam growing at his door; he can
understand the cask of oil to be filled before his ‘boys’ can
return with the required cloth, pipe, or frock-coat, but he
will not sow for his son to reap; nor will a village work, of
its own initiative, for the benefit of the next generation
that is to occupy it. It is this difficulty that has rendered
so great the task of encouraging the rubber industry. It is
for this reason that cocoa and coffee have never been properly
taken up by the natives themselves.”
This is just what the Belgian and German Governments are proclaiming
to-day.
[Sidenote: DOUBLING THE OUTPUT]
At this period cocoa was just beginning to grip the native mind in
Southern Nigeria; he had begun to “sow for his son to reap”; he had begun
to understand something more “than the yam growing at his door”; he had
in fact just dispatched 300,000 lbs. of cocoa to Europe. The very next
year the Acting Governor was able to write: “There has been an enormous
development in cocoa,” and the Southern Nigeria natives, as if in
unconscious protest against the Governor’s 1903 report, poured into the
European markets over 1,000,000 lbs. of cocoa beans! Two years later, the
export had risen to 1,500,000 lbs. Turning to the Government report three
years later again, we find that the export had again doubled itself,
and was then over 3,000,000 lbs. “These figures,” said the Colonial
Secretary, “indicate the extraordinary expansion that has taken place of
late years in the cultivation of this plant.” Finally, turning to the
most recent report, we find that the export has again doubled itself in
two years, _i.e._ over 6,000,000 lbs.
The actual figures are as follows:—
1903 288,614 lbs. £3,652
1904 1,189,460 ” £18,874
1906 1,619,987 ” £27,054
1908 3,060,609 ” £50,587
1910 6,567,181 ” £100,000 (approximately)
It is somewhat doubtful whether this ratio of doubling the output every
two years will be sustained, for it is considerably in excess even of the
Gold Coast rates of increase. There are advantages possessed by Southern
Nigeria which natural conditions deny to the Gold Coast—the heavy surf,
and the lack of good shipping accommodation, tell heavily against the
merchants and the native producers of the Gold Coast, whereas it is
possible to load and unload cargoes in Lagos without their suffering any
damage from sea water. Again, the cocoa areas of Southern Nigeria enjoy
in the main a more generous water supply than those of the Gold Coast.
The general statistics of the cocoa trade, compiled upon the
materialistic basis of tons and sovereigns, are not without interest
to the man outside the cocoa community. For example, the Portuguese at
present produce more cocoa on their two little islands of San Thomé and
Principe than any other cocoa-producing area in the world. They produce
from those 400 square miles of volcanic rocky land more than twice the
quantity produced by the Republic of Venezuela with a tropical region
of nearly 400,000 square miles. At the same time out of the eighteen
cocoa-consuming countries of the world the Portuguese are proportionately
the smallest consumers of Linnæus’ “Food of the Gods.” Another
interesting feature is the growth of the British export from the West
African colonies. Within ten years this has multiplied itself something
like twelve times over, _i.e._ in round figures from about 2500 tons in
1902 to over 30,000 tons to-day.
Cocoa grows apparently with greater ease in West Africa than in any other
cocoa-producing area in the world. The elaborate systems of manuring
which seem imperative in most tropical colonies never enter the head of
the West African producer. He piles the fermenting husks in heaps between
the rows of trees and then when thoroughly decayed he throws the refuse
round the base of the trees.
Insect pests abound, in fact it is seldom one sees a cocoa tree free
from the tunnels of the devouring termite, and the bark-boring beetle
too makes his presence felt, particularly in the German Cameroons, but
in the great cocoa-producing colonies of the Gold Coast and San Thomé,
the natives and the Portuguese are profound believers in the principle of
“live and let live,” at least in favour of the insect world. The Germans,
in all things scientific, have attempted to deal with the pest-ridden
area by manuring with superphosphate and potassium chloride, and a
largely increased yield is claimed for areas treated in this manner.
[Sidenote: SPACING]
In very few plantations that we visited was there any adherence to the
wide spacing so strongly advised by expert agriculturists. The British
Botanical Gardens of Aburi set an example by laying out experimental
plots with cocoa trees fifteen feet apart, but the natives in that
colony, and also in Southern Nigeria, ridicule this advice and declare
that at such distance they find the rays of the sun are able to penetrate
so freely that the ground becomes baked and the roots are robbed of
the humidity which is vital to the growth of good cocoa trees. It is
noteworthy that on Grenada and other West Indian estates, there is also
a tendency to plant more closely than the experts advise. Neither in the
Gold Coast nor in Southern Nigeria do many plantations give wider spacing
than eight feet apart, and thus many of them crowd from 500 to 700
trees upon a single acre. The plantations in British West Africa being
entirely under native control, there are no very reliable statistics
upon the annual yield per tree. One official at the Botanical Gardens of
Aburi estimated that the natives obtain about 7 lbs. of cocoa per tree
per annum; this is a very high average, and I am inclined to think seldom
attained, for in Trinidad the annual yield is somewhere about 1 lb. per
tree. We visited one large cocoa plantation in Southern Nigeria, where
a native had planted 100,000 cocoa trees about one-half of which were
already yielding, and from the 50,000 he had obtained within the year 30
tons of cocoa, or an average per tree of a little over 1¼ lbs.
The most important question, that from which the planter is never
free, is that of labour. The Germans put the labourers on contracts of
twelve months with wages of 8_s._ to 10_s._ per month with food, but
the conditions of these plantations are not likely to inspire any great
enthusiasm amongst humanitarians or economists. The abject fear exhibited
by the natives whenever the white man approaches is too eloquent to be
mistaken, moreover the whip is carried by the planters as openly as a man
in Europe carries a walking-stick. Whips and free contracts seldom go
together. Under another section I have dealt with Portuguese labour which
in the main is a system of slavery, although it carries with it a paper
wage of about 10_s._ per month and rations.
[Sidenote: COST OF LABOUR]
The native farmers of Southern Nigeria and the Gold Coast employ a good
deal of native labour and generally speaking find little difficulty in
obtaining all they want. These native farmers, however, prepare their
contracts somewhat differently from the European, generally they are for
“twelve months of thirty working days,” and the wages vary from 15_s._ to
20_s._ per month, whilst a foreman will get 30_s._ a month. The labourers
are free to go at any time, but those who complete their contracts to the
satisfaction of the employer are usually given a bonus.
Cocoa growing is probably the least arduous labour in the tropical world
of agriculture, as it involves less exposure and at no stage can it be
called dangerous as is the case with copra, palm oil and indigenous
rubber. The proportion of labourers employed varies according to the
colony and circumstances. In the island of Fernando Po, the planters
endeavour to employ one man per acre, but the restricted supply of labour
seldom permits so ideal a proportion. In the Portuguese island of San
Thomé, one labourer is allowed for each hectare under cultivation, but it
must require a good deal of “persuasion” to get a native to control an
average of at least 2¼ acres of cocoa.
Concurrently with native labour is the question of white supervision
which is necessarily costly. On one cocoa plantation of San Thomé, with
a total expenditure of £23,000 no less than £3000 is spent upon white
control. Upon those Belgian plantations of Mayumbe which are cultivated
by free labour, there is barely any white supervision, whilst on the
Portuguese islands the proportion of employés works out at about one
white man to every thirty natives.
So far as it is possible at the moment to forecast the future of cocoa
production in West Africa, the British system alone rests upon a solid
basis, for the obvious reason that all other fields are dependent
upon systems of labour supply which have little chance of continuance,
much less extension. The indigenous industry of the British colonies
working in its own interests, unencumbered by the heavy cost of European
supervision and the drawbacks of imported contract labour, will, under
the guidance of a paternal and sympathetic administration, certainly
outdistance and leave far behind in the race for supremacy such systems
as those which prevail in San Thomé and Principe.
This virile British enterprise which is bounding forward throughout
the Gold Coast and Southern Nigeria has only one real enemy—the
concessionnaire hunter. Fortunately, the British Government is fully
alive to the danger and is determined, so far as possible, to keep the
agricultural land in the hands of the natives. If this can be secured
without placing powers in the hands of the Government which would lead
to widespread disaffection and unrest amongst the natives, then the
cocoa industry of British West Africa promises to eclipse all other
cocoa-producing areas of the world.
