The Wallo Gallas are a fine race, far superior to the Abyssinian in elegance,

manliness, and courage. Originally from the interior of Africa, they made

their first appearance in Abyssinia towards the middle of the sixteenth

century. These hordes invaded the fairest provinces in such numbers, they

excelled so greatly the Amharas in horsemanship and in courage, that not

only did they overrun the land, but lived for years on the resources of the

country in imprudent security. After a while they settled down on the

beautiful plateau extending from the river Bechelo to the highlands of Shoa,

and from the Nile to the lowland inhabited by the Adails. Though retaining

most of the characteristics of their race, they adopted many of the customs

of the people they conquered. They lost in great measure their predatory

and pastoral habits, tilled the soil, built permanent dwellings, and to a

certain, extent adopted in their dress, food, and mode of life the usages of

the former inhabitants.

In appearance the Galla is tall, well made, rather slender, but wiry; the hair

of both men and women is long, thick, waving, rather than curly, and is

altogether more like coarse European hair than the semi-woolly texture that

covers Abyssinian skulls. Their dress is in many respects identical; both

wear trousers, only those of the Gallas are shorter and tighter, somewhat

resembling those worn by the people of Tigré. They both wear a large

cotton cloth, a robe by day and a covering by night; the only difference

being that the Galla seldom weaves in the side the broad red stripe, the

pride of the Amhara. The food of both races is nearly the same; both enjoy

the raw meat of the cow, the shiro or hot spiced dish of peas, the wât, and

the teps (toasted meat); they only differ in the grain they use for bread, the

Amhara delighting in pancakes made of the small seed of the tef, whilst the

Galla's bread is more loaf-like, and is prepared with the flour of wheat or

barley, the only grain that prospers on their elevated land. The Galla women

are generally fair; and when not exposed to the sun, their large, black,

brilliant, shining eyes, their rosy lips, their long, black, and neatly-braided

hair, their little feet and hands, their graceful and well-rounded forms, make

them comparable to the fairest daughters of Spain or Italy. The long shirt

falling from the neck to the ankle, and fastened round the waist by the

ample folds of a white cotton belt; the silver anklets, from which hang tiny

bells, the long necklace of beads and silver, the white and black rings

covering the taper fingers, are all very much the same articles as those that

are thought necessary for the toilette of the Galla amazon and the more

sedentary Amhara lady.

The most apparent difference is in their religion. At the time of their first

appearance, the Wallo Gallas, like many of the divisions of the same family

who, having settled further inland and having less intercourse with

foreigners, are still plunged in the grossest idolatry, worshipped trees and

stones; or rather under these natural objects rendered adoration to a being

called the Unknown, who was to be propitiated by human sacrifices. It is

impossible to obtain any correct information as to the exact date of their

conversion to Islamism; but it has been accepted by the Wallo tribe almost

universally. None at the present day are given to heathen practices, and only

a few families belong to the Christian faith.

If we compare the races still further, and examine the morality and social

habits of the two, at a first glance it would seem that both are licentious,

both dissolute. But, on closer inspection, the degradation of the one is seen

to be so thorough, that the other may claim, by contrast, something like

primitive simplicity. The Amhara's life is one round of sensual debauchery;

his conversation seldom deviates to pure or innocent subjects: no title is so

envied by the men as that of libertine, and the women, also, are all

ambitious of a like distinction: an "unfortunate" is not regarded as

unfortunate there. The richest, the noblest, the highest in the land are

profligates in love, or mercenary: more frequently both. Nothing is so

disagreeable to an Abyssinian lady's ear as an insinuation that she is

virtuous; for that would be taken to mean that she is either ill-looking or for

some other reason is not favoured with many lovers.

In some parts of the Galla country the family exists in the old patriarchal

form. The father is in his humble hut as absolute as the chief is over the

tribe. If a man marries and is afterwards obliged to leave his village on a

distant foray, his wife is immediately taken under the close protection of his

brother, who is her husband until the elder's return. This custom was for

many years very prevalent; now it is more limited: it is most common in the

plateau arising from the Bechelo to Dalanta or Dahonte, where Galla

families, almost isolated from the general tribe, have preserved many of the

institutions of their forefathers. The stranger invited under the roof of a

Galla chief will find in the same large smoky hut individuals of several

generations. The heavy straw roof rests on some ten or twelve wooden

pillars, having in the centre an open space, where the matrons, sitting near

the fire, prepare the evening meal, while a swarm of children play around

them. Opposite the rude door of small twigs, held together by nothing but a

few branches cut from the nearest tree, stands the simple alga of the "lord of

the manor." Near his bed neighs his favourite horse, the pet of young and

old. In other partitioned places are his stores of barley or wheat. When the

evening meal is over, and the children sleep where they last fell in their

romping games, the chief first sees that the companion of his forays is well

littered; he then conducts his guest to the spot where some sweet-smelling

straw has been spread under a dried cow-hide. Nor is that the end of his

hospitality, which at this point becomes rather embarrassing to the married

traveller. But the strange way in which the guest is honoured must not be set

down to licentiousness; it really is simplicity.

Every Galla is a horseman, every horseman a soldier; and thus is formed a

perfect militia, an always ready army, where no discipline is required, no

drill but to follow the chief. As soon as the war-cry is heard, or the signal

fire is seen on the summit of the distant peak, the ever-ready steed is

saddled, the young son jumps up behind his father to hold his second lance,

and from every hamlet, from every apparently peaceful homestead, brave

soldiers rush to the rendezvous. When Theodore himself, at the head of his

thousands, invaded their land, then farewell to their homes. His revengeful

hand burnt forms and villages far and wide wherever he was opposed, and

the defenceless peasants fled in order to save their lives, knowing well how

futile were their hopes of safety, should they fall into his power.

