[NOTE: Because of the time in which the book was written, it contains some outwardly racist, ethnocentric material. I am posting the book here not only because Hugh was my third great-grandfather, but also because it contains both historical and anthropological data.]

         [PAGE 109] I HAD knocked my leg against the boat, at the capsize off Appolonia, and the wound ulcerated. The climate is a very bad one for ulcers. We found much more trouble from this than from fever. Captain Nelson was good enough to take me on board the Druid for a change. In a fortnight I was well again.

         The Druid’s officers amused themselves by butterfly hunting, and had made some good collections.

         The Bittern and Coquette arrived, and there were some cricket matches, and no one was the worse for playing in the hot sun.

         The first day I was able to land we found the town in a state of commotion. Drums were beating and processions marching. We were told the companies were electing new Captains. The towns on the Gold Coast are divided into companies. At Cape Coast there are twelve; at Elmina, ten; at Accra, ten; at Axim, two; and so on. The companies generally have district occupations, as fishermen, surf-boatmen, labourers and their families, etc. Calling at Dr. Rowe’s house he told us he had just been visited by an [PAGE 110] unprotected female, a native lady, who called on him to pretect her from a mob which filled his courtyard. Without asking questions, the Doctor took down his whip, and in a few seconds the rabble had disappeared. The lady then explained to him that it was her company who wished to make her Captain; an honour she declined to accept, and they had endeavoured to force it upon her; and to carry her through the town on men’s shoulders. The lady was the daughter of the late Captain who had died a few months ago without sons. In such cases the daughters often succeed them, especially if they have money, but this lady said as she had two elder sisters in the town the company had no business to elect her. The greatest objection she offered to the proposed honour was, that it would be so expensive: as she would be expected to sit in state and provide gin for all who were presented to her. Besides, she said she was going to marry a man in No. 3 company, and wished to say good-bye to No. 2 altogether! We heard a story explaining why fishermen will not fish on Tuesday. I had thought that it was for some religious reason, but Mrs. Barnes told us that there is a tradition at Cape Coast that a fisherman once caught a mermaid on a Tuesday, and since then the day has been “fetish” to them, and they dare not put hook or net in the water on that day lest a similar evil befall them.

         The master of a Danish brig was drowned at [PAGE 111] Annamaboe, landing in a surf boat, and close to the shore. It is supposed sharks took him, for the surf was not bad, and the kroomen lost sight of him very quickly. Although men are often in the water on the coast, I did not hear of any other accidents from sharks. I think large sharks like less troubled waters, and that the best feeding grounds for them are near the mouths of rivers. Lagos has such a bad repute for the number and voracity of sharks on the bar, that some kroomen will not engage as boatmen to factors there at all; and they always make the fact of the danger of their lives from sharks if capsized, a plea for claiming higher wages. The largest sharks we saw were off St. Paul’s de Loanda.

         We left Cape Coast on the 9th September [1872] for what is called the “South Coast,” that is the southern division of the West African Station. Its limits are between Cape Lopez and the 20th parallel of south latitude.

         It has always been considered the best part of the station, as being healthier, having better harbours, a better climate and better markets than in the “Bights.” The “Bights” division extends from Cape Lopez to Cape Palmas, and derives its name from the Bights of Benin and Biafra, which are included within its limits.

         We enjoyed most lovely sailing between Jellah Coffee and Kabenda. Our course took us close to the island of St. Thomas, a Portuguese possession of some [PAGE 112] importance. It produces excellent coffee and cocoa. We passed at about three miles from the town, which appeared of considerable size, with one or two large forts to protect it. The island rises to about 8000 feet in height, and on its south-western side shows some curious formations. One natural pillar rises from the hill side like a great factory chimney. At Prince’s Island, a few miles north of St. Thomas are similar protuberances which look like bullock horns.

