distance of 12 feet by breathing upon him. The second was also new,
for he killed by a sting. We know of no such power that any of the
serpent kind have. If Dr Johnson believes this, I will not say that it
is the most improbable thing he ever gave credit to, but this I will
say, that it is altogether different from what at this day is taught
us by natural philosophy. We easily see, by the strain in which these
stories are told, that all these fables of Lobo would have passed
for miracles, had the conversion of Abyssinia followed. They were
preparatory steps for receiving him as confessor, had his merit not
been sufficient to have entitled him to a higher place in the kalendar.
Rainy, miry, and cold countries, are not the favourite habitation of
serpents. Abyssinia is deluged with six months rain every year while
the sun is passing over it. It only enjoys clear weather when the sun
is farthest distant from it in the southern hemisphere; the days and
nights are always nearly equal. Vipers are not found in a climate like
this. Accordingly, I can testify, I never saw one of the kind in the
high country of Abyssinia all the time I lived there; and Tigré, where
Jerome Lobo places the scene of his adventures, by being one of the
highest provinces in the country, is surely not one of the most proper.
It was the 20th of January, at seven o’clock in the morning, we left
Axum; our road was at first sufficiently even, thro’ small vallies and
meadows; we began to ascend gently, but through a road exceedingly
difficult in itself, by reason of large stones standing on edge,
or heaped one upon another; apparently the remains of an old large
causeway, part of the magnificent works about Axum.
The last part of the journey made ample amends for the difficulties
and fatigue we had suffered in the beginning. For our road, on every
side, was perfumed with variety of flowering shrubs, chiefly different
species of jessamin; one in particular of these called Agam (a small
four-leaved flower) impregnated the whole air with the most delicious
odour, and covered the small hills through which we passed, in such
profusion, that we were, at times, almost overcome with its fragrance.
The country all round had now the most beautiful appearance, and this
was heightened by the finest of weather, and a temperature of air
neither too hot nor too cold.
Not long after our losing sight of the ruins of this ancient capital of
Abyssinia, we overtook three travellers driving a cow before them; they
had black goat skins upon their shoulders, and lances and shields in
their hands, in other respects were but thinly cloathed; they appeared
to be soldiers. The cow did not seem to be fatted for killing, and it
occurred to us all that it had been stolen. This, however, was not our
business, nor was such an occurrence at all remarkable in a country so
long engaged in war. We saw that our attendants attached themselves in
a particular manner to the three soldiers that were driving the cow,
and held a short conversation with them. Soon after, we arrived at the
hither most bank of the river, where I thought we were to pitch our
tent. The drivers suddenly tript up the cow, and gave the poor animal
a very rude fall upon the ground, which was but the beginning of her
sufferings. One of them sat across her neck, holding down her head
by the horns, the other twisted the halter about her forefeet, while
the third, who had a knife in his hand, to my very great surprise, in
place of taking her by the throat got astride upon her belly before
her hind-legs, and gave her a very deep wound in the upper part of her
buttock.
From the time I had seen them throw the beast upon the ground, I had
rejoiced, thinking, that when three people were killing a cow, they
must have agreed to sell part of her to us; and I was much disappointed
upon hearing the Abyssinians say, that we were to pass the river to
the other side, and not encamp where I intended. Upon my proposing
they should bargain for part of the cow, my men answered what they
had already learned in conversation, that they were not then to kill
her, that she was not wholly theirs, and they could not sell her. This
awakened my curiosity; I let my people go forward, and staid myself,
till I saw, with the utmost astonishment, two pieces, thicker, and
longer than our ordinary beef steaks, cut out of the higher part of the
buttock of the beast. How it was done I cannot positively say, because
judging the cow was to be killed from the moment I saw the knife drawn,
I was not anxious to view that catastrophe, which was by no means an
object of curiosity; whatever way it was done, it surely was adroitly,
and the two pieces were spread upon the outside of one of their shields.
One of them still continued holding the head, while the other two
were busied in curing the wound. This too was done not in an ordinary
manner; the skin which had covered the flesh that was taken away was
left entire, and flapped over the wound, and was fastened to the
corresponding part by two or more small skewers, or pins. Whether they
had put any thing under the skin between that and the wounded flesh I
know not, but at the river side where they were, they had prepared a
cataplasm of clay, with which they covered the wound; they then forced
the animal to rise, and drove it on before them, to furnish them with a
fuller meal when they should meet their companions in the evening.
I could not but admire a dinner so truly soldier-like, nor did I ever
see so commodious a manner of carrying provisions along on the road as
this was. I naturally attributed this to necessity, and the love of
expedition. It was a liberty, to be sure, taken with Christianity; but
what transgression is not warranted to a soldier when distressed by
his enemy in the field? I could not as yet conceive that this was the
ordinary banquet of citizens, and even of priests, throughout all this
country. In the hospitable, humane house of Janni, these living feasts
had never appeared. It is true we had seen raw meat, but no part of an
animal torn from it with the blood. The first shocked us as uncommon,
but the other as impious.
When first I mentioned this in England, as one of the singularities
which prevailed in this barbarous country, I was told by my friends
it was not believed. I asked the reason of this disbelief, and was
answered, that people who had never been out of their own country, and
others well acquainted with the manners of the world, for they had
travelled as far as France, had agreed the thing was impossible, and
therefore it was so. My friends counselled me further, that as these
men were infallible, and had each the leading of a circle, I should by
all means obliterate this from my journal, and not attempt to inculcate
in the minds of my readers the belief of a thing that men who had
travelled pronounced to be impossible. They suggested to me, in the
most friendly manner, how rudely a very learned and worthy traveller
had been treated for daring to maintain that he had eat part of a lion,
a story I have already taken notice of in my introduction. They said,
that, being convinced by these connoisseurs his having eat any part of
a lion was _impossible_, he had abandoned this assertion altogether,
and after only mentioned it in an appendix; and this was the farthest I
could possibly venture.
Far from being a convert to such prudential reasons, I must for ever
profess openly, that I think them unworthy of me. To represent as truth
a thing I know to be a falsehood, not to avow a truth which I know I
ought to declare; the one is fraud, the other cowardice; I hope I am
equally distant from them both; and I pledge myself never to retract
the fact here advanced, that the Abyssinians do feed in common upon
live flesh, and that I myself have, for several years, been partaker of
that disagreeable and beastly diet. On the contrary, I have no doubt,
when time shall be given to read this history to an end, there will
be very few, if they have candour enough to own it, that will not be
ashamed of ever having doubted.
At 11 o’clock of the 20th, we pitched our tent in a small plain, by the
banks of a quick clear running stream; the spot is called Mai-Shum.
There are no villages, at least that we saw, here. A peasant had made a
very neat little garden on both sides of the rivulet, in which he had
sown abundance of onions and garlic, and he had a species of pumpkin,
which I thought was little inferior to a melon. This man guessed by our
arms and horses that we were hunters, and he brought us a present of
the fruits of his garden, and begged our assistance against a number
of wild boars, which carried havoc and desolation through all his
labours, marks of which were, indeed, too visible everywhere. Such
instances of industry are very rare in this country, and demanded
encouragement. I paid him, therefore, for his greens; and sent two of
my servants with him into the wood, and got on horseback myself. Mirza,
my horse, indeed, as well as his master, had recruited greatly during
our stay at Adowa, under the hospitable roof of our good friend Janni,.
Amongst us we killed five boars, all large ones, in the space of about
two hours; one of which measured six feet nine inches; and, though he
ran at an amazing speed near two miles, so as to be with difficulty
overtaken by the horse, and was struck through and through with two
heavy lances loaded at the end with iron, no person dared to come near
him on foot, and he defended himself above half an hour, till, having
no other arms left, I shot him with a horse-pistol. But the misfortune
was, that, after our hunting had been crowned with such success, we did
not dare to partake of the excellent venison we had acquired; for the
Abyssinians hold pork of all kinds in the utmost detestation; and I
was now become cautious, lest I should give offence, being at no great
distance from the capital.
On the 21st we left Mai-Shum at seven o’clock in the morning,
proceeding through an open country, part sown, with teff, but mostly
overgrown with wild oats and high grass. We afterwards travelled among
a number of low hills, ascending and descending many of them, which
occasioned more pleasure than fatigue. The jessamin continued to
increase upon us, and it was the common bush of the country. Several
new species appeared, with five, nine, eleven petals, and plenty of the
agam with four, these being all white. We found also large bushes of
yellow, and orange and yellow jessamin, besides fine trees of kummel,
and the boha, both of the largest size, beautifully covered with fruit
and flowers, which we never before had seen.
We now descended into a plain called Selech-lecha, the village of that
name being two miles east of us. The country here has an air of gaiety
and chearfulness superior to any thing we had ever yet seen. Poncet[13]
was right when he compared it to the most beauteous part of Provence.
We crossed the plain through hedge-rows of flowering shrubs, among
which the honeysuckle now made a principal figure, which is of one
species only, the same known in England; but the flower is larger and
perfectly white, not coloured on the outside as our honeysuckle is.
Fine trees of all sizes were everywhere interspersed; and the vine,
with small black grapes of very good flavour, hung in many places in
festoons, joining tree to tree, as if they had been artificially twined
and intended for arbours.
After having passed this plain, we again entered a close country
through defiles between mountains, thick covered with wood and bushes.
We pitched our tent by the water-side judiciously enough as travellers,
being quite surrounded with bushes, which prevented us from being seen
in any direction.
As the boha was the principal tree here, and in great beauty, being
then in flower, I let the caravan pass, and alighted to make a proper
choice for a drawing, when I heard a cry from my servants, “Robbers!
Robbers!” I immediately got upon my mule to learn what alarm this might
be, and saw, to my great surprise, part of my baggage strewed on the
ground, the servants running, some leading, others on foot driving
such of their mules as were unloaded before them; in a word, every
thing in the greatest confusion possible. Having got to the edge of
the wood, they faced about, and began to prepare their fire-arms; but
as I saw the king’s two servants, and the man that Janni sent with us,
endeavouring all they could to pitch the tent, and my horse standing
peaceably by them, I forbade our fugitives to fire, till they should
receive orders from me. I now rode immediately up to the tent, and in
my way was saluted from among the bushes with many stones, one of which
gave me a violent blow upon the foot. At the same instant I received
another blow with a small unripe pumpkin, just upon the belly, where I
was strongly defended by the coarse cotton cloth wrapped several times
about me by way of sash or girdle. As robbers fight with other arms
than pumpkins, when I saw this fall at my feet I was no longer under
apprehension.
Notwithstanding this disagreeable reception, I advanced towards them,
crying out, We were friends, and Ras Michael’s friends; and desired
only to speak to them, and would give them what they wanted. A few
stones were the only answer, but they did no hurt. I then gave Yasine
my gun, thinking that might have given offence. The top of the tent
being now up, two men came forward making great complaints, but of
what I did not understand, only that they seemed to accuse us of having
wronged them. In short, we found the matter was this; one of the Moors
had taken a heap of straw which he was carrying to his ass but the
proprietor, at seeing this, had alarmed the village. Every body had
taken lances and shields, but, not daring to approach for fear of
the fire-arms, they had contented themselves with showering stones
at us from their hiding-places, at a distance from among the bushes.
We immediately told them, however, that though, as the king’s guest,
I had a title to be furnished with what was necessary, yet, if they
were averse to it, I was very well content to pay for every thing they
furnished, both for my men and beasts; but that they must throw no
stones, otherwise we would defend ourselves.
Our tent being now pitched, and every thing in order, a treaty soon
followed. They consented to sell us what we wanted, but at extravagant
prices, which, however, I was content to comply with. But a man of the
village, acquainted with one of the king’s servants, had communicated
to him, that the pretence of the Moor’s taking the straw was not really
the reason of the uproar, for they made no use of it except to burn;
but that a report had been spread abroad, that an action had happened
between Fasil and Ras Michael, in which the latter had been defeated,
and the country no longer in fear of the Ras, had indulged themselves
in their usual excesses, and; taking us for a caravan of Mahometans
with merchandise, had resolved to rob us.