The Wallos are divided into seven tribes. Presenting no differences amongst

themselves, they were simply separated by civil wars. Could these brave

horsemen only understand the motto "Union is strength," they could make

as easy a conquest of the whole of Abyssinia as their fathers did of the

plains they now dwell upon. When united, they have always carried their

arms successfully into an enemy's country. Children of their race, the

Gooksas, the Mariés, the Alis, have held the Emperor in their sway, and

governed the land for years. Unfortunately during the days of our captivity,

as had been but too frequently the case before, petty jealousies, unworthy

rivalries, weakened to such an extent their power that, far from being able

to impose their laws on others, they in turn became but tools in the hands of

the Christian kings and rulers. With Abusheer died the last vestige of union.

If not at actual war, one party was always working against another; and no

distant campaign could be thought of when their enemies in their own

country dwelt.

Abusheer, the last Imam of the Wallo Gallas, left two sons by different

wives, Workite [Footnote: Fine gold.] and Mastiate. [Footnote: Lookingglass.] The son of the former, as we mentioned in a previous chapter, was

killed by Theodore on the escape of Menilek to Shoa, and Workite had no

option left but to seek the hospitality of the young king for whom she had

sacrificed so much.

Thus for more than two years Mastiate was left in undisturbed possession of

the supremacy vested in her by the unanimous consent of the chiefs, a

regent for her son until he attained his majority.

Menilek, after his escape, had no easy task before him: the chief who had

headed the rebellion in the name of his king, after the gallant repulse and

the check he inflicted upon Theodore, declared himself independent—

became the Cromwell instead of the Monk of Abyssinia. Menilek was,

however, well received by a small party of faithful adherents; Workite had

also been accompanied by a small force of trusty followers; and on a large

number of the chiefs abandoning the usurper and joining the standard of

Menilek, he marched against the powerful rebel, who still held the capital

and many strong places, utterly defeated his army and made him a prisoner.

This victory was shortly afterwards followed by the complete submission of

Shoa to his rule; chief after chief made their obedience, and all

acknowledged as their king the grandson of Sahela Selassi. Once his rights

admitted by his people, he led his army against the numerous Galla tribes

who inhabit the beautiful country extending from the south-eastern frontier

of Shoa to the picturesque lake of Guaragu. But, instead of plundering these

agricultural races, as his father had done, he promised them honourable

treatment, a kind of mild vassalage, on the payment of a small annual

tribute. The Gallas, surprised at his unexpected generosity and clemency,

willingly accepted his terms, and, from former foes, enrolled themselves as

his followers, and accompanied him on his expeditions. Theodore had left a

strong garrison on an almost impregnable amba, situated at the northern

frontier of Shoa, commanding the entrance into the pass leading from the

Galla country to the highlands of Shoa. Menilek, before his campaign in the

Galla country, had invested that last stronghold of Theodore in his own

dominions, and, after a six months' siege, the garrison, who had repeatedly

applied to their master for relief, at last gave in and opened their gates to the

young king. Menilek treated them exceedingly well, many were honoured

with appointments in his household, others received titles and commands,

or were placed in positions of trust and confidence.

Menilek owed much to Workite; without her timely protection he would

have been pursued, and as Shoa had shut its gates upon him, his position

would have become one of great difficulty and danger. He could not forget,

either, that to save his life she had sacrificed her only son and lost her

kingdom: his debt of gratitude towards her was immense, and nothing he

could do could adequately repay her for her devotion. But if he could not

give her back her murdered son, he would, at all events, march against her

rival, and restore by force of arms the disgraced queen to the throne she had

lost on his account. At the end of October, 1867, Menilek, at the head of a

considerable army, computed at 40,000 to 50,000 men, composed of 30,000

cavalry, some 2,000 or 3,000 musketeers, and the rest spearmen, entered the

Wallo Galla plain: he proclaimed that he came not as an enemy, but as a

friend; not to destroy nor to plunder, but to re-establish in her rule the

deposed and lawful queen Workite. She was accompanied by a young lad

who, she asserted, was her grandson, the child of the prince who had been

killed more than two years before at Magdala. She stated that he had been

born in the Wallo country, before her departure for Shoa, the result of one of

those frequent casual unions so common in the country, and that she had

taken him away when she sought refuge in the land of the man whom she

had saved. To avoid any attempt being made by her rival to secure the

person of her grandchild, she had until then kept the matter secret.

However, her story was but little credited: I know on the Amba the soldiers

laughed at it; still it offered an excuse to many of her former adherents for

again joining her cause, and if they did not credit her tale they pretended at

least to do go.

The Galla chiefs for some time remained undecided. Menilek kept to his

word; he neither plundered nor molested any one, and, before long, he

reaped the reward of his wise policy. Five of the tribes sent in their

adhesion, and recognized Workite as regent for her grandson. Mastiate, in

presence of such defection, adopted the most prudent course of retiring with

her reduced army before the overwhelming forces of her adversaries; they

followed her for some days, but without overtaking her. Menilek, believing

that they had nothing more to fear on that side, settled as he best could the

claims of Workite, and, accompanied by a large force of his new allies,

marched against Magdala.

Menilek had evidently placed much confidence in the well-known

disaffection of the garrison, and he expected that, through the influence of

the Bishop (of whose death he was not aware), of his uncle Aito Dargie, and

of Mr. Kassam, he would find on his arrival a party in his favour, who

would materially assist him, if not make over the Amba to him at once. No

doubt, had the Bishop been still alive he would either have succeeded by

promises, threats, or force in opening the gates to his beloved friend. Aito

Dargie, I believe, contrived to secure a promise of assistance from a few

chiefs; but they were not powerful enough, and at the last moment lacked

courage.

