The Ras passed an anxious, sleepless night; at day-dawn he and his friends

went upon the small hillock near the prison, and telescope in hand

anxiously watched the Galla plain. Hours passed away, and they saw

nothing. What had occurred? why had not Damash and his men come back?

such were the questions every, one asked: the old men shook their heads;

they had fought in their days in the Galla country, and knew the valour of

these savage horsemen. Even our old spy, Abu Falek, probably to see what

we would say exclaimed, "That fool Damash had the impudence to make a

raid in the Galla country, when even Theodore himself could not go there

now." At last the welcome intelligence that Damash and his men were

coming back, spread like wild-fire all over the mountain: they had been

seen descending a steep ravine, not the road they had taken on going, but a

shorter one. Soon afterwards horses and men were perceived on the plain;

and something like confusion, and cattle being hurried down could be made

out by the glasses. The party from the garrison were seen to halt at a short

distance from the ravine they had descended, and march on very slowly.

Something was wrong evidently; horsemen were at once despatched by the

Ras to ascertain the result of the expedition. They returned with a doleful

tale, and the Amba soon rang with the wailing of widows and orphans;

eleven dead, thirty wounded, scores of fire-arms lost, the fugitives at large,

was in sum the intelligence they brought back to the desponding Ras.

A Galla renegade had the night before led Damash and his men straight to

the village of the chief in whose company they had been seen in the

morning, and under whose hospitable roof he justly surmised that they

would spend the night. At first all succeeded as they had expected. They

reached the doomed village an hour before day-dawn, and surrounded at

once the house of the chief, whilst a small body was sent to search and

plunder the village itself. A fearful massacre took place; surprised in their

sleep, the men were murdered before they were aware of the presence of the

enemy; only a few were spared, together with some women and children,

by the less blood-thirsty of these midnight assassins. Before retiring to rest,

Meshisha and Comfou, thinking that perhaps an attempt might be made to

capture them, advised the chief to be on his guard, and proposed to sleep

with him in a small broken-down hut at some distance from his house.

Fortunately for them and the chief, they adopted that prudent course; awoke

by the cries and shouts in the village, they bridled their ready-saddled

steeds, and were off before even their presence had been suspected.

Damash collected his men, and with his prisoners and plunder at once

retraced his steps, glorying in his great deed and rejoicing in his success; it

is true he had not caught the fugitives, but after all that was the Ras's

business. He had planned the expedition, carried fire and sword into the

Galla country; and without the loss of a single man was returning to the

Amba with prisoners, horses, cows, mules, and other spoils of war. He

knew how pleased Theodore would be, and he fancied himself already the

fortunate successor of the disgraced Ras. He was within a few hundred

yards of the short road he intended to take on his way back, leading from

the Tanta plateau to the valley below Magdala, when he saw on the distant

horizon a few horsemen riding towards him at full speed. The cattle and

prisoners under charge of Goji and a few men were already engaged in the

narrow road, and retreat was impossible. He placed his gunmen so as to

face the horsemen, only a dozen, hoping to scare that handful off by the

very sight of his large force; but he was mistaken. Brave Mahomed Hamza

had the blood of his relations to avenge, and, though at the head of only

twelve men, he bravely charged the 400 Amhara soldiers. A shot struck him

in the forehead, and he fell dead from his horse. His companions, however,

before the Amharas could reload, made a second brilliant charge, avenged

their chief, and carried away the body all were anxious to mutilate. More

horsemen came pouring in from all directions; the war-cry was echoed far

and wide; men, women, and children assailed the Amharas with lances and

stones. Mahomed's brothers, now supported by fifty lances, charged again

and again the affrighted enemy, and drove them like sheep to the very brink

of the precipice.

Damash, however, had not come to fight but to slay; he was only brave

when he had prisoners to bully, defenceless men to murder, and children to

reduce to slavery: the cattle had reached the valley below and the road was

clear, so throwing away his tiger's skin, his shield, his pistols, his gun, and

abandoning his horses, he gave the example of the sauve qui peut , and

rolled rather than ran down the steep descent. His example was followed by

all the Amharas. A complete rout followed; the ground was strewed with

matchlocks, spears, and shields; wounded and dead were alike abandoned

on the battlefield. The Gallas did not follow them down the ravine as they

could not charge on the broken ground below; they, however, killed several

with sharp stones—a dreadful weapon in a Galla's hand—as their terrified

foe hurried down the narrow pass and tumbled one over the other in their

eagerness to reach the valley, where these cowards knew well that they

would be safe.

Almost all the wounded came to me; and for twelve hours I was busy

bandaging and dressing their wounds. In several cases, where I knew that

recovery was impossible, I informed the relations of the fact; as otherwise

their death would have been laid to me, a rather serious matter in our

critical position. Those thus warned always sought native advice, but they

found out very soon that charms and amulets were of no avail, and that my

prognostic had been but too true. I remember one case: a chief who had

often been on guard at night over our prison had his left leg completely

smashed by a stone; without entering into professional details, suffice it to

say that I at once pronounced amputation as the only possible remedy; but

to please the chiefs, who took a great interest in him, I agreed to dress his

wound for a week, and after that time, should I be still of the same opinion

to inform them of it. He had a small godjo built in our inclosure, and

remained there until I gave for the second time as my opinion that nothing

could save his life but immediate amputation. He was on that taken to his

house and made over to a Shoa doctor, who promised not only to save his

life but also the limb. The poor man was tortured by that ignorant quack for

a week or ten days, until death put an end to his misery.