         We found Kabenda looking very different to what it was in April. The trees were without leaves, and the long grass burnt up into very dry hay by the long drought. The fields were clear of crops, but the fruit was ripe and we got excellent mangoes, guavas, bananas and limes. The paths were much more pleasant to walk upon, and at Kabenda there are paths in many directions. However, the rains had just set in, so we went away to the south as soon as the business I had to do would allow. I made a short call at the Congo, and on the 26th September [1872] anchored off Ambrizette. At Sharks point King Peter was very pressing for a “dash,” as the Burial ground was in such good order. I pointed out to him I had nothing with me in the boat to “dash” him, and that he must wait until I came again, when he replied “Give me shilling for buy chop!” “Chop” is African for something to eat.

         At Ambrizette were five British, one Dutch, and one French factory. Our countrymen were very glad to [PAGE 113] see us, and most pressing for us to remain. They took us over their stores, and showed us some large tusks of ivory. They valued it at about 4s.6d. a lb. On the spot and at 8s. in England. The largest in store weighed 8-lbs., and was 6 feet in length. The merchants had purchased tusks weighing 150-lbs., and had heard of a pair weighing 187-lbs. And 189-lbs, respectively. The tusks were black outside, but the black scale is very thin. Legitimate trade had only existed at Ambrizette for five years. Previously it had only exported slaves. The exporters were Portuguese, but the importers of goods were British, Dutch, and French. The sold goods to the Portuguese, and the Portuguese purchased slaves with the goods. The slaves used to carry a little ivory with them from the interior, but it was a very small quantity compared with what comes down now.

         The European goods I saw in the stores consisted of cotton cloths of a flimsy quality, and handkerchiefs; guns and pistols, with flint locks of course; gunpowder; brass and copper rods; brass rings for women’s ankle ornaments; glass beads, knives, padlocks, and a lot of trash.

         I was told that some old French and German uniforms had been well disposed of. The traders kept some small articles “for top” which always closes a bargain.

         These were snuff boxes, looking glasses, and toys. [PAGE 114] “Jack in the box” was said to be the most popular. But I have omitted to state that the trade article most in demand was spirits. Rum and gin were equally bad, and equally profitable. In return, the merchants obtained besides ivory, pea nuts, gum copal, wax, and a little India rubber. I obtained some good specimens of malachite recently brought in from a village close to.

         The following afternoon we reached St. Paul’s de Loanda, the capital of the Portuguese province of Angola, and the residence of the Governor-General. The port is formed by a sand bank which runs parallel to the coast for many miles, having deep water at its eastern entrance between the bank and the main land, which are from one to two miles distant from each other. When St. Paul’s is reached the harbour gets suddenly shallow and vessels have to anchor two miles below the town, but in perfect security. The bank mentioned rises a few feet above water, and palms and bushes grow on it. The Government dockyard is built on that side and several neat villas belonging to the aristocracy of St. Paul’s. The main land consisted of steep red cliffs, looking very bare of vegetation at this time. The city is built partly at the foot and partly on the top of this cliff. The buildings are of stone or brick, the streets are wide and macadamized, with paved side paths in some places. There are several churches, barracks, and large public buildings. The [PAGE 115] Governor-General’s palace is on the high ground, and occupies a large amount of space. It is most comfortably furnished, and His Excellency frequently opened his ball room doors for entertainments. An excellent band played in front of the palace every evening. The attendance at its performance was never large during our stay.

         I saw several neat carriages drawn by horses or mules; but the ordinary cab of St. Paul’s is the Maxina - pronounced Mashena - which is a kind of palanquin, carried by two negroes. The seat is very low. It consists of a frame with cane work, and an arm and back to lean against, with an awning overhead and curtains to draw at option on either side. White men or half-castes never seemed to go ten paces except in one of these things.

         The shops were very good, but their articles exorbitantly dear. Market produce was dear on account of a civil war then proceeding in the interior. The position of affairs at St. Paul’s had been very critical a few months previously. The city is entirely supplied with drinking water from a river seven miles distant. The natives for a short time got possession of it. If they could have held it the consequences would have been fearful.

         As it was there was great distress among the poor of Loanda. Marrioc and beans, their staple food, were [PAGE 116] at four times their usual price. Bread was 8 1/2d. a lb. And beef 7d., which is double what it used to be. In the shops we paid 3s. 6d. a lb. For butter and 2s. 6d. a lb. for bacon.