As for Mr. Rassam, he adopted the most prudent course of suiting his policy

to the movements of Menilek; too much caution could not be used, as there

was much reason to fear that the great deeds about to be achieved would

end in empty boasting. To Menilek he gave great encouragement, offered

him the friendship of England, and even went so far as assuring him that he

would be acknowledged by our Government as king, should we be indebted

to him for our deliverance; he requested him to encamp at Selassié, fire his

two guns against the gate, and should the garrison not give in, to encamp

between Arogié and the Bechelo, and keep Theodore from reaching the

Amba until the arrival of our troops.

We had been greatly disappointed by Wakshum Gobazé: for six weeks he

was always coming, but never came. Next we had Mastiate as our great

excitement: she, we thought, would strive to gain possession of her amba;

but she also never made her appearance; and now for nearly a month we

were in daily expectation of the arrival of Menilek. We had already given

him up when, to our great surprise, on the morning of the 30th of

November, we perceived a large camp pitched on the northern slope of

Tanta; and on the top of a small eminence commanding the plateau, and

opposite to Magdala, stood the red, white, and black tents of the King of

Shoa, the ambitious young prince who styled himself already "King of

kings." Our astonishment was complete when, towards noon, we heard the

report of a steady musketry-fire mingled with the occasional discharge of

small cannon. We at once gave credit to Menilek for greater pluck than we

ever believed him capable of; expecting that under cover of his fire the elite

of his troops would assault the place; and aware of the little resistance he

would meet with, we already rejoiced at the prospect of liberty, or at least of

an advantageous change of masters. We had not finished our mutual

congratulations when the firing ceased: as everything was calm and quiet on

the Amba, we could not make out what was going on, until some of our

guards came into our huts and asked us if we had heard Menilek's "faker."

Alas, it was indeed nothing but a mere boast: he had fired from the verge of

the Galla plateau, far out of range, to terrify into submission the wavering

garrison; then, satisfied with his day's work, he and his men had retired to

their tents, awaiting the result of their warlike demonstration.

The fact of Menilek being encamped on the Galla plain was full of peril for

ourselves without being of any avail to him. The next morning he sent a

message to us through Aito Dargie, asking what he should do. We again

strongly urged upon him the necessity of his attacking the Amba by the

Islamgee side; and in case he deemed it impossible to assault the place, to

stop all communication between the fortress and the Imperial camp. Our

great fear was that Theodore, on hearing that Menilek was besieging his

amba, would send orders for the immediate execution of all prisoners of

note, ourselves included. No doubt great disaffection existed on the Amba,

and if Menilek had gone the proper way to work, before many days the

place would have been his. But he never did anything; he remained

encamped on the spot he had first chosen, and made no other attempt to

rescue us.

Waizero Terunish, Theodore's queen, acted well on that occasion: she gave

an adderash (public breakfast), presided over by her son Alamayou, to all

the chiefs of the mountain. It being a fast-day, the feast was limited to tef

bread, and a peppery sauce; and as the supply of tej in the royal cellars was

scanty, the enthusiasm was not very considerable. Still it had the desired

effect—chiefs and soldiers had publicly to proclaim their loyalty to

Theodore; as with the party, still strong, that would give ear to no treachery,

she was prepared to seize the malcontents individually, before they had time

to declare themselves in open rebellion as the adherents of Menilek. Every

one who thought that he was in any way suspected, and many who had no

doubt made promises to Menilek and accepted his bribes, felt very nervous.

Samuel was sent for; he did not like the prospect at all, and we were very

much afraid for him ourselves, and glad when we saw him come back. On

its being perceived that some of the chiefs had not made their appearance,

inquiries were made as to the cause of their absence; they, seeing that there

was very little hope of securing a strong party in favour of Menilek, gave

explanations that were accepted, conditionally that on the following day

they would repair to the King's inclosure, and there, in presence of the

assembled garrison, proclaim their loyalty. They went as they had been

ordered, and were the loudest in their praise of Theodore, in their

expressions of devotion to his cause, and in their abuse of the "fat boy" who

had ventured near a fortress entrusted to their care.

The Queen had done her duty well and honourably. The Ras and chiefs

consulted together, and considered it advisable, in order to show their

affection and devotion for their master, to do something themselves also.

But what should be done? They had already placed extra guards at night on

the gates, and protected every weak point on the Amba; nothing remained

but to bully the prisoners. The second evening after the arrival of Menilek

before the mountain, Samuel received orders from the chiefs to make us all

sleep at night in one hut; the only exception being made in favour of the

king's friend, Mr. Rassam. But poor Samuel, though sick, went to the Ras

and insisted on having the order cancelled: I believe his influence was

backed on that occasion by a douceur he quietly slipped into the Ras's hand.

The chiefs in their wisdom had also decreed, and the next morning enforced

the order that all the servants, Mr. Rassam's excepted; should be sent down

from the mountain. The messengers and other public servants employed by

Mr. Rassam were also obliged to leave. To Prideaux and myself they

allowed, apart from our Portuguese, a water-girl and a small boy each. I had

no house down at Islamgee; Samuel could not think of allowing me to pitch

a tent, so the poor fellows would have been very badly off if Captain

Cameron had not very kindly allowed them to share his servants' quarters.

We were put to great inconvenience by this absurd and vexatious order, and

I had some trouble, when everything was again quiet, in getting the servants

up again; it required all the influence of Samuel and a douceur to the Ras,

out of my pocket, to gain my object.

