What changes these factory-forts have seen, beginning with the days of the jolly old Hollanders, who, in doublets and trunk-hose, held high state, commanding large garrisons and ruling the rulers of the land. What banquets, what carousals, with sopies of the best schiedam, and long clay-pipes stuffed with the finest tobacco, when an exceptional haul of gold-dust or captives had come to hand! But Time got the better of them; the abolition of the export slave-trade cut the ground from under their feet; diminished profits made economy necessary, and the forts were allowed to become the shadows of their former selves. Then came the cession to England, when all appeared running on the road to ruin. Now, however, things are again changed, and 'Resurgam' may be written upon these scenes of decay. The Mines will once more make the fortune of the Gold Coast, and the old buildings will become useful as hospitals, and store-houses, and barracoons for coolie emigrants.
The Béin fort has been repaired and whitewashed inside by the lessees, Messieurs Swanzy, whose agent, Mr. Carr, we found here in possession. Unlike Axim, it still preserves intact the outer work with its dwarf belfry over the strong doorway. But the cistern in the middle of this slave-court must make the cleanly old Netherlanders turn in their tombs.
Opposite the fort is the normal school-room, occasionally served by Mr. Graham, of Atábo; Béin has a tide-waiter, but no pedagogue. Beyond it rises the large and uneven swish-house of the 'King,' who has lately been summonsed, as a defaulting debtor, to Cape Coast Castle: the single black policeman who served the writ evidently looked upon us as his colleagues. The people eyed us with no friendly glances; they were 'making custom' for the ruler's return. The vague phrase denoted, in this case, a frantic battering of drums, big and little; a squeaking of scrannel pipes; a feminine 'break-down' of the most effrénée description, and a general libation to the Bacchus of Blackland. A debauched and drunken Ashanti, who executed for our benefit a decapitation-dance, evidently wishing that we had been its objects, thanked us ironically for a sixpence. We met some difficulty in seeing the swords, which were not to be sold. They were the usual rusty and decayed fish-slicers; Cameron, however, was kind enough to sketch them for me, and they will appear in my coming book.
Most of the adult males had travelled inland to the Tákwá or French mines, where the Apollonians bear the highest reputation. Whole gangs flock to the diggings, bringing their own provisions and implements. Thus they have begun working on tribute and contracting for piece-work. [Footnote: This information was given to me by M. Plisson, traffic-manager to the Company.] This is a favourable phase of the labour-question. At the same time it is clear that the labourer can easily keep the richest specimens for himself and palm off the worst stuff upon the stranger.
Here we are next door to the Ivory Coast, and elephants, they say, are still to be found within two days north of Béin. The hunters cross a broad stream (the Tando?) and a dry swamp; they then enter an uninhabited forest; and, after a couple of marches, they reach the animals' haunts. Small tusks are at times brought in, but no Europeans, so far as I know, ever killed a tusker in these wilds. My informants heard that a route from Béin leads to Gyáman, and that it may be travelled without difficulty.
The following note, by Mr. Edward L. McCarthy, describes an excursion from Béin to the unvisited Essuá-tí, made by him in August 1881:—
'Accompanied by Prince John Coffee, heir to King Blay, three other chiefs, their servants, and my own party of Krumen, we left the town of Béin, Apollonia, to go up to the village in the bush called Essuá-tí. Half a mile from the town we found canoes awaiting us, and in these we were poled along for over half an hour over what in the dry season is a native path, but now a narrow channel of water winding about in a dense jungle of reeds. Here and there we came upon small hillocks covered with trees, in which numerous monkeys sported about. Emerging from these reeds, one broad sheet of water presented itself to the eye, encircled by a low shore fringed with canes, bush, and palm-trees, and at its western extremity a range of hills rose out of the background. The lagoon receives several small streams, and empties itself into the sea by the Ebumesu river, its mouth being about half-way between Béin and the Ancobra. According to the natives the river used to be navigable to its mouth, but of late years has become overgrown with reeds. A few years back they set to work to cut a channel through them, but getting tired of the work gave it up. The length of the lagoon appears to be about three to four miles, and about one to one and a half in breadth. Its major axis runs parallel to the coastline, or nearly due east and west. Twenty minutes' paddling brought us round the point of a small headland, where we came in sight of a pretty lake-village built upon piles, at some little distance from the shore, the whole forming a most picturesque and animated scene. From house to house canoes laden with people, plantains, &c., were passing to and fro; groups of villagers, some standing, others sitting, upon the raised bamboo-platforms outside their houses, were busy bartering fish for plantains, while the children played around, apparently unconscious of any danger from falling into the water. The settlement consisted of over forty houses, mostly of bamboo, a few of "swish," forming one long irregular line, and three or four standing away from the rest round a corner of land, after the Fanti custom. These houses were built on a bamboo-platform supported by piles, and raised above the water some three and a half feet. One half of the platform is covered by the house; the other half, left free, is used to fish from, for the children to play about on, and for receptions when palavers are held.
'The distance from the shore varies with the overflow of the lake, at the time of my visit about thirty to forty yards, though for miles beyond this the ground was saturated with water, whose depth varied from three and a half to nine feet. The piles are made of stout sticks; the mode of driving them in is to lash two canoes abreast by means of two sticks or paddles, placed transversely, leaving an open space of about two and a half feet between them. Two men in each canoe, and facing each other, then vigorously twist and churn about the pole, or rather stick, into the soft bottom of the lagoon. Some fifteen of these poles are thus driven in and firmly braced together by cross-pieces, upon which the platform is constructed, and on this again the house is built.
'We stopped here to breakfast before ascending the Bousaha River; and, while so doing, I counted at one time over forty natives sitting round us on the platform. I was not without my fears that we should all be precipitated into the water, but the structure, though in appearance frail and very rude, was far stronger than what it looked.
'I closely questioned the natives as to why they had built their village upon the lake, and they invariably gave as their reason that they chiefly fished at night; and, as the water often overflowed, they would have to build their houses too far away to be able to come and go during the night; whereas "now," they said, "we are close to where we catch our fish, and we often catch them even from our houses." Underneath each house were tied from one to five, and sometimes more, canoes. These were much lighter, more rounded off in the keel, stem, and stern, than the beach-canoes.