Two days after, on a female spy reporting that in the ravine where the

Amharas had been slaughtered, she had seen two wounded men hidden

among the bushes, and still alive; an old chief, also a Galla renegade, with a

few hundred men, was ordered to proceed to the spot, and endeavour to

bring them back and bury the dead; they were on no account to engage in

any action with the Gallas, but to retreat at once should he meet with

resistance. He saw no enemy except his old comrade Comfou, who, from a

rock above, fired at them with his rifle, without wounding or killing any

one; they returned his fire, but to no purpose, and, having fulfilled their

instructions, brought in the two wounded men: both, however, died shortly

afterwards. One of them had his right arm and left leg broken; moreover, a

spear had cut open the abdominal integuments, and the bowels protruded:

he said that he had suffered greatly from thirst, but that his greatest trouble

was, with his left hand, to keep off the vultures from tearing his intestines.

The Ras, it is true, was now in a worse plight than before; but this time not

alone. Damash had abandoned his men, run away, and lost the gun, pistols,

and horse the Emperor had given, or rather lent, him. Many of the petty

chiefs and soldiers had followed Damash's example, and some twenty-five

matchlocks could not he accounted for, and of spears and shields the

number missing was still greater. By-the-by, Damash pretended to be

wounded, and for a long time we saw nothing of him, a circumstance at

which we rejoiced extremely, but his friends told us that he was only

suffering from a few excoriations due to his rather too rapid retreat.

If force had failed, perhaps negotiations might succeed. It was known that

the two fugitives were still living in some of the villages belonging to the

relations of Mahomed, awaiting the return of a messenger they had sent to

the Galla Queen Mastiate, whose camp was a few days distant. The

Magdala chiefs, therefore, proposed to the Gallas in their power that if they

could induce their relations to give up the two fugitives, with the things

they had taken away with them, they would set them all—men, women, and

children—free, and restore the cattle that had been plundered. A woman,

the wife of one of the principal men captured, volunteered to go. To the

honour of the Gallas, they proudly and with scorn refused to give up their

guests: they preferred to allow their relatives to linger in chains at Magdala,

and abandon them to tortures and death, rather than obtain their release by a

dishonourable action.

The Magdala magnates had now to give up all hope of redeeming their

conduct in the eyes of Theodore; the good understanding between them was

much shaken: they taxed one another, when in their cups, with cowardice,

sent messengers separately to the Emperor, accusing one another, and lived

in as much dread of the arrival of an Imperial messenger as we did

ourselves. But Theodore, surrounded by difficulties, almost cut off from his

amba, was far too cunning to show his displeasure: his letter on the subject

was perfect. What if two of his servants had run away? they were

unfaithful, and he was only too glad that they had left his amba; as for the

arms lost, what did it matter? he had more to give them; and when he came

they should take their revenge. A few, not many, were taken in, but all

pretended to be so, and several only awaited a favourable opportunity to

follow the example of those they had endeavoured to capture.

Every one suspected that Mastiate, the Galla Queen, would resent the foray

made in her country, and avenge the death of her subjects so treacherously

murdered. She would probably, they feared, destroy their crops at the foot

of the Amba, stop the market, and starve out the place. She had, they knew,

faithful allies in Comfou and Meshisha, and as the latter had been almost

brought up on the mountain, and knew the many paths by which to lead; at

night, the Galla host, much anxiety, therefore, prevailed, and great

precautions were taken to protect the Amba against a sudden attack.

I believe that it was indeed Mastiate's plan, and that she was on the point of

executing it when a serious danger from, another side required her presence.

Wakshum Gobazé, at the head of a powerful army, had invaded her

dominions.

Our days of calm repose were at an end; if it was not one rebel chief or the

other that threatened the Amba, it was the good news from home that at last

an expedition for our deliverance had been decided upon, or the less

welcome information that the King was about to move in our direction; and

one excitement had hardly subsided before we were again a prey to another

—one day full of hope, the next, perhaps, desponding and cast down.

Watshum Gobazé's career, had been full of adventure. As a young man he

accompanied his father, Wakshum Gabra Medhin, the hereditary chief of

Lasta, to the Imperial camp. On Theodore's first campaign in Shoa, which

ended in the submission of that country, Gobazé's father fell under

Theodore's displeasure, and was on the point of being executed when the

Bishop interfered, and, as he was of great use to Theodore at the time, his

request was granted. However, not long afterwards, Gobazé and his father

seized their opportunity, deserted from Theodore's army, and retired into

Lasta. They had not much difficulty in inducing the mountaineers to

espouse their cause, and declare themselves independent. Theodore deputed

to suppress that insurrection the rebel's own cousin, called Wakshum Teferi,

a brave soldier and splendid horseman. He pursued his relative, totally

defeated his army, and brought him a chained prisoner to the foot of the

throne. Theodore was at the time in Wadela, a high plateau situate between

Lasta and Begemder. He condemned the rebel chief to death; and as but few

trees are to be found on that elevated plateau, he had him hung on the one

near which his tent was pitched, so that the body of his enemy might be

seen far and wide. Gobazé had managed to escape; and some time

afterwards, Theodore, who was afraid of Wakshum Teferi, as he was

beloved and admired by the soldiers, put him in chains,—forgetting that the

man had served him so faithfully as even to bring to the scaffold his blood

relation, —on the pretext that he had willingly allowed Gobazé to escape.

