Theodore's rage was by no means abated by this act of cruelty; he advanced

a few steps, then stopped, turned, his lance in rest, looking around, the very

image of ungovernable fury. His eyes fell upon Mr. Rosenthal. "Seize him!"

cried he; Immediately several soldiers rushed forward to obey the imperial

command. "Seize the man they call a Hakeem." Instantly a dozen ruffians

pounced upon me, and I was held fast by the arms, coat, trousers—by every

place that afforded a grip. He then addressed himself to Mr. Rosenthal.

"You donkey, why did you call me the son of a poor woman? Why did you

abase me?" Mr. Rosenthal said, "If I have offended your Majesty, I beg for

pardon." All the while the Emperor was shaking his lance in a threatening

manner, and every minute I expected that he would throw it; I feared that,

blind with rage, he would not be able to control himself; and I well knew

that if once he began to give vent to his passions, my fate was also sealed.

Fortunately for us both, Theodore turned towards his European workmen

and abused them in no measured terms. "You slaves! Have I not bought you

with money? Who are you that you dare call yourselves 'lords?' Take care!"

Then addressing the two I had met on the road, he said, "You are proud, are

you? Slaves! Women! Rotten donkeys! you cover your heads, in my

presence! Did you not see me? Did not the Hakeem keep his head

uncovered? Poor men that I have made rich!" He then turned towards me,

and seeing me held by a dozen soldiers, he cried out, "Let him go; bring

him before me." All drew back except one, who conducted me to within a

few feet from the Emperor. He then asked me, "Do you know Arabic?"

Though I understand a little of that language, I thought it more prudent,

under the circumstances, to reply in the negative. He then told Mr.

Schimper to translate what he was going to say. "You, Hakeem, are my

friend. I have nothing against you; but others have abused me, and you must

come up with me to witness their trial." Then ordering Cantiba Hailo to

give me his mule, he mounted, I and Mr. Rosenthal following; the latter on

foot, dragged the whole way by the soldiers who had first seized him.

As soon as we reached Debra Tabor, the Emperor sent word to Mr. Rassam

to come out with the other Europeans, as he had something to tell him.

Theodore sat upon a rock, about twenty yards in front of us; between him

and ourselves stood a few of his high officers, and behind us a deep line of

soldiers. He was still angry, breaking the edges of the rock with the butt-end

of his lance, and spitting constantly between his words. He at once

addressed himself to the Rev. Mr. Stern, and asked him, "Was it as a

Christian, a heathen, or a Jew, that you abused me? Tell me where you find

in the Bible that a Christian ought to abuse? When you wrote your book, by

whose authority did you do it? Those who abused me to you, were they my

enemies or yours? Who was it told you evil things against me?" &c. He

afterwards said to Mr. Rassam, "You, also, have, abused me." "I?" replied

Mr. Rassam. "Yes, you; in four instances. First, you read Mr. Stern's book,

wherein I am abused; secondly, you did not reconcile me with the prisoners,

but wanted to send them out of the country; thirdly, your Government

allows the Turks to keep Jerusalem—it is my inheritance. The fourth I have

forgotten." He then asked Mr. Rassam whether he knew or not that

Jerusalem belonged to him, and that the Abyssinian convent there had been

seized by the Turks? As the descendant of Constantine and Alexander the

Great, India and Arabia belonged to him. He put many foolish questions of

the same kind. At last he said to Samuel, who was interpreting, "What have

you to say if I chain your friends?" "Nothing," replied Samuel; "are you not

the master?" Chains had been brought, but the answer somewhat pacified

him. He then addressed one of his chiefs, saying, "Can you watch these

people in the tent?" The other, who knew his answer, replied, "Your

Majesty, the house would be better." On that he gave orders for our baggage

to be conveyed from the black tent to a house contiguous to his own, and

we were told to go.

