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The Highlands of Ethiopia

Chapter 183: Volume Two—Chapter Forty Five.
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About This Book

The narrative recounts the author's official embassy and travels through the Ethiopian highlands, combining geographic description, ethnographic observation, and accounts of encounters with local institutions and customs. The text explains editorial decisions: arranging material topically rather than as a strict journal, grouping medical and diplomatic services into thematic chapters, and revising narrative voice between editions. The author responds to contemporary criticisms about style, accuracy, and novelty, defends a more ornate descriptive register, and acknowledges possible errors while aiming to present a coherent, literary picture of the region and the mission's activities.

Volume Two—Chapter Forty Two.

Thermal Wells at Feelámba.

The day following our victory over the monarch of the forest was passed in the laborious operation of hewing out the ponderous tusks, each of which formed the load of a donkey, and was valued at one hundred German crowns. A strong force was in attendance to keep the peace; and owing to the inferiority of the tools at command, and the existing necessity of cutting completely through the head to the root of the lower tusk, which was half-buried in the soil with the violence of the fall, the trophies were not borne off until the sun had set. The wounded man had meanwhile been conveyed to the camp for surgical aid. The edges of the laceration in his thigh had been by an amateur practitioner neatly brought together with acacia thorns fastened by threads of wiry grass; and a handful of silver easily reconciled the patient to a few weeks of confinement to his bed.

An Armenian, acting in capacity of dragoman to the Embassy, had been the Esculapius—a man who, without the smallest pretensions, gratuitously set up also to be a first-rate Nimrod; and the merriment made throughout this day at his expense had covered him with confusion. When setting out from Ankóber with a borrowed musket, he had rubbed his hands and feigned the highest spirits at the prospect of resuming his “old sport,” for he had slain elephants by the dozen in Northern Abyssinia; and their tails, he contended, “like the tails of all elephants, were not tufted at the extremity, as I asserted, but covered with long hair, after the fashion of the horse!” A mouse wandering from an adjacent granary at Dokáket, and unwisely scampering over his bed, fell a sacrifice to the well-aimed staff of the hero, who, by virtue of this brilliant exploit, stuck a white feather in his hair, and whooped the war-song during half the ensuing march.

Nevertheless, in the course of the first day’s unsuccessful hunting, he had been seen to hide himself in a manner far from creditable to his nerves; he had been heard to exert his voice in earnest supplications for assistance at the rumoured approach of the animal for whose life he had previously affected to thirst; and when at last actually confronted with the defunct monster, he was fain to confess that he had only once beheld a live elephant “from the summit of a very high tree, when he discharged his matchlock as the beast retreated, and the people declared that it would die.”

This curious confession on the part of the impostor, whose statements had heretofore been credited, led to further disclosures. He had been addicted to shooting at hyenas by night in the suburbs of Adowa; and having once been so fortunate as to overturn the object at which he fired, he flew enraptured to the spot, and was somewhat disagreeably surprised to find a Christian man weltering in blood, which flowed from a perforation through the heart. For this untoward murder he was sentenced to pay two hundred pieces of salt, by Oubié the usurper, who, however fond of putting his own subjects to death, permitted no one else to do so with impunity; and being unable to raise the amount of this fine among his numerous friends, he wisely adopted the alternative of flight.

In Shoa he set up as a physician, and practised medicine, until so many patients died under his hands, that the king was compelled to issue an interdiction. It formed the veteran’s boast, that although well stricken in years, he could still bolt ten pounds of raw beef at one sitting, whereas, if subjected to a culinary process, three were more than he could contrive with comfort. Notwithstanding all his exaggerations, he had witnessed strange sights, which are but too well corroborated. He had seen the monster Oubié, when his conscience was stained by fewer foul crimes than it now is, put out the eyes of his elder brother, who, as the searing-iron hissed over the unflinching orbs, thanked God that he had so long been spared the use of them; and he had seen Ras Subagádis, under whom he once held a petty government in Tigré, executed by the hands of a pagan Galla, who undertook the task for some bread and a barille of hydromel, after numerous Amhára had refused to become headsman to so humane a prince.

Every object in visiting Giddem having been fully and satisfactorily accomplished, we bade adieu to the hospitable old governor, whose parting request was, that he might be favourably mentioned to his royal master. This I unhesitatingly promised; and Ayto Elbeshár was deputed to lead the way to the celebrated thermal springs of Feelámba, situated within his government, and which I had determined to visit as we returned to Ankóber. Descending by an extremely steep footpath to a deep dell below the Aito hill, the road wound above a mile along the sunken channel of the narrow river, through which meandered a rippling brook of crystal water, varied at intervals by miniature cascades, and shaded throughout its tortuous course by trees and flowering creepers of luxuriant beauty. In an angle formed by a sudden bend are the hot wells, five in number, rising at some distance from each other—the remnants of old volcanic action, which has long entirely disappeared in other parts of its theatre, but has left behind it, in this secluded and highly picturesque spot, a salubrious fountain of life.

