The Two Hearts of Kwasi Boachi: A Novel

by Arthur Japin

  The king, he continued, had sent him to request humbly that the embassy be patient until 10 February. He assured us that His Highness would have received the emissaries of any other nation, thereby exposing them to evil influences, but not their beloved Hollanders.

  Since the market for the multitude of persons in our company was very poorly supplied with provisions, the royal broadcaster known as Thjoucho arrived the following day to announce to all the inhabitants of this and all other settlements in the area that they had a duty, so long as the embassy sojourned in these parts, to bring all victuals and other stocks to the market daily. The prices had been fixed and it was decreed that anyone avoiding these duties would be punished in keeping with certain laws. The usual punishment consists of cutting off one or both ears for a first o fence and the loss of nose or lips for recidivist behaviour. From then on the market was amply supplied daily with all provisions, for the duration of our sojourn.

  We departed at last on the 10th and arrived in Kasi at two o’clock. The following day we received a visit from the king of the lands of Becquin, the second in the Ashanti Empire. He was clothed in his warrior’s dress, made up of a colourful jerkin, ditto hose, sandals with heavy gold rims and a cap made of tiger skin with attached tail. On the 12th we proceeded to Faverhan, where we received notice that we could enter Kumasi the following day.

  The next morning, 13 February, we set out for the capital at seven o’clock in full regalia, followed by the men bearing our gifts for His Highness. The capital is surrounded by marshland, which was flooded at the time with 10 to 15 inches of water. This caused further delay. We officers were conveyed over the water one by one, which took fifteen minutes each. At last we arrived at the outpost of Kumasi, where we were joined by the slaves bearing gifts for H.H., who had travelled ahead of us. We wished to proceed on our journey as soon as possible, but were obliged to halt for a large band of guards-men. Verveer declared that it was not fitting to keep us waiting any longer, after so many disappointments. Messengers kept coming with requests to wait a little longer, and eventually we sent notice that if we were not permitted to proceed at once, we would return to Faverhan and indeed would return home without concluding our mission. The reply to this was that H.H. was seated, and that the procession might advance within a short time.

  We retorted that the meaning of their “short time” was most unclear and that we did not comprehend why, if all was in readi- ness, we were still obliged to wait. We decided to continue our advance without their permission. We arrayed the slaves in such a manner that the numerous gifts appeared to best advantage. Major-General Verveer instructed the brass band to play the national anthem and we made our way through the crowd of armed men with considerable e fort. The guards however did not obstruct us. We proceeded from the outpost and completed the last leg of our journey in one-quarter-hour. To everyone’s dis- pleasure our previous delay turned out to have been unnecessary. Both the king and his grandees had been seated in readiness all morning, and their boredom had reached such proportions that foolish children’s rhymes were being chanted to while away the long hours of waiting.

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  Thirteen pale-faced musicians emerged from the trees. They generated such a pandemonium as Kwame and I had only ever heard from the coppersmiths on a busy workday. Birds flew up in fright. Yet the pounding rhythm sent a ripple through the crowd: all around us muscles were flexed and bodies started swaying to the blasts of noise.

  The musicians were followed by a standard-bearer, a party of white servants in hunting gear and one hundred black slaves in pairs. Each pair carried a litter laden with gifts: Chinese fans and vials of scent, Brussels lace and soap from Cologne, champagne, ginger, jams and preserved fruit. There were also costly textiles, gold fringes, gold braid and silver thread. A length of poppy-red serge was draped around a marble statue of Psyche: this creature, half bird and half man, was so white as to seem luminous. Three litters were laden with Dutch gin in stoneware crocks. There was Malaga wine in abundance and liqueur in mahogany casks. A handsome pair of handguns with attributes was presented to my father, as well as a silver-inlaid walnut case containing a hunting rifle with decorative facings, and lastly an open-work cuirass overlaid with silver and gold.