IV
THE PROGRESS OF CHRISTIAN MISSIONS
The day has gone by when the world could dismiss Christian missions
in West Africa with a contemptuous sneer, for Christian missionary
effort with its eloquent facts, definitely established, can no longer
be ignored. Of all the forces which have made for real progress in West
Africa, Christianity stands some say first, others second, but none can
place it last. To it belongs primarily in point of time at least, the
economic prosperity of the Gold Coast. To it belongs, almost entirely,
the credit for the native clerks and educated men on the coast. To it
the natives owe their knowledge of useful crafts. To one section of the
Christian Church at least belongs the honour of having on the spot saved
the Congo natives from extirpation.
Whilst all missions have much in common, the investigator cannot but
observe the fact that administrators and commercial men alike will, in
the majority of cases, hold in a measure of contempt the Protestant
missionary, whilst they esteem highly his Catholic brethren. One searches
for a reason for this attitude, which can neither be found in the
devotion of the missionary—for heroes abound in both sections—nor is it
to be found in the character and success of their respective missionary
labours, for in this particular both sections are witnessing encouraging
results. The only answer which the administrator and trader will give
is that Father O’Donnell is “a good fellow.” It is difficult to escape
from the conclusion that the good father is more “diplomatic” than his
bluff and somewhat puritanical Protestant _confrère_. The Protestant
missionaries with greater freedom than that allowed to the Catholic
Fathers, criticize administrations, report abuses, and generally give
any form of oppression or iniquity a quick, even reckless exposure. The
colossal crime of the Congo was exposed on the spot almost entirely by
the Protestant missionaries, although far outnumbered by the Catholics.
In the French Congo are established several Roman Catholic Orders, yet
hardly a priest has raised his voice against the atrocities committed
there. The slavery of Angola and San Thomé has been exposed primarily by
Protestants, the priests standing by and for the most part content to
witness the traffic in human beings without a protest. I do not condemn,
but merely state facts. I know too well how the sufferings of native
tribes have appealed to generous members of the Roman Catholic Church,
but no review of Christian missions in West Africa would be honest or
complete without some reference to this fundamental difference between
the two great sections of the Christian Church.
[Sidenote: MISSIONARIES AND ABUSES.]
My chief reason, however, for calling attention to this feature is that
the antipathy towards Christian missionaries is hardly likely to become
less marked in the near future. The great changes which are taking
place may precipitate a grave situation within the next twenty years.
The attitude of administrators is no longer the benevolent tutelage of
native races. There is an increasing autocracy in most colonies; the
martial spirit with its harsh regulations and rigorous discipline, so
out of place in nature’s calm paradise, is permeating every department
of affairs. This spirit brooks no opposition, knows no sympathy, and
sometimes even forgets justice. It blows hot or cold, where and when it
listeth, but it tends always towards menacing native peace and progress.
High-minded Christian men must be driven by this restless spirit into an
increasingly resolute defence of their native communities.
Commercial methods, too, are undergoing a still more far-reaching
change. As I have already pointed out, the old-time merchant is giving
place to the highly organized syndicate, which possesses neither heart
nor conscience and is generally strong enough in influence at home and
power abroad to menace any administration, and, if necessary, threaten
the various Governments in two, three and even more countries at one
time. The missionary, bold in his isolation, knowing no higher earthly
authority than his highly tempered conscience, willing, if need be, to
suffer any extremity, is bound to find himself more and more in conflict
with the exploiting energy of these vigorous dividend seekers. This
conflict is of course an excellent tonic for the Church, but it makes the
lot of these isolated men and women in Central Africa very much harder to
bear.
The forces of Christianity have not yet made much headway in the far
hinterland of the Sierra Leone Protectorate, the northern territories of
the Gold Coast, nor in Northern Nigeria. In the Sierra Leone colony,
where slaves liberated during a period of fifty years were dumped down
as they were released by British battleships, Christianity has permeated
fairly completely the life and habits of the people; nearly two-thirds
of the population are nominally Christian, whilst the Mohammedans number
less than one-tenth. In the Gold Coast the traveller may witness some
of the most effective missionary work in West Africa. The Basel Mission
alone has over 30,000 adherents who find about £5000 a year towards
mission expenses. Another notable fact is that the natives have invested
in the Mission Savings Bank over £23,000, a sum considerably in excess of
the amount deposited with the Government. As was the attitude towards the
Quaker bankers of Puritan England, the Christian community of the Gold
Coast is regarded by the natives as the safest repository for the wealth
of both worlds.
[Sidenote: CHRISTIANITY AND MOHAMEDANISM]
In Southern Nigeria Christian missionaries find themselves confronted
with a firmly entrenched Mohammedan community. Something over fifty per
cent. of the population is Mohammedan, and that of a most attractive
order. None can meet the leading Mohammedans of that colony without
being impressed with their simple piety and their tenacity to what they
regard as their invincible faith. Officialdom opposes the advance of
the emissaries of Christianity in the more northerly territory, on the
ground of trouble with the Moslem community. This attitude is regarded by
most Mohammedans as anything but a compliment to their religious faith,
holding firmly as they do that the Koran is powerful enough to withstand
all the assaults of another creed. Below Nigeria, that is south-east of
the Niger delta, Mohammedan influence is left behind, and Christianity
is confronted with simple paganism. Not the bloodthirsty and strongly
entrenched barbaric paganism which confronted Livingstone in East Africa,
Ramseyer at Kumasi, Hannington in Uganda, and Grenfell in the Congo, but
a paganism so broken by the forces of civilization, so rent and riven by
internal mistrust, that the masses of the people are crying out: “Who
will show us any good?”
Efforts to win West Central Africa to Christianity divide themselves into
two periods. The first effective efforts were made by the Portuguese
and Dutch settlers in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. The
first period was almost exclusively due to Roman Catholic zeal, which,
under the blessing of the Pope, regarded the tropics as a preserve of
the Vatican. The nineteenth century witnessed but little advance, until
Livingstone’s enthusiasm and his romantic career lighted a flame which
spread throughout the civilized world, and Protestantism, awaking to its
opportunity, began to pour missionaries into the tropical regions of
West Africa. The Basel Mission attempted the Gold Coast, and its first
missionaries perished to a man; the Church Missionary Society pushed on
its work from Sierra Leone away up the Niger, where men and women did
little more for a time than replace the dead and dying; the Methodists,
never behind any other denomination in enthusiasm, began work in Sierra
Leone, Calabar, and the islands of the Gulf of Guinea; the Baptists
established an excellent mission in the Cameroons, where they were
“elbowed out” by the Germans, and at a later date commenced their great
work in the Congo.
[Sidenote: RELIC WORSHIP]
Little remains in the social life of Africa as a result of the work of
the early Roman Catholic missionaries. The tribes have no settled church
organization based upon the devoted efforts of three centuries ago.
Ruins may be seen in several parts and extremely interesting ones too.
On the islands of San Thomé and Principe, we frequently saw the partial
structure of churches, one of which must have been erected very early
in the sixteenth century, for a tomb close to the chancel, grey with
age and moss grown, was dated 1542. If the colonists of San Thomé were
zealous slavers, they certainly gave much of their ill-gotten gain to the
erection of churches. Fragments of these edifices are lying about in the
tropical undergrowth and an examination will show that marble pillars,
façades, altars, even common stone, had been gathered from the four
corners of the earth to build ornate “Houses of God” on these isolated
rocks in the Gulf of Guinea. Visiting one of these ruins we were struck
by the pathetic reverence with which the natives regarded those crumbling
walls; the priest had long since died, and there was none to lead those
almost hopeless souls along the path of religious faith. Standing inside
those four walls, gazing at the broken altar and the creeper-clad walls,
we were forced to keep our heads covered, for the ruin had lost its roof
generations before, and the equatorial sun was pouring its direct rays
upon us. Directing a question to some of the natives standing near by, we
were amazed to find that they refused to answer; two or three times we
repeated our questions, but they all maintained immovable positions and
refused to utter a single word. A man close at my elbow then informed me
that no native could reply whilst the white man kept his hat on his head
in the House of God! The silent rebuke of those simple natives forced us
to leave the precincts of the old ruin and pass into the little chapel
which still remains more or less watertight. Into this place, not more
than ten feet square, the natives had moved the images of the Virgin
and Apostles, and in the centre of the room a native palm oil lamp sent
forth its unpleasant odour. This lamp was half African fetish and half
salvation to those natives, for their worship had degenerated into a sort
of corrupt Zoroastrianism, and the Alpha and Omega of their religion
seemed to be the uninterrupted burning of this light. They were most
insistent that since the foundation of the church, between 1500 and 1530,
the light had never been allowed to go out!
