Dahonte and Dalanta not long afterwards, declared themselves for the

Gallas, turned out of their provinces the governors Theodore had appointed

over them, and seized upon the cattle, mules, and horses belonging to the

Magdala garrison, which had been sent there, as was the custom before the

rainy season, on account of the scarcity of water on the Amba itself. If

Theodore, only a few months before, had but a very insecure portion of his

former vast empire that he could call his own, at that date, June, 1867, he

was a king without a kingdom, and a general without an army. Magdala and

Zer Amba were still garrisoned by his troops; but apart from these forts, he

had nothing left: even his camp was only full of mutinous men, and

desertions went on at such a rate that he could then only muster from 6,000

to 7,000 men, the majority of whom were peasants, who had followed him

to avoid starvation. For miles around Debra Tabor the country was a perfect

desert, and Theodore saw with dread the rainy season coming on, for he had

no supplies in camp, and a large number of followers, the people of Gondar,

and an endless host of useless individuals to support.

[Illustration: SUMMIT OF ZER AMBA FORTRESS NEAR TECHELGA.]

In Begemder plundering was out of the: question; the peasants were always

on the watch, and on the slightest sign of a move were everywhere on the

alert, killing the stragglers and plunderers, and keeping out of the way of

the gunmen who stood around the Emperor. Theodore remembered a rich

district not as yet plundered, Belessa, at the north-east of Begemder. In

order to surprise the inhabitants completely, he proclaimed some days

before that he was going on an expedition in quite a different direction, and

to make his army appear as formidable as possible, he had given orders that

every one who possessed a horse or a mule, or a servant, must send them,

under penalty of death, to accompany the expedition. The Belessa people,

far from being surprised, had been informed of his intention by their spies,

and Theodore, to his disappointment, saw from a distance their villages on

fire; the peasants themselves having preferred destroying their homes to

leaving them a prey to the invader. Under the conduct of a gallant chief, Lij

Abitou, a young man of good family, and a runaway officer, from the

Imperial household, the peasants, well armed, took up a position on a small

plateau, separated by a narrow ravine from the route Theodore would take.

To his surprise, instead of running away at the mere sight of his charger,

they not only stood their ground, but several well-mounted chiefs rode out

in front and bid defiance to Theodore himself. Astrologers must have told

him that the day was not favourable, as after several of his chiefs who had

answered the cartel had been laid dead on the field, he still refused to lead

his men in person, and before this unexpected resistance gave way and

ordered a retreat. Belessa was saved: the hungry, famished robbers that

Theodore called soldiers passed a dreadful night; tired, hungry, and cold,

they could not sleep, for the peasants might surprise and attack them, in

their turn. The cruelties Theodore perpetrated after his return to Debra

Tabor were fearful; too horrible to be related. At last, tired of taking his

revenge on the innocent, he turned his thoughts to the place he might most

easily plunder, and fixed upon the island of Metraha.

That island, situate in the Tana Sea, about twenty miles north of Kourata, is

only a few hundred yards from the mainland. It was considered in the light

of an asylum, and protected by its sacred character, priests and monks

resided there in peace; while merchants and rich landowners sent their

goods and stores there for safe custody. Theodore had no scruples about

violating the sanctity of the island: the asylum afforded by the churches to

all before his time he had long ago violated, and, certain of a large booty,

did not hesitate to add another sacrilege to his numerous crimes. On his

arrival before Metraha, he at once ordered his people to make rafts. Whilst

Theodore was occupied in their construction, a priest came in a boat, and

approaching within speaking distance, inquired of the Emperor what it was

that he desired. Theodore told him the grain that they had in store. The

priest replied that they would send it to him; but Theodore, not satisfied

with the grain alone, told the priest not to be afraid, but to send their boats.

He took a solemn oath that he would not injure them, nor remove anything

but the grain he required. The priest, on his return to the island, informed

the people of his conversation with the Emperor, and the majority being in

favour of complying with his requests, it was agreed that all the available

boats should be taken to the mainland. A few who had no trust in

Theodore's word entered their canoes, and paddled away in an opposite

direction. Theodore ordered the Europeans to fire upon them with the small

cannons they had brought. They complied; but, to Theodore's great

disappointment, failed to hit any of the fugitives. No sooner had Theodore

and a select party been admitted on the island than he caused all the

remaining inhabitants to be shut up in a few of the larger houses; and after

all the grain, silver, gold, and merchandise had been removed, he set the

place on fire, and burnt to death priests, merchants, women and children!

For a while, abundance reigned in Theodore's camp. The work of casting

the big cannon had been going on for some time: the day of its completion

at last arrived, and Emperor and workmen anxiously awaited the result of

their labours. The Europeans, to their great dismay, saw that they had failed;

but Theodore, not in the least put out, told them not to be afraid, but to try

again: perhaps they would succeed another time. Theodore examined

carefully everything, connected with the smelting, in order to find out the

cause of the failure, and he soon perceived that it was due to the presence of

some water around the mould. He at once set to work, and had a large,

deep, broad trench constructed from beneath the mould to some distance

outside. This drain dried up the place, and on a second attempt being made

the success was complete. Theodore was delighted; he made handsome

presents to the workmen, and prepared everything requisite to carry away

with him his immense piece of ordnance.

During that rainy season (1867) Theodore's difficulties were very great:

indeed, the punishment of his evil deeds was falling heavily upon him, and

to his proud nature it must have been a daily and constant agony. The rebels

were now so little afraid of Theodore that every night they made attacks on

his camp, and were always on the watch to seize stragglers, or campfollowers. They had at last become such a terror to the soldiers that, to

protect them, and at the same time check, to a certain extent, desertion,

Theodore had a large stockade built around the foot of the hill on which his

camp was pitched. A war of extermination on both sides now took place;

Theodore showing no pity to the peasants whom he succeeded in capturing,

and they, on their side, torturing and murdering any one who belonged to

the Emperor's camp. A detailed account of the atrocities committed by

Theodore during the last month of his stay in Begemder would be too

horrible to narrate: suffice it to say that he burnt alive, or sentenced to some

cruel death, in that short space of time, more than 3,000 persons! His rage at

times was so blind that, unable to satisfy his revenge by punishing those

who daily insulted and scorned him, he vented his anger on the few

remaining faithful companions who shared his fate: chiefs who had fought

by his side for years, friends whom he knew from his childhood, old

respectable men who had protected him in former days, all had to suffer

more or less for their faithfulness, and fell innocent victims to his mad fits

of violence. Many succumbed to a lingering death, or chains and torture, for

no reason whatever except that they loved him!