Aragáwi, the most celebrated of these springs, derives its name from one of the nine missionaries of the Greek church, who, at the close of the fifth century, completed the conversion of Abyssinia during the reign of Alámeda. He is styled also Za Michael; and is said to have been conveyed on the tail of a huge serpent to the summit of the lofty and then inaccessible rock on Debra Dámo, where he founded a convent, of which he is the tutelar saint, and which is still one of the most renowned in Ethiopia. It is recorded of Aragáwi that he raised the dead, and caused the blind to see; and among the manifold notable miracles ascribed to him, the not least remarkable is the conversion to Christianity of the Devil himself, whom he persuaded to take the monastic cap for forty years!

Selássie, the Holy Trinity, is another open pool or basin situated close to Aragáwi, and like it rising in bubbles from the sandy bank and bed of the stream. In both the temperature stood at 118 degrees of Fahrenheit. Mariam, the blessed Virgin, at 115 degrees, issues from a cave, provided with a rude door, and partitioned by a bar of wood into two cells for new and old complaints, and in these patients were in the act of immersion. Abbo, at 120 degrees, percolates from the centre of a steep bank of soft red sandstone, covering basaltic wacke, through an artificial spout inserted for the convenience of drinking the waters. Numbers of dreadfully diseased wretches, the lame, the halt, and the blind, who were here assembled, with victims who had suffered under the Galla knife, formed a horrible spectacle, which called vividly to mind the scriptural account of the pool of Bethesda.

The superintendence of the numerous patients who thus flock hither to undergo the discipline of the baths, is limited to the collection of one piece of salt, value two-pence halfpenny sterling, for the use of the wells, which are believed to possess the highest sanative virtues in a great variety of disorders. The waters possess a slight taste and smell of sulphuretted hydrogen; but they may be drunk hot from the spring without creating nausea. There is no precipitate whatever; and not five yards from their source they mingle with a strong current of cold pure mountain water, to which no perceptible alteration is imparted in colour, temperature, or taste.

Here we obtained many rare and beautiful birds; amongst others, the Adagoota, a superb black-crested falcon, which had been first seen in the wilderness of Giddem. Following the course of the Feelámba to its junction with the Jow-wahá, whereof it forms the principal source, the main road was gained at no great distance from the ford, and the steep Gozi range again surmounted to the village of Telim Amba. It is situated on a height divided by a deep valley from the opposite residence of the governor of Mahhfood, whose lady presently sent me, through a slave girl, the expression of her regret, that “the king’s guests” should have chosen to halt at so great a distance; and although it exceeded four miles, she finally insisted upon supplying us with a huge pepper pie, and other ready-cooked provisions. “You might eat these,” was the message delivered by the Abigail: “they were prepared for you, but you have taken another road.”

On the banks of the Robi we had again met Ayto Abaiyo, superintending operations at one of the royal threshing-floors, where all the inhabitants of the district were assembled; and self-interested motives induced him very uncivilly to oppose a day’s hunting on that river, upon the score of alleged hostilities with Anbássa Ali. In order to free himself from any further importunity, he clandestinely instructed our guide to lead us by the most direct route, and hence arose the offence which I had committed against the “Emabiet.”


Volume Two—Chapter Forty Three.

Return to Ankóber.

An extremely steep and infamous road, intersected by numerous mountain torrents, brought us the following day to Arámba. After crossing the district of Arraba Amba, which pays tribute to the crown in agates, whereof numbers of the form adapted for gun-flints are picked up on the face of the soil, the path wound above three miles along the channel of the river Shonkorghie, or “Sugar-sides,” which takes its source in the Turmáber range, and during the rains becomes quite impassable. On its borders the blackberry and the corinda abounded, both in full fruit. The scenery was especially beautiful; and in a romantic glen, partially secluded by a grove of tall trees, among which the green and crimson “zoreet” displayed its gorgeous plumage, stood the picturesque church and monastery of “Our Lady.”

Arámba was taken from the Areeo Galla by Abiyé, third monarch of Shoa; and now containing a large portion of the treasures amassed by Sáhela Selássie and his ancestors, is garrisoned by a strong detachment of gunmen, and entrusted to the custody of a governor, and of a Shálaka, or captain of a thousand. No stranger is permitted to enter the village without first giving the personal security of one of the inhabitants; and access is not under any circumstances allowed to the stronghold, which occupies the apex of a rocky ridge, possessing great natural strength. Here, in a succession of long barn-like buildings, are consigned to mould and cobwebs, and jealously guarded, every civilised invention received by the despot, which could in any way tend to the advancement or improvement of his people.

Our camp was formed on a small level terrace, of which the precipitous brink overlooked a deep dark valley containing the sources of the Arámba water, each flowing through a narrow rocky ravine. Extensively cultivated, and echoing to the shrill voice of the partridge, it is studded with cottages, above the white roofs of which the wreaths of curling smoke rose in agreeable relief against the sombre side of the wood-clothed mountain that bounded the prospect. Wóti, towering amid dense forests of timber, and appearing to bear on its venerable summit the crumbling ruins of a giant castle, shut in the view on one side, whilst on the other, far beyond a remarkable pyramidical hill called Koka, could be traced the jungly banks of the Awádee, gradually fading into the blue perspective of the Adel desert.