The house assigned to us was formerly used as a godown: it was built of

stone, with a large verandah all around, and closed by a single small door,

with no window or other aperture. It was only when several lighted candles

had been brought that we could find our way into the dark central room, and

it only required numbers to react the fearful drama of the Calcutta Black

Hole. Some soldiers carried in our bedding, and a dozen guards sat near us,

holding lighted candles in their hands. The Emperor sent us several

messages. Mr. Rassam took advantage of this circumstance to complain

bitterly of the unfair treatment inflicted upon us. He said, "Tell his Majesty

that I have done my best to bring on a good understanding between my

country and him; but when to-day's work is known, whatever the

consequences may be, let him not throw the blame upon me." Theodore

sent back word, "If I treat you well or not; it is the same; my enemies will

always say that I have ill-treated you, so it does not matter."

A little later we were rather startled by a message from his Majesty,

informing us that he could not rest before comforting his friend, and that he

would come and see us. Though we did our best to dissuade him from such

a step, he soon afterwards came; accompanied by some slaves carrying

arrack and tej. He said, "Even my wife told me not to go out, but I could not

leave you in grief, so I have come to drink with you." On that he had arrack

and tej presented to all of us, himself setting the example.

He was calm, and rather serious, though he made great efforts to appear

gay. He must have remained at least an hour; conversing on different topics,

the Pope of Rome being the principal one discussed. Amongst other things:

he said, "My father was mad, and though people often say that I am mad

also; I never would believe it; but now I know it is true." Mr. Rassam

answered, "Pray do not say such a thing." His Majesty replied, "Yes, yes, I

am mad," Shortly before leaving, he said, "Do not look at my face or take

heed of my words when I speak to you before my people, but look at my

heart: I have an object." As he returned, he gave orders to the guards to

withdraw outside, and not to inconvenience us. Though we have seen him

since then once or twice, at a distance, it is the last time we conversed with

him.

The two days we spent in the black hole at Debra Tabor, all huddled up

together, obliged to have lighted candles day and night, and in anxious

uncertainty about our future fate, were really days of mental torture and

physical discomfort. We hailed with joy the announcement that we were

going to move; any alternative was preferable to our position—be it rain in

a worn-out tent, be it chains in one of the ambas—anything was better than

close confinement, deprived of all comforts, even of the cheering light of

day.

At noon on the 5th of July, we were informed that his Majesty had already

left, and that our escort was in attendance. All were delighted at the

prospect of seeing fresh air and green fields and bright sun. We did not

require a second command, and did not even give a second thought to the

journey, rain, mud, and such like inconveniences. On that day we made but

a short stage, and encamped on a large plain called Janmêda, a few miles

south of Gaffat. Early morning the following day the army moved off, but

we waited in the rear at least three hours before the order came for us to

start. Theodore, seated on a rock, had allowed the whole force, campfollowers included, to go on in advance, and like us, unprotected from the

pouring rain, and seemingly in deep thought, examined the different corps

as they passed before him. We were now strictly watched; several chiefs

with their men guarded us day and night, a detachment marched ahead of

us, another in the rear, and a strong party never lost sight of us.

We halted that afternoon on a large plain near a small eminence called

Kulgualiko, on which the Imperial tents were pitched. The following day,

the same mode of departure was adopted, and after travelling all night we

halted at a place called Aibankab, at the foot of Mount Guna, the highest

peak in Begemder, often covered during the rainy season with frozen hail.

We remained the 8th at Aibankab. In the afternoon his Majesty told us to

ascend the hill on which his tents were pitched, to see the snow-covered

summit of the Guna, as from our position below we could not obtain a good

view of it. A few polite messages passed between us, but we did not see

him.

Early on the 9th, Samuel, our balderaba, was sent for. He stayed away a

long time, and on his return informed us that we were to go on in advance,

that our heavy baggage would be sent after us, and that we must keep with

us a few light articles which the soldiers of our escort and our mules could

carry. Several of the officers of the Imperial household, to whom we had

shown some kindness, came to bid us good-by, all looking very sad—one

with tears in his eyes. Though no one informed us of our destination, we all

surmised that Magdala and chains were our lot.

Bitwaddad Tadla, with the men under his command, now took charge of us.

We soon perceived that we were more strictly guarded than ever; one or two

mounted soldiers had special charge of each separate individual of our

party, flogging the mules if they did not go fast enough, or causing those in

front to wait until the less well mounted could come up. We made a very

long march on that day, from 9 A.M. to 4 P.M., without a halt. The soldiers,

who carried a few parcels, came on shortly after us, but the baggage mules

only arrived at sunset, and dead tired. As the small rowties we had brought

with us had not arrived, the head of the guard had a house in the village of

Argabea cleared out for our reception. No food being forthcoming, we

killed a sheep and broiled it over the fire, Abyssinian fashion; hungry and

tired, we thought it the most exquisite meal we had ever made.