Desertions were still frequent, but the difficulty of escape was greater than

before; the peasants often put to death the fugitives; and always stripped

and plundered them of everything they had. The gates of the fence were

guarded night and day by faithful men, and it required often a good deal of

ability and cunning to be able to pass through them. I was told an anecdote

which exemplifies the expedients the soldiers resorted to in order to get out

of the dreaded camp. One evening, about half an hour before sunset, a

woman presented herself at the gate, carrying on her head one of the large

flat baskets used for keeping bread; she said, with tears in her eyes; that her

brother was lying down some short distance from the fence so dangerously

wounded that he could not walk; she had brought him a little bread and

water, etc. The guards allowed her to pass. A few minutes afterwards a

soldier presented himself at the gate, and asked if they had seen a woman

go through, giving the description of the one that had just gone out. The

guards said that they had; the soldier appeared to be in a fearful passion,

and said that she was his wife, who had made an assignation to run away

with her lover; and he threatened to report them to the Emperor. The guards

told him that she could not be far off, and that he had better go quickly and

overtake her; off he went: as might be expected, neither appeared again.

To the annoyances and difficulties caused by the presence of large bodies of

armed peasants, day and night hanging about the outskirts of the camp,

were soon added the evils of famine: a small Abyssinian loaf cost a dollar; a

salt and a half, a dollar; butter could not by any means be obtained; and

hundreds died daily of want and starvation. When the grain plundered at

Metraha was consumed, no more could be found; plundering was now quite

impossible, and as long as Theodore did not move his camp there was no

hope of supplies of any kind being obtained. Almost all the mules, horses,

and the few remaining sheep had died from want of food; they could not

graze any more in close vicinity to the camp, that pasture being completely

eaten up; and as to driving them to some green fields at a distance, that was

impossible. The poor animals dropped one after the other, and infected the

place by the stench that arose from their dead bodies. The cows had all been

killed long before by order of Theodore. One day, when, after one of his

first razzias, he had brought back with him to Debra Tabor more than

80,000 cows; at night the peasants came, and from a distance implored him

to have pity upon them, and restore them their cattle, without which they

were unable to cultivate the soil. Theodore was on the point of acceding to

their request, when some of the rascals around him said, "Does not your

Majesty know that there is a prophecy in the country, that a king will seize a

large amount of cattle, and that the peasants will come and beg him to

return them; the king will comply, but soon afterwards die." Theodore

replied, "Well, the prophecy will not apply to me." He immediately gave

orders for all the cows in camp, those he had lately brought, and all others,

to be killed at once; the order was obeyed, and nearly, it is said, 100,000

were killed and left to rot in the plain at a short distance from the camp.

The next day, Theodore, seated outside his hut, perceived a man driving a

cow into the fields; he sent for him, and asked him if he had not heard the

order. The man replied in the affirmative, but said that he had not killed his

cow because his wife having died the day before on giving birth to a child,

he had kept that one for the sake of her milk. Theodore told him, "Why did

not you know that I would be a father to your child? Kill the man," he said

to those around him, "and take care of his child for me."

The waggons being at last ready, Theodore decided upon marching towards

Magdala. Pestilence, engendered by famine and the noxious effluvia arising

from the heap of unburied dead bodies, now increased the already dismal

condition of the Emperor's army; and in a few weeks more he and his whole

host must have perished from sickness and want. On the 10th of October,

his Majesty set fire to his houses at Debra Tabor, and destroyed the whole

place; leaving only, as a record of his stay, a church he had built as an

expiation for his sacrilege at Gondar. His march was, indeed, the most

wonderful feat he ever accomplished; none but he would have ventured on

such an undertaking; and no other man could have succeeded in

accomplishing the arduous journey that lay before him: it required all his

energy, perseverance, and iron will to carry out his purpose under such

immense difficulties.

He had not more than 5,000 men with him, all more or less in bad

condition, weakened by famine, discontented, and only awaiting a

favourable opportunity to run away. The camp-followers, on the contrary;

numbered between forty and fifty thousand helpless and useless beings

whom he had to protect and feed. He had, moreover, several hundred

prisoners to guard, an immense amount of baggage to carry, fourteen guncarriages, with cannon or mortars—one of them the famous "Sebastopol,"

weighing between fifteen and sixteen thousand pounds—and ten waggons,

the whole to be dragged by men across a country without roads. Theodore

did not let himself be influenced by all these unfavourable circumstances;

he seemed, for a time, to have regained much of his former self, and

behaved with more consideration towards his followers. His daily marches

were very short, not more than a mile and a half to two miles a day. A

portion of his camp marched early every morning, carrying the heavy

luggage, dragging the waggons, and protecting the followers from the

attacks of the rebels, who were always hovering in the distance, watching a

favourable opportunity to avenge themselves on the Emperor's people for

all the miseries they had suffered at his hand; another portion remained

behind to guard what could not be carried; off, and, on the return of the first

batch, all started for the spot fixed upon for that day's halt, conveying what

had been left behind in the morning. Even then the day's work wast not

over; the corn was as yet not quite ripe, and stood in the fields by the side of

the road; Theodore would set the example, pluck a few unripe ears of

barley, rub them between his hands, and, satisfied with this frugal meal,

repair to the nearest brook to quench thirst. From Debra Tabor to Checheo,

such was the daily routine of the reduced host of Theodore,—harnessed to

waggons, in place of the horses and mules now so scarce in the camp;

constantly on the alert, as the country was all up in arms against them; with

no supplies available, only the unripe barley plucked by the wayside; no

peace by day nor rest at night: in a word, a march unequalled in the annals

of history.