         The province produces excellent coffee, and there is a large trade in it to Europe. The river Coanza enters the sea about 100 miles from St. Paul’s, to the southward. In the dry season the bar of this river becomes impassable, at times drying right across. In the rainy season there is water enough for small steamers to cross, and they ascend the river for more than 100 miles. I am told that this Coanza country is one of the most lovely and fertile in Africa. The Portuguese, however, have not turned it to account as they might have, the natives hate them, and they hate the natives. Loanda is a penal colony. The convicts are given a ticket-of-leave, after they have served a certain time in the local army, and few of them return to Portugal. I saw some of these troops marching in from the Coanza. They were decently clothed in a brown uniform, but badly armed with different pattern muskets; and I noticed one man had no lock on his. Angola has to support itself; and its treasury is not always full, so I suppose there has been a difficulty in providing arms for soldiers, the mother country so plentifully supplies! The Governor told us he had ordered 1500 Martini-Henry rifles, to enable the troops to put down the present war.

         [PAGE 117] Mr. Hartley, our vice-consul, had been 14 years in Africa. He had been for a considerable time in the distant interior, elephant hunting. He was sometimes two years without seeing a white man, or speaking a word of English. He spoke highly of the treatment he received from the natives. The Hottentots were the only people he had trouble with, and he narrowly escaped with his life from their hands.

         There were three English ladies in St. Paul’s! Of course there are many Portuguese, and still more of Creole ladies.

         The city is called healthy, but it is liable to epidemics. Fevers and small-pox create ravages among natives and Europeans. I observed some drainage works in progress and imagine they were wanted.

         An English steamer calls here once a month. She calls all along the coast on her outward voyage, turns round at St. Paul’s and returns the same way. A Portuguese steamer sails once a month for Lisbon, viậ St. Thomas, Princes, and St. Vincent (Cape Verdes).

         A differential system of duties excludes all foreign ships from any share in the carrying trade from this province. The venality of officials, especially those connected with the Customs is openly spoken of. The hindrance to trade by the formalities and absurd regulations, all to be avoided by paying a small bribe to someone, is greatly complained of. Labour was getting much more expensive. Slavery in every shape was [PAGE 118] being gradually abolished, and I heard many doubts expressed whether the Portuguese would retain Angola for many years.

         We arrived at Elephant Bay, a place in the Portuguese territory in latitude 14º south, longitude 12° east, on the 8th of October [1872], for the purpose of refitting the ship. It is on the northern edge of the rainless region of South Africa. Rain does not fall there for sometimes three or four years, and consequently there is very little verdure, but the wide and deep water courses, the serated [sic] appearance of the hills, and the mass of debris in the valleys, show that when the rain does come there is plenty of it.

         Elephant Bay is perfectly sheltered from the prevailing wind which is from the south. It is situated at the north side of an extensive valley, which is surrounded by hills varying in height from 800 to 1500 feet. In the water courses are clumps of thorny bushes on which the antelopes and zebras feed, and there is a spring of brackish water near the beach to which they resort for drink.

         No inhabitants reside nearer than at Equamina, which was four miles from our anchorage by sea, and twice that distance by land. At Equamina is a large farm for growing sugar cane from the juice of which a large quantity of aquadiente is distilled.

         The valley runs back for some miles, affording good hard level walking ground. Everywhere it was [PAGE 119] marked with tracks of the zebras, which come to drink at the springs, but we never saw any of them, although some of the officers lay out at night near the springs, and set traps for them.

         Antelopes, gazelles, and jackals were seen, but were all very shy and difficult to approach. We were told that lions came down occasionally, after rain, but as a rule they were not met within fifty miles of the place.

         We landed the men under tents, and cleared the ship out, to get clear of the cockroaches which had begun to get large in size and very numerous. The men enjoyed the fun extremely. In the evening they played cricket or rounders; or else went fishing with the seine. The quantity of fish in the bay is marvellous. One draw of the net was generally sufficient for the whole crew, and occasionally there were many more than required. The fish consisted chiefly of mullet and bream, but now and then there were some very large species.