Gobazé for a while remained hidden in the fastnesses of the high mountains

of Lasta, but no sooner did he perceive that the Emperor's power was

weakened and that the peasants were discontented with his tyrannical rule,

than he came forth from his retreat, and having collected around him some

of the former followers of his father, hoisted the standard of rebellion, and

loudly proclaimed himself the avenger of his race. All Lasta soon

acknowledged him. His rule was mild; and before long Gobazé found

himself at the head of a considerable force. He advanced in the direction of

Tigré, subdued the provinces of Enderta and Wajjerat, marched into Tigré

proper, conquered Theodore's lieutenant, and left there his deputy, Dejatch

Kassa. He himself returned to Lasta, having in view the extension of his

power towards Yedjow and the Galla country, so as to protect Lasta from

being invaded by these tribes during his proposed conquest of the Amhara

country. Circumstances were greatly in his favour, and for a while he was

the man to whom all Abyssinia looked to as their future ruler. On his return

to Lasta he was at once acknowledged by Wadela, and at the same time

some runaway chiefs of Yedjow having come to him, he availed himself of

their assistance to make himself master of that province. He had some

trouble, however, in settling it, as part of it was strongly in favour of an

alliance with the Wallo Gallas: he deemed it the wisest course, therefore, to

invade the Wallo country after the rainy season, and dictate his terms. He

detached a small force, and sent with it one of his relations to receive the

submission of Dalanta; and not long afterwards Dahonte was evacuated by

the Gallas, and occupied by his troops. In the beginning of September he

entered the Wallo Galla country by its north-eastern frontier, not far from

Lake Haïk. On the intelligence reaching Queen Mastiate she hastened to

oppose his march, and encamped a few miles in advance of his army, on a

large plain, where her splendid cavalry would have all advantage. For at

least a fortnight or three weeks the two armies remained in front of each

other; Gobazé awaiting his enemy on the broken ground he had encamped

upon, and where the Galla horse could not charge, but where his gunmen

would be all-powerful; while the Queen, on her side, would not leave the

ground she had chosen, and where she was almost certain of victory.

Gobazé had been long before in communication with the Bishop and with

Mr. Rassam. Before the rainy season of 1867, he had sent word to the

Bishop that he was coming to Magdala, presented him a few hundred

dollars, and asked him to afford all the assistance in his power should he

advance towards the place. The Bishop said he would do his utmost, and

that as soon as the Amba was invested he would leave no stone, unturned to

facilitate his plans. Gobazé sent back word that if the Bishop would secure

him the services of Damash, Goji, and the Ras (the three who had all the

garrison under their joint command), that he would come at once. This

request was simply absurd; if we had been able to gain over these men to

our cause, we could have dispensed with the presence of Gobazé altogether.

What the Bishop proposed was, that Gobazé should encamp at Islamgee;

the moment he appeared below the mountain, the Bishop would supply us

and some men upon whom he could depend with fire-arms and

ammunition. We should in the meanwhile open our chains with the

assistance of our servants, and arm all those amongst them who could be

trusted; and on the Bishop being informed, that we were ready, he would

come out in full canonicals, carrying the holy cross, and excommunicate

Theodore and every one who adhered to him, placing under an irrevocable

curse all who attempted to arrest him or us. Our party, including

Portuguese, natives of Massowah, and messengers, would have amounted

to at least twenty-five; the Bishop could bring fifty men, and surround

himself with about 200 priests and defteras, so as to form a mixed sortie;

all, however, ready to fight in case of need. Should persuasion or threats fail

to force the way to the gate, they were to shoot down any one attempting to

molest us in our advance. Arrived at the gate, the Bishop and the priests

would stand before the inner door, whilst the armed party would seize upon

the outer gate and hold it until the Wakshum and his men, ready at hand,

would march in and take possession of the fort.

The plan was a very good one, and no doubt would have succeeded. We

knew well, that no pity would have been shown to us had we been

recaptured, and we would have fallen one after the other, rather than allow

ourselves to be made prisoners again. In presence of even a handful of men,

determined to sell their lives dearly, few of the soldiers would have

ventured on an open attack; the affair would have been sudden, and the

garrison taken by surprise: moreover, we had to deal with bigoted people,

and many who might have rushed upon us, would have been kept back by

the presence of the Bishop, and would kiss the ground before his feet rather

than encounter his dreaded excommunication. The Bishop informed Gobazé

of this plan, and for days we lived in a fearful state of excitement, always

hoping that the messenger would return with the grateful intelligence that

Gobazé had accepted it. However, we were doomed to disappointment:

Gobazé did not approve the suggestion; he sent word to the Bishop, "It is

better for me to go to Begemder and attack there my blood enemy: only

give me your blessing. On the fall of Theodore, the Amba belongs to me; it

is far preferable that I should fight him instead of attacking Magdala, as you

know well that we cannot take forts." The blessing was duly given; but

Gobazé thought better of it: he did not venture to attack the murderer of his

father, and a few days afterwards we heard that he had marched into

Yedjow. Gobazé behaved always very well towards us; he assisted, as much

as lay in his power, our messengers on their way to the coast, and was

anxious to effect our deliverance; unfortunately he had not sufficient

courage to fight when Theodore was his opponent.