  The band struck up again when the gifts were put on display. A lavish palanquin borne by six slaves appeared at the bend in the road. On it sat a man in full regalia, shaded by a dazzling orange awning. An interpreter announced him as His Majesty’s highest servant, Major-General Verveer, Governor-General of the Dutch East-Indian Army, envoy of King Willem I of the Netherlands. Two red, white and blue Dutch flags fluttered behind him, partly screening the next palanquins from view. One of these was occupied by a man who seemed less intent on making an impression of grandeur. He even looked somewhat embarrassed, and in this he was distinct from the others. His name was announced as Deputy Commissioner van Drunen.

  Then came a straggling party of several hundred porters and men with chopping knives, which were by now blunted from cutting a path in the forest. Bringing up the rear were a number of slaves bearing what appeared to be large chunks of stone and columns of marble which they carried over their shoulders with incomprehensible ease, as if they possessed the strength of gods.

  Until then all the uburuni we had known had been harmless and laughable: white men with ever-sweaty faces which they kept mopping to no avail. The shade of their skin was that of a corpse. Word had it that the smell they gave off was the same. These envoys would set about mastering some ingratiating words of Twi in the hope of gaining a residue of gold dust or—until this was prohibited by their government—a small consignment of superannuated slaves. And once they had paid for their acquisitions with far too many rifles, they would stagger away, blissfully drunk on palm wine. Their constitutions were frail, and in the place behind the palace gardens where men go to relieve themselves they were more likely to be seen vomiting than passing water. But on the whole they were not troublesome.

  This time, however, a white man was being carried aloft. Until then this had been my father’s privilege, the only exception having been made for Kwame’s father when he returned victorious and his warriors vied for the honour of bending their backs to bear Adusei Kra. And here was a white man borne by six black backs. This had never been seen in Kumasi. I stole a glance at the Asantehene, expecting him to take punitive measures. He did not bat an eyelid.

  When the whole delegation was in formation, my father accepted his gifts and gave the signal for leave-taking, without granting Verveer so much as a glance. This gave rise to some consternation among the Hollanders. In order to attract attention to themselves they ordered the band to strike up yet again. That helped. Kwaku Dua halted and listened. Verveer declared through his interpreter that this piece of music had been composed for the occasion and that it was entitled “March for the King of Ashanti.” But I looked in the eyes of his officers and knew this was a lie. Years later I recognized the tune as part of Der Freischütz, a rousing piece of music by von Weber, which was played to general acclaim at parades in Vienna and Paris.

  My father was won over. The guests were directed to a stone building with a Dutch tricolour flying from the roof. It had been erected, the Asantehene informed them through his speaker, especially for the Hollanders. Another lie.

  When the Dutch officials presented themselves that afternoon we made them wait for a suitable length of time. They carried their own chairs, which they put down in the forecourt, and there was a moment of alarm when they almost turned back because they deemed the place unfitting for their station and because they were not received forthwith. My father sent some dignitaries to explain that the European measurement of hours was unknown to us. Consequently they were invited to come back the next morning.

  The following day Verveer again presented my father with a cuirass. The resident of Fort Axim put it on and strutted about to display the beautiful workmanship. My father put his thumb in his mouth and gave several shouts of admir
ation, but stayed on guard nonetheless. He asked if the cuirass did not warrant the use of epaulettes, whereupon Verveer removed his and handed them to my father, which was precisely what he had in mind. The Hollander was over-confident. He let it be known that it was customary in his homeland to find the doors of friends open to them, while the doors of enemies would be opened by force of arms. Needless to say, the next morning, 15 February, the palace gates remained closed to him.

