No royal residence can be conceived more desolate and less princely than
the palace at Debra Berhan, "the Hill of Glory." Crumbling walls of
loose uncemented stone, patched in their various breaches and
dilapidations by splintered palisades, surround a vast assemblage of
wattle and dab edifices, of various shapes and dimensions, which are
clumped together in separate court-yards, without any regard to
appearance. Six rude gateways on the southern side conduct through as
many miry enclosures, lined with troops, and crowded with herds, flocks,
and applicants for justice. A paddock, covered with bright green turf,
extends in front of the chamber of audience. Hoary junipers stretch
their moss-grown branches fantastically over the lawn; and at the
further extremity of the enclosure rise the mouldering remains of the
palace of Zara Yacoob.
This monarch, who was the founder of Debra Berhan, is reputed to have
been endowed with the wisdom of Solomon, his great ancestor: and the
vestiges that remain of his abode, certainly exhibit an order of
architecture far superior to that of the present degenerate day. It has
been composed of large blocks of hewn, though unsculptured, stone; but,
in common with every other boasted edifice erected in the height of
Ethiopic splendour, it perished during the reign of Nebla Dengel, by the
hand of the destroyer Graan. Hatze Zara Yacoob first attached capital
punishment to the continuance of idolatry. He instituted an
inquisition, and persecuted every one who paid adoration to the cow and
serpent. Amongst others who underwent execution were two of his own
sons-in-law; and he finally issued a proclamation, confiscating the
lands of those who should thenceforth neglect to carry on the right arm
an amulet inscribed with the words, "I have renounced the Devil and all
his works for Christ Jesus our Lord."
Tradition asserts that "the Hill of Glory," now barren of trees, was in
days of yore thickly covered with forest, through which ran a single
path. In the beginning of the fifteenth century the founder, who was
also styled Constantine, fled into its depths before an invasion of the
Adaiel, and becoming bewildered in the intricacies, hurried hither and
thither, exclaiming in his dilemma, "_Ber eza, her eza_?" "Where is the
road?" Suddenly there shone forth over the eminence a great halo of
light from heaven, which served him as a beacon by which to escape out
of the labyrinth. In some of the adjacent swamps are to be seen the
ancient remains of decomposed timber, and a few venerable junipers still
survive within the palace enclosure; but beyond these monuments of
antiquity the truth of the legend rests solely on the name of the river
Bereza, a serpentine stream winding round the foot of the hill, and
forming one of the principal sources of the Blue Nile.
Tegulet, "the city of the wolves," the capital of all Abyssinia in her
brighter days, and a spot untrodden by European foot since the visit of
Father Alvarez, forms a conspicuous feature in the view presented from
the village. Occupying a commanding promontory, round which flows the
river Salacha, it is environed by singular bluffs; and one natural
fissure, visible from a great distance, affords the only practicable
ascent to the impregnable fortress, upon which the Galla, in the
meridian of their power, were unable to make the slightest impression
during reiterated attempts to carry it by storm. The Alaka of Tegulet
is superior also of the celebrated shrine of Sena Markos, a saint of the
days of Tekla Haimanot. The monastery, named after its founder,
occupies a similar inaccessible fastness, overlooking a part of the
valley of the Nile, and the whole of the north and west of Shoa, as far
as the chain of lofty mountains which here form the bulwark of the
Christian kingdom.
The view from the village of Etteghe, near Tegulet, is so extensive that
it has given rise to a proverb, "From Etteghe is the Echegue or Grand
Prior of the Monks, to be seen at Gondar." Forty-four rivulets,
corresponding in number with the churches of that city, are said to pay
tribute through this district to the Adabai, which sends its waters down
the Jumma to the Nile; their short course of little more than one
hundred and fifty miles, involving so rapid a declination to the
westward, that nearly all have cataracts in some part, and are
consequently destitute of finny inhabitants. The immediate environs of
Tegulet are intersected by the beds of rapid torrents, having high
precipitous banks, which afford few accessible roads, whether to man or
beast--a fact to which this portion of Shoa may be concluded to have
owed its security during the inpourings of heathen and Mohammadan
hordes. Tegulet-wat, "the devouring depths," a fathomless abyss yawning
on the banks of one of these streams, and described as the habitation of
demons, is believed by the superstitious to communicate with the "great
water." It proved the grave of numerous Christian warriors, who, during
the bloody contest with the Adaiel, tumbled unexpectedly into its dark
bosom, and were heard of no more.
It was at the close of the fifteenth century that Mafoodi, the bigoted
king of Hurrur, unfurling the green banner of the Prophet, commenced
those devastating inroads upon the frontiers of Shoa, which finally led
to the dismemberment of the Ethiopic empire, and proved the greatest
calamity that has ever befallen the country. Under a vow that he would
annually spend the forty days of Lent among the Abyssinian infidels, he
overran Efat and Fatigar when the people, weakened by rigorous fasting,
were less capable of bearing arms--burned churches and monasteries, slew
without mercy every male who fell in his way, and driving off the women
and children, sold some into foreign slavery, and presented others to
the Sheriffe of Mecca. Alexander, the then reigning emperor, was
assassinated at Tegulet by Za Selassie, commander-in-chief of the royal
body-guard, who had been bought over by Mafoodi. The eyeballs of the
regicide were seared with a red hot iron; his hands and feet were
chopped off; and he was stoned to death amid the curses and execrations
of the populace, after he had been paraded on an ass in this mutilated
condition throughout Shoa and Amhara.
Debra Berhan is one of the principal depots for the numerous royal
slaves, the possession of whom casts the foulest blot on the character
of the Christian monarch. A strange clatter, and a Babel-like mixture
of tongues, greets the ear of the visitor, and the features of many
races, and of many nations, are distinctly visible among the crowd that
throngs the gate, although all are alike enveloped in the disguising
costume of Abyssinia.
The huge black Shankela, with blubber lip and bloodshot eye, is resting
for a moment against the broken wall, and stretching a brawny limb which
might have supported the bully Hercules himself. Grinning from ear to
ear as his burly neighbour sports some savage joke in licence
unrestrained, he seizes with a three-horse power his bundle of split
wood, which two Amhara could with difficulty raise, and poising it like
a feather upon his woolly head, walks away in all the vigour of a young
giant.
With his own approving eye the monarch has selected this specimen from a
lot of powerful negroes captured beyond the Nile, and fifteen silver
crowns must not be lightly squandered even by the great sovereign of
Southern Abyssinia. Rations are well supplied to support his sinewy
form, and unless on a cold raw day, when the soaking rain has penetrated
every thread of his black blanket, and his shivering frame brings
vividly to mind the difference of climate, the enslaved pagan, in his
present condition, as hewer in the royal forests, enjoys himself fully
as well as if ranging in savage liberty over his own free country of the
sun.
Not so the scowling Galla who follows in his rear. The spirit of roving
independence is still unsubdued in his fiery eye; and the slender figure
and the bent leg proclaim the wild rider of the grassy plain. Heavy and
heartbroken he plods along under a burthen to which his strength is
quite inadequate; and the groan escapes from his lips as the bitter
thoughts enter his soul of the disgraceful lash of the task-master, that
perhaps awaits his return, and he remembers the lost wife and little
ones whom he has for ever left on the distant savannahs of the Hawash.
Issuing from the gateway under the authority of a bloated eunuch, a
numerous flock of brown damsels take their way to the river. Heavy
earthen jars are slung over their slender backs, and the light forms of
the unfortunates are little concealed by their torn and scanty attire.
These are newly purchased Christians from the last Gurague caravan, and
the language of the Amhara is still strange to their ear. Garlands of
the yellow buttercup deck the plaited raven locks of each captive maid,
and a plaintive song is chanted in soft mellow notes to beguile the
hours of toil. But the lines of slavery have already found place among
their youthful features, which possess beauty unknown to those of their
oppressors. The low chorus swelling mournful and piteous from the band,
has recalled thoughts of home and liberty to the joyless breast; and the
sad tear is brushed from the long dark eye-lash at the recollection of
happier hours spent in their own sweet land of spices.
Following close behind comes a group of favoured dames of a certain age,
from whose minds time has effaced all remembrance of country and of
kindred. Exalted to the post of mistresses of the royal brewery, and
decked out like the first ladies of the land, in flowing garments
resplendent with crimson stripes, they have little reason to wish for a
change of condition. Bars and studs of solid silver load their
perforated ears, and ponderous pewter bangles encircle each wrist and
ankle. Their wigs, arranged according to the most becoming fashion, in
minute rows of tiny curls, glisten under a coat of butter, and their fat
cheeks, plastered with grease and red pigment, are calculated to strike
respect into the heart of the most indifferent beholder. Their
unceasing clack and clatter tell the tale of the wonted freedom of
female tongue, but the small jar with the green branch protruding from
the narrow neck, is strapped over the breast with the thong of slavery;
and the attending eunuch, with his long thin wand--an emblem of his own
withered person--proclaims the fact that the ladies cannot roam at
pleasure over the verdant mead, but must restrict themselves in the
beaten path according to the cracked voice of their driver.
Seated upon a gaily caparisoned mule, amidst the jingling of bells and
brass ornaments, the general of the gun-men proceeds in state across the
green parade. He is attired in the richest garments that the land can
produce. A glaring cloth of red silk is wound about his brow, a silver
sword decorates his right side, and fifty robed followers attend his
every behest. But he too is a slave, as was his father before him, and
as his son will be after him. All the bones and sinews of his
attendants are the purchased property of the monarch, and it is only by
the imperial will and pleasure, which may be changed to-morrow, that he
is now ambling in chintz and satin to dine at the royal board, instead
of holding place in the foremost group, with a black blanket over his
shoulder, and a load of wood upon his head for fuel in the royal
kitchen.
Here comes a demure damsel from the harem, disfigured by all the foul
garments and native filth which delight the inhabitant of Shoa. It is
Wuletta Georgis, one of Her Majesty's confidential slaves, and she is
revolving in her mind, how, in executing her mistress's commission, she
can contrive to promote her own interests. Born and bred in the palace,
the Abigail is ordinarily treated with kindness, unless the fracture of
a brittle decanter, or the unbidden attack upon some savoury dish,
involve a little wholesome correction. Unlike the philosophical maid in
Rasselas, who had broken the porcelain cup, she needs pecuniary aid, and
thus is her request sobbed out: "Only one dollar to replace the queen's
looking-glass, and may God reward you!" But the sob is evidently
assumed for the occasion, and a sly glance may be detected in the corner
of her cunning eye, to observe the effect of her false appeal. The full
price of the fractured mirror has already been received from three
several individuals, and her mistress will assuredly confiscate the
profits; but the tenure of property during even one short half hour
possesses charms irresistible, and the poor girl falls prostrate on the
ground as the silver is dropped into her unwashed fingers.
A last group is straggling through the gateway. The aged and the
infirm, who can still perform a light task, have just received their
daily dole from the royal storehouse at the niggard hand of the pampered
steward. The vigour of their youth has been expended in the service of
the despot, and now, in the evening of life, their original scanty
pittance is yet further reduced. A wistful glance is cast upon the
handful of raw barley, which must content them for the day. Hunger and
destitution are painfully portrayed in the deep furrows of each withered
face, and the shrunken limb totters as the keen wind whistles through
the wet folds of the tattered goat-skin girdle, which reaches barely to
the knee. No fostering hand awaits their return to the cheerless hut,
to minister in kindness to the necessities of age; and the last closing
scene will drop a welcome curtain of repose over sinews ground by
indigence and toil, during half a century of hopeless bondage.
Volume Two, Chapter VIII.