We experienced every civility at the hands of the governor and Shálaka; the latter of whom insisted on mounting guard over our tents in a small temporary bower erected as a defence against the nocturnal cold. Supplies of every description were furnished in regal profusion; and the voracity of the Abyssinian followers, to whom the excursion had proved one continued feast, was most severely put to the test. The king’s orders, which, in consequence of the excessive cheapness of all the necessaries of life, entail small burden upon the host, threw open the doors at every stage, and afforded the most lavish commissariat; and although the donors in most instances refused our money, they yet accepted presents of tenfold value in their estimation, which amply remunerated them for the tax imposed by the despotic Negoos.

But different indeed would be the reception afforded to the man who should venture to wander through the country without the royal assistance. A well-stocked purse, or a well-filled portmanteau, would not invariably produce a salutary effect, since the savage has always some plan in contrivance, by which to obtain possession of any curious article exposed to his admiring gaze, without imparting aught of value in return; and in Shoa a display of force is frequently requisite to extort that for which the most liberal payment has previously been tendered. Coupled with the desire to obtain property, there ever exists an innate disinclination to part with the most trifling commodity; and even among the higher classes, a stick or a spear is sometimes peremptorily refused to parties who have previously loaded the ingrate with the richest imaginable presents.

Our last march lay over the mountain mass of which Mamrat forms the main feature. The ascent in many parts is extremely tedious; and deep dells, intersecting the road, are traversed each by a clear streamlet, leaping from rock to rock in its downward course to vales far concealed from view. A singular bird’s-eye view of Góncho, the state prison, was obtained from a natural terrace on which, environed by dark juniper trees, stands the church of Kidána Meherát, “the Covenant of Mercy.” This very common title is due to an opinion entertained by the Abyssinian fathers, that God appeared to the Virgin Mary in Paradise, and formed a covenant with her for the redemption of mankind.

The voice of the mourners was soon after heard at the house of Ayto Manór, late governor of the district, who, to the great concern of the king, had recently departed this life. In boyhood a playfellow of Sáhela Selássie, the young prince had sworn that, on his accession to the throne, he would not forget him, and throughout his long reign he had proved true to his word. Although the deceased had, by his disputes with the merchants of Hurrur, forfeited the government of Alio Amba, the most lucrative in the realm, he was immediately invested with another. Year after year, too, honours and wealth had been heaped upon him from the throne, in gratitude for which he willed to his liberal master the entire of his accumulated property, without making any provision for his own children, who, in the ordinary course of things, are permitted to reside twelve months on the father’s estate before it reverts to the crown.

A great portion of the latter part of the road lay through the mighty forests of Mamrat, of which the scenery was rendered singularly beautiful by the admixture of vernal and autumnal tints, produced at this season by the great proportion of evergreens. The shadowy and sombre juniper, fashioned like the tall cedars of Lebanon, and the fresh and lively “zigba,” “So massy, vast, yet green in her old age,” wave stage above stage from the gloomy depths of the valley, to the very pinnacle of the mountain, amid the moss-grown forms of the silver-haired “woira.” The imperial purple lory, with myriads of brilliant birds, darted through the cool recesses; the bell voice of the campanero tolled with monotonous regularity, and many a clear and sparkling rivulet bounded over its broken channel.

Deep-seated in this retirement lies the monastery of Mántek, said to have been founded a thousand years. It is inhabited solely by Tabeeban—men strongly suspected of being Jews in disguise—cunning workers in iron, wood, and clay, who are regarded as sorcerers, and -shunned accordingly by all save the king, to whom they are endeared. The austerities practised by this fraternity, “in order to obtain righteousness before God,” are perhaps as severe as any recorded in monkish annals. An oath is taken, under a curse, never to look at a female, nor to hear her voice, nor to eat a morsel of bread which has been prepared by woman’s hands, and excommunication for twenty years is the penalty attached to the infringement of the vow. No fire is kindled either on Saturday or on the Sabbath; the most meagre diet is observed throughout the residue of the week; many sit up to their necks in water for days together: at appointed periods all lash their naked bodies with rods of sharp thorns; and whilst every brother sleeps in a sitting posture upon a hard clay bench, with his loins girt about by a tough cord, the Alaka, their superior, does penance continually in a massive iron chain.