         Sperm whales were constantly in the bay, and would come close round the ship at times. American vessels come to this coast to fish for them.

         On the hill side to the west of us were the names of the men-of-war that had visited the bay, marked in whitewash. Some of the letters are more than 50 feet long, and they can be seen at a great distance. As some of them had been done for years, not much rain could have fallen during that period. We remained here [PAGE 120] until the 28th October [1872] and enjoyed our visit very much.

         We found Senhor [sic] Pina and his wife always delighted to see us when we went to Equamina. They literally turned their house inside out to entertain us. Equamina valley is separated from Elephant bay by a steep spur of mountain land that juts into the sea, over which it was a stiff climb. By taking advantage of the alternate land and sea breezes the passage is a pleasant one in a boat, but the beach is not protected from the ocean swell as at Elephant bay, and the landing is not good. Senhor [sic] Pina’s plantation and house are close to the beach. The latter is a one-storied building of four or five rooms, in connection with the farm buildings. It was plain enough, but comfortable, and the Senhora [sic] had managed to transport a grand piano to this outlandish spot. The farm consisted of about 200 acres under sugar cane, and a large garden containing vegetables and fruit trees. There was also enough grass to feed a small herd of cattle, and flocks of sheep and goats managed to thrive on the wild bush.

         The farm is artificially irrigated. Water is found all over this valley at a few feet from the surface, but this is, as a rule, slightly brackish, although there are wells of excellent drinking water. The labourers were slaves: 200 were employed, men and women. They seem very happy, living in native houses by themselves, each family having a piece of ground to grow vegetables on, and they had two free days a week [PAGE 121] - Saturday and Sunday - when they could fish or do what they liked. Besides, they had a regular daily ration of beans, fish, and aquadiente. This latter stimulant they will drink as much of as they can get, the women as well as the men. On Sunday they have a double ration. It is a very strong spirit, but not strong enough for them, and we were told they were in the habit of mixing chillies with the raw aquadiente to make it “bite” harder. They appeared to be kept strictly to task, and I am afraid Lynch law was the common one of the land.

         On account of the vegetation, this valley is much more frequented by game than Elephant bay. Our first report of it was that it teemed with game. One of our officers shot a large Koodoo [kudu, a large antelope], which produced 600 lbs. of meat. Excellent meat it was too. We saw a fair number of these animals, but found them most difficult to stalk even with the assistance of native trackers. The ground was covered with clumps of trees, between which were wide spaces to walk on, on which the fresh footprints could easily be seen. The Koodoos ran at great speed and made for the hills immediately they were alarmed. At a distance they looked like red deer.

         Early one morning we met a large number of Baboons, who howled hideously as they fled up the rocks, the old ones carrying the young on their backs.

         Senhor [sic] Pina supplied us with good beef, mutton, [PAGE 122] and vegetables during our stay, and now and then a little fruit. He grows a few grapes but they were not in season.

         At times he has apples and pears, peaches and olives, besides mangoes, oranges, limes, and bananas.

         The cabbages attain a very large size, and potatoes are sometimes grown.

         There is a distillery on the premises, for producing the aquadiente. None of the cane juice is made into sugar, as spirit making pays best.

         The Senhor [sic] also salted a large quantity of fish for the St. Paul’s market, and he manufactured bricks and tiles, and burnt lime for the same purpose.

         The dinner at which we were entertained, introduced us to some novel dishes. It consisted of cabbage soup, boiled veal, bacon and vegetables cut up together; a chicken pie; a savoury stew of kid, with plenty of garlic; a kind of beef olive - more garlic; patties of salt meat, with sugar; cuttle fish stewed in wine; a stuffed fish, baked; roast veal and fried potatoes; boiled potatoes; cheese made of goats’ milk; olives; jellies; open tarts, and a kind of custard pudding which nearly did for me, after tasting some of the strange and unaccustomed dishes my curiosity led me to ascertain the nature of. The only part of the banquet I can pronounce an entire failure was, the boiled potatoes, and the Senhora [sic] told us that neither she nor her servants could succeed in boiling them so that they should be [PAGE 123] eatable. I never knew that there was so much of an art in boiling potatoes before. But there is: our cook sent the same kind of potatoes to table like balls of flour. We were waited upon by five women servants. each with a baby clinging to its mother’s back.