At sunrise, the following morning, our guards told us to get ready, and soon

after we were in the saddle. Our route lay E.S.E. Any slight doubts we

might still have had about our destination now vanished; the former

prisoners knew too well the road to Magdala to have any misgivings on the

subject. On the previous day the road was a gradual ascent over a wellcultivated and populous district; but on the 10th, the country bore a wild

aspect, few villages were to be seen, and but few dark tufts of cedars graced

the summit of the distant hills, proclaiming the presence of a church. The

scenery was grand, and for the artist no doubt full of attractions; but for

Europeans, driven like cattle by semi-barbarians, the precipitous descents

and steep acclivities had certainly no charms. After a few hours' march, we

arrived at an almost perpendicular precipice (almost 1,500 feet in height,

and not more than a quarter of a mile in breadth), that we had both to

descend and ascend in order to reach the next plateau. Another couple of

hours' march brought us to the gate's of Begemder. In front of us arose the

plateau of Dahonte, only about a couple of miles distant, but we had to

ascend a more abrupt precipice than the one we had just passed and climb

again a steeper ascent before we could reach it. The valley of the Jiddah, a

tributary of the Nile, was between us and our halting-place—a stiff march,

as the silver thread we viewed from the narrow passage between the

basaltic columns of the Eastern Begemder ridge was 3,000 feet below us.

Tired and worn out, at last; we accomplished our task.

We halted for the night at a place called Magat, on the first terrace of the

Dahonte plateau, about 500 feet from the summit. Our small tent arrived in

time, our servants had carried with them a few provisions, and we managed

to make a frugal meal; but only one or two of the best baggage mules made

their appearance, so that we had to lie on the bare ground—those best off on

leathern skins. It was five days after our arrival at Magdala before a small

portion of our luggage arrived, and until then we could not even change our

clothes, and had nothing to protect ourselves against the cold nights of the

rainy season. Early on the morning of the 11th we continued our ascent, and

soon reached the splendid plateau of Dahonte. This small province is but a

large circular plain about twelve miles in diameter, covered at the time of

our journey, with fields in all stages of cultivation, and with beautiful green

meadows, where grazed thousands of heads of cattle, and where mules,

horses, and innumerable flocks everywhere meet the eye. The whole

circumference of this plain is dotted with small rounded hillocks, and from

their base to the summit numerous well-built villages arise. Dahonte is

certainly the most fertile and picturesque district I have seen in Abyssinia.

By noon we reached the eastern extremity of the plateau, and there before

us again appeared one of those awful chasms we had encountered twice on

our road since leaving Debra Tabor. We did not at all rejoice at the idea of

having to descend, then wade through the wide and rapid Bechelo, and

again climb the opposite precipice—a perfect wall—to complete our day's

work. Fortunately, our mules were so tired that the chief of our guard

halted, for the night half way down the descent, at one of the villages that

are perched on the several terraces of this basaltic mountain. At dawn on

the 12th we continued our descent, crossed the Bechelo, and ascended to

the opposite plateau of Watat, where we arrived at eleven A.M. There we

made a slight halt and partook of a frugal breakfast, sent by the chief of

Magdala to Bitwaddad Tadla, who kindly shared it with us.

From Watat to Magdala the road is an inclined plain, constantly but

gradually shelving upwards towards the high plateau of the Wallo country

—the end of our journey, as Magdala is on its border. The amba, with a few

isolated mountains, all perpendicular and crowned with walls of basalt,

seem like miniatures of the large expanses of Dahonte and Wallo—small

particles detached from the neighbouring gigantic masses.

The road on nearing Magdala is more abrupt; one or two conical hills have

to be crossed before the amba itself is reached. Magdala is formed of two

cones, separated by a small plateau named Islamgee, a few hundred feet

lower than the two peaks it divides. The northern peak is the higher of the

two, but on account of the absence of water and the small space it affords, it

is not inhabited; and to Magdala alone belonged the privilege of being

Theodore's most famous fortress, his treasury, and his gaol.