This, however, was but one testimony to the relic worship of the slave
islands. Along the roadsides, in secluded corners of out of the way
roças, nestling in plantain groves, the traveller may see miniature
chapels constructed from rustic forest tree branches, very similar to
the fetish houses of the mainland of Africa. In most of these one also
sees little prayer-stools, and in all of them a rude cross roughly cut
out with the native axe and the cross pieces bound together with forest
vines. Most of these crosses are surrounded by native pagan charms, and
thus all that is least essential in Christianity is joined together in
native religious fervour with the superstitions of paganism, and this
gives a melancholy impression of the result of the years of toil and
sacrifice by men and women devoted to the theory of the Christian Faith.
[Sidenote: ICHABOD]
Ichabod is written along every roadside and in every ruined chapel; the
very images in decay seem to utter the word, and the mind is compelled
to recall the fact that Christianity in creed only, without Christian
practice, is foredoomed. Surely the curse of the miserable slaves of
generations ago rests upon everything on those islands; by their agony
and bloody sweat they toiled to erect those magnificent churches, the
crack of the whip on the slave plantations extorted the gold which
purchased the images of the Virgin, to add lustre to countless churches
and to purchase images of the compassionate Christ for the cross roads
and public places. One wonders what all this parade meant to the slaves
at the time. They have long ceased to suffer the bonds of slavery, or the
crack of the whip; those slaves whose toil built the churches and bought
the crucifixes have gone, and though decay everywhere marks the one-time
existence of an unholy Christianity, one element remains and flourishes—a
slavery, without any hope beyond that which may be inspired by the hybrid
of effete Christianity wedded to African superstition.
[Illustration: THE CRUCIFIX IN AFRICAN FETISH HUT ON THE ISLAND OF SAN
THOMÉ.]
[Illustration: RUIN OF ONCE IMPOSING CHURCH ON THE ISLAND OF PRINCIPE.]
The results accruing to the second period of Christian propaganda have
the unmistakable signs of a vitality which will revolutionize Central
Africa. Whilst purely missionary zeal centres itself upon the heroic
figure of Livingstone, recognition must be given to Henry Stanley, and
also—though one hesitates to couple the name with these two heroes—to
King Leopold. Looking back upon African history, one fact emerges above
all others, that the work of Livingstone and Stanley together had
created an international interest in the position of the peoples and
the possibilities of the countries in those regions. This condition
observed by King Leopold, his master mind promptly seized and exploited
it. The crafty Belgian monarch saw that by preaching Christianity and
civilization for the African, his long-awaited opportunity for colonial
expansion and a place in history would be gratified,—a place in history
he has that none assuredly will envy; his people, too, possess a colony,
and though they do not see it to-day, they will yet heap their curses
upon the sovereign who has fastened the millstone round their necks.
The labours of Livingstone, Stanley, and King Leopold, culminated in the
Conference of Berlin, which was unique in that it had for its programme
not only the interests of honest commercial expansion, the suppression of
the slave-trade, the sale of arms, ammunition and alcohol, but also that
of stimulating Christian missionary propaganda, and by its subsequent
treaty, missionaries were encouraged to win pagan tribes from barbarism.
The immensity of the area which by this historic event was thrown open
under international stimulus to the forces of Christianity is not
generally realized. The Congo basin extends far beyond the boundaries of
the Belgian colony. Its northern frontier reaches the tributaries of the
Niger and the Nile, while its eastern border includes a large section of
German East Africa, and in the south and west larger areas still of both
British Central Africa and Portuguese Angola come under the operations
of the Act of Berlin. In and around this great pagan area, almost as
large as the European continent, the forces of Christianity have within
the last half century been concentrating their energies.
Christian effort in these regions is confined to no single country,
and is the monopoly of no single denomination. Great Britain, America,
Germany, Sweden, and France have all found devoted men and women, and
have all poured forth most generously the necessary funds. Anglicans,
Roman Catholics, Free Churchmen, and Lutherans, have all taken their
share, selecting spheres which for various reasons they considered
themselves best able to manage.
The character of the work, however, differs considerably. At first
Protestant missions revolted against the idea of industrial missions;
they had, and it must be admitted they still have, a constitutional
objection against anything which provides a “return.” It is difficult to
find a reason for this, but probably it is due to a revulsion from the
practices of Pizarro and his miscreants in Peru, and of the slave-dealing
work of the Portuguese, in which the Church of Rome became so deeply
involved. This dislike for any other work than that of simple preaching
and teaching left to the Roman Catholics the whole field of industrial
enterprise and right splendidly they have occupied it. There are many
separate features which one dislikes, but looked upon as a complete
work the Roman Catholic missionaries are rendering noble service to
stable progress. I shall not readily forget visits to their farms on the
Congo; to their admirable outfitting, printing, house-building, and
wheelwright departments of German Togoland. In Lome we saw a score of
lads learning bootmaking under the patient tuition of a lay brother. In
the tailoring shop another score were cutting out and making suits of
every description, from the cheap 20-mark ducks to the 150-mark dress
suit to which the superintending Father was putting finishing touches—and
made for a native too!
If in earlier years Protestant missions hesitated to engage in
remunerative industrial pursuits, they scored heavily over their Catholic
_confrères_, and continue to score, in medical work. It was at first
difficult to make the native see the advisability of even comparative
cleanliness, for ablutions of any kind are, with many natives, a
degrading practice only fitted for the effeminate white race. “What! I
wash?” exclaimed an old chief to us in horror-stricken tones, when once I
asked him to take a journey to the river before sitting near our table.
However, as he proceeded to do a worse thing—scrape himself—I withdrew
and apologized for the insulting suggestion! There is some hope that the
medical fraternity will in time bring the natives to realize the value of
the bountiful streams which God has given them, though they may retort
that the devil has filled them with crocodiles.
[Sidenote: THE MEDICAL MISSION]
It is, however, certain that the tribes of Africa are beginning to value
the generous and devoted medical work of the Protestant missionaries.
Journeying up the Congo one day we had on board a chieftain who three
months before had left his village for an operation at a mission station
hundreds of miles below his home. The senior missionary in this man’s
district had persuaded him to take the journey and run the risk. The man
had been bedridden for years with an elephantiasis growth; his wives had
forsaken him and most of his friends had abandoned him. He had long given
an obstinate refusal to the missionary’s proposal, but ultimately he
was prevailed upon to make the journey to the distant mission post. The
day for departure came, and with it funeral-loving friends, and weeping
women who made the track echo with a monotonous death wail as the man was
carried on board the steamer,—never, as they believed, to return alive.
Two months later the man had come through the operation and seemed to be
in perfect health. He boarded the steamer in full vigour, carrying his
own box and sundry goods which the travelling native collects from the
long-lost brothers and cousins whom they have a habit of discovering in
every town. After three weeks’ steam, we were nearing the chieftain’s
home; what a dressing of the hair and anointing of the body took place
during several hours before the village itself was sighted! Within hail,
lusty voices shouted to the villagers that their chief was aboard and was
well and strong. The cry passed from lip to lip until the beach was lined
with incredulous natives, the most hopeful amongst them anticipating
nothing better than that the man would be carried ashore. Fifteen minutes
later the ship was at anchor, the “gangway” run ashore and lo! the first
man to stride off the ship was the erstwhile bedridden chief! It was too
much for the majority who promptly took to their heels and bolted to a
safe distance! In a few minutes, however, they realized that it was
not a spirit, but the real man returned alive and well. Gradually they
surrounded him, questioned him, gesticulated excitedly, rang the drums
to inform the countryside that so great a miracle had taken place, and
generally made such a din and noise that it was only with difficulty
conversation became at all possible. That sort of sermon is far more
eloquent to the native than many discourses on Christian ethics preached
with the inevitable limitations of a foreign tongue and at the best often
misunderstood; moreover, it renders him very receptive to Christian
teaching.