The prisoners were very badly off: many—even the Europeans—were in

hand and foot chains; to walk a few steps in such a condition is fatiguing in

the extreme, but to have to go over a mile or two of broken ground with

such fetters equals the cruellest torture. Mrs. Flad and Mrs. Rosenthal every

day, as soon as they arrived at the stage, sent back their mules for the

Europeans to ride; and some time afterwards, on Mr. Staiger making a gala

dress for his Majesty, the hand-chains of all five were taken away. On the

native prisoners requesting to be allowed to ride, his Majesty sent them

word that, as he knew they had money, he would grant permission to those

who would send him a dollar . Theodore must have been hard up, indeed, to

be satisfied with such a trifle. Several complied with his demand, and, by

giving small presents to those chiefs who had mules, they got an occasional

lift.

At Aibankab Theodore halted a few days to rest his men; near it two heaps

of stones arise, giving to the place the name of Kimr Dengea. [Footnote:

"Kimr Dengea," heap of stones.] The story the people of the country narrate

with reference to these heaps of stones is that on one occasion a Queen, at

the head of her army, went on an expedition against the Gallas; before

starting she ordered every one of her soldiers as he passed along to put a

stone on a certain spot, and on her return again ordered them to place a

stone at a short distance from the former heap. The first is a large mass, the

second very much smaller; the Queen knew by that how great her loss had

been, and never since then ventured against the Gallas.

At Kimr Dengea Theodore fell in with a caravan of salt-merchants on their

route to Godjam. He asked them why they went to the rebels instead of

coming to him. The chief of the caravan honestly replied that they had

heard from merchants that his Majesty was in the habit of burning people

alive, and consequently they were afraid to come near him. Theodore said,

"It is true I am a bad man, but if you had trusted and come to me, I would

have treated you well; but as you prefer the rebels, I will take care that in

future you do not go to them." He then seized the salt and mules, sent all the

merchants into an empty house, had it surrounded with dry wood, put

guards at the door, and set fire to it.

The peasants of Gahinte, to whom Theodore offered an amnesty, declined

to accept it; on three occasions he issued a proclamation offering them a

free pardon should they return to him. At last, however, they sent him some

priests to see what terms he would make; he received the priests well, and

told them that he would not enter Gahinte: he only required a few supplies;

but to prove to him their sincerity they must send from each village a

person of influence to reside in his camp until he left Begemder. Luckily for

them, the peasants declined to comply with his demands; Theodore was too

prudent to venture into their valleys, and contented himself by plundering at

a short distance from his camp; burning alive, before he left, a few poor

wretches who had been simple enough to rely on the faith of his

proclamation.

Theodore arrived at the foot of the steep ascent that leads from Begemder to

Checheo on the 22nd of November. Up to that spot the road was not bad;

but now an almost perpendicular height stood before him, and he was

obliged to blast enormous rocks, cut a road through basalt, to enable him to

bring his waggons, guns, and mortars on the Zébite plains above.

About that time he must have received the first intelligence of the landing

of British troops at Zulla; for one afternoon he said to the Europeans, "Do

not be afraid if I send for you at night. You must be on the watch, as I hear

some donkeys intend stealing my slaves." The Europeans could not make

out his meaning, and retired as usual to their tents. In the middle of the

night, all of them, with the exception of an old man called Zander, and

McKelvie, who had for a long time been suffering from dysentery, were

awoke by soldiers coming into their quarters and ordering them to go at

once to the Emperor. They were all ushered into a small tent, and many

frivolous charges made against them. They were not allowed to leave that

night; even a large bundle of chains was brought in; but on some of the

chiefs representing to his Majesty that without their labour it would be

exceedingly difficult to make roads and guide the waggons, and that he

could always put them in chains when he reached Magdala, Theodore

relented. He allowed them to go to their own tents in the daytime, when not

on duty; but at night for their own safety, and, as he said, on account of the

badness of his people, he made them all sleep in one tent, a few yards from

his own: with the exception of a few days, they remained prisoners at night

and slaves during the day, until the beginning of April.

From early dawn to late at night Theodore was himself hard at work; with

his own hands he removed stones, levelled the ground, or helped to fill up

small ravines. No one could leave so long as he was there himself; no one

could think of eating, drinking, or of rest, whilst the Emperor showed the

example and shared the hardships. When he could capture a few peasants or

some of the rebels that crowned all the heights around him, and day and

night insulted or laughed at him, he killed them in some cruel way or the

other; but towards the soldiers, ever since leaving Debra Tabor, he behaved

better, and left off beating or imprisoning them, as had been of late his

wont. On one or two occasions only he called them all around him, and,

standing on an elevated rock, addressed them in these terms: "I know that

you all hate me; you all want to run away. Why do you not kill me? Here I

am alone, and you are thousands." He would pause for a few seconds, and

add, "Well, if you will not kill me, I will kill you all, one after the other."

On the 15th of December, the road being completed, he brought up his

waggons on the plain of Zébite, and encamped there for a few days. The

peasants of that district, believing that Theodore would never be able to

ascend to their plateau, with all the incumbrances he had with him—though

they were themselves ready to fly at the shortest notice—had not removed

their cattle and grain; thus Theodore, for the first time for many months,

was able to provide food for his small army, and make even some provision

for the future. From Zébite to Wadela the road is naturally good, so that, as

far as that district, the task before him was easy. He reached that plateau on

the 25th of the same month, and encamped at Bet Hor.

But the work now before him would have driven any other man to despair;

though not fifty miles from his Amba Magdala, he had, before he could rest

there, to make roads down two precipitous descents, cross two rivers, and

surmount again two steep perpendicular ascents. He went, however, steadily

to work. Little by little he made a road, creditable even to a European

engineer, bringing with him his mortars, cannons, &c.; he plundered at the

same time, and kept away by his name alone Watshum Gobazé and his

uncle Meshisha, who were both watching his movements: not that they

intended to attack him, but who were anxious to be able to decamp at the

first sign of his marching in the direction of the provinces they "protected."