As may well be expected, the Abyssinian prisoners were not spared; all

their servants were counted, and sent down the mountain, one only being

allowed to three or four during the daytime to carry wood, water, and

prepare their food. They were not suffered to leave the night-houses, but

had to remain day and night in those filthy places. Every one on the

mountain was exceedingly anxious that Menilek should decide on

something, and put an end to that painful state of anxiety.

Early on the morning of the 3rd of December we were apprised by our

servants that Menilek had struck his camp and was on the move. Where he

was going to no one knew; but, as we were to some extent in his

confidence, we flattered ourselves that he had accepted our advice, and

would before long be seen on Selassié, or on the plateau of Islamgee. We

spent a very anxious morning; the chiefs seemed perplexed, evidently

expecting an assault from that direction, and we were confidentially

informed that we should be called upon to man the guns should the Amba

be attacked. However, our suspense was shortly at an end. The smoke rising

in the distance, and in the direction of the road to Shoa, showed us but too

clearly that the would-be conqueror had, without striking a blow, returned

to his own country, and, with great gallantry, was burning a few miserable

villages, whose chiefs were adherents of Mastiate.

The excuse Menilek gave for his hasty retreat was, that his supplies had run

short, and that, having no camp-followers with him he could not have flour

prepared; that his troops being hungry and dissatisfied, he had decided on

returning at once to Shoa, collect his camp-followers, and advance again

better provisioned, and remain in the neighbourhood of Magdala until it

fell. The truth was, that to his great disappointment he had heard from his

camp the muskets fired during the "fakering;" he knew that, as far as

treachery was concerned, his chance was gone for a while, and that he must

await the effects of want and privation induced by a long siege. Supplies he

might have obtained in abundance, as he was the ally of Workite and in a

friendly country. Should he even have required more, the undefended

districts of Worahaimanoo, Dalanta, etc., would have been quite willing to

send abundant provisions into his camp on the assurance that they would

not be molested. But if this "fakering" somewhat deranged his plans,

something he saw on the evening of the second day, a mere speck of smoke,

made him fairly run away. That smoke was kindled by the terrible

Theodore. He was, it is true, still far away; but who could say? His fatherin-law, Menilek knew well, was a man of long marches and sudden attacks.

How his large army would be scattered like chaff before the wind at the cry,

"Theodore is coming," he was well aware, and he came to the conclusion

that the sooner he was off the better.

Our disappointment was something beyond description. Our rage, our

indignation and scorn for such cowardice, I cannot express. The "fat boy,"

as we also now called him, we hated and despised. Had we been imprudent

enough openly to take his part, what would have become of us? Menilek,

doubtless, meant well, and probably would have succeeded had the Bishop

lived a few weeks longer. As it is, he did us a great deal of harm. Had he

and Workite never left Shoa, Mastiate would have laid siege to the

mountain. Sooner or later it must have surrendered, and neither Theodore

nor his messengers would ever have ventured south of the Bechelo if

Mastiate had been there with her 20,000 horsemen.

With Menilek's departure, I, for one, made up my mind never again to credit

any of the promises of the native chiefs, which always ended in mere moonshine. Since then, I heard with the utmost indifference that so-and-so was

marching in such a direction, that he or she would attack Theodore, or

invest the Amba and stop all communication between the rascals on the top

and "our friend" Theodore. We had been a long time without messengers,

and the last had not brought us the intelligence so anxiously looked for. Our

impatience was greater since we knew that we could expect nothing from

the natives, and believed the expedition from England to be on its way: we

felt that something was going on and we longed for the certainty.

How well I remember the 13th of December, a glorious day for us! No lover

ever read, with more joy and happiness the long-expected note from the

beloved one, than I did that day the kind and cheering letter of our gallant

friend, General Merewether. Troops had landed! Since the 6th of October,

our countrymen were in the same land that saw us captives. Roads, piers,

were being made; regiment after regiment were leaving the shores of India,

some already marching across the Abyssinian Alps to rescue or avenge. It

seemed too delightful to be true: we could hardly credit it. Ere long all must

be over! Liberty or death! Anything was better than continued slavery.

Theodore was coming—qu'importe ? Was not Merewether there? the brave

leader of many a hard fight; the gallant officer and accomplished politician.

With such men as a Napier, a Staveley at the head of British troops, who

could feel but contempt for petty vexations? We were prepared even for a

worse fate, if it was to be our lot. At least, England's prestige would be

restored, her children's blood not left unrevenged. It was one of those

exciting moments in a man's life that few can realize who have not passed

through months of mental agony, and then been suddenly overcome with

joy. We laughed more than ever at the idea of giving even a thought to such

poltroons as Gobaz and Menilek. The hope of meeting our brave

countrymen cheered us. In the mind's eye we beheld them, and in our hearts

we thanked them for the toils and privations they would have to undergo

before they could set the captives free . For the second time, Christmas and

New Year's Day found us in fetters at Magdala; but we were happy: they

would be the last, at all events, and, full of trust in our deliverance, we now

looked forward to spending the next at home .

CHAPTER XVI.

Theodore's Proceedings during our Stay at Magdala—His Treatment of

Begemder—A Rebellion breaks out—Forced March on Gondar—The

Churches are Plundered and Burnt—Theodore's Cruelties—The Insurgents

increase in Strength—The Designs of the Emperor on Kourata Frustrated—

Mr. Bardel Betrays the New Workmen—Theodore's Ingratitude towards the

"Gaffat People"—His Raid on Foggara Unsuccessful.