[Sidenote: MISSIONARIES AND OPPRESSION]
The advantage of medical work in Protestant missionary propaganda has
indeed been great. But it does not stand alone, for the natives have
of recent years witnessed and wondered at another spectacle—to them no
less miraculous—white man opposing white man on their behalf. It is a
grave misfortune to Christianity, and to the Roman Catholic missionaries
themselves, that they have hitherto been unable to make common cause
with their Protestant brethren in protecting natives from oppression.
There is, however, some hope that this feature is passing away and that
the future will witness their co-operation with those who fight and
struggle for native freedom, for at present the _prestige_ which accrues
to the championship of native rights belongs almost exclusively to the
Protestant communities. How powerfully this has operated was brought out
in the report of the Commissioners, whom King Leopold was compelled to
send to the Congo, in 1904. Writing in this connection, Monsieur Janssens
and his Committee said:—
“Often, also, in the regions where evangelical stations are
established, the native, instead of going to the magistrate,
his natural protector, adopts the habit, when he thinks he
has a grievance against an agent or an Executive officer, to
confide in the missionary. The latter listens to him, helps him
according to his means, and makes himself the echo of all the
complaints of a region. Hence the astounding influence which
the missionaries possess in some parts of the territory. It
exercises itself not only among the natives within the purview
of their religious propaganda, but over all the villages whose
troubles they have listened to. The missionary becomes, for the
native of the region, the only representative of equity and
justice; he adds to the ascendency acquired from his religious
zeal the _prestige_ which, in the interest of the State itself,
should be invested in the magistrates.”
Without doubt the advent of the late King Leopold as an Administrator in
Central African affairs was a calamity almost impossible to exaggerate
and had his influence continued it would sooner or later have overrun the
surrounding territories administered respectively by Britain, France, and
Germany. That they indeed suffered contamination was only too clearly
demonstrated in the case of French Congo, while German Cameroons was
not altogether free from the Leopoldian taint. On the Congo itself, the
very name of white man was made to stink in the nostrils of the native
tribes for all time, by reason of the enormities in which King Leopold
figured as the chief actor. But even that wily monarch outwitted himself;
by his protestations of Christianity and Philanthropy he was bound by
the clauses of the Berlin and Brussels Acts to countenance and encourage
missionary enterprise, and in practice to admit to the vast regions of
the Congo Valley the Heralds of the Cross. And this was his undoing, for
thereby came those exposures of almost incredible abuses, which shocked
the civilized world, and branded the arch culprit for all time as a
murderer of millions. The same fatal blunder in his diplomacy worked
on the spot salvation for the remnant of the people. They flocked from
all quarters to the protection of the missionary, who was to them the
personification of justice.
[Sidenote: THE “INGLEZA”]
What wonder that the word “Ingleza” (English) became a passport to any
native community, no matter how wild and how averse to the white man. It
is recorded that the Belgian rubber merchants, recognizing this, have
sought safety when travelling amongst hostile tribes in adopting the
name and manner of the Englishman. A certain Belgian tells how two of
his colleagues when travelling were attacked by infuriated natives whose
relatives had suffered at the hands of the rubber-mongers, and on being
told that it was the natives’ intention to first mutilate them, as they
themselves had been mutilated, and then to put them to death, one of
them in his extremity sought refuge in the reputation of the missionary
and replied, “What, put Ingleza to death!” While stoutly repudiating the
assertion that they were English, the natives requested them to sing a
hymn, and, fortunately for the desperate men, one of them remembered and
sang a verse of a hymn he had learnt somewhere, and so amazed the natives
that they let them go unharmed.
“Ingleza nta fombaka” (the Englishman never lies), has passed into a
proverb and is spreading not only throughout the Congo, but even into
Portuguese Angola. Possessing the unbounded confidence of the native
mind, the Christian missionary, reinforced by practical medical work,
may, if he desires, possess the vast unoccupied fields of the continent
and obtain there an ever firmer foothold.
[Sidenote: PROTESTANT EXPENDITURE]
Within recent years, however, Protestant missions have taken up with
increasing zeal industrial and commercial enterprises in the interests of
the natives. We were unfortunate in being unable to visit what I am told
is one of the finest industrial enterprises in West Africa—the Scotch
Calabar Mission, but apart from those of the Roman Catholics we inspected
several Protestant establishments. The British Government, recognizing
what is now becoming common ground, that a purely literary and spiritual
education does not produce the most robust type of civilized African, is
now combining technical training in industries with literary studies, and
no longer gives grants of lump sums to missions, but so much per head for
the “finished product,” _e.g._ a native attaining a given literary and
technical standard. In the Gold Coast the maximum per annum is 27_s_.
6_d._ _per capita_. In a school at Christiansborg, the annual upkeep of
which costs £500, over £170 was earned in one year by the ability of the
scholars in this way. The Primitive Methodists have a very effective
little Industrial Mission on the Spanish island of Fernando Po. Under the
vigorous and enlightened leadership of the Rev. Jabez Bell the mission
situated at Bottler Point is now so prosperous that the returns from the
cocoa farms together with subscriptions from the native members, more
than cover the expenditure. If in any forthcoming rearrangement of the
Map of Africa Fernando Po should come under Germany the character of the
Primitive Methodist Mission on that island is bound to appeal to the
practical-minded Teuton.
The price which Christian missions have paid for religious work amongst
the pagan tribes of West Central Africa can never be correctly estimated.
In the Congo alone Protestant missions have spent nearly one and a
quarter millions sterling within the last twenty-five years. Out of some
550 missionaries, over 170 have gone to an early grave, many not living
six months, some only a few days. These men and women were not only the
matured youth of their countries, but they were compelled to pass the
most rigid medical examination prior to acceptance by the missionary
boards. They were indeed the flower of the Christian Church; moreover,
the very difficulties and dangers which were known to exist, served to
attract none but the strongest characters. Some people, incapable of
recognizing sterling qualities in any but themselves, have written and
spoken of missionaries as those who could not have made their way in
any other sphere of life. Whatever may be true of other mission fields,
so far as the missionaries of West Africa are concerned, the majority
resigned good and assured positions and accepted a comparative pittance
in order that they might serve what surely is the greatest of all causes.
I have failed to obtain statistics from the Roman Catholic Church, but
the foregoing applies equally to the devoted men of that body. With them,
as with the Protestants, it has been _via crucis via lucis_.
The following statistics, so far as they are a guide to Christian
progress, show some of the results achieved by the missionary forces of
Protestantism in West Africa:—
Annual
Native
_Sierra Leone_ Adherents. Scholars. Contributions.
Anglican 12,700 3,283 £7,267
Methodists 7,584 2,665 —
_Nigeria_
Anglican 40,700 15,089 £11,676
United Free Church 6,431 3,675 £2,834
Methodists, including French Dahomey,
German Togoland, and Fernando Po 7,137 3,793 —
_Gambia_
Methodists 1,058 594 —
_Gold Coast_
Society for the Propagation of the
Gospel 3,273 — £677
Methodists 61,481 7,821 —
Basel Mission 35,000 — £9,500
_Congo_
Baptists 4,536 11,637 —
American Baptists 5,230 7,500 (est.) —
Presbyterian 10,000 8,000 —
Swedish 1,821 5,721 —
French Protestants 1,800 1,000 —
_Angola_
Methodists 750 1,083 £325
Other Missions in West Africa
Estimate 15,000 8,000 400
------- ------ -------
Totals 214,501 79,861 £32,679
From the statistical tables of the Protestant Missions, we have a known
membership and communicant list of over 200,000 men and women, and nearly
80,000 scholars under daily Christian instruction. If to this be added
an equal number in connection with the Roman Catholic Church—probably a
generous estimate—West Central Africa possesses a Christian Church of
something approaching half a million strong. This, however, does not
take into account the large native interest in Christianity evidenced by
the considerable purchase of the Scriptures. Every year the British and
Foreign Bible Society ships some thousands of pounds worth of Bibles to
the different colonies, the natives contributing an increasing sum to the
Bible Society, which gives a “return” in cash from the native Christian
community of the Protestant Churches of over £30,000 per annum, or an
average contribution of over 4_s._ 3_d._ per head throughout the Churches.