         Senhora [sic] had a half-caste lady residing with her, as a companion, and a pet slave child was allowed to play about the sitting room. There were two or three white men on the plantation besides Senhor [sic] Pina.

         Before we left, our friends paid us a visit on board the Torch, and they were I dare say, as much astonished at an English dinner, as we had been at a Portuguese one. Mustard and plum pudding they did not at all like, but they were in raptures with our potatoes.

         On the 30th October [1872] we arrived at Benguela which is 100 miles North of Elephant Bay. It is a convict station. The houses are all low, the streets wide and clean, but there is little business doing. There were a great many natives from the interior in the town; a low type of mankind - dirty and ugly. One man wore his hair plaited into a pig tail with a bell at the end of it.

         They had bows, arrows, spears, and native axes, Knobberies and ornaments to sell, and would take English money. Small boys brought us beautiful little birds in wicker cages, and warranted songsters called “Benguelenas,” which have a note like a canary’s. We saw a few good leopard skins but they were very dear.

         [PAGE 124] There is a good market and a few fair shops in the town. The country around looked barren, but rain was expected, and after it came the ground would be very productive. Good cattle are reared.

         The white convicts work on the public works without chains, and after a very short residence, become soldiers, convict guards, or are allowed to settle as tradesmen or shopkeepers, or hire themselves to planters as overseers. They are an ill-looking set. The black convicts were chained together in gangs of half-a-dozen. They had an iron ring round their necks, and a chain shackled to it by which they were fastened to each other. The overseer, a “degredado,” or ex-convict, over each batch of six, was armed with a strong cane. The men carried baskets of stone, mortar or rubbish on their heads. Some of them wore leg irons as an additional punishment. A few of the Negro convicts are conditionally at large. They must be inside the fort between 8 p.m. and 6 a.m.

         As I was returning from the Governor’s house to my boat, I was accosted by one of these convicts at large. He made a statement to me which I will repeat in full, as it tells its own story. It was made by oath, before me, on the 30th October, 1872.

         “I, Joseph Hardy, was born at Sierra Leone in 1843. My parents were Liberians, and live now at Cape Palmas. I lived at Sierra Leone for two years after I was born, and subsequently for six years [PAGE 125] working for Mr. George Hedley. I shipped as a sailor on board the Albatross, of Liverpool, in 1865, and went to Gaboon, where I was discharged, and served with a trading master (factor) for three years, and afterwards at Brooklyn, Camma, for two years; I then returned to Gaboon and shipped in an Italian barque bound for Loanda. I was discharged there with three others, without wages, because we claimed to be sent to Gaboon, as the Captain had promised, but he wished us to go to Brazil. I complained to a Custom House officer, but he said he could do nothing for me. As one of our number was an American we went to the American consul, but he said, as we had no written agreement with the Captain he could not help us.

         I could not obtain employment at Loanda, and I sold my kit to support myself. I slept on the beach. I had only 3s. 6d. left, when, as I was walking along the streets a policeman came and searched me all over, took my money, and told me to go away. I asked him to give me the money back, when he took me to prison. I was perfectly sober at the time. I was taken before him, and by him sent to the Governor’s office, where some papers were written and I was sent to the fort. A chain was put around my neck and I was fastened to other prisoners. I remained there three months at hard labour.