  From van Drunen’s report:

  By the 16th the Asantehene showed himself to be more accommodating, and sent us eight persons from his court accompanied by four speakers. They came bringing gold dust: 6 ounces 8 English pounds for the governor; 2 ounces 8 Eng. for his second in command; the secretary, resident and physician together received 4 ounces 8 Eng.; the assistant and interpreter together 1 ounce 2 Eng.; the white servants 9 Eng.; the black servants 9 Eng. Altogether 16 ounces 9 Eng. gold dust, all wrapped in fine silken cloths. This did not add up to a one hundredth fraction of the expenses of our expedition! Also an ox, a pig, six sheep, ten guinea fowl, and two hundred chicken eggs were brought. In addition ten slaves arrived with a supply of pineapples, eight with sugar cane, forty-six with yams, fourteen with African nuts, fourteen others with sundry vegetables. One thousand and twenty-five slaves were laden with bananas, twenty-one with firewood and two with palm wine, making up a total of eleven hundred and forty bearers. In the meantime jesters arrived, mainly repulsive dwarfs and hunchbacks, who lurched about for the purpose of amusing Verveer. To no avail.

  But on the 17th the governor-general made a cunning move to speed up the ceremonials. Having presented the Asantehene with champagne, confectioneries, toilet water, two pier glasses, two flower vases and a mantel clock, the governor-general requested permission to present the king’s son with a gift, too. A timid youth, not fully grown, stepped forward. Verveer handed this child, Kwasi Boachi, a dagger, declaring that he should use it in defence of his Fatherland and the Ashanti people. In jest he conferred the rank of general upon the boy. The king was visibly moved. Before we departed, the king ordered an organ, of which the pipes were broken, to be brought to us with the request to repair it, which demand we were of course unable to satisfy. Then H.H. requested us to dance for him; however, we replied that white men are not accustomed to leap about on an earthen floor.

  On 19 February at two o’clock Verveer received word that Kwaku Dua I was on his way. The members of the band arranged themselves in a semicircle and launched into the so-called “March for the King of Ashanti.” The retainers of H.H. were so numerous that most of them were obliged to remain outside. Only Kwame Poku, the king’s nephew and heir to the throne, and his son Kwasi Boachi, were admitted, along with nine young girls belonging to the royal family. The king and his courtiers were heavily laden with gold; the former was literally bowed down by the weight. A porcelain jug of palm wine was brought and two golden-eared calabashes. When H.H. took a draught of wine, his trusted slaves held a bowl under his chin into which he deliberately spilled some liquid from his mouth: this spillage was eagerly drunk by them. When H.H. spat on the ground, we saw his bodyguards take up the royal fluid and rub it into their skins. We presented H.H. with portraits of our own royal family and a camera obscura.

  The negotiations were now underway and proceeded during the following days with varying degrees of success, but at this time Verveer fell ill. His condition declined by the day. He su fered greatly and we began to understand why these regions are known as “the white man’s grave.”

  On 26 February we took a stroll in the night and I tripped over some obstacle in my path. The orderlies escorting us lowered their lanterns and to our horror we saw three freshly severed heads of young negroes lying before me. It was the great feast day of the fetish named Ady, on which occasion it is customary for all to shake hands with the king and his grandees. Preceded by our musicians we made haste to join the ceremony, but could barely reach H.H. through the dense crowd. A large number of people were sacrificed on the graves of the royal family that day. This ceremony was performed once each month.1

  Although Kwame and I were informed of the progress of the negotiations, we were indifferent to their nature. We amused ourselves with the gifts and enjoyed the attention that was lavished on us. The Dutch dagger, given to me by Verveer, was my very first weapon. Kwame and I took turns to wear it. Our delight pleased my father. This gift in particular softened him towards the Hollanders, who understood that they had succeeded in influencing the Asantehene’s mood through his son. From then on there was an unspoken connection between me and the negotiations.

  The governor-general’s illness lasted for two weeks. This was taken to be a sign that our gods were not in favour of his mission. Nevertheless van Drunen and the other officers succeeded in bringing the affair to a satisfactory conclusion. A contract was drawn up: in exchange for firearms the Asantehene promised to supply the Dutch agent Huydecoper with one thousand male slaves/recruits annually. (Slaves slash recruits, a script notation that would earn the Dutch much international notoriety and an official complaint, served against them by England, for infracting the law against slave trading.)

  As a token of goodwill, Kwaku Dua was promptly issued with 2000 rifles, valued at 32,500 guilders, and 812½ ounces of gold. He was left in no doubt as to the expectation that, prior to the delegation’s departure, a similar token of goodwill would come from him. My father acceded to this and promised to reflect on a suitable collateral for his side of the contract.