[Sidenote: INDUSTRIAL RESULTS]
The fact that the results of missionary industrial enterprise are
hampered by a not unreasonable dislike to “profit-making” prevents
embarkation upon those bye-products of industrial activity which render
commercial enterprise financially sound. A missionary is usually quite
willing to teach men to adze timber, plane boards, square joints, lay
bricks, and grow cotton and rubber, but he knows that his Board and its
supporters regard “profit” with a very critical eye. Richard Blaize, an
educated native of Abeokuta, left his fortune to meet this difficulty
and now extensive workshops are erected at Abeokuta, and all the public
buildings of that splendid city have been erected “at a profit” by the
Christian Industrial School of Abeokuta.
In the Gold Coast the German Basel Mission leads the way with engaging
vigour in the matter of industrial missions. The commercial section of
the Mission includes industrial training institutes, and nothing could
be more pleasing than the interest and energy with which the natives
devote themselves to cabinet work, coach-building, and agricultural
pursuits; but the main activities of this department are those of
the ordinary African merchant with the exception that the agents are
forbidden to sell spirituous liquors. This branch of the work, which is
conducted by twenty-three “mercantile” missionaries, is in every respect
admirable. One of the leading railway managers remarked to me that,
“The most business-like commercial house in the colony is the Basel
Mission; their men always know how many trucks they will require, their
trolleys are to time, their goods properly bagged and labelled, and their
whole organization so smart and up-to-date that they never dislocate
the traffic.” There can be little doubt that the attention given to
business by the representatives of the Mission is due to the type of
white men they can command—none are accepted unless they agree to make
their employment a matter of conscience, and develop their commercial
undertakings with the same motive as that which animates their spiritual
brethren, with whom they share all things in common, with the exception
of salaries, those of the mercantile brethren being considerably higher
and based, to some extent, upon returns. The white agents are assisted by
coloured men in charge of branches, many of whom can show a record of
service extending from 12 to 15 years, and some of them are now drawing
salaries—including commission—of £500 per annum. These men are to be
found on Sundays teaching in the Sunday schools, and preaching at the
out-stations of the Mission.
[Illustration: INTERIOR OF MISSIONARIES’ HOUSE. BASEL INDUSTRIAL MISSION.
FURNITURE MADE BY GOLD COAST MISSION SCHOLARS.]
The capital for these operations is derived, in the main, from three
sources: (1) the Basel Mission itself; (2) shareholders connected with
the Mission, whose dividends are limited to 5 per cent. per annum; (3)
from funds in the Mission’s Savings Bank, into which the natives of the
colony have placed for security considerably over £20,000 at interest
varying from 3½ to 5 per cent.
The results of the Mission’s work can be seen all over the colony; the
polite native clerks, the managers of stores, the English-speaking
planters, the coloured Government officials have nearly all of them
received their training at the Basel Mission schools, and the Acting
Governor does not hesitate to recognize that his best officials have been
produced by the Mission. Testimony of this nature is unhappily seldom
forthcoming from other colonies.
The industrial section usually executes orders to the value of about
£4000 per annum; its go-carts, trolleys, traps, and waggonettes are sent
into almost every colony from Sierra Leone to German Cameroons. The net
profits of this department average slightly over £400 per annum.
The commercial department is certainly one of the most profitable
enterprises in the colony, and the stores of the Mission are crowded
with purchasers throughout the day. The exigencies of business naturally
precluded the possibility of obtaining with any degree of exactness
the volume of trade done by the Mission, but some of the figures are
eloquent testimony to the confidence the natives have in these mercantile
missionaries. In the year 1909-1910, the Mission exported 35 tons of
rubber, 14,000,000 lbs. of palm kernels, 600,000 gallons of palm oil, and
nearly 17,000,000 lbs. weight of cocoa beans.
The profit-bearing transactions of the Basel Mission cannot be much under
£150,000, which on the moderate basis of 8 per cent. net profit would
provide the Mission Exchequer with a sum of £12,000 per annum. Government
grants-in-aid of educational work amounted in 1910 to £240. There are
also periodic collections in aid of Mission funds; the native Church at
Nsaba, for example, collected £240 last year. The whole expenditure of
this Mission must be almost, if not completely, covered by its income
from the various operations.
Whatever the actual financial position of this Mission, its general
business operations, splendid educational institutions, its devoutly
spiritual atmosphere, combine in forming one of the greatest—if not the
greatest—force for progress in the Gold Coast colony. But the price has
to be paid, for, according to the report of the Acting Governor, “The
highest death-rate was again amongst the missionaries!”
[Sidenote: DANGER AHEAD]
The future of Christianity in West Africa is hopeful but it has its
dangers. First its very success may lead to disastrous consequences. In
the early years the mission work was almost entirely in the hands of the
extreme evangelical section of the Church, who subordinated everything
to the actual work of preaching. We understand and sympathize with the
fiery zeal that believes in doing all the preaching, but the native
thinks the preacher a strange being, and frequently does not understand
two sentences of Anglicized Bantu, or worse still, his Bantuized English!
Circumstances have broadened the outlook and men are beginning to
realize the value of training the native to do the preaching, contenting
themselves with an apparently more restrictive sphere in the class-room
and study. The native preacher thus prepared is zealous to a degree, and
that he is ready to suffer incredible hardships and even torture, we
know from the romantic history of the Uganda Mission. He is willing and
able to carry his message further afield than the white man could ever
hope to do; he is, moreover, able to present his message through the
medium of a complete mastery of the native tongue. The results of this
form of propaganda are becoming almost startling. Christian evangelists
from one territory are meeting those of far distant regions and in this
manner the whole of the riverine systems of Central Africa are coming
rapidly under the influence of Christianity. It is in this respect,
rather than in tabulated statistics, that one sees the onward march of
the Christian Faith. The bush native no longer clings to and prides
himself in paganism; if he is not a Mohammedan, he will tell you he is a
Christian, even though his life and conduct would shut him out of the
formal communion of any Christian Church.
This condition of affairs may lead to a grave situation, for already
in several colonies the natives are restive under an inadequate white
control or leadership. Educated in the principles of liberty, but without
much respect for, or belief in, the nobler tenets of the Christian Faith,
they are breaking away from Christian government and forming themselves
into Christian communities in which personal desire is never allowed to
conflict with accepted standards of ethics. One day I visited a leading
“Christian” in a certain colony; he showed me round the district, took
me over his delightful little farm, pointed out his model dwellings,
machinery houses, and so forth; then I inspected a building with three
compartments and was informed that one section was used as a “gin store,”
the middle section for prayer meetings, and in the third the man kept his
wives! All this he boldly asserted could be justified by reference to
the Scriptures. I was not prepared to contest the assertion, because my
host claimed his own conscience as the final arbiter of interpretation.
The extent to which these secessions may go can be gathered from the fact
that one such seceding church in West Africa claims a membership of over
10,000 adults.
[Sidenote: THE LIGHT ETERNAL]
The missionary societies, unable to supply sufficient men to cope with
these vast areas, are forced to leave the movement almost alone and
thus it spreads, and will continue to spread, until Central Africa is
completely brought under the influence of a form of Christianity which
for many years will be a caricature of the religion of Christ. The only
hope, and happily a probable development, is that the religious wave,
which is now moving irresistibly across the central regions, will be
followed by an ethical wave which will give the “Light eternal” to the
Dark Continent.
PART V
I.—The Map of Africa re-arranged.
I
THE MAP OF AFRICA RE-ARRANGED
For some months past eminent publicists in Europe have been busily
engaged in rearranging the map of Africa in the interests first of one
Power, then of another, but the unfortunate native has found scant place
in these arguments. The only question which seems of any significance is
the “price” this or that Power will pay for a given slice of the African
continent. It would be rather interesting surely to know what the natives
themselves think of the proposed change. Some of them have strong views
upon the morality of disposing of other people’s rights, to say nothing
of treaty obligations which they obtained when agreeing to European
sovereignty.