Gobazé and Mastiate after a time got tired of staring at one another. The

latter was aware that before long she would have to deal with even a more

serious enemy, in the person of her rival Workite, and she would willingly

have come to terms. She sent a horse to Gobazé as a peace-offering, but he

returned the present, accompanied with a parcel of cotton and a spindle,

with a message to the effect that she had nothing to do with horses, and as

her occupation was to spin cotton, he had sent her the necessary articles.

Gobazé, however, shortly afterwards heard that in Tigré, Dejatch Kassa,

who for some months had abandoned his cause, had made himself very

powerful, and marched upon Adowa. Supplies also began to run short in his

camp, whilst Mastiate being in her own country, could draw them with all

facility; he therefore retraced his steps towards Yedjow. Mastiate followed

him in the rear, only biding her time to fall upon him when a favourable

opportunity presented itself. Gobazé found his position difficult, and made

advances. Mastiate saw her advantage and made her own terms. She

promised not to interfere in the affairs of Yedjow, on condition that he made

over to her the provinces of Dahonte and Dalanta, which he had shortly

before occupied. He agreed, and peace was made between the two parties; it

was even reported that an offensive and defensive alliance had been

concluded between them; but this could hardly have been the case, as soon

afterwards, when Mastiate was hard pressed by Menilek, her new ally did

not afford her any assistance.

To us these constant changes of rulers was most annoying, more so as we

had no money, and were constantly obliged to make presents to the new

chiefs appointed by the conqueror of the day. We had hardly made "friends"

with the shums (governors) Theodore had left in those provinces, than we

had to open communications with the deputies of the Galla Queen, and

again with those of Gobazé on the evacuation of those districts by the

Gallas, and a fourth time on their reoccupation by the Gallas: we had to

ensure their neutrality, at least,—for they had already plundered several of

our messengers—by suitable offerings and promises of more, should they

favour our cause. In one respect we were very fortunate: on our arrival we

were saved from much discomfort, if not from something worse, by the

money the Emperor gave to his workmen; who made it over to us. During

the rainy season we were again saved from starvation by a few dollars I had

kept in reserve; for the third time, everything appeared desperate, and we

were so reduced that some sold and others were talking of selling their

mules and anything available, when a messenger at last reached us with a

few hundred dollars.

Whilst Mastiate was negotiating with Gobaz, her son wrote to Mr. Rassam

and to the Bishop. He asked Mr. Rassam to use his influence and give him

the mountain, promising in return to treat us honourably if we liked to

remain in his country, or enable us to reach the coast if we desired to return

to our own native land. To the Bishop he promised all protection; he would

allow him to take away his property, and would not injure what he called

"his idols."

So long as we could get out of the clutches of Theodore, it did not matter

much into whose hands we fell: not that we ever expected,—such, at least,

was the opinion of the majority amongst us,—that we should be allowed to

leave the country: but, at all events, we should not be in daily fear of our

lives, of tortures, and of starvation, as we were then. We should not have

liked to fall into the hands of the peasants or of some petty chief: the first

would have at once put us to death out of hatred to the white men; the

second, most probably would have ill-treated us or have sold us to the

highest bidder. The great rebels would have acted differently: we should

have been, for a time, at least, comparatively free, and allowed to depart on

a suitable ransom being given. Therefore, to Ali, to Gobaz, to Ahmed the

son of Mastiate, or to Menilek the King of Shoa, Mr. Rassam's answer was

always the same, "Come; invest this place, and then we will see what we

can do for you."

It amused us sometimes to watch all these different rivals of Theodore, each

of them endeavouring to seize upon Magdala even before Theodore was

quite out of the way. Gobazé and Menilek, had both in view to make

themselves rulers of Abyssinia, by the possession of Magdala: (indeed the

latter had also written before the rainy season, informing the Bishop of his

coming to take possession of his amba, and requesting the bishop to take

care of his property.) Apart from the great prestige it would confer upon

them, they would obtain the three things they rightly judged would most

likely insure the fulfilment of their ambitious views: viz., the throne, the

Bishop, and the English prisoners. All wanted Mr. Bassam, not merely to

help them, but to give them the mountain: they were aware that the chiefs

were on friendly terms with us, and supposed that we were in possession of

fabulous sums of money, so that, by means of friendship and bribery, we

might open the gates to the candidate we selected.

Magdala could only become theirs by treachery: in their immense armies,

they could not have found twenty men with sufficient courage to venture on

an assault. Magdala had the reputation of being impregnable; and, indeed,

against natives badly armed, it was very nearly so. Even Theodore only

took possession of it because the Galla garrison, through fear, evacuated the

place during the night. He had pitched his camp at the foot of the Amba,

and attempted an assault; but soon retired from his hopeless task before the

shower of missiles thrown from above. It was not until several days after

the Gallas had retired, that one of the chiefs, suspecting the place to be

empty, cautiously ventured to ascertain the fact, and returned to inform

Theodore that he might quietly walk in as the enemy had disappeared.