Theodore remained at Aibankab for only a few days after our departure, and

returned to Debra Tabor. He had told us once, "You will see what great

things I will achieve during the rainy season," and we expected that he

would march into Lasta or Tigré before the roads were closed by the rains,

to subdue the rebellion that for years he had allowed to pass unnoticed. It is

very probable that if he had adopted that course he would have regained his

prestige, and easily reduced to obedience those provinces. No one was so

much Theodore's enemy as himself; he seems to have been possessed with

an evil spirit urging him to his own destruction. Many a time he would have

regained the ground he had lost, and put down to a certain extent rebellion;

but all his actions, from the day we left him until he arrived at Islamgee,

were only calculated to accelerate his fall.

Begemder is a large, powerful, fertile province, the "land of sheep" (as its

name indicates), a fine plateau, some 7,000 or 8,000 feet above the sea, well

watered, well cultivated, and thickly populated. The inhabitants are warlike,

brave for Abyssinians, and often have repulsed the rebels venturing to

invade their province, so firm in its allegiance to Theodore. Not many

months before Tesemma Engeddah, a young man, hereditary chief Of

Gahinte, a district of Begemder near its eastern frostier, with the aid of the

peasants, attacked a force sent into Begemder by Gobazé, utterly routed it

and put every man to death; except a few chiefs who were kept for the

Emperor to deal with as he thought fit.

Begemder paid an annual tribute of 300,000 dols., and supplied at all times

the Queen's camp with grain, cows, &c., and during the stay of the Emperor

in the province liberally provided his camp. Moreover, it furnished 10,000

men to the army, all good spearmen, but bad shots. Theodore, therefore,

preferred for his musketeers the men of Dembea, who showed more skill in

the use of fire-arms.

Begemder, the proverb says, "is the maker and destroyer of kings;" certainly

it was so in the case of Theodore. After the flight of Ras Ali, Begemder at

once acknowledged him, and caused him to be looked upon as the future

ruler of the land. Theodore was well aware of the difficult game he had to

play, but believed his precautions were such that he would inevitably

succeed. At first he was all smiles; chiefs were rewarded, peasants flattered;

his stay would be short; every day he expected he would leave. The annual

tribute was paid; Theodore gave handsome presents to the chiefs, honoured

many with silk shirts, and swore that as soon as the cannons his Europeans

were casting should be completed, he would start for Godjam, and with his

new mortars destroy the nest of the arch-rebel Tadla Gwalu. He invited, all

the chiefs to reside in his camp during his stay, to rejoice his heart. They

were his friends, when so many rose against him. Would they advance him

a year's tribute? could they not provide more liberally for the wants of his

army? He was going away for a long time, and would not for years trouble

them for tribute or supplies. The chiefs did their best; every available dollar,

all the corn and cattle the peasants could spare, found its way into

Theodore's treasury and camp. But the peasants at last got tired, and would

not listen any longer to the entreaties of their chiefs. Good words Theodore

perceived would be of no avail any more, so he adopted an imperious,

menacing tone. One after the other, on some good ground, he imprisoned

the chiefs; but it was only to test their fidelity: they would, he knew get for

him what he wanted, and then he would not only release them, but treat

them with the greatest honour. The poor men did their best, and the

peasants, in order to obtain the deliverance of their chiefs, brought all they

had as a ransom. At last, both chiefs and peasants found that all their efforts

failed to satisfy their insatiable master.

This state of things lasted for more than eight months, and during that

period, first by plausible and honeyed words, afterwards by intimidation, he

kept himself and army without difficulty and without trouble. He made no

expeditions during that time, except one against Gondar. He hated Gondar

—a city of merchants and priests, always ready to receive with open arms

any rebel: any robber chief might sit undisturbed in the halls of the old

Abyssinian kings and receive the homage and tribute of its peaceful

inhabitants. Several times before Theodore had vented his rage on the

unfortunate city; he had already more than once sent his soldiers to plunder

it, and the rich Mussulman merchants had only saved their houses from

destruction by the payment of a large sum. It was no more the famous city

of Fasiladas, nor the rich commercial town that former travellers had

described; confidence could no longer dwell under the repeated extortions

of king and rebel, nor could the metropolis of Abyssinia afford to answer

the repeated calls made upon its wealth. But still the forty-four churches

stood intact, surrounded by the noble trees that gave to the capital such a

picturesque appearance; no one had dared extend a sacrilegious hand to

those sanctuaries, and until then Theodore himself had shrunk from such a

deed. But now he had made up his mind: the gold of Kooskuam, the silver

of Bata, the treasures of Selassié should refill his empty coffers; her

churches should perish with the doomed city: nothing would he leave

standing as a record of the past, not a dwelling to shelter the people he

despised.

On the afternoon of the 1st of December, Theodore started on his merciless

errand, taking with him only the elite of his army, the best mounted and the

best walkers amongst his men. He never halted until he came, the next

morning, to the foot of the hill on which Gondar is built—a march of more

than eighty miles in less than sixteen hours. But though he suddenly

pounced upon his enemy, it was too late; the news of his approach had

spread faster. The joyous elelta resounded from house to house; the anxious

and terrified inhabitants desired to appear happy in presence of the dire

calamity such a visit presaged. The rebel's deputy had left the palace in

time, and accompanied by a few hundred horsemen, awaited, at some

distance from the town, the result of Theodore's coming. He had not long to

wait. The invaders searched every house, plundered every building, from

the churches to the poorest hut, and drove away before them like cattle the

10,000 remaining inhabitants of that large city. Then, the work of

destruction began: fire spread from house to house, the churches and palace,

the only remarkable buildings the country possessed, became a heap of

blackened ruins. But the priests looked sullen; some entreated, others

murmured, a few were bold enough to curse; at an order given by Theodore,

hundreds of aged priests were hurled into the flames. But his insatiate fury

demanded fresh victims. Where were the young girls who had welcomed

his entrance. Was it not their joyous shouts that had scared away the rebel?