Four territories are, so to speak, in the melting pot of political
speculation—British Gambia, French Congo, Belgian Congo, and the
Portuguese colonies of East and West Africa. None of the Powers in
control of these territories desire to add another foot of tropical
Africa to the burden they carry already. Great Britain has a full share
of responsibilities in the African continent. France, Belgium and
Portugal, even if they desired to enlarge their tropical dependencies,
have not yet established a case for expansion. Quite the reverse. One
Power alone—Germany—is not only capable but apparently desirous of adding
to her colonial possessions.
[Sidenote: BRITISH GAMBIA]
Though Great Britain may have no wish to add to her responsibilities,
her people cannot allow her to relegate any portion of them to another
Power. British Gambia must never be allowed to pass into the hands of
France, and the quicker the French Government is told this, the better,
not only for Anglo-French amity, but for the tranquillity and progress
of our oldest African colony. Thanks to our merchant adventurers and the
goodwill of the natives, Gambia was able to hold her own against the
Portuguese, French and Dutch, until the British Government assumed direct
control.
The British Government made a solemn agreement with the native tribes
for a Protectorate over the Gambia colony, and “this agreement shall
stand for ever.” The British Minister who sets that agreement aside
will be guilty of a crime against the fair fame of his country, but
more especially against the loyal natives who so implicitly trust the
unalterable promise of an Englishman.
The foregoing ethical argument cannot fail to find an echo in the breast
of every Britisher, but there are Imperial reasons which reinforce that
argument. The Gambia river possesses a draught of 30 feet right up the
river to a position of twenty miles beyond Bathurst, providing altogether
forty miles of deep waterway. I am told this is the only safe anchorage
for a British fleet in West Africa, safe, that is, from attack. This
little colony of 4000 square miles is contentedly following on in the
path of progress, its inhabitants are loyally and affectionately attached
to the British Crown. Only one thing troubles the population of Gambia
and that is the periodic rumours of a transfer to another Power. A
categorical and clear statement from a Minister of the Crown that no such
transference is contemplated or would be entertained is the least the
native has a right to expect, and the Empire to demand.
Next in order of discussion has been the question of Portuguese colonies,
and it has been mooted more than once that these should, either as a
whole or in part, be transferred by Portugal to Germany for a financial
consideration. The territories in question comprise Portuguese East and
West Africa together with the islands of the Gulf of Guinea; the area
of the mainland possessions being 778,000 square miles and that of the
islands 460 square miles, making a total area of 778,460 square miles.
No experienced Power would be prepared to purchase, even if Portugal
would be prepared to sell, a portion only of the Portuguese possessions,
because the several colonies properly managed dovetail into each others’
requirements in such a manner that a separation of either would in all
probability spell ruin to all. The richest of the colonies is that small
island of San Thomé, but it cannot maintain its financial prosperity
unless fed by labour from the mainland colonies of East and West Africa.
Then the Angola finances are nearly balanced by the financial position of
the cocoa islands.
Another argument is put forth, to the effect that the Portuguese
treatment of natives demands a transfer of the territory to some more
progressive Power, such as, for instance, Germany. Are those who advocate
this policy quite sure that the “Progressive Power” would treat the
natives better than the Portuguese? if so, where is the evidence? Does
East Africa provide it? Does the treatment of the Herreros and the
shooting of British Kaffirs demonstrate it? Those who support a transfer
on this ground should not lightly pass over these and similar incidents.
They can be absolutely certain of this one thing, that Germany would be
“progressive” enough to see to it that the cocoa plantations of San Thomé
had an abundant supply of labour—no matter what the consequences to such
a subordinate issue as labour conditions.
Then I am told that “in any case the condition of the natives as a whole
could not be so bad under Germany as under the Portuguese.” To this I
cannot agree, for though I admit that a number of colonial Portuguese are
slave traders, and that slavery is prevalent on the mainland and on the
islands, I must, in fairness to the Portuguese, point out first that the
Portuguese have a kindly nature to which one can appeal, and secondly
that signs are not wanting of an awakening of the conscience of the
Portuguese nation in a manner which may lead to a thorough cleansing of
the colonial possessions of the Republic. Thirdly, there is no colour-bar
in the Portuguese dominions.
To this argument I get the reply, “Public opinion in Germany would insist
on the abolition of existing slavery,” but this is an argument which
has no shred of foundation in fact; Germany is, in many respects, a
progressive Power, but she has no philanthropic soul for the well-being
of native races. A single word from Germany indicating a willingness to
co-operate with Great Britain during the Congo agitation would have saved
thousands, if not millions, of lives. That word was never spoken, the
Congo tribes were left to perish, and German public opinion maintained
a cynical attitude until the end. A merchant or two rendered yeoman
service, but they were as voices crying in the wilderness.
Let Portugal retain her colonies, and resolutely begin to purify their
administration and abolish slavery, but she must do it quickly if she is
to retain the goodwill of those—and they are still many—who would deplore
her disappearance from the map of Africa. She has said with an intensity
demanding appreciation that she will not dispose of her ancient colonies,
and this courageous reply evoked a warm response from all her colonists
who to a man are intensely patriotic, but if Portugal should refuse to
abolish slavery, she cannot expect that her most powerful Ally will be
allowed to maintain an Alliance valued to-day by many of us, yet viewed
with increasing uneasiness by a large section of the British Public. No
one wishes to utter a word which can be construed as a threat, but every
one knows that there are paths along which no British Foreign Minister
can lead, much less force the nation.
[Sidenote: BELGIAN CONGO]
Belgian Congo figures largely in every proposal for a rearrangement of
the map of Africa. It is claimed that Belgium has annexed more territory
than she can safely administer; certain it is that in annexing the
Congo she did not take over an ordinary colony. When Great Britain
assumed responsibility for her African colonies their virgin wealth was
practically untapped; the people inhabiting the colonies, as a whole,
welcomed the advent of her rule, and moreover Great Britain had in all
her territories, with the exception of Egypt, a free hand. To a greater
or less extent this applies to all African Powers, other than Belgium.
When Belgian annexation took place, the Congo was in every respect a
“squeezed orange”; not only so, but the administration of that territory
must remain subject to the paternal control of the European Powers. There
is another feature which should not be overlooked, and which may yet
cause difficulty. In the event of a general insurrection in French or
British colonies, or in the event of invasion, these Powers can at once
bring in an outside coloured army, which can, if necessary, be reinforced
with white troops. Belgium can do neither. Let any material section of
the native army revolt, which, by the way, is the ever present fear of
its officers, and the Europeans must run for their lives. They would
call in vain for troops from the Mother Country, for by the Belgian
Constitution the army may not be ordered abroad, and for other reasons
European forces could hardly be used in the Congo. With the unification
of language amongst the native troops which is rapidly taking place, with
the ever increasing spread of knowledge as to the use of arms, this peril
has been gravely accentuated within recent years.
Apart from these general—and some of them, remote—difficulties, there are
existing reasons for believing that the extensive Congo territories are
too heavy a responsibility for Belgium. The country is over eighty times
the size of Belgium, a proportion to the Mother Country not by any means
without parallel, but circumstances differ so widely that they remove
the question from all comparison with any other incident of colonial
expansion. The only countries which at all compare with the Congo are
Uganda and Southern Nigeria, but these have not suffered as the Congo has
done from thirty years of the maddest form of exploitation since Pizarro
plundered Peru.
Uganda is just about 100,000 square miles and the Imperial grant-in-aid
during the last ten years in direct administrative assistance (excluding
railway credits) is no less than £1,075,000, or an average annual
grant-in-aid of £107,500. This, it will be observed, is approximately an
annual grant-in-aid of a sovereign per square mile.
The Belgian Congo cannot be managed upon less than Uganda, therefore it
should require grants-in-aid from the Imperial Exchequer for the next
twenty years, of not less than £1,000,000 sterling per annum. To this,
however, must be added the exceptional demands from which no colony
escapes. The question, therefore, is this: Are the Belgians ready to
invest a sum of twenty to thirty millions sterling in the Congo during
the next twenty to twenty-five years?