A tree, which points to the monastery of Aferbeine, was adorned by the followers as they passed with the variegated feathers of the zoreet, and with fragments detached from their soiled cotton garments. The portals of this convent are guarded by a blind dwarf, two feet four inches in stature, who never moves from his post save on men’s shoulders. Among the unwashed tenants of the cloister, there was one who did not disdain to stroll forth, that he might greet the triumphant Gyptzis. Father Stephános was perhaps the least bigoted of his profession, but he possessed his full share of ignorance and superstition. Leviathan he believed to be a monstrous serpent, carrying the world on its back. None possessed firmer faith in the winged chariot of Ethiopia, in which the celestial ark of the covenant is recorded to have been brought from the Holy Temple; and he further laboured under the happy delusion, that a fire kindled above his secluded convent, must, par excellence, be fully as conspicuous at Jerusalem, as the beacons in Palestine by which Saint Helena announced at Constantinople her discovery of the Cross!

Old Osmán, too, with the aid of his ivory-headed crutch, limped forth from his cell in the outskirts of Ankóber, to inquire how his white friends “from beyond the world of waters had entered and passed their time?”—A rover in Guráguê, he had dealt largely in human flesh, and seen much of the unexplored interior, but finally followed the example of Habakkuk, the Arabian merchant, who, in the days of Tekla Haïmanót the ecclesiastic, and during the reign of King Naod, was brought to embrace Christianity, and became Etcheguê, or Superior of all the monasteries. A proselyte to the religion of Ethiopia, Osmán had renounced the false prophet, and put away every Mohammadan abomination, coffee only excepted. Without the sober berry, he averred life to be a very burden; and the clergy were fain to close their eyes upon the malpractices of one, whose geographical information, united with great abilities as a spy, had exalted him to the highest place in the royal favour.

A frequent visitor at the residency, the garrulous monk had opposed strenuous arguments to my projected war against the elephants, herds of which he represented to be so numerous around the lake Zooai, that caravans are afraid to traverse the dense forest unless provided with a number of young goats, to whose bleat the colossus entertains an unconquerable antipathy. “Take my kid with you,” he advised: “on no account omit this, or the monsters will assuredly trample you.” He had been reminded that “the battle is not always to the strong,” but he invariably shook his head; and even now that the chorus of victory was ringing in his ears, and the tail of the fallen actually in his hand, he continued at intervals to ejaculate, with upturned eyes, “No; I like it not.”—“By Mary! it doth not please me.”

In the environs of the capital a vast concourse of people had assembled to welcome our safe return from the hunting-field; and as the ivory trophies of the chase were borne through the crowd upon the shoulders of six men, great were the demonstrations of astonishment and commendation evinced at the successful issue of an expedition so universally ridiculed at its departure. Women and girls shouted in the market-place. Visits of congratulation were forthwith paid by all our friends and well-wishers; whilst the few who had spread disparaging reports, and who still continued to dislike the presence of the British in Abyssinia, evinced by their silence the envy and jealousy to which the unprecedented exploit had given birth in their breasts. Amongst those who felt more particularly annoyed and chagrined was Sertie Wold, the Purveyor General, who had not long before hunted the wilderness of Giddem for two successive months, with a retinue of more than three thousand spearmen and many fusiliers, and who had during that period enjoyed very superior opportunities to ourselves, without however being able to achieve the object of his highest ambition—the death of an elephant.


Volume Two—Chapter Forty Four.

Honorary Distinctions.

The court had meanwhile removed to Angollála; but a paternal letter from the royal pen awaited the return of the Embassy to the capital. “Are my children well?—have they entered in safety? I have heard with joy of your success. Horsemen were dispatched, and they brought me the glad tidings that you had killed. Hasten hither, that I may confer upon you the reward due unto those who have slain forty Galla in the battle.”

No time was lost in accepting this invitation, and a guard of honour met us on the road. Together with sheep and oxen from the king, and barilles of hydromel from the queen, visits of congratulation were received from all the principal courtiers present. Amongst others, came Ayto Egázoo, whose hospitality had been extended to us on our way to Giddem; and Ayto Zowdoo (i.e. My crown) formerly governor of the important province of Geshe on the northern frontier, who was dismissed for bravely fighting against the Worra Káloo, on the occasion when the son of Birroo Lubo fell—an event which, although highly gratifying to His Majesty, policy had induced him to punish by the imprisonment and disgrace of all the principal Amhára engaged. Both of these visitors had, with sorrowful hearts, taken leave of us on our departure; and they now repeated the inward conviction entertained, that the animals against which rash war was to be waged, would have “consumed the assailants”—a persuasion which had led them to cherish not the smallest hope of seeing any one of us again. But greater than all was the delight of the chief smith, when he gave his assurance, after a careful admeasurement, that the circumference of the ivory trophies then lying in the tent for presentation to his royal master, yielded two full spans in excess of any tusk in the royal magazines. A band of fusiliers were at dawn the ensuing morning directed to escort us to the presence; and whilst ascending the hill through the various courtyards, they chanted the war chorus of death before the spoils of the vanquished elephant. A successful expedition against the Loomi Galla having recently returned, the walls of the reception-hall were decorated with numerous trophies hanging above scrolls of parchment closely written with blessings from the priesthood. But the whole court was in deep mourning, in consequence of the demise of Ayto Baimoot, the chief eunuch, who was nurse to the king in infancy, and had been through after-life his principal adviser. Heads were close shaven, temples scarified; and those immediately about the royal person were clothed in sackcloth and ashes.

