CHAPTER XX.
FUNERAL RITES.
BURIAL OF THE DEAD — LOCALITIES OF THE TOMBS — THE CHIEF’S LAST RESTING-PLACE — SACRIFICES AND LUSTRATION — BODIES OF CRIMINALS — REPUGNANCE TOWARD DEAD BODIES — ORDINARY RITES — FUNERAL OF A CHILD — THE DEATH AND BURIAL OF MNANDE — HER GENERAL CHARACTER, AND SUSPICIOUS NATURE OF HER ILLNESS — TCHAKA’s BEHAVIOR — ASSEMBLAGE OF THE PEOPLE AND TERRIBLE MASSACRE — MNANDE’S COMPANIONS IN THE GRAVE — THE YEAR OF WATCHING — A STRANGE ORDINANCE — HOW TCHAKA WENT OUT OF MOURNING — A SUMMARY MODE OF SEPULTURE — ABANDONMENT OF THE AGED SICK — MR. GALTON’S STORY.
Closely connected with the religion of any country is the mode in which the bodies of the dead are disposed of.
Burial in the earth is the simplest and most natural mode of disposing of a dead body, and this mode is adopted by the Kaffirs. There are slight variations in the method of interment and the choice of a grave, but the general system prevails throughout Kaffirland. The body is never laid prostrate, as among ourselves; but a circular hole is dug in the ground, and the body is placed in it in a sitting position, the knees being brought to the chin, and the head bent over them. Sometimes, and especially if there should be cause for haste, the Kaffirs select for a grave an ant-hill, which has been ransacked by the great ant-bear or aard-vark, and out of which the animal has torn the whole interior with its powerful claws, leaving a mere oven-shaped shell as hard as a brick. Generally, however, a circular hole is dug, and the body is placed in it, as has been already mentioned. As to the place of burial, that depends upon the rank of the dead person. If he be the head man of a kraal he is always buried in the isi-baya, or cattle enclosure, and the funeral is conducted with much ceremony. During the last few days of illness, when it is evident that recovery is impossible, the people belonging to the kraal omit the usual care of the toilet, allowing their hair to grow as it likes, and abstaining from the use of grease or from washing. The worst clothes are worn, and all ornaments are removed. They also are bound to fast until the funeral, and there is a humane custom that the children are first supplied with an abundant meal, and not until they have eaten are they told of their father’s death.
The actual burial is performed by the nearest relatives, and on such an occasion it is not thought below the dignity of a man to assist in digging the grave. The body is then placed in the grave; his spoon, mat, pillow, and spears are laid beside him: the shafts of the latter are always broken, and the iron heads bent, perhaps from some vague idea that the spirit of the deceased will come out of the earth and do mischief with them. Should he be a rich man, oxen are also killed and placed near him, so that he may go into the land of spirits well furnished with cattle, implements, and weapons. If the person interred should not be of sufficient rank to be entitled to a grave in the isi-baya, he is buried outside the kraal, and over the grave is made a strong fence of stones or thorn-bushes, to prevent the corpse from being disturbed by wild beasts or wizards. As soon as the funeral party returns, the prophet sends the inhabitants of the kraal to the nearest stream, and after they have washed therein he administers some medicine to them, and then they are at liberty to eat and drink, to milk their cattle, and to dress their hair. Those, however, who dug the grave and handled the body of the dead man are obliged to undergo a double course of medicine and lustration before they are permitted to break their fast.
It is not every Kaffir who receives the funeral rites. Those who have been killed by order of the king are considered unworthy of receiving honorable sepulture, and no matter what may be the crime of which they are accused, or whether indeed they have not been killed through some momentary caprice of the despot, their bodies are merely dragged away by the heels into the bush, and allowed to become the prey of the vultures and hyænas. Except when heated by conflict, the Kaffir has an invincible repugnance to touching a dead body, and nothing can show greater respect for the dead than the fact, that the immediate relatives conquer this repugnance, and perform the last office in spite of their natural aversion to such a duty, and with full knowledge of the long and painful fast which they must undergo.