The Congo is thirteen times the size of Southern Nigeria; and though the
density of the Congo population is considerably less, the tribes are much
more widely scattered, and therefore require almost the same measure of
white supervision, particularly in view of the direct taxation which
everywhere prevails. There is the further consideration that many of
the Belgian “officials” are to-day necessarily occupied with work which
in other colonies is rightly left to the merchant. In view of these
considerations a _pro rata_ white personnel would seem to be essential.
In Southern Nigeria Great Britain has from 800 to 1000 white men of
all grades engaged in its administration. Taking the lowest figure as a
basis, the Belgium Congo, with its 900,000 square miles of territory,
coupled with the varied enterprises of the administration, would
require over 10,400 men, but the colonial authorities find the greatest
difficulty in maintaining an official personnel of about 2000!
With a few notable exceptions, the type of official on the Congo
gives but little promise of any really effective and enlightened
administration. Can the Belgian Government find the men which the colony
requires? None can say actually what she may be able to do, although none
will deny that up to the present she has failed to find either the number
or the class of men vital to successful colonial government.
The question the Belgians would do well to ask themselves is—whether it
would not be wiser for them to administer a smaller colony properly than
to continue an attempt to govern a vast region like the Congo basin,
which, in the very nature of things, would be an enormous task even for
the most affluent European Power.
If Belgium could retain the Lower Congo, or a considerable portion of
it, and transfer almost the whole of the upper regions to another Power,
the indemnity she might expect to receive would, in such a case, permit
of the development of the Lower Congo in a manner which would absorb all
the activity that she could throw into it for generations. There are
great possibilities in the Lower Congo, possibilities unprejudiced by the
difficulties which obtain in the Upper Congo.
If the Belgians would agree to the disposal of the major part of
the Upper Congo, the problem which would then confront statesmen
would be that of finding another Power willing to assume so large a
responsibility. France has the reversionary right, but could not be
expected to add to her already too great African responsibilities.
Clearly Great Britain could not accept the burden in view of the lead
she took in the work of securing reforms. Portugal cannot effectively
administer the territories she already possesses. We are thus driven to
look to Germany.
[Sidenote: GERMANY AND BELGIAN CONGO]
It seems to be everywhere accepted that Germany would be willing to spend
men and money on the administration of a large tropical colony, but
again, is she prepared to accept the task of governing the Upper Congo?
A readiness to do so could hardly be other than welcome to the European
Powers, always providing that Belgium were willing to share her present
burden with Germany.
Such a transfer would not only unite the German colony of Cameroons
with the Congo colony, but also with German East Africa, thus giving to
Germany a great and uninterrupted trans-African colony larger than that
possessed by any European Power in Africa. But the fatal objection to
this re-arrangement is that there is no short and easy route to the sea
which would be essential to a German control of the Congo. Even if the
Matadi-Leopoldville railway territory were transferred, which would be
extremely unlikely, the German Government would know that it was only a
temporary route to the ocean.
Is it impossible for the Powers of Europe to take a truly large view of
the situation and by making an immediate sacrifice, which in point of
fact would be advantageous to each Power concerned, and thereby place
the peace of the world upon a lasting basis? Is it entirely out of the
question to persuade France for an adequate _quid pro quo_ to transfer
the major part of French Congo also to Germany?
France knows how she has been drawn into an almost impossible situation
in that wretched colony, she knows how difficult it is for her to cleanse
and administer it upon lines which are in accord with the obligations
imposed upon her by the Berlin Conference. If France and Belgium together
could be persuaded to transfer the whole, or the greater part, of French
and Belgian Congo to Germany, a comparatively quick route to the ocean
would be possible for the upper reaches of the Congo basin. If these two
Powers could be brought to agree to such a transfer to Germany, they
would individually be immeasurably the gainers, they would secure the
peace of the world, and they would thereby add a lustre to their names
which neither time nor eternity could tarnish.
Experience has shewn us that commerce need have no fear, for Germany
welcomes and treats fairly the commercial houses of all nations.
No favour is granted to a German firm which is prejudicial to the
representatives of other Powers, whereas to-day the notorious fact is
that merchants refuse to extend their commercial enterprises in French
and Belgian Congo owing to the restrictions and irritating dues and
charges which are imposed.
The remaining difficulty and the chief one is that of the treatment of
the natives. Doubtless if it were possible to consult them, they would
in both colonies vote for a transfer, not because they know anything
of German rule, but because they would hope that a change would not
involve them in a worse condition than they suffer at present. German
administration of French Congo certainly could hardly be more oppressive
than the French Government permits to-day. In Belgian Congo the natives
would probably be treated as humanely and probably more justly than at
present. Finally it is hoped that the German administration will, with
the march of time, become less rigorous in theory and more humane in
practice. On the whole, both from the commercial and native standpoint,
the Congo basin stands to gain by a transfer to the German Empire.
[Sidenote: PEACE IN THE WORLD]
This transfer, joining as it would the Cameroons with German East Africa,
would provide Germany with a single African colony of something over
two million square miles in extent; occupied by a population of from
twenty-five to thirty millions of people. A fertile colony larger than
our Indian Empire, and approximately the same square mileage as the total
possessions of Great Britain in the African continent.
The paramount question is, of course, what _quid pro quo_ could Germany
give in return for a re-arrangement of the African continent which would
provide her with so vast a domain? Belgium would probably be willing to
accept a cash indemnity with the retention of such portion of the Congo
territory as she could safely and effectively administer. France is the
only difficulty; but if France chose to be generous enough to part with
French Congo, might not such a spirit find an echo across the Rhine? To
put this into plain language, would not this vast colonial expansion
thus placed in the hands of Germany be worth a rectification of the
frontier of Alsace-Lorraine—or at least the gift of autonomy?
Such a solution of a great African problem would give a ray of light and
hope to the darkest regions of the “Dark Continent,” whilst in Europe it
would settle for generations the peace of the world; surely a fitting
monument to erect to the memory of the martyred millions of the Congo!
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES
[1] _Parl. Paper Egypt_, No. 1 of 1904, p. 79.
[2] Stanley estimated the whole of the Congo population at 40,000,000.
[3] There can, I can conceive, be little doubt that colour prejudice
is a much greater obstacle to social intercourse in the case of the
Teutonic—certainly in that of the Anglo-Saxon—races than it is in the
case of Latin Europeans. Mr. Bryce (_American Commonwealth_, Vol. II., p.
355) says: “In Latin America, whoever is not black is white; in Teutonic
America, whoever is not white is black.”
[4] In the early days of the Soudan occupation it was thought by many
that it would be impossible to abolish slavery, and that the employment
of forced labour was imperative. As a matter of fact, by the display
of a little patience, and without the adoption of any very heroic or
sensational measures, slavery has been abolished, no forced labour has
been employed, and the country is prospering.
[5] See also pp. 94, 95.
[6] A good deal, I conceive, depends on the number of old officials whose
services are retained, and on the degree of influence they are allowed to
exert. I speak under correction, but I can well imagine that the abrupt
dismissal of all the experienced administrators, however unsatisfactory
they may be in some respects, and the wholesale substitution of
well-intentioned, but wholly inexperienced men in their place, might
produce inconveniences even more serious than a certain prolongation of
abuses in a mitigated and diminished form.
[7] That this is the main defect of the Congo system has been frequently
pointed out both by myself—in a speech in the House of Lords on February
24, 1908—and others.
[8] Secretary of the Eighty Club.
[9] Italics mine.—J. H. H.
[10] Italics mine.—J. H. H.