Welleta Michael, grandson to Ras Michael, commanded this part of the
province; and being but thirteen years of age, was not with his
grandfather in the army, nor was he then at home, but at Gondar.
However, his mother, Ozoro Welleta Michael, was at home, and her house
just on the hill above. One of the king’s servants had stolen away
privately, and told her what had happened. The same evening, a party
was sent down to the village, who took the ringleaders and carried them
away, and left us for the night. They brought us a present also of
provisions, and excuses for what had happened, warning us to be upon
our guard the rest of the way, but they gave us positive assurance,
at the same time, that no action had happened between Fasil and Ras
Michael; on the contrary, it was confidently reported, that Fasil had
left Buré, and retired to Metchakel, where, probably, he would repass
the Nile into his own country, and stay there till the rains should
oblige Michael to return to Gondar.
On the 22d, we left Selech-lecha at seven o’clock in the morning, and,
at eight, passed a village two hundred yards on our left, without
seeing any one; but, advancing half a mile further, we saw a number of
armed men from sixty to eighty, and we were told they were resolved to
oppose our passage, unless their comrades, taken the night before, were
released. The people that attended us on the part of Welleta Michael,
as our escort, considered this as an insult, and advised me by all
means to turn to the left to another village immediately under the
hill, on which the house of Welleta Michael, mother to Welleta Gabriel
their governor, was situated; as there we should find sufficient
assistance to force these opponents to reason. We accordingly turned
to the left, and marching through thick bushes, came to the top of the
hill above the village, in sight of the governor’s house, just as
about twenty men of the enemy’s party reached the bottom of it.
The governor’s servants told us, that now was the time if they advanced
to fire upon them, in which case they would instantly disperse, or
else they would cut us off from the village. But I could not enter
into the force of this reasoning, because, if this village was strong
enough to protect us, which was the cause of our turning to the left
to seek it, these twenty men, putting themselves between us and the
village, took the most dangerous step for themselves possible, as they
must unavoidably be destroyed; and, if the village was not strong
enough to protect us, to begin with bloodshed was the way to lose our
lives before a superior enemy. I therefore called to the twenty men
to stop where they were, and send only one of their company to me;
and, upon their not paying any attention, I ordered Yasine to fire a
large blunderbuss over their heads, so as not to touch them. Upon the
report, they all fled, and a number of people flocked to us from other
villages; for my part, I believe some who had appeared against us came
afterwards and joined us. We soon seemed to have a little army, and, in
about half an hour, a party came from the governor’s house with twenty
lances and shields, and six firelocks, and, presently after, the whole
multitude dispersed. It was about ten o’clock when, under their escort,
we arrived at the town of Sirè, and pitched our tent in a strong
situation, in a very deep gully on the west extremity of the town.
CHAP. VI.
_Journey from Siré to Addergey, and Transactions there._
The province of Siré, properly so called, reaches from Axum to
the Tacazzé. The town of Sirè is situated on the brink of a very
steep, narrow valley, and through this the road lies which is almost
impassable. In the midst of this valley runs a brook bordered with
palm-trees, some of which are grown to a considerable size, but bear no
fruit; they were the first we had seen in Abyssinia.
The town of Sirè is larger than that of Axum; it is in form of a
half-moon fronting the plain, but its greatest breadth is at the
west end; all the houses are of clay, and thatched; the roofs are in
form of cones, as, indeed, are all in Abyssinia. Sirè is famous for
a manufacture of coarse cotton cloths, which pass for current money
through all the province of Tigré, and are valued at a drachm, the
tenth-part of a wakea of gold, or near the value of an imperial dollar
each; their breadth is a yard and quarter. Besides these, beads,
needles, cohol, and incense at times only, are considered as money. The
articles depend greatly on chance, which or whether any are current for
the time or not; but the latter is often not demanded; and, for the
first, there are modes and fashions among these barbarians, and all,
except those of a certain colour and form, are useless. We have already
spoken of the fashions, such as we have found them, at Kella, and we
heard they were the same here at Siré. But these people were not of a
humour to buy and sell with us. They were not perfectly satisfied that
Michael was alive, and waited only a confirmation of the news of his
defeat, to make their own terms with all strangers unfortunate enough
to fall into their hands. On the other hand, we were in possession of
superior force, and, knowing their inclinations, we treated them pretty
much in the manner they would have done us.
On the 22d of January, at night, I observed the passage of many stars
over the meridian, and, after that, of the sun on the 23d at noon;
taking a medium of all observations, I determined the latitude of Siré
to be 14° 4´ 35´´ north. The same evening, I observed an immersion of
the first satellite of Jupiter, by which I concluded its longitude to
be 38° 0´ 15´´ east of the meridian of Greenwich.
Although Sirè is situated in one of the finest countries in the world,
like other places it has its inconveniencies. Putrid fevers, of the
very worst kind, are almost constant here; and there did then actually
reign a species of these that swept away a number of people daily. I
did not think the behaviour of the inhabitants of this province to me
was such as required my exposing myself to the infection for the sake
of relieving them; I, therefore, left the fever and them to settle
accounts together, without anywise interfering.
At Siré we heard the good news that Ras Michael, on the 10th of this
month, had come up with Fasil at Fagitta, and entirely dispersed his
army, after killing 10,000 men. This account, though not confirmed by
any authority, struck all the mutinous of this province with awe; and
every man returned to his duty for fear of incurring the displeasure of
this severe governor, which they well knew would instantly be followed
by more than an adequate portion of vengeance, especially against those
that had not accompanied him to the field.
On the 24th, at seven o’clock in the morning, we struck our tent at
Siré, and passed through a vast plain. All this day we could discern no
mountains, as far as eye could reach, but only some few detached hills,
standing separate on the plain, covered with high grass, which they
were then burning, to produce new with the first rains. The country to
the north is altogether flat, and perfectly open; and though we could
not discover one village this day, yet it seemed to be well-inhabited,
from the many people we saw on different parts of the plain, some at
harvest, and some herding their cattle. The villages were probably
concealed from us on the other side of the hills.
At four o’clock, we alighted at Maisbinni at the bottom of a high,
steep, bare cliff of red marble, bordering on purple, and very hard.
Behind this is the small village of Maisbinni; and, on the south,
another still higher hill, whose top runs in an even ridge like a
wall. At the bottom of this cliff, where our tent was pitched, the
small rivulet Maisbinni rises, which, gentle and quiet as it then was,
runs very violently in winter, first north from its source, and then
winding to S. W. it falls in several cataracts, near a hundred feet
high, into a narrow valley, through which it makes its way into the
Tacazzé. Maisbinni, for wild and rude beauties, may compare with any
place we had ever seen.
This day was the first cloudy one we had met with, or observed this
year. The sun was covered for several hours, which announced our being
near the large river Tacazzè.
On the 25th, at seven in the morning, leaving Maisbinni, we continued
on our road, shaded with trees of many different kinds. At half an
hour after eight we passed the river, which at this place runs west;
our road this day was thro’ the same plain as yesterday, but broken
and full of holes. At ten o’clock we rested in a large plain called
Dagashaha; a hill in form of a cone stood single about two miles north
from us; a thin straggling wood was to the S. E.; and the water, rising
in spungy, boggy, and dirty ground, was very indifferent; it lay to the
west of us.
Dagashaha is a bleak and disagreeable quarter; but the mountain
itself, being seen far off, was of great use to us in adjusting our
bearings; the rather that, taking our departure from Dagashaha, we came
immediately in sight of the high mountain of Samen, where Lamalmon, one
of that ridge, is by much the most conspicuous; and over this lies the
passage, or high road, to Gondar. We likewise see the rugged, hilly
country of Salent, adjoining to the foot of the mountains of Samen. We
observed no villages this day from Maisbinni to Dagashaha; nor did we
discern, in the face of the country, any signs of culture or marks of
great population. We were, indeed, upon the frontiers of two provinces
which had for many years been at war.
On the 26th, at six o’clock in the morning, we left Dagashaha. Our road
was through a plain and level country, but, to appearance, desolated
and uninhabited, being overgrown with high bent grass and bushes, as
also destitute of water. We passed the solitary village Adega, three
miles on our left, the only one we had seen. At eight o’clock we came
to the brink of a prodigious valley, in the bottom of which runs the
Tacazzè, next to the Nile the largest river in Upper Abyssinia. It
rises in Angot (at least its principal branch) in a plain champain
country, about 200 miles S. E. of Gondar, near a spot called Souami
Midre. It has three spring heads, or sources, like the Nile; near it is
the small village Gourri[14].
Angot is now in possession of the Galla, whose chief, Guangoul, is
the head of the western Galla, once the most formidable invader of
Abyssinia. The other branch of the Tacazzé rises in the frontiers of
Begemder, near Dabuco; whence, running between Gouliou, Lasta, and
Belessen, it joins with the Angot branch, and becomes the boundary
between Tigré and the other great division of the country called
Amhara. This division arises from language only, for the Tacazzé passes
nowhere near the province of Amhara; only all to the east of the
Tacazzè is, in this general way of dividing the country, called Tigrè,
and all to the westward, from the Tacazzé to the Nile, Gojam, and
the Agows, is called Amhara, because the language of that province is
there spoken, and not that of Tigré or Geez. But I would have my reader
on his guard against the belief that no languages but these two are
spoken in these divisions; many different dialects are spoken in little
districts in both, and, in some of them, neither the language of Tigrè
nor that of Amhara is understood.
I have already sufficiently dwelt upon the ancient history, the names,
manners, and people that inhabit the banks of this river. It was the
Siris (or river of the dog-star) whilst that negro, uncivilized people,
the Cushites of the island of Meroë, resided upon its banks. It was
then called the Tan-nush Abay, or the lesser of two rivers that swelled
with the tropical rains, which was the name the peasants, or unlearned,
gave it, from comparison with the Nile. It was the Tacazzè in Derkin
or the dwelling of the Taka, before it joined the Nile in Beja, and it
was the Astaboras of those of the ancients that took the Nile for the
Siris. It is now the Atbara, giving its name to that peninsula, which
it incloses on the east as the Nile does on the west, and which was
formerly the island of Meroë; but it never was the Tekesel, as authors
have called it, deriving the name from the Ethiopic word Taka, which
undoubtedly signifies, fear, terror, distress, or sadness; I mean, this
was never the derivation of its name. Far from this idea, our Tacazzé
is one of the pleasantest rivers in the world, shaded with fine lofty
trees, its banks covered with bushes inferior in fragrance to no garden
in the universe; its stream is the most limpid, its water excellent,
and full of good fish of great variety, as its coverts are of all sorts
of game.
It must be confessed, that, during the inundation, these things wear a
contrary face. It carries in its bed near one-third of all the water
that falls in Abyssinia; and we saw the mark the stream had reached the
preceding year, eighteen feet above the bottom of the river, which we
do not know was the highest point that it arrived at. But three fathoms
it certainly had rolled in its bed; and this prodigious body of water,
passing furiously from a high ground in a very deep descent, tearing
up rocks and large trees in its course, and forcing down their broken
fragments scattered on its stream, with a noise like thunder echoed
from a hundred hills, these very naturally suggest an idea, that, from
these circumstances, it is very rightly called the _terrible_. But then
it must be considered, that all rivers in Abyssinia at the same time
equally overflow; that every stream makes these ravages upon its banks;
and that there is nothing in this that peculiarly affects the Tacazzè,
or should give it this special name: at least, such is my opinion;
though it is with great willingness I leave every reader in possession
of his own, especially in etymology.
At half an hour past eight we began a gradual descent, at first easily
enough, till we crossed the small brook called Maitemquet, or, _the
water of baptism_. We then began to descend very rapidly in a narrow
path, winding along the side of the mountain, all shaded with lofty
timber-trees of great beauty. About three miles further we came to the
edge of the stream at the principal ford of the Tacazzé, which is very
firm and good; the bottom consists of small pebbles, without either
sand or large stones. The river here at this time was fully 200 yards
broad, the water perfectly clear, and running very swiftly; it was
about three feet deep. This was the dry season of the year, when most
rivers in Abyssinia ran now no more.
