Chapter XXIX (1)

Funeral rites in Damara land--The Koossan method of disposing
of the dead--The grave in the cattle fold--No recovering
spilt water--Coming out of mourning--No half mourning among
savages--The feast of release--The slave barracoon--A thousand
skeletons--The mortal remains of a Bechuana--The burying
ground at Fetich Point--The grave of old King Pass-all--A
Barrodo Beondo funeral--The late King Jemmy--Respect of the
Timannees for their dead--A Religious impostor--A funeral
at Mandingo--Strange behaviour of the mourners--By whose
“Griffee” did you die?--Burial of King Archibongo--His
devil-house--Funeral ceremonies in Madagascar--How the poor
Malagasey is disposed of--“Take that for dying”--Sepulchral
rites in Abyssinia--Burying in Sambo land--The demon
“Wulasha”--Blood rule in Dahomey--The very last grand
custom--Devil’s work--How a Dahoman king is buried--A pot for
the king’s bones.

Among the Damaras of South Africa the mode of disposing of the dead is somewhat different from that practised by those who dwell in the more remote parts of that country. Andersson tells us, that in the case of the Damara, as soon as he dies (sometimes, indeed, it is horridly rumoured, _before_ animation has ceased), his nearest kinsfolk fetch a big stone and break the backbone, the more conveniently to bundle and tie him nose and knees together. This accomplished, the body is wrapped in the hide of an ox, a hole dug in the earth, and the defunct squatted in with his face towards the north. This is done, say the natives, to remind them where they originally came from.

When a poor Bechuana or Damara woman, having a helpless baby, dies, it is no uncommon thing for the little creature to be placed with her _alive_ in the hole dug for the reception of the adult body. Mr. Rath, a missionary, happened on one occasion to approach a burial party at which this atrocity was about to be committed, and was successful in releasing the poor little thing.

“After having consigned the remains of a chief to his last resting-place,” says Andersson, “they collect his arms, war-dress, etc., and suspend them to a pole or to a tree at the head of the grave. The horns of such oxen as have been killed in commemoration of the occasion are hung up in a like manner. The tomb consists of a large heap of stones surrounded by thorn bushes, no doubt to keep hyænas and other carnivorous animals from extracting the corpse. Sometimes, however, the chief, should he have expressed a wish to that effect, instead of being buried is placed in a reclining position on a slightly raised platform in the centre of his own hut, which in such a case is surrounded by stout and strong palisadings.

“When a chief feels his dissolution approaching, he calls his sons to his bedside and gives them his benediction, which consists solely in wishing them an abundance of the good things of this world. The eldest son of the chief’s favourite wife succeeds his father; and as soon as the obsequies are over he quits the desolate spot, remaining absent for years. At last, however, he returns, and immediately proceeds to his parent’s grave, where he kneels down, and in a whispering voice tells the deceased that he is there with his family and the cattle that he gave him. He then prays for a long life; also that his herds may thrive and multiply: and, in short, that he may obtain all those things that are dear to a savage. This duty being performed, he constructs a kraal on the identical spot where once the ancestral camp stood; even the huts and the fireplaces are placed as near as possible in their former position.

“The flesh of the first animal slaughtered here is cooked in a particular vessel; and when ready the chief hands a portion of it to every one present. An image consisting of two pieces of wood, supposed to represent, the household deity, or rather the deified parent, is then produced and moistened in the platter of each individual. The chief then takes the image, and after affixing a piece of meat to the upper end of it, he plants it in the ground on the identical spot where the parent was accustomed to sacrifice. The first pail of milk produced from the cattle is also taken to the grave; a small quantity is also poured over the ground, and a blessing asked on the remainder.

Among the Koossas, a tribe of South African natives, as soon as they perceive a sick man near his end, he is carried from his hut to some solitary spot beneath the shade of a tree. A fire is then made, and a vessel and water set near him. Only the husband or wife, or some near relation, remains with him. If he appear dying, water is thrown over his head, in hopes of its reviving him; but should this fail, and it becomes apparent that death is approaching, he is left by everybody but his wife; or should the sick person be a woman, then it is her husband alone who stays with her. The relations, however, do not retire to their homes; they gather at a distance, and from time to time the dying person’s nurse calls out and lets them know how matters are progressing, till comes the final announcement “he is dead.” When all is over, the dead man’s relatives proceed to the nearest stream, and, having purified themselves, return home.

