By Sheer Pluck: A Tale of the Ashanti WarHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
General
By Sheer Pluck: A Tale of the Ashanti War
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
Ashanti war, 1873-1874 -- Juvenile fiction
The king examined the pieces with great attention, and, at his request,
Mr. Goodenough fired off the whole contents of the magazine of the
repeating rifle, whose action caused the greatest astonishment to
the assembled chiefs. The king then intimated his acceptance of the
presents, and said that he would speak farther with them on a future
occasion. He informed them that they were free to move about in the town
where they wished, and that the greatest respect would be shown to them
by the people. There was a fresh outburst of wild music, and they were
then conducted back to their house.
After the assembly had dispersed the two Englishmen walked about through
the town. It was not of great extent, but the streets were broad and
well kept. Many of the houses were much larger than that allotted to
them, but all were built on the same plan. It was evident that the great
mass of the population they saw about must live in villages scattered
around, the town being wholly insufficient to contain them.
Three days afterwards they were told that the king wished to see them in
his palace. This was a large building situated at the extremity of the
town. It was constructed of stone, and was evidently built from European
designs. It was square, with a flat roof and embattled parapet. They
were conducted through the gateway into a large courtyard, and then into
a hall where the king sat upon a raised throne. Attendants stood round
fanning him.
“Why,” he asked abruptly as they took their places before him, “do the
English take my town of Elmina?”
Mr. Goodenough explained that he had been nine months absent from the
coast, and that having come straight out from England he was altogether
unaware of what had happened at Elmina.
“Elmina is mine,” the king said. “The Dutch, who were my tributaries,
had no right to hand it over to the English.”
“But I understood, your majesty, that the English were ready to pay an
annual sum, even larger than that which the Dutch have contributed.”
“I do not want money,” the king said. “I have gold in plenty. There
are places in my dominions where ten men in a day can wash a thousand
ounces. I want Elmina, I want to trade with the coast.”
“But the English will give your majesty every facility for trade.”
“But suppose we quarrel,” the king said, “they can stop powder and guns
from coming up. If Elmina were mine I could bring up guns and powder at
all times.”
“Your majesty would be no better off,” Mr. Goodenough said; “for the
English in case of war could stop supplies from entering.”
“My people will drive them into the sea,” the king said. “We have been
troubled with them too long. They can make guns, but they cannot fight.
My people will eat them up. We fought them before; and see,” he said
pointing to a great drum, from the edge of which hung a dozen human
skulls, “the heads of the White men serve to make a fetish for me.”
He then waved his hand to signify that the audience was terminated.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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