On the 10th of January he began his descent, reached the valley of the

Jiddah on the 28th of the same month, ascended the opposite precipice, and

encamped on the Dalanta plain on the 20th of February, 1868.

CHAPTER XVIII.

Theodore in the vicinity of Magdala—Our Feelings at the Time—An

Amnesty granted to Dalanta—The Garrison of Magdala join the Emperor—

Mrs. Rosenthal and other Europeans are sent to the Fortress—Theodore's

Conversations with Flad and Waldmeier on the coming of the Troops—Sir

Robert Napier's Letter to Theodore reaches us—Theodore plunders Dalanta

—He abuses Mr. Waldmeier—Reaches the Bechelo—Correspondence

between Mr. Rassam and Theodore—Mr. Rassam is Released from his

Fetters—Theodore arrives at Islamgee—His Quarrel with the Priests—His

first Visit to the Amba—Trial of the Two Chiefs—He places a New

Commandant over the Garrison.

We have now followed the Emperor's career from the day of our departure

from Debra Tabor to his arrival in our neighbourhood. During that time,

apart from the letters he addressed to Mr. Rassam relative to the one from

the Queen, and about Mr. Flad and the artisans, we had but little intercourse

with him. For a long time messengers passed with the greatest difficulty,

and, afraid lest his written communications with the chiefs on the Amba

might fall into the hands of the rebels, he had of late sent only verbal

messages. Every messenger usually brought us compliments, and when any

were sent from the Amba they always came to us by order of the chief

before they left, so that Mr. Rassam might return a civil message in answer

to the one he had received.

The ordinary staff of messengers were too well known on the road to be

able to pass through the districts in rebellion; and for a long time we

rejoiced at the idea that all communications were for ever interrupted

between the camp and the fort, when one day a young Galla, servant of one

of the political prisoners, reached the Amba, bringing a letter from his

Majesty. The lad went forwards and backwards many times; but, apart from

the presents be received from us, I do not believe he ever even got a salt for

so constantly exposing his life; a few more men, who had friends and

acquaintances on the road, managed also to pass through. All of them were

very useful to us, as they also carried the correspondence between us and

Mr. Flad, and, beings well rewarded, could be trusted with the most

dangerous letters. We thought it even good fun to make the King's

messenger our medium of communication between our friends in his camp

and ourselves, often on treasonable matters.

Soon after reaching Bet Hor, Theodore issued a proclamation to the rebel

districts of Dahonte and Dalanta, offering full amnesty for the past, and

pledging himself, "by the death of Christ," that he would neither plunder

nor ill-use them, should they return to their allegiance. For some days both

districts refused, as Gobazé had promised to come and defend them; but the

people of Dalanta, on seeing that, far from giving them any help, Gobazé

was himself getting out of the way of Theodore, thought that, after all, it

was perhaps better to accept the latter's offer, and, as they could not help

themselves, trust to his pledged word. Dahonte, however, remained in its

rebellion, and proposed to resist by force of arms any attempt on the part of

Theodore to plunder the province. As the Emperor had spoken in very

friendly terms to his workmen and others about Mr. Rassam, that gentleman

was advised by the chiefs to write to the King, congratulating him on his

safe arrival. This he repeated on several similar occasions; and the

messengers he sent with these letters were very cordially treated by his

Majesty. Theodore also wrote to Mr. Rassam on one or two occasions; and

we had a ludicrous repetition of the courteous and edifying correspondence

that had passed formerly between the two in the sunny days of Kourata.

January, 1868, ushered in a period of great mental excitement for us, which

lasted until the very end; increasing in intensity as we approached the last

days, as we well knew that then our fate would be decided. But there is

something in the constant repetition of stimulants, be they moral or

physical, which blunts the feelings, hardens the heart, and at last allows the

person long submitted to their influence to look upon everything with

indifference and impassiveness. We had had so many "shocks" during the

last three months—so many times we expected to be tortured or killed—

that when the day arrived that we were in reality placed almost beyond

hope, the crisis did not affect us much, and once passed, we never thought

of the matter again.

Having become "reconciled" with his children of Dalanta, Theodore's task

was much easier. Several thousand peasants helped him in his road-making,

others carried part of his property to Magdala, and now that the brave

garrison of the Amba could cross the Dalanta plateau without fear, he sent

for them, leaving only a few old men on the mountain beyond the ordinary

number of prisoners' guards. On the 8th of January Bitwaddad Damash, in

command, with the "brave" Goji as his lieutenant, and accompanied by

seven or eight hundred men, started for Wadela. Many left with beating

hearts, trembling at the prospect of meeting the Emperor. He was

worshipped at a distance, but dreaded on his approach. His Majesty,

however, received them very well; but was not over civil to all. Damash he

treated rather coolly; but as he wanted them a little time longer, he did not

say much, nor give them any cause to believe that he was greatly displeased

with them.

A few days after Theodore had reached Dalanta he sent back the Magdala

garrison to the Amba, to accompany thither the prisoners he had brought,

with him,—the Europeans included,—and forwarded by them some

powder, shot, and the instruments belonging to his workmen. Mrs.

Rosenthal was also allowed to accompany the party, and all arrived on the

Amba on the afternoon of the 26th of January. The five Europeans were

sent to us; and on the interpreter's hut being given to Mr. and Mrs.

Rosenthal, the larger one that gentleman had previously occupied was made

over to the other five. We were well pleased to be all together. The new

comers had much to tell us, and we in return gave them an account of our

doings. We were, above all things, rejoiced at the arrival of Mrs. Rosenthal;

our morbid idea having been for months, almost up to the end, that some

flying column would be detached from the main body of our army to cut off

Theodore from the mountain; and our anxiety had been great on account of

Mrs. Rosenthal and her child, as Theodore, according to his system of

hostages, had kept her near him as a security to prevent the Magdala

prisoners from running away.