The wife, however, who must pay the last duties to her husband, cannot do this. She leaves the body, about which no one is any longer solicitous, to become a prey to beasts and birds, and goes with a firebrand taken from the fire that had been kindled near the dying man, to some other solitary place, where she again makes a fire, and though it should rain ever so hard, she must not suffer it to be extinguished. In the night she comes secretly to the hut where she had lived with her husband, and burns it, and then returns back to her solitude, where she must remain a month entirely secluded from the world, and living the whole time on roots and berries. When this period of solitary mourning has expired, she divests herself of her clothes, which she destroys, bathes, lacerates her breasts and her arms with a sharp stone, and having made her a long petticoat of rushes returns at sunset to the kraal.

At her desire a youth of the tribe brings her a lighted firebrand, and exactly on the spot where her husband’s hut formerly stood she builds a fire; some one of her tribe then brings her some new milk, with which she rinses her mouth, and she is then acknowledged as completely purified, and is received once more among her relations and friends. Singularly enough, however, the cow from which the milk is drawn is, on the contrary, rendered impure, and though not killed, is neglected entirely and left to die a natural death. The day following the widow’s return an ox is killed, and after feasting on its flesh, the skin is given to her to make her a new mantle. Immediately after this her sisters-in-law assist her in building a new hut, and she is completely reinstated in social life.

A widower has nearly the same mourning ceremonies to observe, only with this difference, that his seclusion lasts but half a month. He then throws his garments away and prepares himself a new garment from the skin of an ox. He takes besides the hair the tail of the ox, with which he makes himself a necklace and wears it as long as it will last. If a person dies suddenly the whole colony will shift, judging that no further luck will attend them if they stay, and the body of the suddenly defunct is allowed to remain exactly as it fell, and with the hut for its sepulchre. If, however, the individual suddenly dying is a young child, impurity is supposed to attach only to the hut in which it died, and which is either pulled down or closed up for ever.

It is only the chiefs and their wives who are buried. They are left to die in their huts; the corpse is then wrapped in the folds of their mantle and a grave is dug in the cattle-fold. After the earth is thrown in some of the oxen are driven into the fold and remain there, so that the earth is entirely trodden down and indistinguishable from the rest. The oxen are then driven out; but they by this process become sacred oxen, and must by no man be slain for his eating.

The widows of the deceased have all the household utensils which they and their husbands had used together; and after remaining three days in solitude purify themselves according to the usual manner. They then each kill an ox, and each makes herself a new mantle of its hide. The kraal is then entirely deserted by the tribe and is never chosen as a building site, even though it be highly eligible and the horde in search of a site is entirely unknown to that belonging to which the chief died. A chief whose wife dies has the same ceremonies to observe as any other man, excepting that with him the time of mourning is only three days. The place where the wife of a chief is buried is forsaken in the same manner as in the case of the chief himself.

The Koossas have no priests or religious ceremonies, and consequently but few traditions. They know of no power superior to that with which ordinary mortals are invested except that professed by enchanters, which are of two sorts--good and bad; the former being the more powerful and able to frustrate the designs of the latter, provided that he be called on in time and the transaction be made worth his while. The Koossan enchanters are, as a rule, old women--poor wretches who, doubtless, finding themselves past labour and objects of contempt and impatience among their tribe, avail themselves of their long experience of the weaknesses and superstitions of those by whom they are surrounded, and boldly set up as witches as the most certain means of gaining not only the goodwill of the people but also their awe and respect.

Should a Koossan find himself at what he has reason to suspect to be death’s door, he sends for an enchantress. The “magic woman,” after hearing his case--never mind what it may be--proceeds to cure him; she makes some pellets of cow-dung, and laying them in rows and circles upon the man’s stomach, chants certain mysterious airs and dances and skips about him; after a while she will make a sudden dart at her patient and hold up to her audience a snake or a lizard, which the said audience is to infer was at that moment, through her force of magic, extracted from the seat of the patient’s ailment. If the sick man should die the excuse is that the appointed time of life had expired and that “there was no recovering spilled water,” or else she puts a bold face on the matter and declares that at least two evil enchanters were working against her, and that against such odds success was hopeless. In his dealings with these enchanters, however, the Koossan has this substantial security that no stone will be left unturned to effect his cure--the fee is agreed on beforehand and posted with a friend; should the patient grow well the friend delivers the ox, or whatever the fee may consist of, to the doctress; if the patient should die, or after a reasonable time find himself no better for the old lady’s services, he fetches home his ox and there is an end to the matter.