The friends of the family then assemble near the principal hut, and loudly bewail the loss which the kraal has sustained. An ox is killed, and its flesh cooked as a feast for the mourners, the animal itself being offered as a sacrifice to the departed chief. Having finished their banquet, and exhausted all their complimentary phrases toward the dead, they generally become anything but complimentary to the living. Addressing the eldest son, who has now succeeded to his father’s place, they bewail his inexperience, condole with the wives upon their hard lot in being under the sway of one so inferior in every way to the deceased, and give the son plenty of good advice, telling him not to beat any of his mothers if he can keep them in order without manual correction, to be kind to all his brothers and sisters, and to be considerate towards the dependants. They enforce their arguments by copious weeping. Tears always come readily to a Kaffir, but, if there should be any difficulty in shedding them, a liberal use of pungent snuff is sure to produce the desired result.
Such is the mode in which ordinary men and chiefs are buried. The funerals of children are conducted in a much quicker and simpler manner, as may be seen by the following extract from Gardiner’s work on Southern Africa. He is describing the funeral of a child belonging to a Kaffir with whom he was acquainted:—
“After threading an intricate path, and winding about for some little distance, they stopped. Inquiring if that was the spot they had chosen, Kolelwa replied, ‘You must show us.’ On being again told that it was left entirely for his decision, they proceeded a few paces further, and then commenced one of the most distressing scenes I ever witnessed, a father with his own hand opening the ground with his hoe, and scooping out a grave for his own child, assisted only by one of his wives—while the bereaved mother, in the bitterness of her grief, seated under some bushes like another Hagar, watched every movement, but dared not trust herself nearer to the mournful spot.
“When all was prepared Kolelwa returned, with the wife who had assisted him, for the body—Nombuna, the mother, still remaining half concealed among the trees. Everything was conducted so silently that I did not perceive their return, until suddenly turning to the spot I observed the woman supporting the body so naturally upon her lap, as she sat on the ground, that at first I really supposed it had been a living child. Dipping a bundle of leafy boughs into a calabash of water, the body was first washed by the father, and then laid by him in the grave; over which I read a selection from the Burial Service (such portions only as were strictly applicable); concluding with a short exhortation to those who were present. The entire opening was then filled in with large fagots, over which earth was thrown, and above all a considerable pile of thorny boughs and branches heaped, in order to render it secure from the approach of wild animals.”
In strange contrast with this touching and peaceful scene stand the terrible rites by which Tchaka celebrated the funeral of his mother Mnande. It has already been mentioned, on page 124, that Tchaka was suspected, and not without reason, of having been accessory, either actively or passively, to his mother’s death; and it was no secret that she was a turbulent, quarrelsome, bad-tempered woman, and that Tchaka was very glad to be rid of her. Now, although a Kaffir is much despised if he allows his mother to exercise the least authority over him when he has once reached adult age, and though it is thought rather a praiseworthy act than otherwise for a young man to beat his mother, as a proof that he is no more a child, the murder of a parent is looked upon as a crime for which no excuse could be offered.
Irresponsible despot as was Tchaka, he was not so utterly independent of public opinion that he could allow himself to be spoken of as a parricide, and accordingly, as soon as his mother was beyond all chance of recovery, he set himself to work to make his people believe that he was really very sorry for his mother’s illness. In the first place, he cut short a great elephant-hunting party at which he was engaged; and although he was fully sixty miles from the kraal in which his mother was residing, he set off at once, and arrived at home in the middle of the following day. At Tchaka’s request, Mr. Fynn went to see the patient, and to report whether there was any chance of her recovery. His account of the interview and the subsequent ceremonies is as follows:—
“I went, attended by an old chief, and found the hut filled with mourning women, and such clouds of smoke that I was obliged to bid them retire, to enable me to breathe within it. Her complaint was dysentery, and I reported at once to Tchaka that her case was hopeless, and that I did not expect that she would live through the day. The regiments which were then sitting in a semi-circle around him were ordered to their barracks: while Tchaka himself sat for about two hours, in a contemplative mood, without a word escaping his lips; several of the elder chiefs sitting also before him. When the tidings were brought that she had expired, Tchaka immediately arose and entered his dwelling; and having ordered the principal chiefs to put on their war dresses, he in a few minutes appeared in his. As soon as the death was publicly announced, the women and all the men who were present tore instantly from their persons every description of ornament.