         As I did not understand Portuguese, I did not [PAGE 126] know what was said; but after this I learnt enough to make my wants known. I asked permission to work outside. I told them I could do cooper’s work, but the Governor ordered me to be sent to Benguella where I arrived on the 10th December, 1870. The chain was taken off my neck, previous to leaving Loanda. At Benguella I was paid 6d. a day for my work, but was obliged to find my own food and clothing, and to sleep in the fort. I was obliged to be in the fort at 8 p.m., and was locked up until 6 a.m. the next day. I worked from 6 a.m. until 6 p.m. except for 2 hours in the middle of the day. I did not wear any chains, but was kept a prisoner. I was flogged 5 or 6 times over the back with a thick stick, receiving 50 strokes each time, and my back shows the marks. I was flogged over the hands several times. This was before I understood the ways of the place, and to make myself understood by them; latterly, they have treated me well. I have within the last 8 months forwarded three petitions to the Governor of Loanda, through the Government of Benguella, but have received no reply. I stated I had committed no crime and asked to be allowed to return to my country.”

                   Signed, JOSEPH HARDY

         I immediately turned back to the Governor’s house, taking Hardy with me. I told His Excellency the story that I had heard, and that although it appeared to me the man was a Liberian, and not a British [PAGE 127] subject, still his case was a very hard one, if true. I expressed my readiness to take the man on board the Torch, if he was allowed to leave at once: if he was not, I should consider it my duty to represent the case to the Authorities at Loanda. The Governor after examining the office records said he could find no reason for detaining Hardy, if I would take him. He was sent to Benguella, he said, because he had been found as a vagrant at St. Paul’s, so without passing any forms whatever, Hardy was handed over to me, and expressing my thanks, I took him on board the Torch and entered him as a Krooman. He was a superior style of man to what Kroomen are generally. Spoke grammatical English, could write, and was a fair sailor and cooper. On further enquiry at St. Paul’s I found his story to be substantially true. It is not unlikely that he touched it up with a little colour, but it is a fact that the man had been 22 months in prison, for some time in chains, and had been flogged (for the marks were visible), for no greater crime than vagrancy.

         While on this subject may I mention, that having at one time gained possession of a native who had robbed one of our merchants at a trading station near the Congo, I conferred with the merchant as to the manner of punishing the thief. He replied “Oh! give him to me, I’ll flog him and then get the Governor of Loanda to pack him off to St. Thomas for life.” The place where the merchant resided was at some [PAGE 128] distance from the Portuguese province. A planter, Portuguese, also told me he punished his labourers by riveting their hands together and sending them to Benguella, with a note to the Governor to request that the culprit might be properly flogged!

         I mentioned these anecdotes to show the manner in which justice is administered in Africa by the Portuguese.

         While at Benguella several natives spoke to us in English. They had been slaves released by our men-of-war, and landed at St. Helena, where they learnt our language.

         We arrived at St. Paul’s again on the 2nd November [1872]. Rain had fallen, and the drooping trees that shaded the streets lifted up their heads. Some acacias were one mass of lovely scarlet bloom.

         The civil war was over for the season! The rains had obliged the Portuguese to retire from the open country. These ex-convicts don’t see the fun of fighting - even a “nigger.” Food was at such a price that slaves were to be had for the asking, and without doubt it went hard with the old and infirm.

         We stayed only a few hours at St. Paul’s and sailed for Kinsembo, where we anchored at 1 p.m. the next day. The English factories, five or six in number, are built on a red bluff close to the sea - a very healthy situation. It is only a few miles north of Ambriz, the Portuguese frontier town. Its business is principally [PAGE 129] in ivory, and in selling European goods to Portuguese, who smuggle them into Angola. Two large caravans of ivory had just come down from the interior and there was considerable excitement, as trade goods enough to purchase were not in stock. The clerks in charge of factories, here as elsewhere, appeared very young, but full of zeal. I could only stay a few hours, but the country is very pretty, no thick jungle, but undulating prairie land interspersed with trees. High land in the back ground. Cattle do well, and a good beast can always be obtained for £4 or £5.

         The next morning we reached Ambrizette. The factories raised a great display of bunting in our honour.

         As another instance of Coast justice, I relate a circumstance brought to my notice here.