Messengers now went backwards and forwards daily, sometimes twice in

the same day, between the camp and the amba. At first, we saw with anxiety

the near approach of Theodore and the renewed facility of his

communications with us; but as it was an evil we were powerless to contend

against, we consoled ourselves as best we could, and though fearing the

worst, hoped for the best. One advantage we gained was the facility of

corresponding with Mr. Flad, who always, with great courage, had, ever

since his return from England, on all possible occasions, kept us informed

of Theodore's doings, and of anything he might have said with reference to

the existing difficulties. He wrote to us in the beginning of February to

inform us that, from some, conversation he had had with officers of the

Imperial household, it was his opinion that his Majesty was aware of the

landing of our troops, and had purposely sent to him a chief to find out what

the intentions of our Government were concerning himself, and if there was

still any hope of the matter being peaceably settled.

There is no doubt that for several mouths past, his Majesty had been

advised by his spies that English troops had landed in his country; but under

the difficulties he was placed in at the time, he considered it advisable to

keep silent on the subject. Since he had reached the vicinity of the Amba,

however, he frequently, in his conversation with his people, gave strong

hints that he expected before long to have to contend with the soldiers of

Europe. On the 8th of February Theodore told Mr. Waldmeier, the head of

the workmen—a very intelligent and well-educated man, for whom

Theodore had a great regard, though of late he had somewhat roughly used

him—that he had received news from the coast informing him that the

English had disembarked at Zulla. The following day he sent for Mr. Flad,

and calling him aside, told him, "The people from whom you brought me a

letter, and who you said would come, have arrived and landed at Zulla.

They are coming up by the Salt Plain. Why did they not take a better road?

The one by the Salt Plain is very unhealthy."

Flad explained to him that for troops arriving from India, that road was the

best, as they would in three or four days reach the highlands of Agam.

Theodore said, "We are making roads with great difficulty; for them it will

only be play to make roads everywhere. It seems to me that it is the will of

God that they should come. If He who is above does not kill me, none will

kill me, and if He says, 'You must die,' none can save me: remember the

history of Hezekiah and Sennacherib." Theodore appeared very calm and

composed during that conversation. Two days afterwards he said to some of

his workmen, "I long for the day I shall have the pleasure of seeing a

disciplined European army. I am like Simeon; he was old, but before he

died he rejoiced his heart by holding the Saviour in his arms. I am old, too;

but I hope God will spare me to see them before I die. My soldiers are

nothing compared to a disciplined army, where thousands obey the

command of one man." Evidently he still entertained some vague hope that

the coming event might turn to his advantage, as on another occasion he

said to Mr. Waldmeier, "We have a prophecy in our country that a European

king will meet an Abyssinian one, and that afterwards a king will reign in

Abyssinia greater than any before him. That prophecy is going to be

fulfilled at the present time; but I do not know whether I am the king

alluded to, or if it is some one else."

We were delighted at the receipt of this intelligence; for a long time we

believed that Theodore knew of the landing of our troops, but as he had

never made any mention of the fact we still had our doubts on the subject,

and were somewhat in dread of his first burst of passion on the intelligence

reaching him.

On the 15th of February a letter from the Commander-in-Chief addressed to

Theodore was brought to us by the messenger to whom it had been

entrusted, as he was afraid of handing it over to his Majesty himself. This

placed us in a difficult position; though as regarded the Amharic translation,

it was perhaps as well that it had not reached Theodore, as that version, on

some important points, gave a totally different meaning from that of the

letter itself. I was quite delighted at listening to the Commander-in-Chief's

manly and straightforward language. The letter was as firm as it was

courteous, and I felt happy and proud, even in my captivity, that at last an

English general had torn asunder the veil of false humility which for so long

a time had concealed the bold and haughty spirit of England. We felt

strengthened by the conviction that the hour was come when right and

might would prevail, and the merciless despot who had acted towards us

with such unheard-of treachery would meet his fate.

According to the latest news we had received from the Imperial camp,

Theodore did not seem inclined to vent upon us his disappointment and

anger at seeing all his plans frustrated by the landing of an English army; it

was therefore decided to keep for the present the important and valuable

document that had so accidentally fallen into our hands, as a powerful

weapon to use, should a change take place in the line of conduct Theodore

had adopted since he was made conversant of the fact that force was at last

resorted to to effect our deliverance: for we had our fears, knowing his

changeable and fickle disposition.

Nor did Theodore's peaceful mood last much longer. The Dalanta people,

relying on his promises, and anxious to get rid of his presence, gave him

every assistance in their power, carrying his baggage to the Amba, or

working at the roads under his direction. The honourable way in which he

had kept his word with the people of Dalanta induced the neighbouring

district to send him deputations begging for pardon, and offering to pay him

tribute and send supplies into his camp, if he would proclaim in their favour

the same amnesty he had granted to the Dalanta people. Had Theodore been

wise, even then he had a good opportunity of regaining part of his lost

kingdom; and had he continued to keep to his word, province after

province, disgusted with the cowardice of the rebels, would have returned

to him. But he was too fond of plundering: the peasants did not, according

to his ideas, send sufficient supplies; and as he knew that the district was

exceedingly rich in grain and cattle, regardless of his oath, on the 17th of

February, he gave orders for his soldiers to plunder the peasants' houses.

Taken quite by surprise, very little resistance was offered. Theodore

succeeded beyond his expectations; corn and cattle were now in abundance,

and in order to economize his supplies, he allowed; all the Gondar people

who were still with him, and many of the women and children of runaway

soldiers and chiefs, to leave the camp and go wherever they liked. Since

Ohecheo he had formed the strongest and hardiest of the women of his

camp into a plundering band; he was always much pleased with their

bravery, and one of them having killed a petty chief, and brought to him the

sword of her adversary, he was so delighted that he gave her a title of rank

and presented her with one of his own pistols. We knew enough of the

Emperor's character to fear that, when once he again took to plundering and

killing, he would lose much of the amenity and gentleness he had of late

displayed, and look upon the arrival of an armed force from England in a

very different light; we were not, therefore, much astonished to hear that he

had again quarrelled with the Europeans around him. It is also not

improbable that a copy of the proclamation the Commander-in-Chief had

sent to the different chiefs may have fallen into his hands about this time, as

one was found after his death amongst his papers. Whatever may have been

the cause of his sudden change, he, without any apparent reason, all at once

regarded his workmen with suspicion, and though he ordered them to be in

constant attendance upon his person, he would not for many days allow

them to work.