“Your joy is my joy,” exclaimed His Majesty, so soon as the usual salutations had been concluded, “and I am delighted when my children are happy. I feared that the elephants would destroy you; but you have achieved a triumph which none other have accomplished during the reign of Sáhela Selássie.”

The ivory was now laid at the feet of the king, who listened with great interest and seeming astonishment to the detail of our proceedings, and to the assurance that the monarch of the forest might always be vanquished by a single bullet, if properly directed. A long confession of the personal dread entertained of the elephant by His Majesty was followed by an anecdote formerly touched upon at Machal-wans, of his own discomfiture, and that of his entire host, by a herd encountered during a foray against the Metcha Galla, when, being firmly convinced that the army would be destroyed, he had deemed it prudent to retreat with all expedition. “I ran,” he repeated several times with emphasis—“I ran, and every one of my followers did the same. You evidently understand the mode of dealing with these monsters; but if ten thousand of my people ventured to oppose a troop, the elephants would consume them all.”

After this candid avowal on the part of the despot, I took the opportunity of intimating that a strong desire had been entertained to bring from Giddem the spoils also of a wild buffalo, but that Ayto Tsánna declared to me that His Majesty, during an expedition made some years previously, had fairly exterminated the species.

Oonut now,” “that is true,” he replied, “and you must not attempt to kill the ‘Gosh,’ for it is a most ferocious and dangerous beast. What answer should I give if my children were to be demolished by buffaloes in the kingdom of Shoa? They consume men and horses. When I slew a buffalo in Giddem, there were ten men and ten horses destroyed. They reside in the thickets where they cannot be seen; and putting their heads to the ground, annihilate all who approach their lair. As soon as they have killed a horse, we close round them in vast numbers, and overwhelm them with spears and guns; but you are few, and cannot attempt this.”

As this paternal remonstrance might be traced to a desire on the part of the monarch to place his own exploit in a superior point of view, I changed the subject by an assurance of the uniform kindness and hospitality that we had experienced on the road, at the hands of Ayto Tsánna, and at those of the Emabiet in Mahhfood more especially; and each pause was followed by an ejaculation from the royal lips: “Did I not command him? Is not Birkenich my daughter?”

Certain rewards and immunities are in Shoa attached to the destruction of enemies of the state, and of formidable wild beasts, which are regulated according to a fixed scale, and never withheld. These His Majesty now signified his intention of conferring; and one of the ministers of the crown entering the hall, accordingly proceeded, by the royal command, to invest the victors with the decorations due to the downfall of an elephant.

“You have each slain forty Galla,” repeated the king, “and are henceforth entitled to wear upon the right arm this bitówa, or silver gauntlet, surmounted by this choofa, or silver bracelet; and on the left shoulder the spoils of a he lion, in token of your prowess, that it may be manifest unto all men.”

His Majesty then with his own hand presented newly-plucked sprigs of wild asparagus, to be worn in the hair during forty days, and to be replaced at the expiration of that period by the erkoom feather. Thus honoured, we took our way down through the court-yards of the palace, a band of warriors again preceding, who discharged their muskets at intervals, whilst they chanted the Amhára war chorus, and danced the death triumph.

The rebellion of the Loomi, which had now with infinite difficulty been quelled, affords an excellent commentary upon the nature of Sáhela Selássie’s Galla tenures. A portion of this tribe had failed to pay their tribute to the now disgraced governor of Mentshar, who was wounded in the attempt to levy it, and the royal forces took the field against them. Bótha, who presided over a portion of the Yerrur district, was also a defaulter, though not in open revolt; but at the entreaty of his brother Dogmo, a faithful vassal of the king, he came in with his arrears as the army drew nigh; and having been mildly reproached for the delay, was dismissed with pardon. No sooner, however, had he left the camp, than he went over to the Galla on the plain of the Háwash, and aided the Loomi in a projected attack upon the Amhára. Upon this defection, Shambo, his elder brother, became apprehensive of consequences; for he conceived it by no means improbable that he might be held responsible for an offence in which he had no participation, as in the case of Súmmad Negoos, late governor of Geshe, who is to this day a state prisoner in consequence of his brother Negooso going over to the ruler of Argobba. He therefore determined to renounce his allegiance, but deferred the execution of his design until after joining Ayto Shishigo, who commanded the troops acting against the Loomi; and it being then proposed to burn a village on the summit of an adjacent hill, belonging to the tribe of Bótha, he immediately took part with the enemy, and heading an onset in person, slew a vast number of the Christians.

One half of the Loomi hamlets were already in flames, but the work of destruction was now discontinued; and the royal forces retreating in disorder, were again attacked by the rebel brothers, and defeated with great loss within sight of the camp at Cholie. Perceiving his warriors flying in all directions, the king seized spear and shield, and commanded his steed to be saddled, to the end that he might take the field in person. But a wily monk, believing that His Majesty felt no real anxiety to place himself in a position of such imminent peril, threatened him with excommunication if he stirred, and thus the day was irretrievably lost.