         Some of our young factors played a practical joke on a Portuguese clerk. He took it into his head that he had discovered the perpetrator, he seized a sword and made a murderous attack upon Mr. Moffat, whom he seriously wounded in the head. A German gentleman interfered, and was wounded in the hand. Another gentleman disarmed the Portuguese and quieted him. Mr. Moffat demanded an apology and £50 damages from the Portuguese, who immediately appealed to the Native Queen of Ambrizette for protection, and it was said offered her all the goods in his store, if she would save his life. The Queen, at any rate, sent a body of men [PAGE 130] who removed the Portuguese, and the store was claimed by another merchant as having been bought by him. Mr. Moffat then seized a surf boat, which belonged to his assailant, and kept it.

         This is the kind of manner in which disputes are obliged to be settled in a country where there is a large trade, but no constituted authority to enforce law. As for native law it is open for purchase to the highest bidder.

         I went over the factories here again. One merchant showed me 31 large elephants’ tusks, the trade of the two previous days. This gentleman told me his average sale of rum was a pipe - over 100 gallons - a day. He has seen a native drink a pint of this stuff, raw, without taking his lips from the bottle. I saw a native leave this store wearing a scarlet tunic with yellow facings, and the number “17” on the shoulder strap.

         The gunpowder is kept in small white-washed magazines at some distance from the factories. I noticed they were locked with “puzzle padlocks,” those which require a certain number of letters to be brought in line before they will open. My informant told me that these padlocks were the only ones that the natives could not pick.

         I heard the particulars of a case of piracy which had occurred on this Coast a few months previously, and I received directions from England to endeavour to [PAGE 131] bring the offenders to justice. They were most likely living near Kabenda.

         On the 7th I returned to the Congo. I had asked the merchants to prepare some suggestions, by which piracy in this river could be stopped without constant recourse to fire and sword.

         I found they had none to offer, so I made an attempt to do something without them. I called on the Chiefs to hold a friendly palaver. Unfortunately, I had been detained two days longer than I meant, waiting for the mail steamer to reach Ambrizette. I found that some of the Chiefs of the Northern bank had come to Banana on the 5th to see me. As I had not kept my tryst, I asked if it would be safe for me to go to their towns to see them. The merchants thought it would, if I did not go in a man-of-war’s boat or with arms, and if I was accompanied by interpreters and trade friends. Mr. Burney kindly placed his boat and Kroomen at our disposal. Accompanied by Lieutenant-Commander Larcom, of the Pioneer, Mr. Burney, and some other gentlemen, a native interpreter, and hammock bearers, we started for Nemlao’s town. We landed safely, and went a few yards into the bush, until we reached a clearance. When we were getting into our hammocks, a party of natives came rushing down the path towards us, gesticulating wildly, and pointing guns at us in a menacing manner. The leader was known to our interpreter as Killio, headman to King Nemlao. He said [PAGE 132] we should not go one step further, and if we did not return to our boat he would fire. We explained our object was a friendly palaver; that we had no arms with us, and it was plain we did not come to fight. He replied that Sunday was the proper day for a white man to pay friendly visits, and this was not Sunday. We said that after this insult we should return to our boats, but our object had been to make friendly arrangements with Nemlao, and we should not come to him on such a message again, if he allowed us to be insulted. The King’s brother George then appeared on the scene, and throwing himself at our feet besought us not to return, but to proceed on our mission and see the King. I refused to do so unless the armed men were removed and the King came to where I was. A row then began between George and Killio, and the excitement was intense. More armed men filled the bush. Mr. Burney’s native interpreter behaved with great pluck, going straight up to Killio’s gun, which was pointed at him, and turning the muzzle up towards the sky. Our boat got aground in trying to get off, and for some minutes we were subjected to volleys of abuse from Killio, and had about 50 guns pointing at us. Afterwards we learnt that Killio’s great excitement was caused by one of our party having, as he believed, an “evil eye” or “bad fetish,” as he expressed it. Whatever was the cause, we certainly did not believe at one time that the [PAGE 133] affair would end without bloodshed. I was thankful that it did, my object being to bring about a peaceful arrangement for the safe navigation of the Congo, and not to complicate matters by fresh deeds of violence, but savages are not civilized in a day. These Congo men have perhaps the worst repute on the Coast. It is the result of the old slave trade. The sole occupation of these tribes used to be in connection with it, and as they don’t like the labour which legitimate traffic entails, they find piracy a pleasant compromise.