CHAPTER XV

Death of Abouna Salama—Sketch of his Life and Career—Grievances of

Theodore against him—His Imprisonment at Magdala—The Wallo Gallas

—Their Habits and Customs—Menilek appears with an Army in the Galla

Country—His Policy—Advice sent to him by Mr. Rassam—He invests

Magdala and fires a feu-de-joie —The Queen's Behaviour —Steps taken by

the Chiefs—Our Position not Improved—The Effects of Smoke on Menilek

—Our Disappointment followed by Great Joy—We receive News of the

Landing of British Troops.

On the 25th of October, Abouna Salama (the Bishop of Abyssinia) died

after a long and painful illness.

Abouna Salama was in many respects a remarkable man. Two such

characters as Theodore and himself are seldom met with at the same time in

those distant lands. Both ambitious, both proud, both passionate, it was

inevitable that sooner or later they must come into collision, and the

stronger crush the weaker.

Abyssinia had been for years without a bishop. Priests could no more be

consecrated, nor new churches dedicated to Christian worship, as the ark

could not contain the tabot blessed by the bishop of the land. Ras Ali,

although outwardly a Christian and belonging to a converted family, had

still too many connections amongst the Mussulman Gallas, his true friends

and supporters, to care for more than an apparent profession of the State

religion, and troubled himself very little about the inconvenience to which

the priesthood was subjected by the long-continued vacancy of the

bishopric.

Dejatch Oubié was at that time the semi-independent ruler of Tigré. From

the position of a simple governor he had gradually risen to power, and now

at the head of a large army strove for the title of Ras. Though still on

apparent terms of friendship with Ras Ali, even to a certain degree

acknowledging him as his superior, he was all the while secretly exerting

his influence to overthrow the Ras's power in order to reign in his stead. For

these reasons he despatched some of his chiefs, with Monsignor de Jacobis,

an Italian nobleman and Roman Catholic bishop at Massowah, to Egypt, to

obtain a bishop for the Abyssinian see; [Footnote: According to the rules of

the Abyssinian Church, the bishop must be a Coptic priest ordained at

Cairo. The expenses required for the consecration of a bishop amount to

about 10,000 dollars] and in order to secure for himself such a powerful

weapon as the support of the priesthood, he incurred the heavy expense

required for the consecration of an Abouna. De Jacobis made strenuous

efforts to have a bishop anointed who would favour the Roman Catholics;

but he failed, as the Patriarch chose for that dignity a young man who had

received part of his education at an English school at Cairo, and whose

views were more in favour of Protestantism than of the Copt's long-standing

adversary, the Church of Rome.

Andraos, this young priest, was only in his twentieth year. When informed

that he must leave his monastery and the companionship of the monks his

friends to proceed to the distant and semi-civilized land of Habesch, he

firmly declined the honour proposed for him. He requested his superiors to

fix their choice on a worthier man, declaring himself unfit for the dignity so

suddenly thrust upon him. His objections were not admitted, and as he still

persisted in his refusal, the superior of the convent put him in irons;

wherein he should remain, he was told, until he agreed to obey the head of

the Coptic Church. Andraos gave in; and having been duly anointed and

consecrated Bishop of Abyssinia, under the title of Abouna Salama, with all

the pomps and ceremonies proper to the occasion, started shortly afterwards

in an English man-of-war, reaching Massowah in the beginning of 1841.

Dejatch Oubié received him with great honours; added numerous villages

and large districts to those the hereditary possession of the bishops, and

made every endeavour to attach him to his cause. He succeeded even

beyond his expectations. Abouna Salama, instead of needing the

persuasions of Oubié to join him in the overthrow of Ras Ali, proposed the

attempt. Through his influence Oubié concluded an alliance with Goscho

Beru, the ruler of Godjam. The two chiefs agreed to march on Debra Tabor,

attack Ras Ali, wrest from him the power he had usurped, and divide the

government of Abyssinia, confirming the Bishop's alleged rights to a third

of the revenue of the land.

Oubié and Goscho Beru kept to their engagements, offered battle to Ras Ali

near Debra Tabor, and utterly routed his army; Ras Ali with difficulty

escaping from the field with a small body of well-mounted followers. It so

happened, however, that Oubié celebrated his success in potations too many

and deep. Some of the fugitive soldiers of Ras Ali accidentally entered

Oubié's tent, found their master's conqueror in the condition known as dead

drunk, and availed themselves of his helpless condition to make him their

prisoner. This sudden contretemps changed the aspect of affairs. Certain

well-mounted horsemen galloped after Ras Ali and succeeded in overtaking

him towards evening. He would not at first believe in his good fortune; but

others of his soldiers arriving and confirming the glad tidings, he returned

to Debra Tabor, reunited his scattered followers, and was able to dictate

terms to his captive conqueror. Oubié was pardoned and allowed to return

to Tigré, the Bishop being answerable for his fidelity. Ras Ali treated the

Bishop with all respect, fell at his feet and implored him not to listen to the

calumnies of his enemies, assuring him that the Church had no more

faithful son than himself, nor any more willing to comply with the holy

father's wishes. The Bishop, now on friendly terms with all parties, and all

but worshipped by them, soon made his authority felt; and had not

Theodore risen from obscurity, Abouna Salama would, no doubt, have been

the Hildebrand of Abyssinia.