“Tchaka now appeared before the hut in which the body lay, surrounded by his principal chiefs, in their war attire. For about twenty minutes he stood in a silent, mournful attitude, with his head bowed upon his shield, on which I saw a few large tears fall. After two or three deep sighs, his feelings becoming ungovernable, he broke out into frantic yells, which fearfully contrasted with the silence that had hitherto prevailed. This signal was enough: the chief and people, to the number of about fifteen thousand, commenced the most dismal and horrid lamentations....
“The people from the neighboring kraals, male and female, came pouring in; each body, as they appeared in sight, at the distance of half a mile, joining to swell the terrible cry. Through the whole night it continued, none daring to take rest or refresh themselves with water; while, at short intervals, fresh bursts were heard as more distant regiments approached. The morning dawned without any relaxation, and before noon the number had increased to about sixty thousand. The cries became now indescribably horrid. Hundreds were lying faint from excessive fatigue and want of nourishment; while the carcasses of forty oxen lay in a heap, which had been slaughtered as an offering to the guardian spirits of the tribe.
“At noon the whole force formed a circle, with Tchaka in their centre, and sang a war song, which afforded them some relaxation during its continuance. At the close of it, Tchaka ordered several men to be executed on the spot, and the cries became, if possible, more violent than ever. No further orders were needed; but, as if bent on convincing their chief of their extreme grief, the multitude commenced a general massacre—many of them received the blow of death while inflicting it on others, each taking the opportunity of revenging his injuries, real or imaginary. Those who could no more force tears from their eyes—those who were found near the river, panting for water—were beaten to death by others mad with excitement. Toward the afternoon I calculated that not fewer than seven thousand people had fallen in this frightful, indiscriminate massacre. The adjacent stream, to which many had fled exhausted to wet their parched tongues, became impassable from the number of dead bodies which lay on each side of it; while the kraal in which the scene took place was flowing with blood.”
On the second day after Mnande’s death her body was placed in a large grave, near the spot where she had died, and ten of the best-looking girls in the kraal were enclosed alive in the same grave. (See the illustration opposite.) Twelve thousand men, all fully armed, attended this dread ceremony, and were stationed as a guard over the grave for a whole year. They were maintained by voluntary contributions of cattle from every Zulu who possessed a herd, however small it might be. Of course, if Tchaka could celebrate the last illness and death of his mother with such magnificent ceremonies, no one would be likely to think that he had any hand in her death. Extravagant as were these rites, they did not quite satisfy the people, and the chiefs unanimously proposed that further sacrifices should be made. They proposed that every one should be killed who had not been present at Mnande’s funeral; and this horrible suggestion was actually carried out, several regiments of soldiers being sent through the country for the purpose of executing it.
Their next proposal was that the very earth should unite in the general mourning, and should not be cultivated for a whole year; and that no one should be allowed either to make or eat amasi, but that the milk should be at once poured out on the earth. These suggestions were accepted; but, after a lapse of three months, a composition was made by large numbers of oxen offered to Tchaka by the chiefs. The last, and most astounding, suggestion was, that if during the ensuing year any child should be born, or even if such an event were likely to occur, both the parents and the child should be summarily executed. As this suggestion was, in fact, only a carrying out, on a large scale, of the principle followed by Tchaka in his own households, he readily gave his consent; and during the whole of the year there was much innocent blood shed.
After the year had expired, Tchaka determined upon another expiatory sacrifice, as a preliminary to the ceremony by which he went out of mourning. This, however, did not take place, owing to the remonstrances of Mr. Fynn, who succeeded in persuading the despot to spare the lives of his subjects. One reason why Tchaka acceded to the request was his amusement at the notion of a white man pleading for the life of “dogs.”
BURIAL OF TCHAKA’S MOTHER.
(See page 202.)