Háwash Oosha (i.e. “The dog of the Háwash”), who governs the subjugated sections of the Aroosi, Soddo, Liban, and Jillé tribes, having meanwhile joined the insurgents, the whole Galla border was in arms. This powerful chieftain, who was for many years the open enemy of the despot, had been finally gained over to the royal interest by large presents, and by the espousal of his daughter; since which period he has held, in nominal subjection to the crown, an important portion of the plain of the Háwash. He soon repented him of the part he had taken in the present insurrection; and the usual dissensions arising among the rebels, a deputation, assured of personal safety, fell on the ground before the footstool of the throne with overtures of future fealty. But the country was rich in flocks and herds; and under the peculiar circumstances of aggravation attending the revolt, the delegates were commanded to arise, and to return whence they came, with an assurance to the contrite rebel that his fair plains were shortly to be the scene of pillage and desolation.

Two successful inroads followed close upon this threat, and ample vengeance was taken. The wealth of the Pagans was transferred to the royal meadows. Women wrung their hands in captivity, and a black and burning monument attested the lava-like course of the chastising hordes. The season of retribution again drew nigh, and Shambo and Bótha trembled at the fate that awaited them. The powerful intercession of the church was sought with bribes, and obtained. A hooded monk from the cloisters of Affaf Woira stood before the throne with a peace-offering from those who supplicated pardon, and clemency was graciously extended. As the Embassy entered the palace-court at the royal invitation, the traitors were perceived prostrate on their faces, heaping dust upon their heads in token of abject humiliation. The fear of the heavy fetters of Góncho was before their eyes; and the half inebriated state gaoler scowled at them like a basilisk from the ladder of the balcony. But for once he was cheated of his prey. Five hundred head of choice black cattle, which the caitiffs had treacherously swept from those whose cause they so lately espoused, were accepted as the price of pardon; and with an eloquent harangue from the throne, setting forth the duties of a liege subject, Shambo and Bótha were dismissed in peace.


Volume Two—Chapter Forty Five.

Conclusion of a Treaty of Commerce.

Angollála continued bitterly cold throughout the month of December; and fires, although not quite indispensable, were always found pleasant enough. A dry cutting wind from the eastward blew throughout the day; but the clouds, which often gathered over the surrounding mountains, occasionally disturbed the serenity of the afternoon with a squall of hail. Snipe abounded among the serpentine streams which intersected the environs of the palace-hill; and the hero who possessed courage to cast off the blankets before the sun rose, invariably saw the hoar-frost lying white over the faded meadows. Dogs continued to howl in packs, and mendicants to importune as of yore. Dirty pages and troublesome idlers still infested my tent; and the approaches were choked by numerous bands of Yedjow Galla, who were begging their way to the country of Dedjasmach Paris. Day and night their monotonous voices arose from every quarter of the town, and Christian adjurations by “Miriam” and “Kedoos Michael” were often nearly drowned by the choral hymn uplifted to Allah and the false prophet.

A new invoice of beads, cutlery, trinkets, ghemdjia, and other “pleasing things,” had been received from the coast; and visits were therefore unusually frequent on the part of all who loved to be decorated. Abba Mooálle, surnamed “the Great Beggar in the West,” with his adopted brother, appeared to hold the lease of the tent in perpetuity; and in return for amber necklaces and gay chintz vestments, hourly volunteered some promise, simply, it would seem, that they might afterwards enjoy the pleasure of forfeiting a gratuitous oath. If solemn asseverations by highly respectable saints and martyrs, were to be received with credit, messengers were almost daily despatched, and on fleet horses too, for the purpose of bringing from the Galla dependencies on the Nile, amongst other treasures, the spoils of the gássela, a black leopard, elsewhere not procurable, and “worn only by the governors of provinces.” But by some unaccountable fatality, not one of these fleet couriers ever found his way back to the English camp at Angollála; and the cry meanwhile continued, without intermission,—“Show me pleasing things; give me delighting things; adorn me from head to foot.”

Nor were there wanting other standing dishes of an equally rapacious and insatiable character, and scarcely more addicted to veracity. Gádeloo, “the hen-pecked,” was punctual in his attendance, by order of the Emabiet of Mahhfood, who had always a new want to be supplied. “May they buy,” with an unsound steed for sale at an unconscionable price, brought daily an urgent request of some sort from his spouse. Neither did any morning pass without a protracted visit from Shunkoor, “Sugar,” own brother to the queen, escorted by Ayto Dedjen, “Doors,” his shadow and boon companion, and grand-nephew to the monarch himself. But the attachment subsisting between these inseparable allies was one day suddenly dissolved over a decanter of unusually potent hydromel, and a sabre-cut on the head of either, demonstrated, alas! the fleeting and unstable nature of all sublunary friendship.