During the campaigns of Lij Kassa against the ruler of Godjam, and during

that period of revolution ending in the overthrow of Ras Ali, Abouna

Salama retired to his property in Tigré, residing there in peace under the

protection of his friend Oubié. Ever since his arrival in Abyssinia Abouna

Salama had shown the bitterest opposition to the Roman Catholics: an

enmity not so much engendered by conviction, perhaps, as inflamed by the

fact that some of his property had been seized at Jiddah at the instigation of

some Roman Catholic priests, who had through his influence been

plundered, ill-treated, and expelled from Abyssinia. When the intelligence

reached the Abouna that Lij Kassa was marching against Tigré, he publicly

excommunicated him, on the ground that Kassa was the friend of the

Roman Catholics, protected their Bishop, De Jacobis, and wanted to subvert

in favour of the creed of Rome the religion of the land. But Kassa was a

match for the Abouna; he denied the charge, and at the same time stated

"that if Abouna Salama could excommunicate, Abouna de Jacobis could

remove it." The Bishop, alarmed at the influence his enemies might

possibly obtain, offered to recall his anathema, on condition that Kassa

would expel De Jacobis. These terms having been agreed upon, Abouna

Salama shortly afterwards consented to place the crown of Abyssinia on the

usurper's head, and did so in the very church Oubié had erected for his own

coronation, under the name of Theodore II.

Pleased with the Bishop's compliance, Theodore showed him the utmost

respect. He carried his chair, or walked behind him with a lance and shield

as if he was nothing but a follower of his, and on all fit occasions fell down

to the ground in his presence and respectfully kissed his hand. Abouna

Salama for a time believed that his influence over Theodore was

unbounded, as it had been over Ras Ali and Oubié; mistook Theodore's

show of humility for sincere admiration and devotion; and the more humble

Theodore seemed disposed to be, the more arrogant did the Bishop, publicly

show himself. But he had not quite understood the character of the Emperor

he had anointed; and overrating his own importance, at last he made of

Theodore an open and relentless enemy. The crisis came when Abouna

Salama least expected it. One day Theodore went in state to pay him his

respects. Arrived at the Abouna's tent, he informed him of his visit; the

Bishop sent word that he would receive him when convenient, and

meanwhile bade him wait without. Theodore complied; but as time passed

and the Bishop made no appearance, Theodore walked away, the enemy of

his prelate, and burning for revenge.

For years afterwards they lived in open enmity, or enmity slightly masked:

each worked hard at the destruction of the other. If Theodore's reign had

been a peaceful one, the Abouna would have gained the day; but the

Emperor, surrounded as he was by a large army of devoted followers, found

ready listeners to his descriptions of the Bishop's character. Abouna Salama

was never very popular; he was, without being a miser, far from liberal.

Friendship in Abyssinia means presents: it is accepted as such by all; and

every chief, every man of note, who courts popularity, lavishes with an

unsparing hand. The Emperor naturally took advantage of this want of

liberality in the Bishop's character, to contrast it with his own generosity.

He insinuated that the Abouna was only a merchant at heart; that instead of

selling the tribute he received in kind to the people of the country, as was

formerly the custom, he sent it by caravans to Massowah, trafficked with

the Turks, and hoarded all his money in Egypt. Little by little Theodore

worked on the minds of his people, impressing them with the idea that, after

all, the Bishop was only a man like themselves; and, at least in Theodore's

camp, he had already lost much of his prestige when the Emperor spread

the report that his honour had been assailed by the Bishop whom they all

worshipped.

Theodore, when detailing to us his grievances one day on our way to Agau

Medar, introduced the subject of his quarrel with the Abouna. He then

stated as the reason of his enmity against him that, one day when he was

entertaining his officers at a public breakfast, the Bishop, taking advantage

of his absence, and under pretence of confessing the Queen, went into her

tent. When Theodore returned after the breakfast was over, he presented

himself at the door of his wife's apartment, but on being informed that she

was engaged in her religious duties with the Abouna he walked away. In the

evening he returned again to his wife's tent. When he entered, she flew to

him, and sobbing on his neck told him that she had been that day

unwillingly unfaithful to him, having been unable to resist the violence of

the Bishop. He forgave her, he said, because she was innocent; and as for

the suborner of his honour he could not punish him: nothing but death could

avenge such a crime, and how could he lay violent hands on a dignitary of

the Church?—There is no doubt that the whole was an abominable

invention; but Theodore had evidently told the same story over and over

again until at last he had come to believe it himself.

Abouna Salama lost reputation, though, perhaps, few people believed the

Emperor's assertion. But on the principle that if you throw mud some will

stick, the Abouna's character was amongst a certain class fairly gone; and

henceforward his friends were only to be found amongst the King's

enemies, while his foes were Theodore's bosom friends. In public Theodore

still always treated him with respect, though not with such a great show of

humility as before; but he evidently, for the sake of his people, made a

distinction between the official character of the Abouna, respecting it on

account of his Christian faith, and his private one, for which he expressed

the greatest scorn.