Mr. Waldmeier one evening, on returning to his tent to take his evening

meal, entered into conversation with a spy of the Emperor's on the subject

of the advance of the English army. Waldmeier, amongst other things, told

the man that it would be a very unwise act of his Majesty if he did not at

once make friends with the English, as he had not a single friend in the

country. On the officer reporting that conversation, Theodore in a fearful

passion sent for all the Europeans; for a while his rage was such that he

could not speak, but kept walking up and down, looking fiercely at them,

and holding his spear in a threatening attitudes. At last, stopping before Mr.

Waldmeier, he abused him in no measured terms: "Who are you, you dog,

but a donkey, a poor man who came from a far country to be my slave, and

whom I have paid and fed for years? What does a beggar like you know

about my affairs? Are you to dictate to me what I am to do? A King is

coming to treat with a King! What do you know about such matters?"

Theodore then threw himself on the ground and said, "Take my spear and

kill me; but do not revile me." Waldmeier prostrated himself before him and

begged for pardon; the Emperor rose, but refused to grant his request, and

ordered him to rise and follow him.

On the 18th of February Theodore pitched his camp near the ridge of the

Dalanta plateau, and the following day the chiefs of the Amba, with their

telescopes, could perceive several working parties engaged in making the

road down to the Bechelo. Theodore had made about a thousand prisoners

when he had plundered Dalanta, and all of them, under strong escorts, were

set to work for him; but when the road was finished half way, he allowed

them to return to Dalanta.

For a while the communications between the Amba and the camp were

again suspended. The few chiefs and soldiers that had remained at Magdala

viewed with great despondency this last breach of faith of their master, as it

foreboded anything but gratitude towards them for the many privations they

had submitted to in fulfilment of the trust vested in them. With great

difficulty we succeeded in getting a messenger to pass through the valley of

the Bechelo, on account of the disturbed condition of the country since

Dalanta had been plundered. The news he brought was a little more

favourable. His Majesty had reconciled himself with Mr. Waldmeier, and

now treated all his artisans with consideration and kindness. He did not,

however, allow them to work, and they all slept in a tent near his Majesty: a

precaution he had for a short time ceased to take. Often he spoke to his

soldiers, or to the Europeans, about the coming of our troops; sometimes

avowing his intention to fight with them, at other times expressing himself

in a more conciliatory tone. He had hardly mentioned our names of late; he

spoke about Mr. Stern, but, contrary to his habit, not in anger. He referred

several times to a certain letter of Mrs. Flad's, which had given him great

offence some years before. That lady alluded in it to the possible invasion

of the county by the English and French, giving as her opinion that he

would not be afraid. Theodore frequently said that Mrs. Flad was right:

"They are coming, and I do not fear."

On the 14th of March his Majesty, with all his waggons, cannons, and

mortars, reached the valley of the Bechelo. From a letter we received from

Mr. Flad it appears that his Majesty was in a great hurry to reach Magdala.

The Europeans were still treated courteously, but, day and night, were

strictly watched. He evidently received good information of what was going

on in the British camp. To Mr. Waldmeier, who was more than any other in

his confidence, he said, "With love and friendship they will overcome me;

but if they come with other intentions I know they will not spare me, and I

will make a great blood-bath, and afterwards die."

On the 16th he despatched a messenger to the Amba to rejoice his people

with the good news of his approach, and sent us a courteous message. Mr.

Rassam at once wrote to him, complimenting him on his success. Mr.

Rassam is certainly deserving of praise for endeavouring, by every means

in his power, to impress upon his Majesty the fervent friendship he felt for

him, and the sincere admiration and deep devotion which time had only

strengthened, and that even captivity and chains could not destroy. Mr.

Rassam's official position gave him great advantages over the other

captives; he was able to make "friends" of all the royal messengers, of all

the personal attendants, of his Majesty, and of every one on the Amba or in

the camp, who could say a good word for him. Ignorant of the source of Mr.

Rassam's liberality, the chief courtiers, and even his Majesty himself, came

to the conclusion that Mr. Prideaux and myself were very inferior beings—

harmless individuals, whom it would be perfectly absurd to place on a

footing of equality with the open-handed, sweet-talking gentleman, who

alone, and out of mere regard, again congratulated his Majesty.

Theodore was so pleased with Mr. Rassam's letter that early on the 18th he

sent Mr. Flad, his secretary and several officers, with a friendly letter to that

gentleman, and instructed the chief of the Amba to remove at once his

friend's fetters. Theodore, in his letter to Mr. Rassam, forgetting that he

himself had on several occasions made mention of his fetters, said that he

had no quarrel with him, and that when he had sent him to Magdala he had

only told his people to watch him, but out of precaution they put him in

chains. He sent him also 2,000 dollars for the money and things Flad had

brought with him, and said that, on account of the rebellious condition of

the country, he had not been able to forward them, and hoped he would, at

the same time, accept a present of a hundred sheep and fifty cows. No one

else was included in the order; and I confess that we were foolish enough to

feel this disappointment bitterly. Probably twenty months of captivity

weakens the mind as well as the body, as at other times we should not have

given even a thought to the matter. Even as it was we soon forgot all about

it, wisely remembering that freedom and liberty would be ours when the

British flag should float over our former gaol. It appears that our

displeasure had been remarked, and a spy started at once for the camp to

inform his Majesty that we were angry at our chains not being opened.

Mr. Flad returned that evening to the Imperial camp, already pitched on the

northern banks of the Bechelo; and the following morning the Emperor sent

for him and asked him if he had seen us all, and if we were looking well. He

inquired especially about Mr. Prideaux and myself; Flad told his Majesty

that we were in good health, but sorry that he had made a difference

between us and Mr. Rassam. At this the Emperor, smiling all the while,

said:—"Yes, I have heard of it: when they were put in chains by my people

Mr. Rassam did not say a word, but both of them looked angrily at the

chains. I have no anger against them, nor have they done me any wrong; as

soon as I shall meet Mr. Rassam I will take off their chains also."