"Let them be brought!" cried the fiend, and these young girls were thrown

alive into the fire!

The expedition had been successful; Gondar was utterly destroyed. Four

inferior churches only had escaped destruction. Gold, silks, dollars were

now abundant in the royal camp. Theodore was received on his return to

Debra Tabor with all the triumphal honours bestowed on a victor; the Gaffat

people went to meet him with lighted torches; and compared him to the

pious Hozekiah. If Theodore's star had been dim before this wanton

barbarity, it disappeared altogether from that day: all went against him—

success never attended him more.

The burning of Gondar increased immensely the power of the rebels. They

advanced steadily and cautiously, seizing district after district, until whole

provinces acknowledged their sway, and all joined in anathematizing the

sacrilegious monarch who had not hesitated to destroy churches that even

the Mussulman Gallas had respected. As long as the soldiers had money the

peasants willingly sold them their goods; but this could not last long: soon

scarcity prevailed in the camp. Theodore applied to the chiefs; they must

use their influence and force the "bad peasant" to bring in more supplies.

The peasants would listen no longer; they told the chiefs, "Let the king set

you free and then we will do anything you tell us, but now we know that

you are only acting under compulsion." Theodore ordered the chiefs to be

tortured: "If they cannot bring grain they must give money." Some who had

a few savings sent them—for torture was worse than poverty; but this did

not improve their condition. Theodore believed that they had more, and as

they had nothing to give, many died under the daily repetition of the

tortures Theodore now inflicted on his prisoners; amongst whom were his

bravest soldiers, his staunchest supporters, nay, his bosom friends.

Desertions were now more frequent than ever; chiefs left in the open day

with their followers; the gunman threw away his weapon, and joined his

oppressed brother the peasant; great numbers of the Begemder soldiery

daily abandoned his cause and returned to their villages. Theodore, in this

plight, resorted to a former practice of his. He must plunder, and feed his

army by plunder. But the Begemder men would not plunder their own

countrymen, and he did not place much confidence in the bravery of his

Dembea men: therefore he pitted the man of Gahinte against the peasant of

Ifag, the sons of Mahdera Mariam against those of Esté—all districts of the

same province, but far distant from one another, and with long feuds

existing between some of them. At first he succeeded, and returned from his

expeditions with ample supplies; but his fearful cruelties at last aroused the

peasants. Joined by the deserters they fought in their own way, cut off

stragglers, sent their families to distant provinces, and for miles around

Debra Tabor ceased cultivating the soil.

In March, 1867, Theodore started for Kourata, the third town in importance

in Abyssinia, and the greatest commercial centre after Gondar and Adowa.

But this time he failed completely; ever since his expedition to Gondar, the

peasants of all the surrounding districts were always on the alert: beaconfires were ready, the people telegraphed to each other in their rude way, and

the victims evaded the tyrant.

At Kourata he found no one, and hardly any plunder; the rich merchants,

priests, every one had embarked with all their goods in the small native

boats, and, out of range of Theodore's rifles, quietly awaited his departure to

return to their homes. Theodore was greatly disappointed; he expected to

reap a rich harvest and found nothing. He must revenge himself; but here,

again, he was frustrated. The soldiers deserted en masse ; few, very few

would remain with him, he was told, if he destroyed Kourata. The sacred

town, houses, streets, trees, had all been dedicated to God's service; such a

sacrilege was beyond the rascality of even the Abyssinian soldier. Theodore

had to return to Debra Tabor. Sometimes once or twice a week he would go

forth and plunder; but with little success: each time his difficulties

increased; the peasants had lost their first great dread of him; they fought

well at places, and defied the gaily-dressed chiefs: none as yet stood before

him, but the day was not far off when his prestige had fallen so low that a

man was found who challenged his anointed king.

The position of the Europeans near Theodore was, indeed, most painful.

Always to please a ferocious, mad, enraged tiger, would have been trifling

compared to what they had to undergo during the last year they served him.

Theodore was quite changed; no one who had known him in former days

would have now recognized the elegant and chivalrous young prince, or the

proud, but just Emperor, in the homicidal monomaniac of Debra Tabor.

A few days before we left for Magdala (after the political trial), Messrs.

Staiger, Brandeis, and the two hunters, foreseeing that captivity, and

probably chains, would be our lot before long, availed themselves of a

former permission they had obtained to remain near Mrs. Flad during her

husband's absence, in order to keep clear of the coming storm. McKelvie (a

former captive, and servant of Capt. Cameron,) pretended sickness, also

remained behind, and shortly afterwards took service with his Majesty.

Mackerer (also a former captive, and servant of Capt. Cameron,) had

previously been in Theodore's service, and preferred to return to him rather

than go through a second captivity at Magdala. Little were they aware at the

time how much they would have to go through themselves.

Mrs. Rosenthal, on account of her health, could not accompany us then;

afterwards she several times applied for leave to join her husband, but until

a couple of months before our release, was always refused on some

specious reason or the other. Mrs. Flad and children belonged to the same

party, having been left by her husband on his departure, under the

protection of the "Gaffat people."

Altogether the number of Europeans with his Majesty during the time of

our captivity at Magdala, including Mr. Bardel, was fifteen, exclusive of the

two ladies and several half-castes.