For a long while the question of the Church lands was a great deal

discussed between them. Theodore could not tolerate any power in the State

but his own. He had fought hard to be the supreme ruler of Abyssinia; he

had done his utmost to bring the Abouna into contempt, and when he

thought the occasion favourable to do away entirely with his power and

influence, he confiscated all the Church lands and revenues—some of the

Bishop's hereditary property by the same stroke—and placed himself

virtually at the head of the Church. The Abouna's anger knew no bounds.

Naturally of a violent temper, he grossly abused Theodore on every

occasion. Some of their quarrels were most unbecoming; the intense hatred

burning in the prelate's heart showing itself in expressions that ought never

to have fallen from his lips. The Bishop of Abyssinia was never tolerant. I

have mentioned that towards Roman Catholics he was most intolerant. He

persecuted them at every opportunity, and even when himself a prisoner at

Magdala he never sought to obtain the release of an unfortunate Abyssinian

who had been years before cast into chains at his instigation, for the sole

reason that the man had visited Rome and become a convert there. Towards

Protestants he was better inclined; still, he would not hear of "conversions."

Missionaries might instruct, but they had to stop there; and when, as it

happened, some Jews were led by the teachings of the missionaries to

accept Christianity, they had to be baptized and received as members of the

Abyssinian Church. He showed himself on all occasions friendly towards

Europeans, not Roman Catholics, and in time of trouble proved of good

service to the European captives; even helping them with small sums of

money at a time of great scarcity and want. But his friendship was

dangerous. Theodore distrusted, nay, disliked any one who was on friendly

terms with his great enemy; the horrid torture the Europeans suffered at

Azzazoo was due entirely to that cause; and the quarrels or reconciliations

between Church and State always influenced their and our fate. The

Abouna left Azzazoo with the King's camp after the rainy season of 1864.

A serious rebellion had broken out in Shoa, and Theodore, leaving his

prisoners, wives and camp-followers at Magdala, made a quick march

through the Wallo Galla country; but he found the rebels so strong that he

could do nothing against them. He was greatly annoyed at the Bishop's

refusal to accompany him. The Shoa people are of all Abyssinians the most

bigoted, and have the greatest regard for their Abouna; with him in his

camp many of the opposing chiefs would at once have laid down their arms

and returned to their allegiance. But the Bishop, who had in view his fertile

districts in Tigré, proposed accompanying Theodore first to that province;

and after the rebellion had been put down in that part of the kingdom, to

proceed with him to Shoa. Their interview on that occasion was very

stormy; and Theodore must have had great command over himself to have

refrained from extremities. Abouna Salama remained at Magdala, according

to his desire; but a prisoner. He was never put in chains; though it is said

that Theodore had several times resolve it should be done, and even had the

fetters prepared; but he was always restrained by dread of the effect that

such a measure might have on his people. The Bishop was allowed to go as

far as the church, should he desire it; but at night a small guards always

watched outside his house; sometimes even a few of the soldiers passed the

night in the Abouna's apartment. Almost all his servants were spies of the

King. He could trust no one, except a few of his slaves—young Gallas

given to him in former days by Theodore—and a Copt, who, with some

priests, had accompanied the Patriarch David on his visit to Abyssinia:

some of them had accepted the King's service, whilst others, like the Copt

servant I have mentioned, devoted themselves to their compatriot and

bishop.

During the former imprisonment of the captives at Magdala, the intercourse

between the Bishop and them had been very limited. They never saw each

other; but occasionally a young slave of the Bishop's would carry a verbal

message, or a short Arabic note containing some piece of news, generally

some exaggerated rumours of the rebels' doings (always believed by the too

credulous Abouna), or simple inquiries about medicine, &c.

The day of our arrival, and whilst the chiefs were reading Theodore's

instructions concerning us, the young slave above mentioned came up to

Mr. Rosenthal with kind compliments from the Abouna, to inform us that as

far as his master then knew there was nothing bad for the present, but great

fears for the future. The Bishop, we knew, had frequent communications

with the great rebel chiefs (Theodore was also well aware of the fact, and

hated him all the more for it); he had shown himself at all times well

disposed towards us, and as he was as anxious as ourselves to escape from

the power of Theodore, we deemed it of the highest importance to open

communication with him. But the difficulties in the way were enormous.

Nothing would have injured our prospects more than the betrayal of our

intercourse with the Bishop to the Emperor. Samuel in that respect could

not for a long time be trusted; as a deadly enmity existed between himself

and the Bishop. It required all the persuasive powers of Mr. Rassam to bring

on a good understanding between the two; he, however, managed the affair

so skilfully that he not only succeeded, but after mutual explanations, they

became affectionate friends. But, until this difficulty had been overcome,

great precautions were necessary.

The small slave was soon suspected by our vigilant guards. It would have

been dangerous to confide to him anything of importance, for he might at

any time be seized and searched. We therefore employed servant-girls, who

were known to the Bishop, as they had resided on the mountain with the

former captives. The Bishop accepted with eagerness our proposal to escape

from the Amba, and, sanguine as he was hasty, at first gave us great hopes;

but when we came to the details of his plot, as far as we were concerned,

we found it was perfectly ridiculous. He wanted some nitrate of silver in

order to blacken his face, so as to pass unperceived through the gates. Once

free, he was to join either Menilek or the Wakshum, excommunicate and

depose Theodore, and proclaim the rebel emperor in his place. He had

evidently forgotten that the days of Oubié and Ras Ali were gone long ago,

that the man who held Magdala cared but little for excommunication, and

that, deposed or not, Theodore still would virtually be king. The Bishop

might have succeeded, perhaps; but had he been caught, or had it ever been

known that we were parties to his escape, no power in the world would

have saved us from the rage of the infuriated monarch.