If, however, the patient be an exacting individual and inclined to avail himself to the fullest of Koossan law, he, although quite restored to health through the witch’s agency, may still refuse to pay her her fee till she discovers and brings to justice the person who enchanted him. As this, however, is a mere matter of hard swearing, combined with a little discrimination in the selection of the victim, the witch-doctress is seldom averse to undertake this latter business. The whole tribe is collected on a certain day, and in their midst a hut is built. To this hut the witch retires on the pretence that before she can reveal the name of the malefactor she must sleep, that he may appear before her in a dream. The people without in the meantime dance and sing for a while, till at length the men go into the hut and beg the enchantress to come forward. At first she hesitates; but they take her a number of assagais as a present, and in a little while she makes her appearance with the weapons in her hand. While staying in the hut she has busied herself in painting her body all sorts of colours, and with scarcely any other covering she stalks into the midst of the assembled throng.

With loud compassion for her nudity the people hasten to pluck their ox-hide mantles from their own shoulders and cast them on those of the witch, till she is nearly overwhelmed by these demonstrations of their solicitude. Suddenly, however, she starts up, flings off the cover of mantles, and makes a rush towards a certain man or woman, striking him or her with the bundle of assagais. For the unlucky wretch to protest his innocence it is utterly useless. The rabble, chafing like other beasts, seizes the evil doer and impatiently await the good witch’s decision as to what had best be done with him--whether, for instance, he shall be buried under an ant heap or put in a hole in the ground and covered with large hot stones. Should the ant hill be his doom, lingering torture and death are certain; but if he be a very strong man he may resist the hot stone torture, and when night arrives may force the terrible weights from off him, and dragging his poor scorched body out of the hole make his escape. Never again, however, must he venture among the people, who in all probability number among them his wife and children; for should he do so he would be executed off hand and his body thrown out to the hyænas.

In certain parts of the interior of Africa the custom of “waking” the defunct is ordinarily practised. Du Chaillu had a serving man named Tonda, and one day Tonda died, and the traveller having a suspicion of the ceremony that would be performed visited the house of Tonda’s mother, where the body lay. The narrow space of the room was crowded; about two hundred women were sitting and standing around, singing mourning songs to doleful and monotonous airs. “They were so huddled together that for a while I could not distinguish the place of the corpse. At last some moved aside, and behold! the body of my friend. It was seated in a chair, dressed in a black tail coat and a pair of pantaloons, and wore round its neck several strings of beads. Tonda’s mother approaching her dead son, prostrated herself before him and begged him to speak to her once more. A painful silence followed the of course fruitless adjuration; but presently it was broken by the loud hopeless wailing uttered by the bereaved woman, the rest of the company making dolorous chorus.”

The savages of Central Africa do not wear black for their departed relatives, unless indeed an accumulative coat of dirt may be so called; for it is a fact that among these people the way to express extreme sorrow is to go unwashed and very dirty. Besides, they wear about their bodies any ragged cloth that comes handy, and altogether evidently endeavour to convey the idea that now so-and-so is dead their relish for life is at an end, and that the frivolous question of personal appearance is no longer worth discussing. To their credit be it named, however, they are not guilty of the monstrous civilized custom of _half_-mourning. They don’t immediately on the death of a friend don attire and virtually proclaim, “See how sorry I am!--see my jetty gown or coat and the black studs in my shirt-front!” nor do they, when the deceased has passed away three months or less, streak their black with white and proclaim, “I am a _little_ more cheerful--you may see how much by the breadth of the white stripe in my ribands.” The African is happily ignorant of these grades of grief; when he sorrows he sorrows to the very dust, but between that mood and boisterous merriment is with him but a single skip. Thus when the mourning period has expired (it varies from one to two years) a day is appointed for the breaking-up of mourning-time and a return to the bright side of the world. The friends and relatives and the widows (there are often six or seven of them) come in gangs of ten or a dozen from villages far off--some by the road, and some in their canoes, and none empty-handed. Each one is provided with a jar of _mimbo_ or palm wine, and _something that will make a row_--gunpowder, kettles with round stones to shake in them, drums, tom-toms, and whistles made of reed. The row is the leading feature of the breaking-up, and is called _bola woga_. Virtually the mourning is over the evening before the ceremony commences, for the company have all arrived, as has the dead man’s heir (who, by-the-by, can, if he chooses, claim and take home every widow on the establishment), and the bereaved wives, albeit as yet uncleansed from their long-worn and grimy mourning suit, are full of glee and giggle, and have pleasant chat among themselves concerning the gay rig out they will adopt to-morrow.