As each evening closed, the nobility were to be seen streaming towards our tents from the royal banquet, supported upon their ambling mules by a host of armed and not very sober retainers; and a tribe of ragged pages bringing messages from the palace, accidentally entered at the same time to report the substance of the conversation, although many of the illustrious visitors were absolutely inarticulate. Lances were hurled at a target to the imminent peril of all spectators; and the neck of the vanquished having been duly trampled under foot, according to the ancient Oriental form of military triumph, all who anticipated any difficulty in reaching their own abodes, staggered back to the Gyptzis to laugh at the mad pranks of Dághie, the obsequious court buffoon, and the flower of Abyssinian minstrelsy.

Decked by the favour of the monarch in a shining silver sword, this Merry Andrew, fiddle in hand, came scraping and chanting his way homeward, with eyes sufficiently inflamed to indicate where he had been dining. Kissing the earth as he took his seat in the tent, amid many antics, grimaces, and inquiries, he proceeded to elicit from his instrument imitations of the human voice under various intonations of joy, surprise, and sorrow; and a host of retainers, crowding round the doors with shoulders bared, next shouted their approval to some travestie of the wild Adel slogan, or joined their voices in full chorus to swell the Amhára death triumph, or this, the pibroch of the Nile:—

“The sword is burning for the fight,
And gleams like rays of living light;
Let thoughts of fear inthral the slave—
Rouse to the strife, ye Gojam brave.

“Clustering they come, the Turkish rout
Ring back on high the Amhára shout;
For honour, home, or glorious grave—
Rouse to the strife, ye Gojam brave.

“The sword of Confu leads the war.
And dastard spirits quail afar;
None here to pity, none to save—
Rouse to the strife, ye Gojam brave.

“Our swords in tint shall soon outvie
Yon scabbard of the crimson dye.
And overhead shall ruddy wave—
Rouse to the strife, ye Gojam brave.

“Red as their belts their blood shall flow,
Deep as the hue of sunset glow;
Mercy to none who mercy crave—
Rouse to the strife, ye Gojam brave.”

Pages and abigails were hourly in attendance, on the part of their royal master or mistress, with some rubbish from the palace, which was carefully removed from its red and yellow basket of Guráguê grass, divested of all its numerous wrappers, and confidentially exhibited with an inquiry, sotto voce, “whether more of the same description was not to be obtained?” The outcry raised for detonating caps was wearisome and incessant; for although it was notorious that the royal magazines boasted a hoard sufficient to answer the utmost demand of at least three generations, the king was ever apprehensive of bankruptcy, in event of a quarrel with the Adaïel, “because his own people knew not the road beyond the world of waters.” Thus it happened that Kidána Wold, “the long gunman,” who had charge of the royal armoury, received private instructions to look in at the Residency at least twice a week, with a mamálacha for fifty or a hundred tezábs, and regularly once a month averred that he had been so unfortunate as to drop from his girdle another box of His Majesty’s patent anticorrosives—a loss which, unless timely repaired, must inevitably result in the forfeiture of his liberty. “The Gaita has discovered my carelessness,” he would add, with tears in his eyes; “and, by Mary, if you don’t help me immediately, I shall be sent to Góncho.” Treble strong canister gunpowder was also in high demand, its superiority over the manufacture of Shoa being admitted even by the maker. But the sulphur monopoly remained as heretofore most jealously guarded. The ill-starred individual who had charge of the mines on the frontier, in an evil hour accepted silver for a lump of the purified commodity, which was required for the cure of applicants having the beggar’s disease; and spies reporting the peculation, the delinquent was condemned to perpetual labour in the hot valleys of Giddem.

This convict was accompanied in his exile by a shrewd lad, who had been detected at the Bool Worki market in giving circulation to two counterfeit dollars. Weeks of incessant toil had enabled him to produce out of a lump of pewter, very creditable imitations of the coinage of Maria Theresa. Every spot and letter had been most closely represented with a punch and file; and the ingenious artist, naturally enough, seemed vastly mortified at the untoward consequences of his labour. “Tell me,” inquired the king, as the culprit was being removed, “how is that machine made which in your country pours out the silver crowns like a shower of rain?”

Architecture now occupied a full share of the royal brain. The hand corn-mills presented by the British Government had been erected within the palace walls, and slaves were turning the wheels with unceasing diligence. “Demetrius the Armenian made a machine to grind corn,” exclaimed His Majesty, in a transport of delight, as the flour streamed upon the floor; “and although it cost my people a year of hard labour to construct, it was useless when finished, because the priests declared it to be the Devil’s work, and cursed the bread. But may Sáhela Selássie die! These engines are the invention of clever heads. Now I will build a bridge over the Beréza, and you shall give me your advice.”