After the Bishop's reconciliation with Samuel our relations with him were

more frequent and intimate. He was at all times willing to help us to the

best of his ability, lent as a few dollars when we were hard pressed for

money, wrote to the rebels to protect our messengers, invited them to come

to our release, promising to the successful one his support, and, I believe,

would even have accepted a reconciliation with the man from whom he had

received so many injuries, solely for our sake.

Disappointed in his ambition, deprived of his property, insulted, degraded,

without power, without liberty, Abouna Salama succumbed to the too

common temptation of men who suffer much. Almost without society,

leading a dull misanthropic life, he did not remember that sobriety in all

respects was essential to his health and that over-indulgence at table was not

consistent with his forced seclusion. Constant annoyances, added to

intemperate habits, could but bring on sickness. During our first winter I

attended him, through Alaka Zenab, our friend and his, and under my care

he recovered. Unfortunately, he only listened to my advice and obeyed my

injunctions for a short time; soon missing the stimulants he had for years

been accustomed to, he gradually felt the want of their cheering influence,

and again resorted to them. During the rainy season of 1867 he had a more

serious attack. This time Samuel, being able to visit him at night, was our

medium, and being a very intelligent man could give us a correct account of

his condition. For a while his health improved; but he was even more

unreasonable than formerly: hardly was he convalescent than several times

a day he sent to inquire if he could drink some arrack, take a little opium, or

indulge in some of his more favourite dishes. It is not astonishing that

relapse quickly followed: though I showed him the danger of the course he

was pursuing, he persisted in it.

In the beginning of October the Bishop's condition became so critical that

he applied to the Ras and chiefs to allow me to visit him. They met in

consultation, and in a body repaired to Mr. Rassam, when I was called and

asked if I would attend him. I replied that as far as I was concerned I was

perfectly willing. The chiefs then retired to consider the matter; and on one

of them insinuating that Theodore would not be sorry if his enemy the

Abouna died, and that he would be angry if he knew that the Bishop had

been brought in contact with the Europeans, they decided on refusing his

request; though they consented to the attendance of the cow-doctor . With

the Abouna we lost a staunch ally, a good friend; nay, the only one we had

in the country. Had a rebel succeeded in making himself master of the

Amba his protection would have been invaluable: not that I believe his

influence would have been sufficient to ensure our release; but still, with

him, we should have met at the hands of any of the great rebel chiefs

nothing but good treatment and courteous demeanour.

The messenger sent to convey the tidings of the Abouna's death to the

Emperor, was rather puzzled how to express himself, not knowing in what

light his Majesty would receive the news. He adopted a middle course as

the safest, and tried to appear neither sorry nor rejoiced. Theodore listened

to his tale and exclaimed, "Thank God, my enemy is dead!" Then,

addressing the messenger, he added, "You fool! why did you not on

reaching me shout out 'Miserach' (good tidings)? I would have given you

my best mule."

With the death of the Bishop, our hopes, though always of the faintest kind,

when natives were expected to be the deliverers, seemed for ever crushed.

Wakshum Gobazé had, for a time at least, by his treaty with Mastiate, given

up his pretensions to the possession of Magdala; and Menilek, even if he

kept to his word and attempted the siege of our amba, would, no doubt, fall

back on Shoa as soon as he should be apprised of the death of his friend

whom he was so anxious to release. We had no precise information as to the

steps that were taken at home for our rescue; and, until certain that troops

had landed, we felt very anxious lest some contretemps should, at the last

instant, occur, and the expedition be abandoned, or some more or less

chimerical plan adopted in its stead. We had received a little money of late,

but as everything was scarce and dear, we had to be very careful, and refuse

many a "friend's" request—rather a dangerous proceeding in those days.

We believed—but events proved we were wrong—that if any great rebel,

any rising man of influence, should present himself before the Amba, the

discontented, half-starved wretches would be only too glad to open the

gates and receive him as a saviour. The garrison, we knew, would not on

any account surrender to the Gallas. For years they had been at enmity, and

the marauding expeditions which the soldiers of the mountain had lately

made into their territory, had increased that bad feeling, and quite destroyed

any hope of reconciliation. This was the more vexatious, as now that

Mastiate had, by her treaty with Gobazé, obtained possession and

garrisoned all the districts around Magdala, it was but natural to expect that

she would make some efforts at least to seize upon a fortress that lay within

her dominions. Not many days after the departure of Gobazé for Yedjow,

she issued orders to the people of the neighbourhood to cease supplying the

Amba, and forbade any of her subjects from attending the weekly market;

she even fixed a day for the troops she had detached to Dalanta and

Dahonte to rendezvous at a short distance from Magdala, as she intended to

destroy the whole of the country for miles around, and reduce the garrison

by famine.