Mr. Flad explained to his Majesty that we had felt disappointed, as some

one, on Mr. Rassam's chains being ordered to be opened, had come to the

conclusion that the Consul, Dr. Blanc, and Mr. Prideaux would be included

in the same order, and had run on ahead to bring us the miserach (good

news); that Mr. Rassam was also very sorry his two companions were

separated from him, and had asked him the reason why it was so, but as he

did not know his Majesty's motives he could not answer him, &c.

Theodore, still smiling, said to Mr. Flad, "If there is only friendship,

everything will be right."

On the evening of the 25th of March, his Majesty pitched his camp on the

small plateau of Islamgee; he had brought his cannons and even the monster

mortar as far as the foot of the ascent, and was hard at work making the

road required for them to be dragged up.

Early on the morning of the 26th, the priests of the Amba, in full

canonicals, carrying crosses and gaily-tinselled umbrellas, went to Islamgee

to congratulate the Emperor on his safe arrival. Theodore received them

with great courtesy, and shortly afterwards dismissed them, saying, "Go

back, my fathers, be of good cheer; if I have money I will share it with you.

My clothes will be yours, and with my corn I will feed you." They were on

the point of starting when an old bigoted priest, who had always shown

himself badly disposed towards us, turned round and addressed his Majesty

in the following terms:—"Oh, my King, do not abandon your religion!"

Theodore, quite surprised, inquired of him what he meant. The priest, rather

excited, exclaimed, in a loud voice, "You do not fast, you observe no more

the feasts of the saints! I fear that you will soon follow entirely the religion

of the Franks." Theodore turned towards some of the Europeans that stood

near him and said, "Did I ever inquire of you about your religion? Did I

ever show any desire to follow your creed?" They all replied, "Certainly

not." Theodore then addressed the priests, who were listening with dismay

to this conversation, and told them, "Judge this man." The priests did not

consult long, and with one accord gave as their decision, that "the man who

insults his king is worthy of death." On that, the soldiers fell upon the old

priest, tore off his clothes, and would have, killed him on the spot had not

Theodore mitigated the punishment. He ordered him to be put in chains,

sent to the Amba, and for seven days not to be allowed either bread or

water.

Another priest, who had also on a former occasion grossly insulted his

Majesty, was sent up to the prison at the same time. That priest had said to

some of the Emperor's spies that their master wore three matabs: [Footnote:

Matab : a string made of blue silk, and worn round the neck as the sign of

Christianity in Abyssinia.] one, because he was a Mussulman, having burnt

the churches; the second because he was a Frank, never observing the fast

days; the third, to make the people believe he was a Christian.

The following morning we were awoke by the merry elelta —the shrill cry

of joy uttered by the Abyssinian beau sexe on great and happy events. On

this occasion a peculiar mixture of joyous and plaintive strains slightly

modified its usual character, and it was a sharp but also tremulous sound

that greeted the arrival of the Emperor Theodore on the Amba. Carpets

were at once spread on the open space in front of his house, the throne was

brought out and decked with gorgeous silks, and the state umbrella unfolded

to protect the reclining Emperor from the hot rays of the sun. We expected,

on seeing all these preparations made and the large number of courtiers and

officers assembled in front, that before long we would be called for, and

that something similar to the trial and reconciliation of Zagé was going to

be acted over again. We were, however, mistaken: it was on account of

some private affairs that the Emperor, abandoning for a day his work, had

called a court of justice.

For a long time various charges had been whispered against two of the

chiefs of the Amba, Ras Bisawar and Bitwaddad Damash. His Majesty now

desired to investigate them; he listened quietly to the accusers, and having

heard the defence, he asked the opinion of the chiefs around him. They

advised him to forgive them on account of their former good services, but

that they should not be trusted any more. Had not a chief, they said,

deserted a few nights before—a feat he could not have accomplished had

not several of the garrison helped him in his escape?—and moreover,

should an enemy present himself before the Amba during one of the

Emperor's absences, they would most probably quarrel amongst themselves

instead of defending the place. The Emperor accepted their decision and

said that he would send a new garrison, that the former one should proceed

that very day to his camp, and that as their store of grain would only be a

burden to them, they should leave it behind; he would give orders to the

writers to make out a correct account of all they had, and, to oblige them ,

he would keep the grain himself and pay them the value in money. He

afterwards sent for the two priests he had imprisoned the day before,

released them from their fetters, and told them that he forgave them, but

that they must leave his country at once. On going away, he sent word by

Samuel to Mr. Rassam that he had intended to come and see him but that he

felt too tired; he added, "Your people are near; they are coming to deliver

you."

The soldiers of the garrison were greatly annoyed at having to leave, and

were much pleased early the next morning to learn that Theodore had

rescinded his order. He had, he said, pardoned them on account of their long

and faithful services. The Ras was put on "half-pay," and a new

commandant, Bitwaddad Hassanié, sent to take over the charge, while the

garrison was reinforced by some 400 musketeers.

It is probable that Theodore wanted simply to know what amount of corn

the garrison possessed, as he might perhaps require it himself before long,

and possibly also the clemency shown by him was due to his being pleased

at the soldiers having complied with his orders and purchased grain, as he

had directed them, with the money he had a short time before given them.

CHAPTER XIX.

We are counted by the new Ras, and condemned to sleep in One Hut—

Theodore's Second Visit to the Amba—Sends for Mr. Rassam and gives

orders that Prideaux and myself should have our Chains taken off—The

Operation described—Our Reception by the Emperor—We are sent for to

see "Sebastopol" landed on Islamgee—Conversation with his Majesty—

The remaining Prisoners are freed from their Fetters—Theodore is unable

to Plunder his own property.

On the 28th of March, all of us, with the exception of Mr. Rassam, were

called out and made to stand in a line to be counted by the new Ras; then at

about ten at night, as we were undressing, Samuel came to inform us that he

had received orders to put us all, with the exception of Mr. Rassam, in one

hut for that night, but that as none of our huts was large enough, he had

obtained leave that we should be distributed into two. Cameron, Mr.