To-morrow comes. Early in the morning the village is informed that the widows are already up and have already partaken of a certain magic brew that effectually divorces them from their weeds. The gun firing is likewise the signal for as many as choose to come and take part in the jollification, and as it invariably happens that as many as like unlimited _mimbo_ accept the invitation, the entire population may presently be seen wending one way--toward the feast house. There they find mats spread not only about the house, but down the street that leads to it, and there they find the cleanly-washed widows decked in spotless calico and wearing anklets and wristlets heavy enough to account for their sedate mien. Then all the guests, having taken care that floods of _mimbo_ are within easy reach, take their seats, and more guns are fired, and the orgie commences, and concludes not till every jar of palm wine has been broached, all the gunpowder expended, every drum-head beaten in, and every kettle hammered into a shapeless thing by the banging of the stones within. The rising moon finds them to a man huddled in every possible attitude about the wine-stained mats, helplessly drunk and with each other’s carcases, and cooking pots, and jars, and fractured drums as pillows. Next day the house of the deceased is razed to the ground, and the mourning for the rich man with many wives is at an end.

While Du Chaillu was sojourning at Sangatanga, the domains of a certain African king named Bango, whose chief revenue is derived from dealing in slaves and by taxing the slave “factors” whose “barracoons” (as the slave warehouses are called) are situated on the coast there; he was witness to the disposal of the body of a poor wretch who had fortunately died before he could be bought, hauled aboard a slaver, and “traded-off” anywhere where the market was briskest. If anything can be told in connexion with the hideous system further to disgust its enemies--which happily includes every man in England’s broad dominions--it is such stories as the following:

“During my stay in the village, as I was one day shooting birds in a grove not far from my house, I saw a procession of slaves coming from one of the barracoons towards the further end of my grove. As they came nearer I saw that two gangs of six slaves each, all chained about the neck, were carrying a burden between them, which I presently knew to be the corpse of another slave. They bore it to the edge of the grove, about three hundred yards from my house, and there throwing it down upon the bare ground returned to their prison, accompanied by their overseer, who with his whip had marched behind them hither. Here, then, is the burying-ground of the barracoon, I said to myself sadly, thinking, I confess, of the poor fellow who had been dragged away from his home and friends to die here and be thrown out as food for the vultures, who even as I stood in thought began already to darken the air above my head and were presently heard fighting over the remains.

“The grove, which was in fact but an African aceldama, was beautiful to view from my house, and I had often resolved to explore it and rest in the shade of its dark-foliaged trees. It seemed a ghastly place enough now, as I approached it to see more closely the work of the disgusting vultures. They fled when they saw me, but only a little way, sitting upon the lower branches of the surrounding trees watching me with eyes askance, as though fearful I would rob them of their prey.

“As I walked towards the body I felt something crack under my feet, and looking down saw that I was already in the midst of the field of skulls. I had inadvertently stepped into the skeleton of some poor creature who had been thrown here long enough ago for the birds and ants to pick his bones clean and the rains to bleach them. I think there must have been a thousand such skeletons lying within my sight. The place had been used for many years, and the mortality in the barracoons is sometimes frightful. Here the dead were thrown, and here the vultures found their daily carrion. The grass had just been burned, and the white bones scattered everywhere gave the ground a singular, and when the cause was known, a frightful appearance. Penetrating a little farther into the bush, I found great piles of bones.

“Here was the place where, when years ago Cape Lopez was one of the great slave markets on the west coast and barracoons were more numerous than now, the poor dead were thrown one upon another till even the mouldering bones remained in high piles as monuments of the nefarious traffic.”

In Angola, in cases of death the body is kept several days, and there is a grand concourse of both sexes, with beating of drums, dances, and debauchery kept up with feasting, etc., according to the means of the relatives. The great ambition of many of the blacks of Angola is to give their friends an expensive funeral. Often when one is asked to sell a pig he replies, “I am keeping it in case of the death of any of my friends.” A pig is usually slaughtered and eaten on the last day of the ceremonies, and its head thrown into the nearest stream or river. A native will sometimes appear intoxicated on these occasions, and if blamed for his intemperance will reply, “Why, don’t you know that my mother is dead,” as if he thought it a sufficient justification. The expenses of funerals are so heavy that often years elapse before they can defray them.

The Bechuanas of Southern Africa generally bury their dead. The ceremony of interment, etc., varies in different localities and is influenced by the rank of the deceased. But the following is a fair specimen of the way in which these obsequies are managed:

On the approaching dissolution of a man, a skin or net is thrown over the body, which is held in a sitting posture with the knees doubled up under the chin, until life is extinct. A grave is then dug--very frequently in the cattle-fold--six feet in depth and about three in width, the interior being rubbed over with a certain large bulb. The body, having the head covered, is then conveyed through a hole made for the purpose in the house and the surrounding fence and deposited in the grave in a sitting position, care being taken to put the face of the corpse against the north. Portions of an ant-hill are placed about the feet, when the net which held the body is gradually withdrawn. As the grave is filled up the earth is handed in with bowls, while two men stand in the hole to tread it down round the body, great care being taken to pick out anything like a root or pebble. When the earth reaches the height of the mouth, a small twig or branch of an acacia is thrown in, and on the top of the head a few roots of grass are placed. The grave being nearly filled, another root of grass is fixed immediately over the head, part of which stands above ground. When this portion of the ceremony is over, the men and women stoop, and with their hands scrape on to the little mound the loose soil lying about. A large bowl of water, with an infusion of bulbs, is now brought, when the men and women wash their hands and the upper part of their legs, shouting “Pùla, pùla” (rain, rain). An old woman, probably a relation, will then bring the weapons of the deceased (bows, arrows, war-axe, and even the bone of an old pack ox), with other things. They finally address the grave, saying, “These are all your articles.” The things are then taken away and bowls of water are poured on the grave, when all retire, the women wailing, “Yo, yo, yo,” with some doleful dirge, sorrowing without hope.

Here is another singular picture of an African burying-ground:

“Near Fetich Point is the Oroungou burying-ground, and this I went to visit the following morning. It lay about a mile from our camp, toward Sangatanga, from which it was distant about half-a-day’s pull in a canoe. It is in a grove of noble trees, many of them of magnificent size and shape. The natives hold this place in great reverence, and refused at first to go with me on my contemplated visit, even desiring that I should not go. I explained to them that I did not go to laugh at their dead, but rather to pay them honour. But it was only by the promise of a large reward that I at last persuaded Niamkala, who was of our party, to accompany me. The negroes visit the place only on funeral errands, and hold it in the greatest awe, conceiving that here the spirits of their ancestors wander about, and that these are not lightly to be disturbed. I am quite sure that treasure to any amount might be left here exposed in perfect safety.

“The grove stands by the seashore. It is entirely cleared of underbush, and as the wind sighs through the dense foliage of the trees and whispers in the darkened and somewhat gloomy grove, it is an awful place, even to an unimpressible white man. Niamkala stood in silence by the strand while I entered the domains of the Oroungou dead. They are not put below the surface; they lie about beneath the trees in huge wooden coffins, some of which by their new look betokened recent arrival, but by far the greater number were crumbling away. Here was a coffin falling to pieces, and disclosing a grinning skeleton within. On the other side were skeletons already without covers, which lay in dust beside them. Everywhere were bleached bones and mouldering remains. It was curious to see the brass anklets and bracelets in which some Oroungou maiden has been buried still surrounding her whitened bones, and to note the remains of goods which had been laid in the same coffin with some wealthy fellow now mouldering to dust at his side. In some places there remained only little heaps of shapeless dust, from which some copper or iron or ivory ornament gleamed out to prove that here too once lay a corpse. Passing on to a yet more sombre gloom, I came at last to the grave of old King Pass-all, the brother of his present majesty. The coffin lay on the ground, and was surrounded on every side with great chests, which contained the property of his deceased majesty. Among these chests, and on the top of them, were piled huge earthenware jugs, glasses, mugs, plates, iron pots and bars, brass and copper rings, and other precious things, which this old Pass-all had determined to carry at last to the grave with him. And also there lay around numerous skeletons of the poor slaves who were, to the number of one hundred, killed when the king died, that his ebony kingship might not pass into the other world without due attendance. It was a grim sight, and one which filled me with a sadder awe than even the disgusting barracoon ground.”

In matters of death and burial, as in all other matters pertaining to savagery, Western Africa stands conspicuous. “At the town of Ambago,” says Hutchinson, “when all preliminaries are arranged, they carry the corpse to its last resting-place, accompanied by the surviving relatives, male and female, who bear in a small package a portion of the hair, nails, etc., of the deceased. When arrived at the secluded place which has been prepared to receive the body they deposit it in its last resting-place. Over this they erect a tomb, on which, in a sort of niche, are placed various small earthen or hardware figures, plates, mugs, bottles, etc., together with a variety of edibles; the receptacle prepared to receive these being called quindumbila. After the ceremony, the survivor--husband or wife--is carried from the grave on the back of a person of the same sex, and thrown into the river for ablution or purification. On coming up out of the river, the individual is conveyed back to his residence, where he is obliged to remain secluded for eight days, during which time he must not converse with any person of the opposite sex, nor eat anything that has been boiled, nor wash himself during these days of obit. The friends, meanwhile, enjoy a feast of fowls and other delicacies which has been prepared for the occasion, after which they each make a present to the mourner of something preparatory to the celebration of the great batuque, or dance. If unable to provide for the expense of the funeral, some relative or friend generally becomes security for its payment; this is called “gungo.” After the eight days have elapsed the room is swept, and the mourner is permitted to enjoy comfortable and warm food. On this occasion the eldest child or heir (if any) is brought in and made to sit down on a benza,--a small square seat made of bamboos. They then place upon his head a caginga, or calotte, a kind of hat or cap made of palm straw interwoven, and demand that all the papers belonging to the deceased be produced, that they may learn what his will was in reference to the disposal of his property, and whether he had given liberty to any of his slaves. The nearest of kin is looked upon as the legitimate heir, and accordingly takes possession of all the moveable property.”