Early the ensuing morning the chief smith was accordingly in attendance with hammer and tongs; and “when the sun said hot,” the pious monarch, having first paid his orisons in the church of the Trinity, proceeded, with all suitable cunning, to plan the projected edifice beneath a fortunate horoscope. Twelve waterways were traced with stones under his skilful superintendence on a site selected after infinite discussion; and in five minutes a train of slaves from the establishment at Debra Berhán were heaping together piles of loose boulders to serve as piers. Splinters of wood connected the roadway, and in three days the structure was complete, its appearance giving promise of what actually happened—demolition within as many short hours, on the very first violent fresh to which the river is subject during the annual rains.

But our predictions of this impending catastrophe were received with an incredulous shake of the head; and my advice that orders should be issued to the Governors on the Nile to keep a vigilant lookout for the upper timbers on their voyage down to Egypt, was followed by a good-humoured laugh and a playful tap on the shoulder of the audacious foreigner, who, to the horror and amazement of the obsequious courtiers, had thus ventured to speak his mind to the despot. In vain was it that I proposed to construct a bridge upon arches which might defy the impetuosity of the torrent. “All my subjects are asses,” retorted His Majesty: “they are idle and lazy, and devoid of understanding. There is not one that will consent to labour, no, not one; and if through your means they should be compelled to perform the task, they would weep, and invoke curses on the name of the Gyptzis. Your corn mills are approved, because they save the women trouble, but by the shades of my ancestors!—a bridge—” Here all sense of the decorum due to the sceptre was forgotten for the moment, and the monarch whistled aloud.

And the king was right. Weaving excepted, which in so cold a climate is an art indispensable to existence, the people of Shoa can hardly be said to practise any manufacture. The raw cotton, which is as cheap as it is excellent and abundant, is, by him who would be clad, handed over with a number of ámoles proportioned to the size of the cloth required. A common bow is used to spread the wool; and the spinning jenny being unknown, the thread is twisted by means of the ancient spindle, to which motion is imparted by a rapid pressure betwixt the left palm and the denuded thigh, whilst the right hand is simultaneously carried upwards for the purpose of “roving.” Time is here held of no account; and female labour having supplied the want of machinery in these preliminary operations, the twist is transferred to a rude locomotive loom, and a warm durable mantle is produced with the aid only of a simple shuttle.

British commerce has not only forced its way, but created markets and customers in many a wilder and more inaccessible portion of the globe than highland Abyssinia, and its operation promises to open the only means of improvement and civilisation. Even in the absence of water carriage, the experience of many years has proved that the living ship of the desert is a machine of transport adequate to the most important traffic; and, if once established, that traffic would in a few years doubtless bind both people and ruler in the strongest chains of personal interest. It would rapidly change the pursuits of the people—convert the rude hut into a comfortable dwelling—limit, if not extinguish, the slave trade with Arabia, and if not reform, at least enlighten, the clouded Christianity of Ethiopia.

A commercial convention betwixt Great Britain and Shoa was a subject that had been frequently adverted to; and His Majesty had shaken his head when first assured that five hundred pair of hands efficiently employed at the loom would bring into his country more permanent wealth than ten thousand warriors bearing spear and shield. But he had gradually begun to comprehend how commerce, equitably conducted, might prove a truer source of wealth than forays into the territories of the heathen. This conviction resulted in the expression of his desire that certain articles agreed upon might be drawn up on parchment, and presented for signature, which had accordingly been done; and the day fixed for the return of the embassy to Ankóber was appointed for the public ratification of the document by the annexure thereto of the royal hand and seal.

Nobles and captains thronged the court-yard of the palace at Angollála, and the king reclined on the throne in the attic chamber. A highly illuminated sheet, surmounted on the one side by the Holy Trinity—the device invariably employed as the arms of Shoa—and on the other by the Royal Achievement of England, was formally presented, and the sixteen articles of the convention in Amháric and English, read, commented upon, and fully approved. They involved the sacrifice of arbitrary appropriation by the crown of the property of foreigners dying in the country, the abrogation of the despotic interdiction which had from time immemorial precluded the purchase or display of costly goods by the subject, and the removal of penal restrictions upon voluntary movement within and beyond the kingdom, which formed a modification of the obsolete national maxim, “never to permit the stranger who had once entered, to depart from Abyssinia.” All these evils His Majesty unhesitatingly declared his determination to annul for the good of his people.

Tekla Mariam, the royal notary, kneeling, held the upper part of the unrolled scroll upon the state cushion, and the king, taking the proffered pen, inscribed after the words “Done and concluded at Angollála, the Galla capital of Shoa, in token whereof we have hereunto set our hand and seal,”—“Sáhela Selássie, who is the Negoos of Shoa, Efát, and the Galla.” The imperial signet, a cross encircled by the word “Jesus,” was then attached by the scribe in presence of the chief of the church, the Dedj Agafári, the Governor of Morát, and three other functionaries who were summoned into the alcove for the purpose.

“You have loaded me with costly presents,” exclaimed the monarch as he returned the deed: “the raiment that I wear, the throne whereon I sit, the various curiosities in my storehouses, and the muskets which hang around the great hall, are all from your country. What have I to give in return for such wealth? My kingdom is as nothing.”