The whole of the able-bodied part of the population had taken warning by the massacre of the previous year, and presented themselves at the ceremony. They were arranged in regiments, and, as soon as the chief made his appearance, they moved simultaneously to the tops of the hills that surrounded the great kraal in which the ceremony was to take place. Upward of a hundred thousand oxen were brought together to grace the ceremony, their bellowing being thought to be a grateful sound to the spirits of the dead. Standing amidst this savage accompaniment to his voice, Tchaka began to weep and sob loudly, the whole assembly echoing the sound, as in duty bound, and making a most hideous din. This noisy rite began in the afternoon, and closed at sunset, when Tchaka ordered a quantity of cattle to be killed for a feast. Next day came the ceremony by which Tchaka was released from his state of mourning. Every man who owned cattle had brought at least one calf with him, and when the king took his place in the centre of the kraal, each man cut open the right side of the calf, tore out the gall-bladder, and left the wretched creature to die. Each regiment then moved in succession before Tchaka, and, as it marched slowly round him, every man sprinkled gall over him. After he had been thus covered with gall, he was washed by the prophets with certain preparations of their own; and with this ceremony the whole proceedings ended, and Tchaka was out of mourning.
It has already been mentioned that in some instances, especially those where the dead have been murdered by command of the king, or have been tortured to death as wizards, the bodies are merely dragged into the bush, and are left to be devoured by the hyænas and the vultures. Cases are also known where a person on the point of death has been thrown into the river by the relatives before life was quite extinct. The actors in these strange tragedies seem to have thought that the dying person need not be particular about an hour more or less in the world, especially as by such a proceeding they freed themselves from the hated duty of handling a dead body. Sometimes those who are sick to death receive even a more horrible treatment than the comparatively merciful death by drowning, or by the jaws of crocodiles; the dying and the very old and infirm being left to perish, with a small supply of food and drink, enough to sustain life for a day or two. Mr. Galton relates one such instance that occurred within his own experience.
“I saw a terrible sight on the way, which has often haunted me since. We had taken a short cut, and were a day and a half from our wagons, when I observed some smoke in front, and rode to see what it was. An immense black-thorn tree was smouldering, and, from the quantity of ashes about, there was all the appearance of its having burnt for a long time. By it were tracks that we could make nothing of—no footmarks, only an impression of a hand here and there. We followed them, and found a wretched woman, most horribly emaciated; both her feet were burnt quite off, and the wounds were open and unhealed. Her account was that, many days back, she and others were encamping there; and when she was asleep, a dry but standing tree, which they had set fire to, fell down and entangled her among its branches: there she was burnt before she could extricate herself, and her people left her. She had since lived on gum alone, of which there were vast quantities about: it oozes down from the trees, and forms large cakes in the sand. There was water close by, for she was on the edge of a river-bed. I did not know what to do with her; I had no means of conveying her anywhere, nor any place to convey her to.
“The Damaras kill useless and worn-out people—even sons smother their sick fathers; and death was not far from her. I had three sheep with me; so I off-packed, and killed one. She seemed ravenous; and, though I purposely had off-packed some two hundred yards from her, yet the poor wretch kept crawling and dragging herself up to me, and would not be withheld, for fear I should forget to give her the food I promised. When it was ready, and she had devoured what I gave her, the meat acted as it often does in such cases, and fairly intoxicated her; she attempted to stand, regardless of the pain, and sang, and tossed her lean arms about. It was perfectly sickening to witness the spectacle. I did the only thing I could; I cut the rest of the meat in strips, and hung it within her reach, and where the sun would jerk (i. e. dry and preserve) it. It was many days’ provision for her. I saw she had water, firewood, and gum in abundance, and then I left her to her fate.”
This event took place among the Damaras; but Captain Gardiner mentions that among the Zulus a dying woman was carried into the bush, and left there to perish in solitude. That such a custom does prevail is evident, and it is likely that it may be more frequently practised than is generally supposed. People of rank are tended carefully enough during sickness; but men and women of low condition, especially if they are old and feeble, as well as prostrated with sickness, are not likely to have much chance of being nursed in a country where human life is so little valued.