Theodore had no sooner returned to Debra Tabor, after sending us to

Magdala, than he set to work, with the assistance of the Europeans, casting

cannons of various shapes and sizes, and mortars of immense weight and

calibre. Gaffat, where the foundry had been erected, was only a few miles

from Debra Tabor, and every day Theodore was in the habit of riding down

with a small escort and superintending the works. On these occasions, the

four who had remained behind (Mr. Staiger and his party) usually came to

present their respects, but did not work. Mackerer and McKelvie had been

apprenticed to some of the Gaffat people, and did their utmost to please the

Emperor, and he, to encourage them, presented them with a silk shirt and

100 dollars each. One morning when the four had come as usual to look on,

Theodore, in an angry voice, asked them why they did not work with the

others. They perceived by his tone and manner that it was imprudent to

refuse; and accordingly bowed in acquiescence and set to work. Theodore,

to mark his pleasure, ordered them to be invested with robes of honour, and

sent them also 100 dollars each. For some time they worked at the foundry,

but were afterwards sent with Mr. Bardel to make roads for the artillery;

Theodore, with his usual caution, having two constructed at the same time,

one in the direction of Magdala, the other leading towards Godjam, so as to

leave every one, his people and the rebels, in doubt as to his movements.

At this time Mr. Brandeis and Mr. Bardel happened to meet at some hot

springs not far from Debra Tabor, whither they had gone with his Majesty's

permission for the benefit of their health. Though Bardel was not a

favourite; being justly distrusted by all, it seems that a kind of intimacy

sprung up between the two, and in an hour of confidence Mr. Brandeis

revealed to Bardel a plot they had made to run away, proposing to him to

join their party. Bardel accepted. A short time afterwards they returned to

Debra Tabor, or rather to a short distance from it, where they were making

the roads. They at once set to work to complete their arrangements, and at

last, everything being ready for the route, they fixed upon the night of the

25th of February for their departure. Towards ten in the evening Bardel

looked into the tent where all were assembled, and seeing at a glance that

everything was ready, pretended to have forgotten something in his tent,

and begged them to wait a few minutes for him. They agreed, and mounting

his horse, Bardel started at full gallop to fetch Theodore. That man, so

unprincipled that even Abyssinians looked upon him with contempt, had

basely betrayed, out of mere love of mischief, those poor men who had

trusted in him. Theodore was quite taken aback when Bardel told him that

the four he had taken into his service, and Mackerer, were on the point of

deserting. "But were you not also one of the party?" Theodore inquired.

Bardel said that it was true; but if he had entered into the plot, it was only to

be able to prove his attachment to his master by revealing it to him, when

he could with his own eyes assure him of the correctness of the assertion.

Theodore accompanied him to the tent where the others were anxiously

expecting their companion's return. Fancy their dismay and astonishment

when they saw the Emperor quietly walking in followed by their betrayer!

Theodore was calm, asked them why they were so ungrateful, and why they

wanted to run away? They replied that they longed to see their country.

They were given in charge to the soldiers who had accompanied Theodore,

chained hand and foot, each of them to one of their servants; all their

followers were stripped naked, tied with ropes, and several of them killed.

Their condition ever since was most dreadful: they were confined at first

with hundreds of starving and naked Abyssinians, witnessed the execution

of thousands, many of whom had been their bed companions, and expected

at any instant to be called upon to pay with their lives the penalty of their

rash attempt. However, Theodore after a while made a difference between

them and his people, he set apart a small tent for them, did not deprive them

of all their clothes, and allowed them some servants to prepare their food.

The rebellion had by this time, April, 1867, become so universal, that apart

from a few provinces in the neighbourhood of Magdala, that fortress and

another one, Zer Amba, near Tschelga, he could only call his own the few

acres on which his tents were pitched. His European workmen had cast

some guns for him, and afraid that at Gaffat these might be seized by some

rebel, he determined upon removing them to his camp. He took advantage

of the receipt of a letter from Mr. Flad, to appear displeased at the news he

had received, and thereby cover his ingratitude towards those faithful

servants by a plausible excuse.

On the 17th of April Theodore went to Gaffat, stopped at the foot of the

hillock on which it is built, sent for the Europeans, and told them that he

had received a letter from Mr. Flad, containing serious matters, and that, as

he could not trust them far from him, they must go to Debra Tabor until Mr.

Flad's return, when all would be explained; he added that he had also heard

that preparations for the reception of troops were being made at Kedaref,

and that "if he was to be killed, they would die first." One of the Europeans,

Moritz Hall, remonstrated against the unfair treatment he was subjected to,

after long and faithful services: "Kill us at once," he exclaimed, "but do not

degrade us in this way; if in the letter you have received, there is anything

you can charge against us, then have it read out before your people. Death is

better than unjust suspicion." Theodore, in angry tone, ordered him to be

silent, and sent them all under escort to Debra Tabor; their wives and

families followed; all their property was seized, but afterwards partly

returned, and on the tools and instruments being given back to them, they

were told to work. The Europeans and guns safe in his camp, Theodore left

Debra Tabor on a plundering expedition; but in Begemder he met with such

constant resistance from the peasantry, that his soldiers at last objected.

To please them, he led them towards Foggara, a fertile plain to the northwest of Begemder; but he found hardly anything there. All the grain had

been buried, and the cattle removed to distant parts of the country. One of

our messengers sent to him by Mr. Rassam found him there, and on his

return, gave us the most dreadful description of the Emperor's temper:

floggings, beatings, and executions were going on all day, and he was so

badly off for money, that he had imprisoned several of his own personal

attendants, fixing their release at 100 dollars each. During his absence, the

Gaffat people had consulted amongst themselves as to the best means of

regaining the Emperor's favour, and decided on proposing to cast an

immense mortar for him. Theodore was delighted. A foundry was erected,

and the "Great Sebastopol," which was destined to be the crushing blow for

him, and the means of our salvation, was begun.

CHAPTER XVII.