Valdez, the African traveller, furnishes some curious examples of the death and funeral ceremonials of the inhabitants of many remote Western African towns. As for instance at Barrodo Beondo:

“Attracted by a strange noise proceeding from the river, I went to ascertain what it was. On arriving at the landing-place I learned that it proceeded from a number of persons who formed an itame, or funeral procession, of a Muxi Loanda who had just died. When any person dies the mourners commence a great lamentation and manifest apparently the most extravagant grief. The corpse is first wrapped in a number of cloths with aromatics and perfumes; it is then conveyed to the place of interment, followed by a large cortege of the relatives and friends of the deceased, the females who accompany the funeral procession being dressed in a long black cloak with a hood which covers the head.

“On the present occasion the Muxi Loanda not being a Christian was buried in a place not far distant from the road, and the grave covered with small stones, a paddle or oar being placed on it in commemoration of the profession of the deceased. Many graves are thus marked by the distinctive insignia of office of those interred in them.

“There is another singular custom amongst these people, that of one of the survivors, the nearest of kin to the deceased, being obliged to lie in the bed that was lately occupied by him for the space of three days from the time of removal. During this period the mourning relatives make lamentation at stated intervals each day--namely, at day-break, sunset, and midnight. At the expiration of eight days the relatives and friends reuniting, resume their lamentations and recount the virtues and good deeds of the deceased, occasionally exclaiming ‘Uafu!’ (he is dead), all present at the same time joining in a chorus and exclaiming ‘Ay-ú-é (woe is me). At the expiration of the eighth day they go in solemn procession, headed by the chief mourner, to the sea-side, river, or forest, whichever is nearest, bearing the skull of the pig upon which they had feasted, and on this occasion they suppose that the zumbi or soul of the deceased enters eternal happiness. One month after death the relatives and friends again assemble together and hold a great feast, at which they consume great quantities of cachassa or rum, and which they terminate with that lascivious dance the bateque.”

Among the Bulloms and the Timannees, we are informed by Winterbottom, the chief solemnity and magnificence of their funerals consists in the quantity of rum and tobacco expended upon the occasion, which they call “making a cry.” Among the poorer sort this ceremony is sometimes deferred for several months after the body is buried, until they can procure a sufficient quantity of these indispensable articles to honour the memory of the deceased. The funeral or “cry” of Mr. James Cleveland (a favourite European official), owing to some considerations of policy in his successor, was not solemnized until near three years after the body had been buried. During the time which elapsed from his death until the “cry” was celebrated a bed was kept constantly prepared for him in the palaver house, water was placed by the bedside for his hands, and also meat for him to eat. Upwards of twenty puncheons of rum, together with a large quantity of tobacco, were consumed at the celebration of his “cry.”

“King Jemmy,” a native chief who resided within a mile of the settlement of Sierra Leone, died at a town on the river Bunch, whither he had been removed about ten days for the benefit of medical aid, and probably to escape from the witchcraft which he conceived to be practised against him. The body was removed to his own town the day after his death and placed in the palaver house. A message was sent to the governor of Sierra Leone to solicit him to help the people to cry for king Jemmy. About half-past four in the afternoon the body was taken from the palaver house, where it was attended by a number of women, to the grave, which was dug about four feet deep, just without the town. The corpse being placed by the side of the grave, a number of questions were put to it by different persons who stooped down to the coffin for that purpose. Pa Denba (a neighbouring head man), in a speech of some minutes, which he addressed to the deceased as if he had been still alive, expressed his great grief in having lost so good a father; he further added that he and all the people had wished the deceased to stay with them; but as he had thought proper to leave them they could not help it, but he and all the people wished him well. Some others of the head men expressed themselves in a similar manner. The umbrella belonging to the deceased was put into the coffin because, they said, he liked to walk with it. The pillow which he commonly used was laid in the grave beneath the head of the coffin. The queen or head woman stood sorrowing by the side of the grave, having his hat in her hand, which she was going to put into the grave, but was prevented by one of the head men, who probably reserved it for his own use. When the corpse was let down into the grave, which was done with great care, each of the spectators took a handful of earth and threw it on the coffin--most of them threw it backwards over their shoulder. When the speeches were finished, a friend of Mr. Winterbottom, who represented the governor upon the occasion, was asked if he would not “shake king Jemmy by the hand.” Upon requesting an explanation, he was desired to say a prayer white man’s fashion, which was done, not for the dead but for the living, by the chaplain of the colony, who was also present. Several pieces of kola were put into the grave for the king to eat, and his neckerchief for him to wear.