         Finding we had a treaty with King Antonio, who lived on the South bank, near Shark’s Point, we obtained a pilot who could take the Pioneer to his town. This King has the greatest power on the river, and in 1865 a treaty had been made with his predecessor on the “stool,” for the abolition of the slave trade, and the suppression of river piracy. In consideration of a yearly “dash” he was bound to discover the perpetrators of piratical attacks on British vessels, and to aid British officers by information, and his authority, in bringing them to justice.

         No ship had ever been to Antonio’s town before. Our pilot had been to it in a canoe, but he had only taken a vessel of any larger size - a slaver I am afraid - within three miles of it. The passage was through a mangrove swamp, the channel deep, after the bar was crossed. As we drew near the town, other trees were visible, the ground began to rise in undulations, and [PAGE 134] patches of well-cultivated land were frequent, but the people were in a great fright, and ran into the bush as fast as they could. “King Peter,” of Banana, Mr. Burney’s interpreter, who behaved so well the previous day, was sure we should never see Antonio. “No, no,” he repeated, “King lib for bush.” But as soon as we anchored we sent our ambassador on shore with a small preliminary “dash” and a friendly message, and we soon saw the people creeping back towards the water, cautiously peeping round trees at first, but in a few minutes crowding down to have a good stare at us, and jabbering like a set of monkeys. Then a canoe came off with some of our Shark’s Point friends, who were evidently in high feather with the sense of their importance. Our first message from Antonio was that he was gone “for bush,” that is, to the bush, to make fetish for rain, but soon afterwards our “King Peter” returned with a message that Antonio would see us.

         Lieutenant-Commander Larcom, and I, and the Paymaster of the Pioneer, with a small black following, landed, and walked to the King’s house. We found His Majesty seated in State in the open. A few lengths of cotton cloth were fastened up, as a kind of screen behind him, to which were pinned some very common pictures. The King held a crucifix in his hand. He had prepared gin cases, covered with pocket-handkerchiefs, as seats for us. An umbrella [PAGE 135] was held over his head. His suite was not large, and he was the “meanest” King I had seen in West Africa. He had a decanter of water and some tumblers placed before us. We explained the object of our visit. He pretended to know a little about “the book” his predecessors had made with England. He said he had heard there was “a book” but had never seen it. We read him the Articles and explained them.

         He said, “What for then you no dash me, as book say?”

         “Because your men rob our ships,” we replied. We told him that we would sooner pay him “a dash” than burn his towns, but piracy must be stopped. I never saw a native so greedy for a “dash” as this man. Rum, he was eager for. What we did give was an order for £3, on a factor at Banana, and I am told he was very well pleased at having got so much out of us. Our visit to this out-of-the-way place did much good; and if the lower reach of the Congo and its numerous creeks was surveyed, and an independent Englishman, not a trader, brought in contact with the natives oftener, and their confidence gained, all manner of hindrances to the river trade would soon disappear. The truth is, these tribes deal with small Portuguese traders, and not much with Banana, and a mutual dislike exists between Antonio’s people and the Banana traders.

         Some of the Kings whose names were attached to the treaty of 1865 had ceased to be known. We did not seek them, but left the news of our interview with Antonio to percolate through the villages and towns by the “native post,” which we knew to travel quickly.

         Mr. Larcom had noticed that if he went for a walk anywhere on this part of the coast, his movements were quickly made known in every direction; and if he missed a companion, the first native he met that could speak English would tell him which way he had taken, although he could not have spoken from his own personal knowledge. This system of passing news on from one to the other was called the “native post.”

         On our return to the Pioneer we found a very brisk trade going on. I saw an armful of tobacco bought for two empty bottles. Some good otter skins were produced, and plenty of live stock, and parrots. We saluted King Antonio with two guns; and the people yelled like jackals in reply.

         The return passage was made without any difficulty.

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