Arrival of Mr. Flad from England—Delivers a Letter and Message from the

Queen—The Episode of the Telescope—Our Property taken care of—

Theodore will not yield except to force—He Recruits his Army—Ras

Adilou and Zallallou desert him—He is repulsed at Belessa by Lij Abitou

and the Peasants—The Expedition against Metraha—His Cruelties there—

The "Great Sebastopol" is Cast—Famine and Pestilence compel the

Emperor to raise his Camp—The Difficulties of his March to Magdala—

His Arrival in Dalanta.

Soon after the Gaffat people had been sent to Debra Tabor, Mr. Flad arrived

from England, and met Theodore in Dembea on the 26th of April. Their

first meeting was not very friendly. Mr. Flad handed to his Majesty the

Queen's letter, with others from General Merewether, Dr. Beke, and from

the relations of the former captives. On presenting General Merewether's

letter to Theodore, Flad informed him that he had brought as a present to

him from that gentleman, an excellent telescope. Theodore asked to see it.

The telescope was rather difficult to arrange so as to suit Theodore's sight,

and as it took some time before Flad could put it in order, Theodore got

impatient and said, "Take it to the tent, we will try it to-morrow; but I know

it is not a good telescope: I know it is not sent to me for good."

Theodore then ordered every one to retire, and having told Flad to sit down,

asked him, "Have you seen the Queen?" Flad replied in the affirmative,

adding that he had been very graciously received, and that he had a verbal

message to deliver to him from her Majesty. "What is it?" Theodore

immediately asked. Had replied, "The Queen of England has told me to

inform your Majesty, that if you do not at once send out of your country all

those you have detained so long against their will, you have no right to

expect any further friendship from her." Theodore listened attentively, and

even had the message repeated to him several times. After a pause, he said

to Flad, "I have asked from them a sign of friendship, but it is refused to

me. If they wish to come and fight, let them come, and call me a woman if I

do not beat them."

The following day Mr. Flad presented him with the several gifts he had

brought with him from Government, Dr. Beke, and others; the supplies he

had brought for as he put aside, but everything was sent to the royal tent,

and 1,000 dollars he had also conveyed for us, Theodore took, saying the

roads were dangerous, and that he would send an order for it to Mr. Rassam

at Magdala. On the 29th Theodore sent again for the telescope: one of his

officers had examined it, and found it excellent, but Theodore pretended not

to be able to see anything with it.

"It is not sent for good," he said; "it is the same story as some years ago

when Basha Falaka (Captain Speedy) sent me a carpet by Kerans; but by

the power of God I chained the bearer of that carpet. The man who sends

me the telescope only wants to annoy me; he wishes to tell me, 'Though you

are a king and I send you an excellent telescope, you will not be able to see

through it.'" Flad did his best to disabuse his Majesty of this impression,

and convince him of the fact that the telescope was sent to him as a token of

friendship; but as Theodore only got more violent, Flad thought it prudent

to be silent.

On Monday, the 30th, Theodore sent for Flad again and told him that he

was going to send him to rejoin his family at Debra Tabor. Flad took

advantage of this occasion to give a full account of the dealings of the

rebels with France, and their desire to be acknowledged by us; he assured

Theodore that if he did not comply with our Queen's request he would

certainly involve himself in a disastrous war, etc. Theodore listened with

great coolness and indifference, and when Flad ceased talking, quietly said:

"Do not be afraid: the victory comes from God. I trust in the Lord and he

will help me; I do not trust in my power. I trust in God who says, If you

have faith like a mustard seed, you can remove mountains." He said that

even if he had not chained Mr. Rassam it would have been all the same;

they would not have sent him the workmen. He knew already, at the time of

Bell and Plowden, that the English were not his friends, and he only treated

these two well out of personal regard for them. He concluded by saying, "I

leave it to the Lord: he will decide it when we fight on the battle-field."

Theodore had vented his rage about the telescope to hide his

disappointment; he had said to one of his workmen at the time he wrote to

Flad to come up with the artisans, "You do not know me yet; but call me a

fool, if by my cunning I do not get them." Instead of artisans, white men to

be held as hostages, he received a firm message, holding out no hope of

friendship unless he set at liberty all those he had so long unlawfully

detained. His answers, so full of meekness, he knew would please his

followers; they were superstitious and ignorant, and placed a certain

credence in his hopeful words.

Desertions had considerably reduced his army. He well knew the influence

of numbers in a country like Abyssinia, and to increase his scanty host, after

plundering for the fourth or fifth time Dembea and Taccosa, he issued a

proclamation to the peasants in the following terms:—"You have no more

homes, grain, or cattle. I have not done it: God did it. Come with me, and I

will take you where you will find plenty to eat, cattle in abundance, and

punish those who are the cause of God's anger upon you." He did the name

for the districts of Begemder he had lately destroyed; and many of these

poor starving, homeless creatures, not knowing where to go or how to live,

were only too glad to accept his offer.

Theodore's position was not an enviable one. In May, Ras Adilou, together

with all the Yedjow men, the only cavalry left to him, departed from the

camp in open daylight, taking with them their wives, children, and

followers. Theodore was afraid of pursuing the deserters, lest the greater

part of his remaining force should seize the opportunity thus offered to them

and join the discontented, instead of fighting to capture them. Not long

before, a young chief of Gahinte, named Zallallou, at the head of two

hundred horse, had fled to his native province, and through his influence all

the peasants of that warlike district had aimed and prepared themselves to

defend their country against Theodore and his famished host. Zallallou, the

very day he left the Imperial camp, fell upon some of our servants en route

to Debra Tabor, where they were going to purchase supplies; all were

plundered of everything they had, stripped, and several detained as

prisoners for a few days.