From Islamgee the ascent is steeper, but we were able to ride on our mules

up to the second door; a feat we could not perform whilst ascending from

the Bechelo and Jiddah, as we had not only to descend almost all the way

on foot, but had frequently to dismount at the ascent, and climb on all-fours,

leaving the mules to find their way as best they could. The distance from

Watat to Magdala is generally accomplished in five hours, but we were

nearly seven, as we had to make frequent halts, and messengers came to and

fro from the Amba. Many of the chiefs of the mountain came out to meet

Bitwaddad Tadla.

At Islamgee another long halt was made, I suppose while our lettre de

cachet was examined by the chiefs in council. At last, one by one, counted

like sheep, we passed the doors, and were taken to a large open space in

front of the King's house. There we were met by the Ras (Head of the

mountain) and the six superior chiefs, who join with him in council on

every important occasion. As soon as they had greeted Bitwaddad Tadla

they retired a few yards, and consulted with him and Samuel. After a few

minutes, Samuel told us to come on; and, accompanied by the chiefs,

escorted by their followers, we were taken to a house near the Imperial

fence. A fire was lighted. To fatigued and dejected men the prospect of a

roof, after so many days passed in the rain, cheered us even in our misery,

and when the chiefs had retired, leaving a guard at the door, we soon forgot

—talking, smoking, or sleeping near the fire—that we were the innocent

victims of base treachery. Two houses had been allowed to our party. At

first we all slept in one of them, the other being made over to the servants,

and used as a kitchen.

CHAPTER XI.

Our First House at Magdala—The Chief has a "little Business" with us—

Feelings of an European when being put in Chains—The Operation

described—The Prisoner's Toilet—How we Lived—Our first Messenger a

Failure—How we obtained Money and Letters—A Magdala Diary—A

Rainy Season in a Godjo.

It was already dark when we had arrived the evening before. Our first

thought in the morning was to examine our new abode. It consisted of two

circular huts, surrounded by a strong thorny fence, adjoining the Emperor's

Enclosure. The largest hut was in a bad state of repair; and as the roof,

instead of being supported by a central pole, had about a dozen of lateral

ones forming as many separate divisions, we made it over to our servants

and to our balderaba Samuel. The one we kept for ourselves had been built

by Ras Hailo, at one time a great favourite of Theodore, but who had

unfortunately fallen under his displeasure. Ras Hailo was not chained

during the time he remained in that house: for a time he was even

"pardoned," and made chief of the mountain. But Theodore, after a while,

again deprived him of his command and confidence, and sent him to the

common gaol, chained like the other prisoners. For an Abyssinian house it

was well built; the roof was almost the best I saw in the country, being

made with small bamboos closely arranged and bound with rings of the

same material. After Ras Hailo had been sent to the gaol, his house had

been made over to the favourite of the day, Ras Engeddah; but, according to

custom, Theodore took it away from him to lodge his English guests.

For us it was small: we were eight, and the place could not contain easily

more than four. The evenings and nights were bitterly cold, and the fire

occupying the centre of the room, some of us had to lay half the body in a

recess that leaked, and half in the room. At first we felt our position bitterly.

The rainy season had set in, and hailstorms occurred almost every day.

Many of us (Prideaux and myself amongst them) had not even a change of

clothes, no bedding, nor anything to cover ourselves with during the long

cold damp nights; and I always shall remember with feelings of gratitude

the Samaritan act of Samuel, who, pitying me, kindly lent me one of his

shamas.

We had hardly any money, and we had not the remotest idea from whence

we could obtain any. Though there was some talk of rations being supplied

from the Imperial stores, the former captives only laughed at the idea; they

knew, from bitter experience, that prisoners on Amba Magdala "were

expected to give, but never to receive." The event proved that their surmises

were right: we never received anything from the man who on all occasions

loudly proclaimed himself our friend but a small jar of tej, that for some

months was daily sent to Samuel: (I believe all the time it was intended for

him; at all events, he and his friends drank it;) and on great feast days a

couple of lean, hungry-looking cows, of which, I am delighted to say, I

declined a share.