The Timannees are, it would seem, mighty particular as to the care of their graves. When Mr. Laing was exploring their country, a man belonging to his party had unconsciously committed a trifling indignity upon the supposed grave of a Timannee’s father, who immediately brought a palaver against him. The man charged with the offence protested that he was ignorant that the ground on which he had stood had covered the remains of any one, as there was no apparent mark to distinguish it from other ground, and that had he known it he would have been more circumspect; but the apparently injured Timannee insisted on satisfaction, and, according to the custom of the country, demanded a fine of two “bars,” one of cloth and the other of rum. These Mr. Laing immediately paid, being always desirous to conciliate (as far as he could) the goodwill of the natives. The Timannee, however, being ignorant of the motive, and supposing by his easy compliance that the traveller might be still further imposed upon, made an extra demand of two additional bars, on the ground that if a poor man would be obliged to pay two, the follower of a rich white man ought to pay four. This additional demand was, however, not only refused, but the previous presents were taken back; Mr. Laing stating that he had no objection to conform to their customs, but when he saw that the object was extortion and not satisfaction for a supposed injury done to the dead, he would give nothing, being well convinced that no man belonging to his party would do any wrong in the country intentionally. “The head men, who were judges of the palaver, were satisfied, and gave their voice against their own countryman, who, on retiring, went to his household greegree, and making sacrifice of a fowl and some palm wine, addressed it for more than an hour, requesting that it would kill the man who had defiled his father’s grave; ‘If he eats, make his food choke him; if he walk, make the thorns cut him; if he bathes, make the alligators eat him; if he goes in a canoe, make it sink with him; but never, never, let him return to Sierra Leone.’ This curious anathema was sung to a sort of tune so pathetic that had I heard its mournful intonation, accompanied by the earnest gesticulation of the Timannee, without knowing the cause, it must have excited my most sincere commiseration; as it was, I regretted that the powers of mimicry, with which this people are gifted, should aid them so much in the art of dissimulating as to enable them frequently to impose even upon one another. The appeal had nearly turned the tables against our countryman, and probably would have done so effectually, had not a greegree man come forward and declared the whole affair an imposition fabricated for the sake of procuring money, for he knew that my man had never been near the grave of the supplicant’s father.”

While the gentleman who relates the above incident was at Mabung a young girl died rather suddenly, and previous to her interment, the following practices were observed:

“The moment that life fled from the body, a loud yell was uttered from the throats of about a hundred people who had assembled to watch the departing struggles of nature, after which a party of several hundred women, some of them beating small drums, sallied through the town, seizing and keeping possession of every moveable article which they could find out of doors; the cause or origin of this privilege I could not ascertain. A few hours after the death of the girl, the elders and the greegree men of the town assembled in the palaver-hall and held a long consultation or inquest as to the probable cause of the death. It was enquired whether any one had threatened her during her lifetime, and it was long surmised that she might have been killed by witchcraft. Had the slave trade existed, some unfortunate individual might have been accused and sold into captivity; but its suppression in this country permitted the Magi, after a tedious consultation of three days, to decide that the death had been caused by the agency of the devil. During the two first nights of those days large parties paraded the town, yelling, shouting, and clapping hands to keep away the wrath of the greegrees, and on the third, being the night on which the body was interred, considerable presents of rice, cassada, cloth, and palm wine were deposited at the greegree houses to appease the evil spirits, and to beg they would kill no more people. At midnight five or six men, habited in very singular and unsightly costumes, made their appearance, and taking away the presents, intimated that all the evil spirits were satisfied, and that nobody should die in the town for a long period. Dancing and revelry then took place, and continued till long after daylight.”

Again he tells us--“A young Mandingo negro was celebrating the funeral of his mother, who had been dead about a fortnight. On the very day of her death I had been attracted to the neighbourhood by the sound of the music. I saw in the court-yard two large drums, made like ours, and some persons were beating them and clashing cymbals. The cymbals consist of two pieces of iron, about five inches long and two and a half wide. The two negroes who were beating the drums held these cymbals in their left hands. Each of the pieces of iron has a ring, one is passed over the thumb and the other over the forefinger, and by a movement of the hand they are struck together in regular time. The women of the neighbourhood brought little presents by way of showing respect to the deceased. A large circular basket was placed exactly in the centre of the yard to receive the offerings. The women having deposited their presents assumed a grave look, and ranging themselves in a file, marched along, keeping time to the music, and making motions with their hands and heads expressive of sorrow. Sometimes they beat time by clapping their hands while they sang a melancholy song. The scene continued the whole of the day. I enquired whether the presents which had been brought in honour of the deceased were to be buried with her, for the Bambaras observe this superstitious custom.