In the middle of the stream we met a deserter from Ras Michael’s army,
with his firelock upon his shoulder, driving before him two miserable
girls about ten years old, stark-naked, and almost famished to death,
the part of the booty which had fallen to his share in laying waste the
country of Maitsha, after the battle. We asked him of the truth of this
news, but he would give us no satisfaction; sometimes he said there had
been a battle, sometimes none. He apparently had some distrust, that
one or other of the facts, being allowed to be true, might determine
us as to some design we might have upon him and his booty. He had not,
in my eyes, the air of a conqueror, but rather of a coward that had
sneaked away, and stolen these two miserable wretches he had with him.
I asked where Michael was? If at Buré? where, upon defeat of Fasil,
he naturally would be. He said, No; he was at Ibaba, the capital of
Maitsha; and this gave us no light, it being the place he would go to
before, while detachments of his army might be employed in burning and
laying waste the country of the enemy he had determined to ruin, rather
than return to it some time after a battle. At last we were obliged to
leave him. I gave him some flour and tobacco, both which he took very
thankfully; but further intelligence he would not give.
The banks of the Tacazzé are all covered, at the water’s edge, with
tamarisks; behind which grow high and straight trees, that seem to have
gained additional strength from having often resisted the violence of
the river. Few of these ever lose their leaves, but are either covered
with fruit, flower, or foliage the whole year; indeed, abundantly with
all three during the six months fair weather. The Bohabab, indeed,
called, in the Amharic language, Dooma, loses its leaf; it is the
largest tree in Abyssinia; the trunk is never high; it diminishes very
regularly from the top to the bottom, but not beautifully; it has
the appearance of a large cannon, and puts out a multitude of strong
branches, which do not fall low, or nearly horizontal, but follow a
direction, making all of them smaller angles than that of 45°. The
fruit is of the shape of a melon, rather longer for its thickness;
within are black seeds in each of the cells, into which it is divided,
and round them a white substance, very like fine sugar, which is sweet,
with a small degree of very pleasant acid. I never saw it either in
leaf or flower; the fruit hang dry upon the branches when they are
deprived of both. The wood of this tree is soft and spungy, and of no
use. The wild bees perforate the trunk, and lodge their honey in the
holes made in it; and this honey is preferred to any other in Abyssinia.
Beautiful and pleasant, however, as this river is, like every thing
created, it has its disadvantages. From the falling of the first rains
in March till November it is death to sleep in the country adjoining to
it, both within and without its banks; the whole inhabitants retire and
live in villages on the top of the neighbouring mountains; and _these_
are all robbers and assassins, who descend from their habitations on
the heights to lie in wait for, and plunder the travellers that pass.
Notwithstanding great pains have been taken by Michael, his son, and
grandson, governors of Tigré and Siré, this passage had never been so
far cleared but, every month, people are cut off.
The plenty of fish in this river occasions more than an ordinary number
of crocodiles to resort hither. These are so daring and fearless, that
when the river swells, so as to be passable only by people upon rafts,
or skins blown up with wind, they are frequently carried off by these
voracious and vigilant animals. There are also many hippopotami, which,
in this country, are called Gomari. I never saw any of these in the
Tacazzè; but at night we heard them snort, or groan, in many parts of
the river near us. There are also vast multitudes of lions and hyænas
in all these thickets. We were very much disturbed by them all night.
The smell of our mules and horses had drawn them in numbers about our
tent, but they did us no further harm, except obliging us to watch. I
found the latitude of the ford, by many observations, the night of the
26th, taking a medium of them all, to be 13° 42´ 45´´ north.
The river Tacazzè is, as I have already said, the boundary of the
province of Sirè. We now entered that of Samen, which was hostile to
us, being commanded by Ayto Tesfos, who, since the murder of Joas, had
never laid down his arms, nor acknowledged his neighbour, Michael, as
Ras, nor Hannes the king, last made, as sovereign. He had remained on
the top of a high rock called _the Jews Rock_, about eight miles from
the ford. For these reasons, as well as that it was the most agreeable
spot we had ever yet seen, we left our station on the Tacazzè with
great regret.
On the 27th of January, a little past six in the morning, we continued
some short way along the river’s side, and, at forty minutes past
six o’clock, came to Ingerohha, a small rivulet rising in the plain
above, which, after a short course through a deep valley, joins the
Tacazzè. At half past seven we left the river, and began to ascend the
mountains, which forms the south side of the valley, or banks of that
river. The path is narrow, winds as much, and is as steep as the other,
but not so woody. What makes it, however, still more disagreeable is,
that every way you turn you have a perpendicular precipice into a deep
valley below you. At half past eight we arrived at the top of the
mountain; and, at half past nine, halted, at Tabulaqué, having all the
way passed among ruined villages, the monuments of Michael’s cruelty
or justice; for it is hard to say whether the cruelty, robberies,
and violence of the former inhabitants did not deserve the severest
chastisement.
We saw many people feeding cattle on the plain, and we again opened a
market for flour and other provisions, which we procured in barter for
cohol, incense, and beads. None but the young women appeared. They were
of a lighter colour, taller, and in general more beautiful than those
at Kella. Their noses seemed flatter than those of the Abyssinians we
had yet seen. Perhaps the climate here was beginning that feature so
conspicuous in the negroes in general, and particularly of those in
this country called Shangalla, from whose country these people are not
distant above two days journey. They seemed inclined to be very hard in
all bargains but those of one kind, in which they were most reasonable
and liberal. They all agreed, that these favours ought to be given and
not sold, and that all coyness and courtship was but loss of time,
which always might be employed better to the satisfaction of both.
These people are less gay than those at Kella, and their conversation
more rough and peremptory. They understood both the Tigrè language and
Amharic, although we supposed it was in compliance to us that they
conversed chiefly in the former.
Our tent was pitched at the head of Ingerohha, on the north of the
plain of Tabulaqué. This river rises among the rocks at the bottom of
a little eminence, in a small stream, which, from its source, runs
very swiftly, and the water is warm. The peasants told us, that, in
winter, in time of the rains, it became hot, and smoked. It was in
taste, however, good; nor did we perceive any kind of mineral in it.
Tabulaqué, Anderassa, and Mentesegla belong to the Shum of Addergey,
and the viceroy of Samen, Ayto Tesfos. The large town of Hauza is about
eight miles south-and-by-east of this.
On the 28th, at forty minutes past six o’clock in the morning, we
continued our journey; and, at half past seven, saw the small village
Motecha on the top of the mountain, half a mile south from us. At
eight, we crossed the river Aira; and, at half past eight, the river
Tabul, the boundary of the district of Tabulaqué thick covered with
wood, and especially a sort of cane, or bamboo, solid within, called
there Shemale, which is used in making shafts for javelins, or light
darts thrown from the hand, either on foot or on horseback, at hunting
or in war.
We alighted on the side of Anderassa, rather a small stream, and which
had now ceased running, but which gives the name to the district
through which we were passing. Its water is muddy and ill-tasted,
and falls into the Tacazzè, as do all the rivers we had yet passed.
Dagashaha bears N. N. E. from this station. A great dew fell this
night; the first we had yet observed.
The 29th, at six o’clock in the morning, we continued our journey from
Anderassa, through thick woods of small trees, quite overgrown, and
covered with wild oats, reeds, and long grass, so that it was very
difficult to find a path through them. We were not without considerable
apprehension, from our nearness to the Shangalla, who were but two
days journey distant from us to the W. N. W. and had frequently made
excursions to the wild country where we now were. Hauza was upon a
mountain south from us; after travelling along the edge of a hill, with
the river on our left hand, we crossed it: it is called the Bowiha, and
is the largest we had lately seen.
At nine o’clock we encamped upon the small river Angari, that gives its
name to a district which begins at the Bowiha where Anderassa ends. The
river Angari is much smaller than the Bowiha: it rises to the westward
in a plain near Mentesegla; after running half a mile, it falls down
a steep precipice into a valley, then turns to the N. E. and, after a
course of two miles and a half farther, joins the Bowiha a little above
the ford.
The small village Angari lies about two miles S. S. W. on the top of a
hill. Hauza (which seems a large town formed by a collection of many
villages) is six miles south, pleasantly situated among a variety
of mountains, all of different and extraordinary shapes; some are
straight like columns, and some sharp in the point, and broad in the
base, like pyramids and obelisks, and some like cones. All these, for
the most part inaccessible, unless with pain and danger to those that
know the paths, are places of refuge and safety in time of war, and are
agreeably separated from each other by small plains producing grain.
Some of these, however, have at the top water and small flats that can
be sown, sufficient to maintain a number of men, independent of what
is doing below them. Hauza signifies _delight_, or _pleasure_, and,
probably, such a situation of the country has given the name to it. It
is chiefly inhabited by Mahometan merchants, is the _entre-pot_ between
Masuah and Gondar, and there are here people of very considerable
substance.
The 30th, at seven in the morning, we left Angari, keeping along the
side of the river. We then ascended a high hill covered with grass and
trees, through a very difficult and steep road; which ending, we came
to a small and agreeable plain, with pleasant hills on each side; this
is called Mentesegla. At half past seven we were in the middle of three
villages of the same name, two to the right and one on the left, about
half a mile distance. At half past nine we passed a small river called
Daracoy, which serves as the boundary between Addergey and this small
district Mentesegla. At a quarter past ten, we incamped at Addergey,
near a small rivulet called Mai-Lumi, the river of limes, or lemons, in
a plain scarce a mile square, surrounded on each side with very thick
wood in form of an amphitheatre. Above this wood, are bare, rugged,
and barren mountains. Midway in the cliff is a miserable village, that
seems rather to hang than to stand there, scarce a yard of level
ground being before it to hinder its inhabitants from falling down the
precipice. The wood is full of lemons and wild citrons, from which it
acquires its name. Before the tent, to the westward, was a very deep
valley, which terminated this little plain in a tremendous precipice.
The river Mai-Lumi, rising above the village, falls into the wood, and
there it divides itself in two; one branch surrounds the north of the
plain, the other the south, and falls down a rock on each side of the
valley, where they unite, and, after having run about a quarter of a
mile further, are precipitated into a cataract of 150 feet high, and
run in a direction south-west into the Tacazzé. The river Mai-Lumi was,
at this time, but small, although it is violent in winter; beyond this
valley are five hills, and on the top of each is a village. The Shum
resides in the one that is in the middle. He bade us a seeming hearty
welcome, but had malice in his heart against us, and only waited to
know for certainty if it was a proper time to gratify his avarice. A
report was spread about with great confidence, that Ras Michael had
been defeated by Fasil; that Gondar had rebelled, and Woggora was all
in arms; so that it was certain loss of life to attempt the passage of
Lamalmon.
For our part, we conceived this story to be without foundation, and
that, on the contrary, the news were true which we had heard at Siré
and Adowa, _viz._ That Michael was victorious, and Fasil beaten; and we
were, therefore, resolved to abide by this, as well knowing, that, if
the contrary had happened, every place between the Tacazzè and Gondar
was as fatal to us as any thing we were to meet with on Lamalmon
could be; the change of place made no difference; the dispositions
of the people towards Michael and his friends we knew to be the same
throughout the kingdom, and that our only safety remained on certain
and good news coming from the army, or in the finishing our journey
with expedition, before any thing bad happened, or was certainly known.
The hyænas this night devoured one of the best of our mules. They are
here in great plenty, and so are lions; the roaring and grumbling
of the latter, in the part of the wood nearest our tent, greatly
disturbed our beasts, and prevented them from eating their provender. I
lengthened the strings of my tent, and placed the beasts between them.
The white ropes, and the tremulous motion made by the impression of the
wind, frightened the lions from coming near us. I had procured from
Janni two small brass bells, such as the mules carry. I had tied these
to the storm-strings of the tent, where their noise, no doubt, greatly
contributed to our beasts safety from these ravenous, yet cautious
animals, so that we never saw them; but the noise they made, and,
perhaps, their smell, so terrified the mules, that, in the morning,
they were drenched in sweat as if they had been a long journey.
