Previously to her swallowing the poison, the favourite wife of a deceased chief or ruler destroys privately all the wealth, or rather money of her former partner, in order that it may not fall into the hands of her successor.  The same custom is observed at Badagry also, and although the king’s son may be of age at the period of his father’s death, he inherits his authority and influence only.  He is left to his own sagacity and exertions to procure wealth, which can seldom be obtained without rapine, enslavement, and bloodshed.

Whenever a town is deprived of its chief, the inhabitants acknowledge no law; anarchy, troubles, and confusion immediately prevail, and until a successor is appointed, all labour is at an end.  The stronger oppress the weak, and perpetrate every species of crime, without being amenable to any tribunal for their actions.  Private property is no longer respected, and thus, before a person arrives to curb its licentiousness, a town is not unfrequently reduced from a flourishing state of prosperity and of happiness to all the horrors of desolation.

Considerable surprise was now excited at the delay of the messenger, who was sent to Badagry for the horses, on which they placed so much value, for he had not yet returned, although he promised to be back in four days from the time of his departure.  As he had exceeded the time by a whole day, and being a native of Badagry, the travellers had given up all hopes of again seeing either him or the horse, or even the message sword they had lent him as a token that he had been sent by them.  Positive assurances were given them that leave would be granted to depart from Jenna on the following week, but as they had only one horse, they would be obliged to take it in turns to ride, or procure a hammock, which it would be a difficult thing to get, and attended with considerable expense.

In the mean time, the devoted old queen dowager engrossed the chief part of their attention, although her doom was inevitably fixed, yet her cheerfulness appeared rather to increase, and she seemed determined to spin out her thread of life to its utmost limit; spies were now set over her, and she was not permitted to go out of the yard.

On Monday the 12th of April, the travellers had the customary visit to their yard of a long line of women, who came every morning with rueful countenances and streaming eyes to lament the approaching death of the old widow.  They wept, they beat their breast and tore their hair; they moaned, and exhibited all manner of violent affliction at the expected deprivation.  Perhaps their sorrow was sincere, perhaps it was feigned; at all events their lamentations were ungovernable and outrageous; the first woman in the line begins the cry, and is instantly followed by the other voices; the opening notes of the lamentation were rather low and mournful, the last wild and piercing.