  Not until 13 March was Verveer’s health sufficiently restored for him to sign his name to the terms of agreement. My father put a cross on the document. Now that their mission had been accomplished, the Hollanders were anxious to return as soon as possible. My father invited them to stay another forty days. Verveer declined the offer with as much civility as he could muster, and the date of their return was set for seven days later.

  During that final week Kwame and I spent most of our time with the delegation. Each day we presented ourselves at the guests’ quarters, where we were entertained with games. We were, for instance, given brightly coloured playing cards with pictures of Holland and taught to play Snap. In the darkened officers’ tent we were regaled with magic-lantern shows. Wolves and giants loomed inexplicably on the canvas. The moving figures and their adventures became just as dear to us as our own tales of Spider Anansi.

  Another favourite haunt of ours was the building site by the palace gate, where the Hollanders had made a clearing in a forest in readiness for the construction of a vast Greek temple. Eight Corinthian columns were erected on five tall steps. The richly ornamented altar, four giant urns, and capitals adorned with open-work acanthus leaves all gave the impression of weight and solidity. We offered our help and surprised the other children in the family by lifting great chunks of marble above our heads. In reality the entire structure was made of wood, painted to resemble marble, and had been transported all the way from Holland in sections ready for assembly. The wood, which had got wet during the passage across the marshland, was becoming warped in the dry air of Kumasi, and the Hollanders had great difficulty fitting the sections together.

  Among our new toys there was one that held a particular fascination for me: a shiny board with carved figurines of ivory and ebony. Van Drunen took it upon himself to teach us the game, which I found more appealing than our wari, at which I nearly always lost to Kwame. As we did not yet speak a common language and the interpreter was needed elsewhere, this good man sat himself down on the ground with us and explained the rules and skills of the game by means of hand-signals. While we were thus engaged he acquired his first knowledge of Twi by imitating the words we spoke, and we in turn learnt our first halting words of Dutch. The guttural pronunciation of the Dutch terms for the chess game sounded especially hilarious to our ears.

  Kwame was drawn primarily to the carved figurines themselves. He gave names to them and, in contravention of all the rules, pretended that they kissed each other and
gave birth to infant pawns. As for me, I was filled with a passionate desire to comprehend van Drunen’s moves, to learn how to predict them and surpass him in mental prowess.

  Van Drunen also devoted an entire afternoon to exciting our interest in another use of the chessboard. With a few words and many gestures he demonstrated to us the wondrous multiplication of a grain of wheat. On the first black square he laid a single grain, on the white square next to it two grains, on the following squares four and sixteen grains respectively. While he was counting out the two hundred and fifty-six for the fifth square, Kwame’s interest flagged and he wandered off in search of someone to tell him a story with the magic lantern. But I wanted van Drunen to go on. When he saw that the principle was dawning on me, he traced what were to me then incomprehensible ciphers in the sand, and enthusiastically poured two handfuls of grain on the board, thereby flooding all the squares. Then he brushed off all the grains, pointed to the heap of wheat and the ciphers in the sand by turns, and then stabbed his finger meaningfully at the sixth square. I jumped up, took the sack of wheat from him and emptied the contents over the chessboard. Van Drunen slapped his thighs and roared with laughter, shook my hand and called some sergeants to tell them what I had done. Then I brushed the grains away again and stared at the many squares which still needed filling, racking my brains to understand the mystery I had just been demonstrated. Although I could not find an explanation nor the words to express what I had observed, I had been stirred by intimations of a world existing outside the one I knew. I felt the same excitement as during our initiation rites with the fetish priests. When I raised my eyes I saw the soldiers grinning at my emotion. Their amusement embarrassed me deeply. I realized that this was familiar ground to them, and that I was looking in from the outside. This was not the only secret knowledge they shared, and they were tickled as much by my exclusion as by their power either to reveal or withhold a subsequent secret.