Rosenthal, and Mr. Kerans were made to join us company, and four

villanous-looking rascals, with lighted candles burning all night, were

posted inside the door to prevent our going out. Samuel and two chiefs slept

in Mr. Rassam's room, and I strongly suspect that Samuel was on that

occasion more in the position of a prisoner than a guardian.

We slept but little, expecting that the morning would bring some change for

the worse. To our day guards some ten or fifteen of the greatest scoundrels

of the camp had been recently added, and we felt rather anxious when we

learnt early the next morning that Theodore had sent word he would come

up in the course of the day to muster the garrison.

At about three in the afternoon some of our servants came rushing into our

hut to tell us that Theodore had arrived on the Amba, and that he appeared

to be a little drunk. Shortly afterwards Mr. Flad came with a message to Mr.

Rassam from the Emperor, to the effect that if his Majesty had time he

would send for him after his return from the church. A red-flannel tent, the

sign of royalty, was, in the meanwhile, pitched in the plain, and all around

carpets were spread. When Theodore issued from the church he was in a

great passion, seized a priest by the beard, and said to him, "You say that I

want to change my religion; before any one could force me to do so I would

cut my throat." He then thrust his spear with violence into the ground,

"fakered," cursed the Bishop,—in a word, acted in all respects as if drunk or

mad. He called Mr. Meyer, who was standing at a short distance from him,

and told him to go to Mr. Rassam with the message, "Your people are

coming. I put you in chains for that purpose. I have not obtained what I

wanted. Come to me, and in the same dress you used to wear before."

We all felt very nervous about the interview, as Theodore seemed in a bad

disposition; however, all went on well. As soon as Mr. Rassam approached

the tent, Theodore advanced a few steps to meet him, shook hands with

him, and asked him to sit down. He then said, "I cannot say that I could not

bring my throne today, as you are aware that it is at Magdala; but out of

respect for my friend the Queen, whom you represent here, I desire to sit on

the same carpet as yourself." After a while, he said to Mr. Rassam, "Those

two persons who came with you are neither my friends nor my enemies, but

if you consent to become their security, I will have their chains opened." On

that Mr. Rassam rose, and said, "Not only will I become their security, but

should they do anything displeasing to your Majesty, do not say it is Blanc

or Prideaux, but that Rassam did it." Theodore then asked Mr. Rassam to

send two persons to have our chains taken off, and as his Majesty insisted

upon it, Mr. Rassam mentioned Mr. Flad and Samuel.

The servants had heard the good news and rushed in before Flad came to us

with the welcome intelligence. On the arrival of Flad and Samuel, we were

taken to Mr. Rassam's house, where Mr. Flad delivered to us from his

Majesty the following message:—"You are neither my friends nor my

enemies. I do not know who you are. I chained you because I chained Mr.

Rassam: now I open your chains because he promised to be your security. If

you run away it will be a shame for you and for me."

On that we were told to sit down; an iron wedge was first hammered in

where the ring was joined, and when the intervening space was considered

sufficient, three or four loops of strong leather rope were passed inside the

irons, and we were told to put one leg on a large stone brought in for the

purpose. On each side a long pole was then fixed in the leather loops, and

five or six men pulled on them with all their strength, using the stone as a

"point d'appui" for the lever. As the leather thongs acted on the iron ring,

little by little it gave way and stretched out, until at last it was wide enough

to pass over the foot: the operation was then performed on the other leg. It

took at least half an hour to take mine off, and even more to open

Prideaux's. Though we were delighted at the prospect of having again the

free use of our limbs, we did not enjoy the rude operation at all; and

although (as we were in favour) the soldiers did their best not to hurt us,

still the pain was at times quite unbearable, as the "point d'appui" now and

then slipped from the stone to the chain itself, and pressing on the shin it

seemed to us as if the leg would be crushed to pieces.

At first we could hardly walk. Our legs seemed to us as light as feathers; we

could not guide them, and we staggered very much like drunken men: if we

met with a small stone in our way, we involuntarily lifted up the foot to a

ridiculous height. For days the limb was painful, and the slightest exertion

was followed by great fatigue.

Theodore having expressed his desire that we should present ourselves

before him in uniform, we dressed ourselves immediately the chains were

taken off. As I was the first to get rid of my twenty-one months' friends, I

was ready when Prideaux came in; but no sooner had he begun taking off

his prison garb to dress himself, than messenger after messenger rushed in,

sent from Theodore to hurry us on. Well knowing the fickle disposition of

their master, all the chiefs present, Samuel, the guards, every one kept

continually shouting out to Prideaux, "Make haste, make haste!" Flurried,

and unaccustomed since so many months to the civilized way of putting on

his clothes, and unable to guide his feet properly, in his hurry he tore his

uniform trousers almost in two. But no one _would hear of waiting any

longer: off we must go. Luckily a few pins were at hand, and what with his

cap as a screen, the accident, if not repaired, was hidden. On reaching the

Imperial tent, his Majesty, after greeting us cordially, said, "I chained you

because your people believed that I was not a strong king; now that your

masters are coming I release you to show them that I am not afraid. Fear

not; Christ is my witness, and God knows, that I have nothing in my heart

against you three. You came to this country knowing what the Consul had

done. Do not fear, nothing will happen to you. Sit down."

Once seated he ordered some tej to be given to us, and conversed with Mr.

Rassam; amongst other things he said, "I am like a woman in the family

way, and know not if it will be an abortion, a girl or a boy; I hope it will be

a boy. Some men die when they are young, some at middle age, some when

they are old; some are prematurely cut off, but what my end will be, God

only knows." He then introduced his son to Mr. Rassam. He inquired if we

had carpets, and if our houses were comfortable; and on Mr. Rassam telling

him that by his favour we had everything we required, and that his Majesty

would be pleased if he saw the nice home he had, Theodore looking up to

heaven said, "My friend, believe me, my heart loves you; ask me for

whatever you like, even for my own flesh, and I will give it to you."

His Majesty, during the whole of the interview, was most courteous and

appeared much pleased with Mr. Rassam's answers, and laughed heartily

more than once. When he dismissed us, he sent his son and the Europeans

to accompany us to our huts.