INDEX
A
Abeokuta, 101, 283
Absinthe and natives, 99
Aburi, 254, 261
Accra, 256
African, artisan, the, 109;
doctor, the, 110, 120;
educated, the, 108
Anglo-Portuguese Alliance, 174, 201
Angola, 169
Anklets, brass, 34
“Anti-Slavery Society,” Portuguese, 138
Ants, driver, 18
B
Baketi tribe, the, 24
Bakuba ” the, 29, 40
Bakwala ” the, 39
Bakwiri ” the, 252
Baluba ” the, 27
Bangalla ” the, 27
Bangalla River, 26
Baptist Mission, the, 269
Barrel rolling, 256
Barrister, native, the, 51
Basamba custom, 144, 145
Basel Mission, the, 47, 252, 269, 285
Bashilele tribe, the, 29
Basongo, 180
Batanga, 32
Batanga canoes, 13
Batetela tribe, the, 27, 178, 198
Bathurst, 294
Belgian Congo, the, 203
Belgian Congo, commerce in, 92, 154
Bell, Rev. J., 281
Benguella, 172
Benin Rubber Plantations, 242
Bennett, E. N., 96
Bihean Slave Traders, 197
Blaize, Richard, 283
Bocage, M. Du, 187
Boela tribe, the, 33
Boma, 170
Bopoto, 26
Bridewells, 176
Brine bath, the, 231
British and Foreign Bible Society the, 283
“Bula Matadi,” 152
Burial customs, 25
Burroughs Wellcome and Company, 81, 83
Burtt, Joseph, 186
Bushongo tribe, the, 28
C
Cadbury—_Standard_ Trial, the, 186
Calabar Missions, 280
Cameroons cocoa, 248, 251
Camwood production, 33
Canoes, dug-out, 12
Cape Railway, the, 171
_Capital A, The_, 195
Carrier, the, 4, 151
Carson, Sir Edward, 186
Castelin, Father, 207
Catholic missionaries, Roman, 265
Chapel farms, 250
Charms, 37
Chevalier, Dr., 237, 239, 241
Chinese Labour, 135
Christiansborg, 253, 280
Christy, Dr., 242
Church Missionary Society, 269
Cicatrization, 26, 28
Cicatrization, object of, 30
Cocoa, Butter, 246
Cocoa, Gold Coast, 4, 161, 247, 253
Cocoa, Nigerian, 257
Cocoa, Portuguese, 249
Cocktails, 75
Cogill, Mr., 139
Cold storage, 85
Collars, brass, 34
Commissioners, Assistant District, 96
Congo, Belgian annexation, 209, 215, 220;
assets, 210;
cocoa, 217, 250;
cotton, 216;
railway, 211;
rubber, 213, 216, 237, 243
Convict leasing, 166
Correctional labour, 166
Cotton growing, 57
Cotton, price of, 57
Cromer, the Earl of, 144
Cursing, fear of, 36
D
Dagomba tribe, the, 69
Daysman, the, 42
Death customs, 36, 37
Dennett, Mr. R. E., 143
Dilolo, Lake, 184, 197
Docemo, King, 159, 167
Dualla tribe, the, 252
Du Chaillu, Dr., 36
Dunstan, Professor W., 226
E
Educational grants, 112
Egyptians, 225
Elder Dempster and Company, Messrs., 84
Eleko, Prince, 167
Eloesis Guineensis, 225
F
Fernando Po, 263, 281
Fiji, labour contracts in, 141
Flogging, 127, 181
G
Gambia, the, 293
German colonies and commerce, 88, 90, 302
German Cameroons, 301, 303
German East Africa, 301, 303
Gin “banked,” 101
Gold Coast cocoa, 217
Gold Coast rubber, 242
Grants-in-aid, 299
Grenada, 261
Grey, Sir Edward, 40, 187, 189, 191, 196, 201
Gum copal, 214
H
Hairdressing, native, 32
Hamburg merchants, 225
Harding, Colonel Colin, 197
Hardinge, Sir Arthur, 187, 189, 196
Hausa carriers, 255
Hawkin, Mr. R. C., 135
Hawkins, Jack, 175
Hay, Mr. Drummond, 189, 193, 198
Herreros, the, 252, 296
Holt & Co., Messrs. John, 81, 93
Holt _v._ Rex, 159
Hospitality, native, 106
Hostages, rubber, 206
Hostage system, Congo, 206
“Hot Pot,” native, 233
I
India Office, the, 135, 137
Indians, Pincon’s Brazilian, 235
“Ingleza,” the, 279
J
Janssens, Monsieur, 277
Johnston, Sir Harry, 132
Jones, the late Sir Alfred, 81
Justice, British, 117
K
Kalamba, 180
Kid, the sacrificial, 24
Koran, 268
Kroo boys, 93
Kumasi, 253, 257, 269
L
Labour, contract, 139, 140;
recruiting, 141, 163;
recruiting, official, 142;
forced, 149
Lactation, period of, 68;
prolonged, 68
“Lady of our Salvation,” the, 171
Lagos island, 41, 120, 260
Land tenure, 157
Land war, 158
“Lazy Nigger,” the, 126
Leopold, King, 67, 205, 208, 219, 220, 273, 278
Liberian labour supply, 131
Liquor Traffic and Native Races Committee, 98
Livingstone, David, 269, 272
Loanda, 170, 172
Lobito Bay, 171
Lokele war, 158
Lome, 89, 275
Luebo, 180
Lulua tribe, the, 28
Lunda country, 169, 240
Lunda slave traffic, 188
Lusambo, 184
M
Macintosh, Charles, 235
Mackie, Mr. Consul, 187, 191, 241
Maloney, Sir A., 236
“Mammies,” The, 123
Manioca, preparation of, 52, 158
Mayumbe, 28, 217, 251, 253, 263
Medical missions, 277
Mendes, Dr. Correa, 181, 191
Missionary statistics, 283
Mobeka, 204
Mohammedanism, 268
Money lending, 35
Mongo tribe, the, 34
Monkey calls, 8
Mortality statistics, 78
Motherhood, 68
N
Negrophobia, 107
Neves Hermano, 195
Nevinson, H. W., 175
Nigeria, Christianity in, 268
Nigeria, cocoa cultivation, 257
Nightingale, Mr. Consul, 186
Ngombe, the tribe of, 32
Novo Redondo, 178
O
Oil palm, the, 227, 234
Oil rivers, 69, 90
Ogowé, the, 85
Orator, the African, 42
P
Paddler, the, 10
“Palaver” described, 41
Palm cabbage, 226, 232
“Palm oil chop,” 54
Palm wine, 103, 226, 234
Peace and arbitration, African, 40
Pico da San Thomé, 248
Polygamy, 59
Polygamy and Christianity, 61, 67
Polygamy, obligatory, 59
Polygamy and the birth rate, 63, 65
Portuguese Republic, 162
Principe, island of, 82
Prister, Professor, 175
Prohibition, difficulty of, 102
Protestant missions, 265
R
Race prejudice, 169
_Reforma_, the Portuguese, 194
Renkin, Monsieur, 207, 216
Repatriation fund, 192;
problem of, 199
Rio del Rey, 85
Rouge, native, 33
Rubber, discovery of, 235, 237;
Funtumia, 237;
Hevea Braziliensis, 244;
Ireh, 236;
Landolphia, 237;
Manihot Glaziovii, 244
S
San Thomé cocoa, 247, 264
Schindler, F., 197
Sherboro, Bai, 117
Sheridan, 42
Slave capture, 147
Slavery, domestic, 142, 144, 175
Slavery in French Guinea, 147
Slavery, Portuguese, 161, 262, 266, 271
Sleeping sickness, 132;
Uganda, 132;
Principe, 132, 181
Stanley, Sir H. M., 208, 236, 272
Strachey, J. St. Loe, 202
Swastika cicatrice, 28
T
Termites, 20, 261
Togoland, 88;
taxation, 153;
cocoa, 248;
transport in, 90
Trader, the African, 49
Trinidad cocoa, 262
Tudhope, Mr., 252
Twin customs, 69
Twin murder, 70
U
Uganda grant-in-aid, 299
Uganda mission, 287
Uncle Remus in Africa, 24
V
Vasconcellos, Senhor, 196
Venezuela, 260
Victoria, 79, 230
Villiers, Sir Francis Hyde, 193
W
Wages, native, 46
“White Cap” chiefs, the, 159
Williams, Robert, 91, 171
Wilhelmsthal, incident of the, 136
Wright, Herbert, 244
Wuta the Conqueror, 27
THE END
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