The brutish hyæna was not so to be deterred. I shot one of them dead on
the night of the 31st of January, and, on the 2d of February, I fired
at another so near, that I was confident of killing him. Whether the
balls had fallen out, or that I had really missed him with the first
barrel, I know not, but he gave a snarl and a kind of bark upon the
first shot, advancing directly upon me as if unhurt. The second shot,
however, took place, and laid him without motion on the ground. Yasine
and his men killed another with a pike; and such was their determined
coolness, that they stalked round about us with the familiarity of a
dog, or any other domestic animal brought up with man.
But we were still more incommoded by a lesser animal, a large, black
ant, little less than an inch long, which, coming out from under the
ground, demolished our carpets, which they cut all into shreds, and
part of the lining of our tent likewise, and every bag or sack they
could find. We had first seen them in great numbers at Angari, but here
they were intolerable. Their bite causes a considerable inflammation,
and the pain is greater than that which arises from the bite of a
scorpion; they are called _gundan_.
On the 1st of February the Shum sent his people to value, as he said,
our merchandise, that we might pay custom. Many of the Moors, in our
caravan, had left us to go a near way to Hauza. We had at most five
or six asses, including those belonging to Yasine. I humoured them
so far as to open the cases where were the telescopes and quadrant,
or, indeed, rather shewed them open, as they were not shut from the
observation I had been making. They could only wonder at things they
had never before seen.
On the 2d of February the Shum came himself, and a violent altercation
ensued. He insisted upon Michael’s defeat: I told him the contrary news
were true, and begged him to beware lest it should be told to the Ras
upon his return that he had propagated such a falsehood. I told him
also we had advice that the Ras’s servants were now waiting for us at
Lamalmon, and insisted upon his suffering us to depart. On the other
hand, he threatened to send us to Ayto Tesfos. I answered, “Ayto Tesfos
was a friend to Ayto Aylo, under whose protection I was, and a servant
to the Iteghé, and was likelier to punish him for using me ill, than
to approve of it, but that I would not suffer him to send me either to
Ayto Tesfos, or an inch out of the road in which I was going.” He said,
“That I was mad;” and held a consultation with his people for about
half an hour, after which he came in again, seemingly quite another
man, and said, he would dispatch us on the morrow, which was the 3d,
and would send us that evening some provisions. And, indeed, we now
began to be in need, having only flour barely sufficient to make bread
for one meal next day. The miserable village on the clift had nothing
to barter with us; and none from the five villages about the Shum had
come near us, probably by his order. As he had softened his tone, so
did I mine. I gave him a small present, and he went away repeating his
promises. But all that evening passed without provision, and all next
day without his coming, so we got every thing ready for our departure.
Our supper did not prevent our sleeping, as all our provision was gone,
and we had tasted nothing all that day since our breakfast.
The country of the Shangalla lies forty miles N. N. W. of this, or
rather more westerly. All this district from the Tacazzé is called, in
the language of Tigré, Salent, and Talent in Amharic. This probably
arises from the name being originally spelled with (Tz), which has
occasioned the difference, the one language omitting the first letter,
the other the second.
At Addergey, the 31st day of January, at noon, I observed the meridian
altitude of the sun, and, at night, the passage of seven different
stars over the meridian, by a medium of all which, I found that the
latitude of Addergey is 13° 24´ 56´´ North. And on the morning of the
1st of February, at the same place, I observed an immersion of the
second satellite of Jupiter, by which I concluded the longitude of
Addergey to be 37° 57´ east of the meridian of Greenwich.
On the 4th of February, at half past nine in the morning, we left
Addergey: hunger pressing us, we were prepared to do it earlier, and
for this we had been up since five in the morning; but our loss of a
mule obliged us, when we packed up our tent, to arrange our baggage
differently. While employed at making ready for our departure, which
was just in the dawn of day, a hyæna, unseen by any of us, fastened
upon one of Yasine’s asses, and had almost pulled his tail away. I was
busied at gathering the tent-pins into a sack, and had placed my musket
and bayonet ready against a tree, as it is at that hour, and the close
of the evening, you are always to be on guard against banditti. A boy,
who was servant to Yasine, saw the hyæna first, and flew to my musket.
Yasine was disjoining the poles of the tent, and, having one half of
the largest in his hand, he ran to the assistance of his ass, and in
that moment the musket went off, luckily charged with only one ball,
which gave Yasine a flesh wound between the thumb and forefinger of his
left hand. The boy instantly threw down the musket, which had terrified
the hyæna and made him let go the ass; but he stood ready to fight
Yasine, who, not amusing himself with the choice of weapons, gave him
so rude a blow with the tent-pole upon his head, that it felled him to
the ground; others, with pikes, put an end to his life.
We were then obliged to turn our cares towards the wounded. Yasine’s
wound was soon seen to be a trifle; besides, he was a man not easily
alarmed on such occasions. But the poor ass was not so easily
comforted. The stump remained, the tail hanging by a piece of it, which
we were obliged to cut off. The next operation was actual cautery; but,
as we had made no bread for breakfast, our fire had been early out. We,
therefore, were obliged to tie the stump round with whip-cord, till we
could get fire enough to heat an iron.
What sufficiently marked the voracity of these beasts, the hyænas, was,
that the bodies of their dead companions, which we hauled a long way
from us, and left there, were almost entirely eaten by the survivors
the next morning; and I then observed, for the first time, that the
hyæna of this country was a different species from those I had seen in
Europe, which had been brought from Asia or America.
CHAP. VII.
_Journey over Lamalmon to Gondar._
It was on account of these delays that we did not leave Addergey till
near ten o’clock in the forenoon of the 4th of February. We continued
our journey along the side of a hill, through thick wood and high
grass; then descended into a deep, narrow valley, the sides of which
had been shaded with high trees, but in burning the grass the trees
were consumed likewise; and the shoots from the roots were some of
them above eight feet high since the tree had thus suffered that same
year. The river Angueah runs through the middle of this valley; after
receiving the small streams, before mentioned, it makes its way into
the Tacazzé. It is a very clear, swift-running river, something less
than the Bowiha.
When we had just reached the river-side, we saw the Shum coming from
the right hand across us. There were nine horsemen in all, and
fourteen or fifteen beggarly foot-men. He had a well-dressed young man
going before him carrying his gun, and had only a whip in his own hand;
the rest had lances in theirs; but none of the horsemen had shields.
It was universally agreed, that this seemed to be a party set for us,
and that he probably had others before appointed to join him, for we
were sure his nine horse would not venture to do any thing. Upon the
first appearance, we had stopped on this side of the river; but Welleta
Michael’s men, who were to accompany us to Lamalmon, and Janni’s
servant, told us to cross the river, and make what speed we could, as
the Shum’s government ended on this side.
Our people were now all on foot, and the Moors drove the beasts before
them. I got immediately upon horseback, when they were then about five
hundred yards below, or scarcely so much. As soon as they observed us
drive our beasts into the river, one of their horsemen came galloping
up, while the others continued at a smart walk. When the horseman
was within twenty yards distance of me, I called upon him to stop,
and, as he valued his life, not approach nearer. On this he made no
difficulty to obey, but seemed rather inclined to turn back. As I saw
the baggage all laid on the ground at the foot of a small round hill,
upon the gentle ascent of which my servants all stood armed, I turned
about my horse, and with Yasine, who was by my side, began to cross
the river. The horseman upon this again advanced; again I cried to him
to stop. He then pointed behind him, and said, “The Shum!” I desired
him peremptorily to stop, or I would fire; upon which he turned round,
and the others joining him, they held a minute’s counsel together,
and came all forward to the river, where they paused a moment as if
counting our number, and then began to enter the stream. Yasine now
cried to them in Amharic, as I had done before in Tigré, desiring them,
as they valued their lives, to come no nearer. They stopt, a sign of no
great resolution; and, after some altercation, it was agreed the Shum,
and his son with the gun, should pass the river.
The Shum complained violently that we had left Addergey without his
leave, and now were attacking him in his own government upon the
high-road. “A pretty situation,” said I, “was ours at Addergey, where
the Shum left the king’s stranger no other alternative but dying with
hunger, or being ate by the hyæna.”
“This is not your government,” says Janni’s servant; “you know my
master, Ayto Aylo, commands here.”--“And who is attacking you on
the road?” says the Sirè servant. “Is it like peaceable people, or
banditti, to come mounted on horseback and armed as you are? Would not
your mules and your foot-servants have been as proper? and would not
you have been better employed, with the king and Ras Michael, fighting
the Galla, as you gave your promise, than here molesting passengers on
the road?”--“You lie,” says the Shum, “I never promised to go with your
Ras;” and on this he lifted up his whip to strike Welleta Michael’s
servant; but that fellow, though quiet enough, was not of the kind to
be beaten. “By G--d! Shum,” says he, “offer to strike me again, and I
will lay you dead among your horse’s feet, and my master will say I did
well. Never call for your men; you should have taken the red slip off
your gun before you came from home to-day to follow us. Why, if you
was to shoot, you would be left alone in our hands, as all your fellows
on the other side would run at the noise even of your own gun.
“Friends, said I, you understand one another’s grievances better than
I do. My only business here is to get to Lamalmon as soon as possible.
Now, pray, Shum, tell me what is your business with me? and why have
you followed me beyond your government, which is bounded by that
river?”--He said, “That I had stolen away privately, without paying
custom.”--“I am no merchant, replied I; I am the king’s guest, and pay
no custom; but as far as a piece of red Surat cotton cloth will content
you, I will give it you, and we shall part friends.”--He then answered,
“That two ounces of gold were what my dues had been rated at, and would
either have that, or he would follow me to Debra Toon.”--“Bind him and
carry him to Debra Toon, says the Siré servant, or I shall go and bring
the Shum of Debra Toon to do it. By the head of Michael, Shum, it shall
not be long before I take you out of your bed for this.”
I now gave orders to my people to load the mules. At hearing this,
the Shum made a signal for his company to cross; but Yasine, who was
opposite to them, again ordered them to stop. “Shum, said I, you intend
to follow us, apparently with a design to do us some harm. Now we are
going to Debra Toon, and you are going thither. If you chuse to go
with us, you may in all honour and safety; but your servants shall not
be allowed to join you, nor you join them; and if they but attempt to
do us harm, we will for certain revenge ourselves on you. There is a
piece of ordnance,” continued I, shewing him a large blunderbuss, “a
cannon, that will sweep fifty such fellows as you to eternity in a
moment. This shall take the care of them, and we shall take the care of
you; but join you shall not till we are at Debra Toon.”
The young man that carried the gun, the case of which had never been
off, desired leave to speak with his father, as they now began to
look upon themselves as prisoners. The conversation lasted about five
minutes; and our baggage was now on the way, when the Shum said, he
would make a proposal:--“Since I had no merchandise, and was going to
Ras Michael, he would accept of the red cloth, its value being about
a crown, provided we swore to make no complaint of him at Gondar, nor
speak of what had happened at Debra Toon; while he likewise would
swear, after having joined his servants, that he would not again pass
that river.” Peace was concluded upon these terms. I gave him a piece
of red Surat cotton cloth, and added some cohol, incense, and beads for
his wives. I gave to the young man that carried the gun two strings
of bugles to adorn his legs, for which he seemed most wonderfully
grateful. The Shum returned, not with a very placid countenance; his
horsemen joined him in the middle of the stream, and away they went
soberly together, and in silence.
Hauza was from this S. E. eight miles distant. Its mountains, of so
many uncommon forms, had a very romantic appearance. At one o’clock we
alighted at the foot of one of the highest, called Debra Toon, about
half way between the mountain and village of that name, which was on
the side of the hill about a mile N. W. Still further to the N. W. is
a desert, hilly district, called Adebarea, the country of the slaves,
as being the neighbourhood of the Shangalla, the whole country between
being waste and uninhabited.
The mountains of Waldubba, resembling those of Adebarea, lay north of
us about four or five miles. Waldubba, which signifies _the Valley
of the Hyæna_, is a territory entirely inhabited by the monks, who,
for mortification’s sake, have retired to this unwholesome, hot, and
dangerous country, voluntarily to spend their lives in penitence,
meditation, and prayer. This, too, is the only retreat of great men
in disgrace or in disgust. These first shave their hair, and put on a
cowl like the monks, renouncing the world for solitude, and taking vows
which they resolve to keep no longer than exigencies require; after
which they return to the world again, leaving their cowl and sanctity
in Waldubba.
These monks are held in great veneration; are believed by many to have
the gift of prophecy, and some of them to work miracles, and are very
active instruments to stir up the people in time of trouble. Those that
I have seen out of Waldubba in Gondar, and about Koscam, never shewed
any great marks of abstinence; they ate and drank every thing without
scruple, and in large quantities too. They say they live otherwise in
Waldubba, and perhaps it may be so. There are women, also, whom we
should call Nuns, who, though not residing in Waldubba, go at times
thither, and live in a familiarity with these saints, that has very
little favour of spirituality; and many of these, who think the living
in community with this holy fraternity has not in it perfection enough
to satisfy their devotion, retire, one of each sex, a hermit and a nun,
sequestering themselves for months, to eat herbs together in private
upon the top of the mountains. These, on their return, are shewn as
miracles of holiness,--lean, enervated, and exhausted. Whether this is
wholly to be laid to the charge of the herbs, is more than I will take
upon me to decide, never having been at these retirements of Waldubba.
Violent fevers perpetually reign there. The inhabitants are all of the
colour of a corpse; and their neighbours, the Shangalla, by constant
inroads, destroy many of them, though lately they have been stopped, as
they say, by the prayers of the monks. I suppose their partners, the
nuns, had their share in it, as both of them are said to be equally
superior in holiness and purity of living to what their predecessors
formerly were. But, not to derogate from the efficaciousness of their
prayers, the _natural cause_ why the Shangalla molest them no more, is
the small-pox, which has greatly reduced their strength and number, and
extinguished, to a man, whole tribes of them.
The water is both scarce and bad at Debra Toon, there being but one
spring, or fountain, and it was exceedingly ill-tasted. We did not
intend to make this a station; but, having sent a servant to Hauza to
buy a mule in room of that which the hyæna had eaten, we were afraid
to leave our man, who was not yet come forward, lest he should fall in
with the Shum of Addergey, who might stop the mule for our arrears of
customs.
The pointed mountain of Dagashaha continued still visible; I set it
this day by the compass, and it bore due N. E. We had not seen any
cultivated ground since we passed the Tacazzè.
The 5th, at seven o’clock in the morning, we left Debra Toon, and came
to the edge of a deep valley bordered with wood, the descent of which
is very steep. The Anzo, larger and more rapid than the Angueah, runs
through the middle of this valley; its bed is full of large, smooth
stones, and the sides composed of hard rock, and difficult to descend;
the stream is equally clear and rapid with the other. We ascended
the valley on the other side, through the most difficult road we had
met with since that of the valley of Sirè. At ten o’clock we found
ourselves in the middle of three villages, two to the right, and one on
the left; they are called Adamara, from Adama a mountain, on the east
side of which is Tchober. At eleven o’clock we encamped at the foot of
the mountain Adama, in a small piece of level ground, after passing a
pleasant wood of no considerable extent. Adama, in Amharic, signifies
_pleasant_; and nothing can be more wildly so than the view from this
station.
Tchober is close at the foot of the mountain, surrounded on every side,
except the north, by a deep valley covered with wood. On the other side
of this valley are the broken hills which constitute the rugged banks
of the Anzo. On the point of one of these, most extravagantly shaped,
is the village Shahagaanah, projecting as it were over the river; and,
behind these, the irregular and broken mountains of Salent appear,
especially those around Hauza, in forms which European mountains never
wear; and still higher, above these, is the long ridge of Samen, which
run along in an even stretch till they are interrupted by the high
conical top of Lamalmon, reaching above the clouds, and reckoned to be
the highest hill in Abyssinia, over the steepest part of which, by
some fatality, the reason I do not know, the road of all caravans to
Gondar must lie.
As soon as we passed the Anzo, immediately on our right is that part of
Waldubba, full of deep valleys and woods, in which the monks used to
hide themselves from the incursions of the Shangalla, before they found
out the more convenient defence by the prayers and superior sanctity
of the present saints. Above this is Adamara, where the Mahometans
have considerable villages, and, by their populousness and strength,
have greatly added to the safety of the monks, perhaps not altogether
completed yet by the purity of their lives. Still higher than these
villages is Tchober, where we now encamped.
On the left hand, after passing the Anzo, all is Shahagaanah, till you
come to the river Zarima. It extends in an east and west direction,
almost parallel to the mountains of Samen, and in this territory are
several considerable villages; the people are much addicted to robbery,
and rebellion, in which they were engaged at this time. Above Salent
is Abbergalè, and above that Tamben, which is one of the principal
provinces in Tigrè, commanded at present by Kefla Yasous, an officer of
the greatest merit and reputation in the Abyssinian army.
On the 6th, at six o’clock in the morning, we left Tchober, and passed
a wood on the side of the mountain. At a quarter past eight we crossed
the river Zarima, a clear stream running over a bottom of stones. It
is about as large as the Anzo. On the banks of this river, and all
this day, we passed under trees larger and more beautiful than any we
had seen since leaving the Tacazzé. After having crossed the Zarima,
we entered a narrow defile between two mountains, where ran another
rivulet: we continued advancing along the side of it, till the valley
became so narrow as to leave no room but in the bed of the rivulet
itself. It is called Mai-Agam, or the water or brook of jessamin and
falls into the Zarima, at a small distance from the place wherein we
passed it. It was dry at the mouth, (the water being there absorbed
and hid under the sand) but above, where the ground was firmer, there
ran a brisk stream of excellent water, and it has the appearance of
being both broad, deep, and rapid in winter. At ten o’clock we encamped
upon its banks, which are here bordered with high trees of cummel, at
this time both loaded with fruit and flowers. There are also here a
variety of other curious trees and plants; in no place, indeed, had we
seen more, except on the banks of the Tacazzé. Mai-Agam consists of
three villages; one, two miles distant, east-and-by-north, one at same
distance, N. N. W.; the third at one mile distance, S. E. by south.
On the 7th, at six o’clock in the morning, we began to ascend the
mountain; at a quarter past seven the village Lik lay east of us.
Murass, a country full of low but broken mountains, and deep narrow
valleys, bears N. W. and Walkayt in the same direction, but farther
off. At a quarter past eight, Gingerohha, distant from us about a mile
S. W. it is a village situated upon a mountain that joins Lamalmon. Two
miles to the N. E. is the village Taguzait on the mountain which we
were ascending. It is called Guza by the Jesuits, who strangely say,
that the Alps and Pyreneans are inconsiderable eminences to it. Yet,
with all deference to this observation, Taguzait, or Guza, though
really the base of Lamalmon, is not a quarter of a mile high.
Ten minutes before nine o’clock we pitched our tent on a small plain
called Dippebaha, on the top of the mountain, above a hundred yards
from a spring, which scarcely was abundant enough to supply us with
water, in quality as indifferent as it was scanty. The plain bore
strong marks of the excessive heat of the sun, being full of cracks and
chasms, and the grass burnt to powder. There are three small villages
so near each other that they may be said to compose one. Near them is
the church of St George, on the top of a small hill to the eastward,
surrounded with large trees.
Since passing the Tacazzé we had been in a very wild country, left so,
for what I know, by nature, at least now lately rendered more so by
being the theatre of civil war. The whole was one wilderness without
inhabitants, unless at Addergey. The plain of Dippebaha had nothing of
this appearance; it was full of grass, and interspersed with flowering
shrubs, jessamin, and roses, several kinds of which were beautiful, but
only one fragrant. The air was very fresh and pleasant; and a great
number of people, passing to and fro, animated the scene.
We met this day several monks and nuns of Waldubba, I should say
_pairs_, for they were two and two together. They said they had been at
the market of Dobarké on the side of Lamalmon, just above Dippebaha.
Both men and women, but especially the latter, had large burdens of
provisions on their shoulders, bought that day, as they said, at
Dobarkè, which shewed me they did not wholly depend upon the herbs of
Waldubba for their support. The women were stout and young, and did
not seem, by their complexion, to have been long in the mortifications
of Waldubba. I rather thought that they had the appearance of healthy
mountaineers, and were, in all probability, part of the provisions
bought for the convent; and, by the sample, one would think the monks
had the first choice of the market, which was but fit, and is a custom
observed likewise in Catholic countries. The men seemed very miserable,
and ill-clothed, but had a great air of ferocity and pride in their
faces. They are distinguished only from the laity by a yellow cowl, or
cap, on their head. The cloth they wear round them is likewise yellow,
but in winter they wear skins dyed of the same colour.
On the 8th, at three quarters past six o’clock in the morning, we left
Dippebaha, and, at seven, had two small villages on our left; one on
the S. E. distant two miles, the other on the south, one mile off.
They are called Wora, and so is the territory for some space on each
side of them; but, beyond the valley, all is Shahagaanah to the root
of Lamalmon. At a quarter past seven, the village of Gingerohha was
three miles on our right; and we were now ascending Lamalmon, through
a very narrow road, or rather path, for it scarcely was two feet wide
any where. It was a spiral winding up the side of the mountain, always
on the very brink of a precipice. Torrents of water, which in winter
carry prodigious stones down the side of this mountain, had divided
this path into several places, and opened to us a view of that dreadful
abyss below, which few heads can (mine at least could not) bear to
look down upon. We were here obliged to unload our baggage, and, by
slow degrees, crawl up the hill, carrying them little by little upon
our shoulders round these chasms where the road was intersected. The
mountains grow steeper, the paths narrower, and the breaches more
frequent as we ascend. Scarce were our mules, though unloaded, able
to scramble up, but were perpetually falling; and, to increase our
difficulties, which, in such cases, seldom come single, a large number
of cattle was descending, and seemed to threaten to push us all into
the gulf below. After two hours of constant toil, at nine o’clock we
alighted in a small plain called Kedus, or St Michael, from a church
and village of that name, neither beast nor man being able to go a step
further.
The plain of St Michael, where we now were, is at the foot of a
steep cliff which terminates the west side of Lamalmon. It is here
perpendicular like a wall, and a few trees only upon the top of the
cliff. Over this precipice flow two streams of water, which never are
dry, but run in all seasons. They fall into a wood at the bottom of
this cliff, and preserve it in continual verdure all the year, tho’
the plain itself below, as I have said, is all rent into chasms, and
cracked by the heat of the sun. These two streams form a considerable
rivulet in the plain of St Michael, and are a great relief both to men
and cattle in this tedious and difficult passage over the mountain.
The air on Lamalmon is pleasant and temperate. We found here our
appetite return, with a chearfulness, lightness of spirits, and agility
of body, which indicated that our nerves had again resumed their wonted
tone, which they had lost in the low, poisonous, and sultry air on the
coast of the Red Sea. The sun here is indeed hot, but in the morning a
cool breeze never fails, which increases as the sun rises high. In the
shade it is always cool. The thermometer, in the shade, in the plain of
St Michael, this day, was 76°, wind N. W.
Lamalmon, as I have said, is the pass through which the road of all
caravans to Gondar lies. It is here they take an account of all baggage
and merchandise, which they transmit to the Negadé Ras, or chief
officer of the customs at Gondar, by a man whom they send to accompany
the caravan. There is also a present, or awide, due to the private
proprietor of the ground; and this is levied with great rigour and
violence, and, for the most part, with injustice; so that this station,
which, by the establishment of the customhouse, and nearness to the
capital, should be in a particular manner attended to by government, is
always the place where the first robberies and murders are committed
in unsettled times. Though we had nothing with us which could be
considered as subject to duty, we submitted every thing to the will
of the robber of the place, and gave him his present. If he was not
satisfied, he seemed to be so, which was all we wanted.
We had obtained leave to depart early in the morning of the 9th, but it
was with great regret we were obliged to abandon our Mahometan friends
into hands that seemed disposed to shew them no favour. The king was in
Maitsha, or Damot, that is to say, far from Gondar, and various reports
were spread abroad about the success of the campaign; and these people
only waited for an unfavourable event to make a pretence for robbing
our fellow-travellers of every thing they had.
The persons whose right it was to levy these contributions were two, a
father and son; the old man was dressed very decently, spoke little,
but smoothly, and had a very good carriage. He professed a violent
hatred to all Mahometans, on account of their religion, a sentiment
which seemed to promise nothing favourable to our friend Yasine and
his companions: but, in the evening, the son, who seemed to be the
active man, came to our tent, and brought us a quantity of bread and
bouza, which his father had ordered before. He seemed to be much taken
with our fire-arms, and was very inquisitive about them. I gave him
every sort of satisfaction, and, little by little, saw I might win his
heart entirely; which I very much wished to do, that I might free our
companions from bondage.
The young man it seems was a good soldier; and, having been in several
actions under Ras Michael, as a fusileer, he brought his gun, and
insisted on shooting at marks. I humoured him in this; but as I used
a rifle, which he did not understand, he found himself overmatched,
especially by the greatness of the range, for he shot straight enough.
I then shewed him the manner we shot flying, there being quails in
abundance, and wild pigeons, of which I killed several, on wing,
which left him in the utmost astonishment. Having got on horseback,
I next went through the exercise of the Arabs, with a long spear and
a short javelin. This was more within his comprehension, as he had
seen something like it; but he was wonderfully taken with the fierce
and fiery appearance of my horse, and, at the same time, with his
docility, the form of his saddle, bridle, and accoutrements. He threw
at last the sandals off his feet, twisted his upper garment into
his girdle, and set off at so furious a rate, that I could not help
doubting whether he was in his sober understanding.
It was not long till he came back, and with him a man-servant carrying
a sheep and a goat, and a woman carrying a jar of honey-wine. I had
not yet quitted the horse; and when I saw what his intention was, I
put Mirza to a gallop, and, with one of the barrels of the gun, shot
a pigeon, and immediately fired the other into the ground. There was
nothing after this that could have surprized him, and it was repeated
several times at his desire; after which he went into the tent, where
he invited himself to my house at Gondar. There I was to teach him
every thing he had seen. We now swore perpetual friendship; and a
horn or two of hydromel being emptied, I introduced the case of our
fellow-travellers, and obtained a promise that we should have leave to
set out together. He would, moreover, take no awide, and said he would
be favourable in his report to Gondar.
Matters were so far advanced, when a servant of Michael’s arrived, sent
by Petros, (Janni’s brother) who had obtained him from Ozoro Esther.
This put an end to all our difficulties. Our young soldier also kept
his word, and a mere trifle of awide was given, rather by the Moor’s
own desire than from demand, and the report of our baggage, and dues
thereon, were as low as could be wished. Our friend likewise sent his
own servant to Gondar with the billet to accompany the caravan. But
the news brought by his servant were still better than all this. Ras
Michael had actually beaten Fasil, and forced him to retire to the
other side of the Nile, and was then in Maitsha, where it was thought
he would remain with the army all the rainy season. This was just what
I could have wished, as it brought me at once to the neighbourhood of
the sources of the Nile, without the smallest shadow of fear or danger.
On the 9th of February, at seven o’clock, we took leave of the friends
whom we had so newly acquired at Lamalmon, all of us equally joyful
and happy at the news. We began to ascend what still remained of
the mountain, which, though steep and full of bushes, was much less
difficult than that which we had passed. At a quarter past seven we
arrived at the top of Lamalmon, which has, from below, the appearance
of being sharp-pointed. On the contrary, we were much surprised to find
there a large plain, part in pasture, but more bearing grain. It is
full of springs, and seems to be the great reservoir from whence arise
most of the rivers that water this part of Abyssinia. A multitude of
streams issue from the very summit in all directions; the springs boil
out from the earth in large quantities, capable of turning a mill. They
plow, sow, and reap here at all seasons; and the husbandman must blame
his own indolence, and not the soil, if he has not three harvests. We
saw, in one place, people busy cutting down wheat; immediately next to
it, others at the plough; and the adjoining field had green corn in the
ear; a little further, it was not an inch above the ground.
Lamalmon is on the N. W. part of the mountains of Samen. That of
Gingerohha, with two pointed tops, joins it on the north, and ends
these mountains here, and is separated from the plain of St Michael by
a very deep gully. Neither Lamalmon nor Gingerohha, though higher than
the mountains of Tigré, are equal in height to some of those of Samen.
I take those to the S. E. to be much higher, and, above all, that
sharp-pointed hill Amba Gideon, the present residence of the governor
of Samen, Ayto Tesfos. This is otherwise called the _Jews-Rock_, famous
in the history of this country for the many revolts of the Jews against
the Abyssinian kings.
The mountain is everywhere so steep and high, that it is not enough
to say against the will, but without the assistance of those above,
no one from below can venture to ascend. On the top is a large plain,
affording plenty of pasture, as well as room for plowing and sowing
for the maintenance of the army; and there is water, at all seasons,
in great plenty, and even fish in the streams upon it; so that,
although the inhabitants of the mountain had been often besieged for
a considerable time together, they suffered little inconvenience from
it, nor ever were taken unless by treason; except by Christopher de
Gama and his Portuguese, who are said, by their own historians, to have
stormed this rock, and put the Mahometan garrison to the sword. No
mention of this honourable conquest is made in the annals of Abyssinia,
though they give the history of this campaign of Don Christopher in the
life of Claudius, or Atzenaf Segued.
On the top of the cliff where we now were, on the left hand of the road
to Gondar, we filled a tube with quick-silver, and purged it perfectly
of outward air; it stood this day at 20⅞ English inches. Dagashaha
bears N. E. by E. from our present station upon Lamalmon. The language
of Lamalmon is Amharic; but there are many villages where the language
of the Falasha is spoken. These are the ancient inhabitants of the
mountains, who still preserve the religion, language, and manners of
their ancestors, and live in villages by themselves. Their number
is now considerably diminished, and this has proportionally lowered
their power and spirit. They are now wholly addicted to agriculture,
hewers of wood and carriers of water, and the only potters and masons
in Abyssinia. In the former profession they excel greatly, and, in
general, live better than the other Abyssinians; which these, in
revenge, attribute to a skill in magic, not to superior industry. Their
villages are generally strongly situated out of the reach of marching
armies, otherwise they would be constantly rifled, partly from hatred,
and partly from hopes of finding money.
On the 10th, at half past seven in the morning, we continued along
the plain on the top of Lamalmon; it is called Lama; and a village of
the same name bore about two miles east from us. At eight o’clock we
passed two villages called Mocken, one W. by N. at one mile and a half,
the other S. E. two miles distant. At half past eight we crossed the
river Macara, a considerable stream running with a very great current,
which is the boundary between Woggora and Lamalmon. At nine o’clock we
encamped at some small villages called Macara, under a church named
Yasous. On the 11th of February, by the meridian altitude of the sun at
noon, and that of several fixed stars proper for observation, I found
the latitude of Macara to be 13° 6´ 8´´. The ground was everywhere
burnt up; and, though the nights were very cold, we had not observed
the smallest dew since our first ascending the mountain. The province
of Woggora begins at Macara; it is all plain, and reckoned the granary
of Gondar on this side, although the name would denote no such thing,
for Woggora signifies the _stony_, or _rocky province_.
The mountains of Lasta and Belessen bound our view to the south; the
hills of Gondar on the S. W.; and all Woggora lies open before us to
the south, covered, as I have said before, with grain. But the wheat
of Woggora is not good, owing probably to the height of that province.
It makes an indifferent bread, and is much less esteemed than that of
Foggora and Dembea, low, flat provinces, sheltered with hills, that lie
upon the side of the lake Tzana.
On the 12th we left Macara at seven in the morning, still travelling
through the plain of Woggora. At half past seven saw two villages
called Erba Tensa, one of them a mile distant, the other half a mile
on the N. W. At eight o’clock we came to Woken, five villages not two
hundred yards distant from one another. At a quarter past eight we saw
five other villages to the S. W. called Warrar, from one to four miles
distant, all between the points of east and south. The country now
grows inconceivably populous; vast flocks of cattle of all kinds feed
on every side, having large and beautiful horns, exceedingly wide, and
bosses upon their backs like camels; their colour is mostly black.
At a quarter past eight we passed Arena, a village on our left. At
nine we passed the river Girama, which runs N. N. W. and terminates
the district of Lamalmon, beginning that of Giram. At ten the church
of St George remained on our right, one mile from us; we crossed a
river called Shimbra Zuggan, and encamped about two hundred yards from
it. The valley of that name is more broken and uneven than any part
we had met with since we ascended Lamalmon. The valley called also
Shimbra Zuggan, is two miles and a half N. by E. on the top of a hill
surrounded with trees. Two small brooks, the one from S. S. E. the
other from S. E. join here, then fall into the rivulet.
The 13th, at seven in the morning, we proceeded still along the plain;
at half past seven came to Arradara; and afterwards saw above twenty
other villages on our right and left, ruined and destroyed from the
lowest foundation by Ras Michael in his late march to Gondar. At half
past eight the church of Mariam was about a hundred yards on our left.
At ten we encamped under Tamamo. The country here is full of people;
the villages are mostly ruined, which, in some places, they are
rebuilding. It is wholly sown with grain of different kinds, but more
especially with wheat. For the production of this, they have everywhere
extirpated the wood, and now labour under a great scarcity of fuel.
Since we passed Lamalmon, the only substitute for this was cows and
mules dung, which they gather, make into cakes, and dry in the sun.
From Addergey hither, salt is the current money, in large purchases,
such as sheep or other cattle; cohol, and pepper, for smaller articles,
such as flour, butter, fowls, &c. At Shimbra Zuggan they first began to
inquire after red Surat cotton cloth for which they offered us thirteen
bricks of salt; four peeks of this red cloth are esteemed the price of
a goat. We began to find the price of provisions augment in a great
proportion as we approached the capital.
This day we met several caravans going to Tigré, a certain sign
of Michael’s victory; also vast flocks of cattle driven from the
rebellious provinces, which were to pasture on Lamalmon, and had been
purchased from the army. Not only the country was now more cultivated,
but the people were cleanlier, better dressed, and apparently better
fed, than those in the other parts we had left behind us. Indeed, from
Shimbra Zuggan hither, there was not a foot, excepting the path on
which we trode, that was not sown with some grain or other.
On the 14th, at seven o’clock in the morning, we continued our journey.
At ten minutes past seven, we had five villages of Tamamo three miles
on our left; our road was through gentle rising hills, all pasture
ground. At half past seven, the village of Woggora was three miles on
our right; and at eight, the church of St George a mile on our left,
with a village of the same name near it; and, ten minutes after, Angaba
Mariam, a church dedicated to the virgin, so called from the small
territory Angaba, which we are now entering. At fifty minutes past
eight, we came to five villages called Angaba, at small distances from
each other. At nine o’clock we came to Kossogué, and entered a small
district of that name. The church is on a hill surrounded with trees.
On our left are five villages all called Kossoguè, and as it were on a
line, the farthest at 3 miles distance; near ten we came to the church
of Argiff, in the midst of many ruined villages. Three miles on our
left hand are several others, called Appano.
After having suffered, with infinite patience and perseverance, the
hardships and danger of this long and painful journey, at forty
minutes past ten we were gratified, at last, with the sight of Gondar,
according to my computation about ten miles distant. The king’s palace
(at least the tower of it) is distinctly seen, but none of the other
houses, which are covered by the multitude of wanzey-trees growing
in the town, so that it appears one thick, black wood. Behind it is
Azazo, likewise covered with trees. On a hill is the large church of
Tecla Haimanout, and the river below it makes it distinguishable; still
further on is the great lake Tzana, which terminates our horizon.
At forty-five minutes past ten we began to ascend about two miles
through a broken road, having on our right, in the valley below,
the river Tchagassa; and here begins the territory of that name. At
fifty-five minutes past ten, descending still the hill, we passed
a large spring of water, called Bambola, together with several
plantations of sugar-canes which grow here _from the seed_. At eleven
o’clock the village Tchagassa was about half a mile distant from us
on our right, on the other side of the river. It is inhabited by
Mahometans, as is Waalia, another small one near it. At twelve o’clock
we passed the river Tchagassa over a bridge of three arches, the middle
of which is Gothic, the two lesser Roman. This bridge, though small, is
solid and well cemented, built with stone by order of Facilidas, who
probably employed those of his subjects who had retained the arts of
the Portuguese, but not their religion.
The Tchagassa has very steep, rocky banks: It is so deep, though
narrow, that, without this bridge, it scarce would be passable. We
encamped at a small distance from it, but nearer Gondar. Here again
we met with trees, (small ones indeed) but the first we had seen since
leaving Lamalmon, excepting the usual groves of cedars. It is the
Virginia cedar, or oxy-cedros, in this country called _Arz_, with which
their churches are constantly surrounded.
On the 15th, at ten minutes past seven, we began to ascend the
mountain; and, at twenty minutes after seven, passed a village on
our left. At seven and three quarters we passed Tiba and Mariam, two
churches, the one on our right, the other on our left, about half
a mile distant; and near them several small villages, inhabited by
Falasha, masons and thatchers of houses, employed at Gondar. At half
past eight we came to the village Tocutcho, and, in a quarter of an
hour, passed the river of that name, and in a few minutes rested on the
river Angrab, about half a mile from Gondar.
Tchacassa is the last of the many little districts which, together,
compose Woggora, generally understood to be dependent on Samen,
though often, from the turbulent spirit of its chiefs, struggling
for independency, as at the present time, but sure to pay for it
immediately after. In fact, though large, it is too near Gondar to be
suffered to continue in rebellion; and, being rich and well cultivated,
it derives its support from the capital, as being the mart of its
produce. It is certainly one of the fruitfulest provinces in Abyssinia,
but the inhabitants are miserably poor, notwithstanding their threefold
harvests. Whereas, in Egypt, beholden to this country alone for its
fertility, one moderate harvest gives plenty everywhere.
Woggora is full of large ants, and prodigious swarms of rats and
mice, which consume immense quantities of grain; to these plagues may
be added still one, the greatest of them all, bad government, which
speedily destroys all the advantages they reap from nature, climate,
and situation.
CHAP. VIII.
_Reception at Gondar--Triumphal Entry of the King--The Author’s first
Audience._
We were much surprised at arriving on the Angrab, that no person had
come to us from Petros, Janni’s brother. We found afterwards, indeed,
that he had taken fright upon some menacing words from the priests,
at hearing a Frank was on his way to Gondar, and that he had, soon
after, set out for Ibaba, where the Ras was, to receive his directions
concerning us. This was the most disagreeable accident could have
happened to me. I had not a single person to whom I could address
myself for any thing. My letters were for the king and Ras Michael, and
could be of no use, as both were absent; and though I had others for
Petros and the Greeks, they, too, were out of town.
Many Mahometans came to the Angrab to meet the caravan. They all
knew of my coming perfectly, and I soon explained my situation. I
had Janni’s letters to Negadé Ras Mahomet, the chief of the Moors at
Gondar, and principal merchant in Abyssinia, who was absent likewise
with the army. But one of his brethren, a sagacious, open-hearted
man, desired me not to be discouraged; that, as I had not put off my
Moorish dress, I should continue it; that a house was provided for
Mahomet Gibberti, and those that were with him, and that he would put
me immediately into possession of it, where I might stay, free from
any intercourse with the priests, till Petros or the Ras should return
to Gondar. This advice I embraced with great readiness, as there
was nothing I was so much afraid of as an encounter with fanatical
priests before I had obtained some protection from government, or the
great people in the country. After having concerted these measures, I
resigned myself to the direction of my Moorish friend Hagi Saleh.
We moved along the Angrab, having Gondar on our right situated upon a
hill, and the river on our left, proceeding down till its junction with
a smaller stream, called the Kahha, that joins it at the Moorish town.
This situation, near running water, is always chosen by the Mahometans
on account of their frequent ablutions. The Moorish town at Gondar may
consist of about 3000 houses, some of them spacious and good. I was
put in possession of a very neat one, destined for Mahomet Gibberti.
Flour, honey, and such-like food, Mahometans and Christians eat
promiscuously, and so far I was well situated. As for flesh, although
there was abundance of it, I could not touch a bit of it, being killed
by Mahometans, as that communion would have been looked upon as equal
to a renunciation of Christianity.
By Janni’s servant, who had accompanied us from Adowa, his kind and
friendly master had wrote to Ayto Aylo, of whom I have already spoken.
He was the constant patron of the Greeks, and had been so also of all
the Catholics who had ventured into this country, and been forced
after to leave it. Though no man professed greater veneration for the
priesthood, no one privately detested more those of his own country
than he did; and he always pretended that, if a proper way of going to
Jerusalem could be found, he would leave his large estates, and the
rank he had in Abyssinia, and, with the little money he could muster,
live the remaining part of his days among the monks, of whom he had
now accounted himself one, in the convent of the holy sepulchre. This
perhaps was, great part of it, imagination; but, as he had talked
himself into a belief that he was to end his days either at Jerusalem,
which was a pretence, or at Rome, which was his inclination, he
willingly took the charge of white people of all communions who had
hitherto been unhappy enough to stray into Abyssinia.
It was about seven o’clock at night, of the 15th, when Hagi Saleh was
much alarmed by a number of armed men at his door; and his surprise
was still greater upon seeing Ayto Aylo, who, as far as I know, was
never in the Moorish town before, descend from his mule, and uncover
his head and shoulders, as if he had been approaching a person of the
first distinction. I had been reading the prophet Enoch, which Janni
had procured me at Adowa; and Wemmer’s and Ludolf’s dictionaries were
lying upon it. Yasine was sitting by me, and was telling me what news
he had picked up, and he was well acquainted with Ayto Aylo, from
several commissions he had received for his merchants in Arabia. A
contention of civilities immediately followed. I offered to stand till
Aylo was covered, and he would not sit till I was seated. This being
got over, the first curiosity was, What my books were? and he was very
much astonished at seeing one of them was Abyssinian, and the European
helps that I had towards understanding it. He understood Tigrè and
Amharic perfectly, and had a little knowledge of Arabic, that is, he
understood it when spoken, for he could neither read nor write it, and
spoke it very ill, being at a loss for words.
The beginning of our discourse was in Arabic, and embarrassed enough,
but we had plenty of interpreters in all languages. The first
bashfulness being removed on both sides, our conversation began in
Tigré, now, lately since Michael had become Ras, the language most
used in Gondar. Aylo was exceedingly astonished at hearing me speak
the language as I did, and said after, “The Greeks are poor creatures;
Peter does not speak Tigré so well as this man.” Then, very frequently,
to Saleh and the by-standers, “Come, come, he’ll do, if he can speak;
there is no fear of him, he’ll make his way.”
He told us that Welled Hawaryat had come from the camp ill of a fever,
and that they were afraid it was the small pox: that Janni had informed
them I had saved many young people’s lives at Adowa, by a new manner
of treating them; and that the Iteghé desired I would come the next
morning, and that he should carry me to Koscam and introduce me to her.
I told him that I was ready to be directed by his good advice; that
the absence of the Greeks, and Mahomet Gibberti at the same time, had
very much distressed me, and especially the apprehensions of Petros. He
said, smiling, That neither Petros nor himself were bad men, but that
unfortunately they were great cowards, and things were not always so
bad as they apprehended. What had frightened Petros, was a conversation
of Abba Salama, whom they met at Koscam, expressing his displeasure
with some warmth, that a Frank, meaning me, was permitted to come to
Gondar. “But,” says Ayto Aylo, “we shall hear to-morrow, or next day.
Ras Michael and Abba Salama are not friends; and if you could do any
good to Welled Hawaryat his son, I shall answer for it, one word of his
will stop the mouths of a hundred Abba Salamas.” I will not trouble
the reader with much indifferent conversation that passed. He drank
capillaire and water, and sat till past midnight.
Abba Salama, of whom we shall often speak, at that time filled the
post of Acab Saat, or guardian of the fire. It is the third dignity
of the church, and he is the first religious officer in the palace.
He had a very large revenue, and still a greater influence. He was
a man exceedingly rich, and of the very worst life possible; though
he had taken the vows of poverty and chastity, it was said he had at
that time, above seventy mistresses in Gondar. His way of seducing
women was as extraordinary as the number seduced. It was not by gifts,
attendance, or flattery, the usual means employed on such occasions;
when he had fixed his desires upon a woman, he forced her to comply,
under pain of _excommunication_. He was exceedingly eloquent and bold,
a great favourite of the Iteghè’s, till taken in to be a counsellor
with Lubo and Brulhè. He had been very instrumental in the murder of
Kasmati Eshté, of which he vaunted, even in the palace of the queen his
sister. He was a man of a pleasing countenance, short, and of a very
fair complexion; indifferent, or rather averse to wine, but a monstrous
glutton, nice in what he had to eat, to a degree scarcely before known
in Abyssinia; a mortal enemy to all white people, whom he classed under
the name of Franks, for which the Greeks, uniting their interests at
favourable times, had often very nearly overset him.
The next morning, about ten o’clock, taking Hagi Saleh and Yasine with
me, and dressed in my Moorish dress, I went to Ayto Aylo, and found him
with several great plates of bread, melted butter, and honey, before
him, of one of which he and I ate; the rest were given to the Moors,
and other people present. There was with him a priest of Koscam, and we
all set out for that palace as soon as we had ate breakfast. The rest
of the company were on mules. I had mounted my own favourite horse.
Aylo, before his fright at Sennaar, was one of the first horsemen in
Abyssinia; he was short, of a good figure, and knew the advantage of
such make for a horseman; he had therefore a curiosity to see a tall
man ride; but he was an absolute stranger to the great advantage of
Moorish furniture, bridles, spurs, and stirrups, in the management
of a violent, strong, high-mettled horse. It was with the utmost
satisfaction, when we arrived in the plain called Aylo Meydan, that I
shewed him the different paces of the horse. He cried out with fear
when he saw him stand upright upon his legs, and jump forward, or
aside, with all four feet off the ground.
We passed the brook of St Raphael, a suburb of Gondar, where is the
house of the Abuna; and upon coming in sight of the palace of Koscam,
we all uncovered our heads, and rode slowly. As Aylo was all-powerful
with the Iteghé, indeed her first counsellor and friend, our admittance
was easy and immediate. We alighted, and were shewn into a low room in
the palace. Ayto Aylo went immediately to the queen to inquire about
Welled Hawaryat, and his audience lasted two long hours. He returned to
us with these news, that Welled Hawaryat was much better, by a medicine
a saint from Waldubba had given him, which consisted in some characters
written with common ink upon a tin plate, which characters were washed
off by a medicinal liquor, and then given him to drink. It was agreed,
however, that the complaint was the small-pox, and the good it had done
him was, he had ate heartily of _brind_, or raw beef after it, tho’ he
had not ate before since his arrival, but called perpetually for drink.
Aylo said he was to remain at Koscam till towards evening, and desired
me to meet him at his own house when it turned dark, and to bring
Petros with me, if he was returned.
Petros was returned when I arrived, and waited for me at Hagi Saleh’s
house. Although he shewed all the signs of my being welcome, yet it was
easy to read in his countenance he had not succeeded according to his
wish, in his interview with Michael, or that he had met something that
had ruffled and frightened him anew. And, indeed, this last was the
case, for going to the Ras’s tent, he had seen the stuffed skin of the
unfortunate Woosheka, with whom he was well acquainted, swinging upon a
tree, and drying in the wind. He was so terrified, and struck with such
horror, at the sight, that he was in a kind of hysteric fit, cried,
started, laughed hideously, and seemed as if he had in part lost his
senses.
I was satisfied by the state I saw him in, though he had left Ibaba
three days, that, as the first sight of Woosheka’s stuffed skin must
have been immediately before he went to the Ras, he could not have had
any distinct or particular conversation with him on my account; and
it turned out after, that he had not spoken one word upon the subject
from fear, but had gone to the tent of Negadè Ras Mahomet, who carried
him to Kefla Yasous; that they, too, seeing the fright he was in, and
knowing the cause, had gone without him to the Ras, and told him of my
arrival, and of the behaviour of Abba Salama, and my fear thereupon,
and that I was then in the house of Hagi Saleh, in the Moorish town.
The Ras’s answer was, “Abba Salama is an ass, and they that fear him
are worse. Do I command in Gondar only when I stay there? My dog is of
more consequence in Gondar than Abba Salama.” And then, after pausing a
little, he said, “Let Yagoube stay where he is in the Moors town; Saleh
will let no priests trouble him there.” Negadé Ras Mahomet laughed,
and said, “We will answer for that;” and Petros set out immediately
upon his return, haunted night and day with the ghost of his friend
Woosheka, but without having seen Ras Michael.
I thought, when we went at night to Ayto Aylo, and he had told the
story distinctly, that Aylo and he were equally afraid, for he had not,
or pretended he had not, till then heard that Woosheka had been flayed
alive. Aylo, too, was well acquainted with the unfortunate person, and
only said, “This is Esther, this is Esther; nobody knew her but I.”
Then they went on to inquire particulars, and after, they would stop
one another, and desire each other to speak no more; then they cried
again, and fell into the same conversation. It was impossible not to
laugh at the ridiculous dialogue. “Sirs,” said I, “you have told me all
I want; I shall not stir from the Moors town till Ras Michael arrives;
if there was any need of advice, you are neither of you capable of
giving it; now I would wish you would shew me you are capable of taking
mine. You are both extremely agitated, and Peter is very tired; and
will besides see the ghost of Woosheka shaking to and fro all night
with the wind; neither of you ate supper, as I intend to do; and I
think Peter should stay here all night, but you should not lie both
of you in the same room, where Woosheka’s black skin, so strongly
impressed on your mind, will not fail to keep you talking all night in
place of sleeping. Boil about a quart of gruel, I will put a few drops
into it; go then to bed, and this unusual operation of Michael will not
have power to keep you awake.”
The gruel was made, and a good large doze of laudanum put into it.
I took my leave, and returned with Saleh; but before I went to the
door Aylo told me he had forgot Welled Hawaryat was very bad, and the
Iteghè, Ozoro Altash, his wife, and Ozoro Esther, desired I would come
and see him to-morrow. One of his daughters, by Ozoro Altash, had been
ill some time before his arrival, and she too was thought in great
danger. “Look,” said I, “Ayto Aylo, the small-pox is a disease that
will have its course; and, during the long time the patient is under
it, if people feed them and treat them according to their own ignorant
prejudices, my seeing him, or advising him, is in vain. This morning
you said a man had cured him by writing upon a tin plate; and to try if
he was well, they crammed him with raw beef. I do not think the letters
that he swallowed will do him any harm, neither will they do him any
good; but I shall not be surprised if the raw beef kills him, and his
daughter Welleta Selassé, too, before I see him to-morrow.”
On the morrow Petros was really taken ill, and feverish, from a cold
and fatigue, and fright. Aylo and I went to Koscam, and, for a fresh
amusement to him, I shewed him the manner in which the Arabs use their
firelocks on horseback; but with this advantage of a double-barrelled
gun, which he had never before seen. I shot also several birds from the
horse; all which things he would have pronounced impossible if they had
been only told him. He arrived at Koscam full of wonder, and ready to
believe I was capable of doing every thing I undertook.
We were just entering into the palace-door, when we saw a large
procession of monks, with the priests of Koscam at their head, a large
cross and a picture carried with them, the last in a very dirty,
gilt frame. Aylo turned aside when he saw these; and, going into the
chamberlain’s apartment, called Ayto Heikel, afterwards a great friend
and companion of mine. He informed us, that three great saints from
Waldubba, one of whom had neither ate nor drank for twenty years of
his life, had promised to come and cure Welled Hawaryat, by laying a
picture of the Virgin Mary and the cross upon him, and therefore they
would not wish me to be seen, or meddle in the affair. “I assure you,
Ayto Aylo,” said I, “I shall strictly obey you. There is no sort of
reason for my meddling in this affair with such associates. If they can
cure him by a miracle, I am sure it is the easiest kind of cure of any,
and will not do his constitution the least harm afterwards, which is
more than I will promise for medicines in general; but, remember what
I say to you, it will, indeed, be a miracle, if both the father and
the daughter are not dead before to-morrow night.” We seemed all of us
satisfied in one point, that it was better he should die, than I come
to trouble by interfering.
After the procession was gone, Aylo went to the Iteghè, and, I suppose,
told her all that happened since he had seen her last. I was called in,
and, as usual, prostrated myself upon the ground. She received that
token of respect without offering to excuse or to decline it. Aylo
then said, “This is our gracious mistress, who always gives us her
assistance and protection. You may safely say before her whatever is in
your heart.”
Our first discourse was about Jerusalem, the Holy Sepulchre, Calvary,
the City of David, and the Mountain of Olives, with the situations of
which she was perfectly well acquainted. She then asked me to tell her
truly if I was not a Frank? “Madam,” said I, “if I was a Catholic,
which you mean by Frank, there could be no greater folly than my
concealing this from you in the beginning, after the assurance Ayto
Aylo has just now given; and, in confirmation of the truth I am now
telling, (she had a large bible lying on the table before her, upon
which I laid my hand), I declare to you, by all those truths contained
in this book, that my religion is more different from the Catholic
religion than your’s is: that there has been more blood shed between
the Catholics and us, on account of the difference of religion, than
ever was between you and the Catholics in this country; even at this
day, when men are become wiser and cooler in many parts of the world,
it would be full as safe for a Jesuit to preach in the market-place
of Gondar, as for any priest of my religion to present himself as a
teacher in the most civilized of Frank or Catholic countries.”--“How is
it then,” says she, “that you don’t believe in miracles?”
“I see, Madam,” said I, “Ayto Aylo has informed you of a few words
that some time ago dropt from me. I do certainly believe the miracles
of Christ and his apostles, otherwise I am no Christian; but I do
not believe these miracles of latter times, wrought upon trifling
occasions, like sports, and jugglers tricks.”--“And yet,” says she,
“our books are full of them.”--“I know they are,” said I, “and so are
those of the Catholics: but I never can believe that a saint converted
the devil, who lived, forty years after, a holy life as a monk; nor
the story of another saint, who, being sick and hungry, caused a brace
of partridges, ready-roasted, to fly upon his plate that he might eat
them.”--“He has been reading the Synaxar,” says Ayto Aylo. “I believe
so,” says she, smiling; “but is there any harm in believing too much,
and is not there great danger in believing too little?”--“Certainly,”
continued I; “but what I meant to say to Ayto Aylo was, that I did not
believe laying a picture upon Welled Hawaryat would recover him when
delirious in a fever.” She answered, “There was nothing impossible with
God.” I made a bow of assent, wishing heartily the conversation might
end there.
I returned to the Moors town, leaving Aylo with the queen. In the
afternoon I heard Welleta Selassé was dead; and at night died her
father, Welled Hawaryat. The contagion from Masuah and Adowa had spread
itself all over Gondar. Ozoro Ayabdar, daughter of Ozoro Altash, was
now sick, and a violent fever had fallen upon Koscam. The next morning
Aylo came to me and told me, the faith in the saint who did not eat or
drink for twenty years was perfectly abandoned since Welled Hawaryat’s
death: That it was the desire of the queen, and Ozoro Esther, that I
should transport myself to Koscam to the Iteghé’s palace, where all
their children and grandchildren, by the different men the queen’s
daughters had married, were under her care. I told him, “I had some
difficulty to obey them, from the positive orders I had received from
Petros to stay in the Moors town with Hagi Saleh till the Ras should
arrive; that Koscam was full of priests, and Abba Salama there every
day; notwithstanding which, if Petros and he so advised me, I would
certainly go to do any possible service to the Iteghé, or Ozoro Esther.”
He desired half an hour’s absence before he gave me an answer, but did
not return till about three hours afterwards, and, without alighting,
cried out at some distance, “Aya, come, you must go immediately.” “I
told him, that new and clean clothes in the Gondar fashion had been
procured for me by Petros, and that I wished they might be sent to
his house, where I would put them on, and then go to Koscam, with a
certainty that I carried no infection with me, for I had attended a
number of Moorish children, while at Hagi Saleh’s house, most of whom
happily went on doing well, but that there was no doubt there would
be infection in my clothes.” He praised me up to the skies for this
precaution, and the whole was executed in the manner proposed. My hair
was cut round, curled, and perfumed, in the Amharic fashion, and I was
thenceforward, in all outward appearance, a perfect Abyssinian.
My first advice, when arrived at Koscam, was, that Ozoro Esther, and
her son by Mariam Barea, and a son by Ras Michael, should remove from
the palace, and take up their lodging in a house formerly belonging to
her uncle Basha Eusebius, and give the part of the family that were yet
well a chance of escaping the disease. Her young son by Mariam Barea,
however, complaining, the Iteghè would not suffer him to remove, and
the resolution was taken to abide the issue all in the palace together.
Before I entered upon my charge, I desired Petros (now recovered)
Aylo, Abba Christophorus, a Greek priest who acted as physician before
I came to Gondar, and Armaxikos priest of Koscam, and favourite of
the Iteghè, to be all present. I stated to them the disagreeable task
now imposed upon me, a stranger without acquaintance or protection,
having the language but imperfectly, and without power or controul
among them. I professed my intention of doing my utmost, although the
disease was much more serious and fatal in this country than in mine,
but I insisted one condition should be granted me, which was, that
no directions as to regimen or management, even of the most trifling
kind, as they might think, should be suffered, without my permission
and superintendence, otherwise I washed my hands of the consequence,
which I told before them would be fatal. They all assented to this,
and Armaxikos declared those excommunicated that broke this promise;
and I saw that, the more scrupulous and particular I was, the more
the confidence of the ladies increased. Armaxikos promised me the
assistance of his prayers, and those of the whole monks, morning and
evening; and Aylo said lowly to me, “You’ll have no objection to this
saint, I assure you he eats and drinks heartily, as I shall shew you
when once these troubles are over.”
I set the servants all to work. There were apartments enough. I opened
all the doors and windows, fumigating them with incense and myrrh,
in abundance, washed them with warm water and vinegar, and adhered
strictly to the rules which my worthy and skilful friend Doctor Russel
had given me at Aleppo.
The common and fatal regimen in this country, and in most parts in the
east, has been to keep their patient from feeling the smallest breath
of air; hot drink, a fire, and a quantity of covering are added in
Abyssinia, and the doors shut so close as even to keep the room in
darkness, whilst this heat is further augmented by the constant burning
of candles.
Ayabdar, Ozoro Altash’s remaining daughter, and the son of Mariam
Barea, were both taken ill at the same time, and happily recovered.
A daughter of Kasmati Boro, by a daughter of Kasmati Eshtès, died,
and her mother, though she survived, was a long time ill afterwards.
Ayabdar was very much marked, so was Mariam Barea’s son.
At this time, Ayto Confu, son of Kasmati Netcho by Ozoro Esther, had
arrived from Tcherkin, a lad of very great hopes, though not then
fourteen. He came to see his mother without my knowledge or her’s, and
was infected likewise. Last of all the infant child of Michael, the
child of his old age, took the disease, and though the weakest, of all
the children, recovered best. I tell these actions for brevity’s sake
altogether, not directly in the order they happened, to satisfy the
reader about the reason of the remarkable attention and favour shewed
to me afterwards upon so short an acquaintance.