“Four little boys, whose bodies were covered with leaves of trees well arranged, and whose heads were adorned with plumes of ostrich feathers, held in each hand a round basket with a handle, in which were bits of iron and pebbles. They kept time with the music, jumping and shaking their baskets, the contents of which produced a strange jingling. There were two leaders of the band who regulated the intervals when the performers were to play. They wore beautiful mantles of cotton network, very white and fringed round. On their heads they had black caps edged with scarlet and adorned with cowries and ostrich feathers. The musicians stood at the foot of a baobab. The assemblage was numerous and all were well dressed. The men were tricked out in all their finery. I saw several with little coussabes of a rusty colour and almost covered with amulets rolled up in little pieces of yellow cloth. Some were armed with muskets, and others with bows and arrows, as if prepared for combat. They also wore large round straw hats of their own native manufacture. They walked all together round the assembled circle, leaping and dancing to the sound of the music, which I thought very agreeable. Sometimes they appeared furious, firing their muskets and running about with threatening looks. The men with bows and arrows appeared as if on the point of rushing on an enemy, and they pretended to shoot their arrows. The men were followed by a number of women, all neatly dressed, having about their shoulders white pagones, or mantles of native cloth, which they tossed about from side to side, while they walked to the sound of the music and observed profound silence. Those who were fatigued withdrew and their places were immediately supplied by others. When they left the party they ran away very fast and were followed by some of the musicians, who accompanied them playing as far as their huts, where they received a small present. About the middle of the festival all the male relatives of the deceased made their appearance, dressed in white. They walked in two files, each carrying in his hand a piece of flat iron which they struck with another smaller piece. They walked round the assembly, keeping time, and singing a melancholy air. They were followed by women who repeated the same song in chorus and at intervals clapped their hands. Next came the son of the deceased, who was well dressed and armed with a sabre. He did not appear much affected, and after having walked round the assembly he withdrew, and the warlike dancers were renewed. The whole festival was arranged by two old men, relatives of the deceased. They addressed the assembled party and delivered an eulogium on the good qualities of their departed kinswoman. The festival ended with a grand feast, during which the goat which was killed in the morning was eaten. I remarked with pleasure the good order which prevailed throughout the entertainment, which was kept up with great merriment. The young people danced almost the whole of the night. The son of the deceased withdrew from the supper which he had provided for his friends, and came to partake of ours.”

In Sierra Leone when any one dies, if it be a man, the body is stretched out and put in order by men; if a woman, that office is performed by females. Before the corpse is carried out for interment, it is generally put upon a kind of bier composed of sticks formed like a ladder, but having two flat pieces of board for the head and feet to rest upon. This is placed upon the heads of two men, while a third standing before the body, and having in his hand a length of reed called _cattop_, proceeds to interrogate it respecting the cause of its death. He first advances a step or two towards the corpse, shakes the reed over it, and immediately steps back; he then asks a variety of questions, to which assent is signified by the corpse impelling the bearers, as is supposed, towards the man with the reed, while a negative is implied by its producing a kind of rolling motion. It is first asked, “Was your death caused by God on account of your great age and infirmities, or (if a young person) because he liked to take you?” If this question be answered in the affirmative, which is seldom if ever the case, the inquest closes and the burial takes place; if not, the examiner proceeds to enquire, “Was your death caused by your bad actions?” (in other words, on account of your being a witch). If assent be signified, the next question is “By whose griffee (witchery) was it caused--was it by such an one’s or such an one’s?” naming a number of persons in succession, until, at last, an affirmative reply is obtained. The reply generally attributes to the griffee of the head man of the place the merit of destroying the man,--a circumstance which enhances the dread of the power of the head man’s demon, and is supposed to operate in deterring others from evil practices. If it should appear, however, that the decease was not put to death for being “bad,” an expression synonymous with being a witch, the body is asked, “Was your death caused by a man or a woman in such a town (naming a number of towns), belonging to such a family,” naming as many as the enquirer chooses, until an answer has been obtained which fixes the guilt of killing the deceased by witchcraft on one or more individuals. These, if they have friends to plead for them, are allowed the privilege of appealing to one of their witchcraft ordeals in proof of their innocence; but if not, they are sold. A confession of the crime is also followed by being sold for slaves.

The reader has already been made aware of the many curious ceremonies finding favour at Old Kalabar, but on the authority of Mr. Hutchinson, who was frequently an eye-witness of them, the rites connected with their funeral obsequies are the most singular of all: