ABYSSINIA--_Concluded_.
BIRTH, LIFE, AND DEATH OF THE ABYSSINIANS -- CEREMONIES AT BIRTH --
THE CIRCUMCISION AND BAPTISM -- CARE AS TO THE EXACT DATE OF EACH
RITE -- MARRIAGE, CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS, AND THEIR DIFFERENT CHARACTERS
-- THE CIVIL MARRIAGE AND ITS ATTENDANT CEREMONIES -- DEATH AND
FUNERAL -- SHAPE OF THE GRAVE -- THE HIRED MOURNERS -- THE SUCCESSIVE
COMMEMORATIONS OF THE DEAD -- RAISING THE HAI-HO -- THE RELIGION
OF ABYSSINIA -- FASTING AND FEASTING BOTH CARRIED TO EXTREMES --
ST. JOHN’S DAY AND THE ANNUAL WASHING -- FRIENDLY SKIRMISHES --
ABYSSINIAN CHURCHES -- THE SANCTUARY AND THE ARK -- THE ARK IN BATTLE
-- IGNORANCE OF THE PRIESTHOOD -- THE BIBLE A SEALED BOOK TO PRIESTS
AND LAYMEN -- LIFE OF A SAINT -- SUPERSTITION -- TRANSFORMATION
-- THE BOUDA AND THE TIGRITIYA -- EXAMPLES SEEN BY MR. PARKYNS --
ABYSSINIAN ARCHITECTURE.
We will now cursorily glance at the life of an Abyssinian from his
birth to his funeral.
As soon as the birth of a child is expected, all the men leave the
house, as they would be considered as polluted if they were under the
same roof, and would not be allowed to enter a church for forty days.
The women take immediate charge of the new comer, wash and perfume it,
and mould its little features in order to make them handsome. Should it
be a boy, it is held up to the window until a warrior thrusts a lance
into the room and pokes it into the child’s mouth, this ceremony being
supposed to make it courageous. The throat of a fowl is then cut in
front of the child, and the women utter their joy-cries--twelve times
for a boy and three times for a girl. They then rush tumultuously out
of the house, and try to catch the men. If they succeed, they hustle
their captives about, and force them to ransom themselves by a jar of
mead, or some such present.
Next come the religious ceremonies; and it is not the least curious
point in the religious system of the Abyssinians that they have
retained the Jewish rite, to which they superadded Christian baptism.
Eight days after birth the child is circumcised, twenty days afterward
the priests enter the house, and perform a purification service which
restores it to general use, and forty days afterward the baptism
takes place, should the child be a boy, and eighty days if a girl. A
plaited cord of red, blue, and white silk is then placed round the
child’s neck, as a token that it has been baptized, which is afterward
exchanged for the blue cord, or “match,” worn by all Christian
Abyssinians. There is a curious law that, if either of the sponsors
should die without issue, his godchild becomes the heir to his property.
The priests are very particular about the date of the baptism. They
believe that Adam and Eve did not receive the spirit of life until they
had been created forty and eighty days. Should the father miscalculate
the date, he would be sentenced to a year’s fasting; while the priest
is liable to a similar penalty if he should happen to assign the wrong
day.
As to their marriages, the Abyssinians manage them very easily. As soon
as betrothal takes place, which is mostly at a very early age, the
couple are not allowed to see each other, even though they may have
enjoyed the greatest liberty beforehand. So rigidly is this practice
carried out in Tigré, that the bride never leaves her father’s house
until her marriage, believing that if she did so she would be bitten by
a snake.
Just before the wedding-day, a “dass,” or marquee, is built of stakes
and reeds for the reception of the wedding-party, in which the
marriage-feast is prepared. Certain distinguished guests have special
places reserved for them; but any one is at liberty to enter and eat
to his heart’s content. A scene of great turmoil always occurs on these
occasions, a crowd of men who have already been fed trying to gain
re-admission, whilst another crowd of hungry applicants is fighting and
pushing toward the entrance. Order is kept to some extent by a number
of young men who volunteer their services, and are allowed to exercise
their office as they think best, hitting about at the crowd, and no man
returning their blows. As soon as one batch of guests have eaten as
much as they can be expected to consume, the door-keepers turn them out
by main force and admit a fresh batch.
After the feast, the bride is carried in upon a man’s back, and put
down, like a sack of coals, on a stool. Music and dancing then take
place, while the bridegroom, attended by his groomsmen, or “arkees,”
is proceeding to the house, accompanied by his friends, and preceded
by music. When he arrives, the marriage--which is a civil rather than
a religious ceremony--takes place, an address being delivered to the
married couple by a priest, should one happen to be present; if not, by
an elder; and the actual ceremony is at an end.
The arkees have a number of curious offices to perform, among which is
the custom of collecting gifts for the newly-married couple, begging
with songs and drum-beating before the houses. If nothing be given
them, they take whatever they wish; and, after a wedding the robberies
are countless, the arkees being privileged persons during their term
of office. They are even allowed to perjure themselves--a crime which
is held in the deepest abhorrence by all Abyssinian Christians. Should
a person from whom anything is stolen offer a present as a ransom, the
arkees are obliged to give up the stolen property; but should they have
taken fowls or any other edibles, there is no restitution possible, the
arkees taking care to have them cooked and eaten at once.
Such marriages, being merely civil ceremonies, are dissolved as easily
as they are made, the slightest pretext on either side being considered
as sufficient for the separation. Should there be children, the father
takes the boys, and the mother the girls, and each will probably marry
again almost immediately.
In consequence of this very easy arrangement, it often happens that,
in one family of children, two may be by one mother, two by another,
and one or two more by a third; and it is almost invariably the case
that the children of one father by different mothers hate each other
cordially, while the children of one mother by different fathers live
together in amity.
Besides these civil marriages, which are really no marriages at all,
there are ecclesiastical marriages, which are held to be indissoluble.
These, however, are very seldom contracted except between persons
who have been civilly married, and have found, after many years of
experience, that they cannot be better suited. They therefore go to the
church, are married by the priest, and receive the Communion together.
When an Abyssinian dies, the funeral takes place within a very short
time, the same day being preferred if possible. The death being
announced from the house-top by the relatives, and by messengers to the
neighboring villages, a grave is at once dug by volunteers. There are
no professional grave-diggers in Abyssinia, but, as the act of burying
the dead is considered as a meritorious one, plenty of assistance
is always found. The body is then placed on a couch and carried to
the grave, the whole of the Psalter being repeated as the procession
makes its way. Six halts are made during the progress of the body to
the church, at each of which incense is burned over it, and certain
portions of the Scriptures are read, or rather gabbled, as fast as the
words can be repeated. In order to save time, each priest or scribe who
is present has a certain portion assigned to him, and they all read at
once, so that not a word can be caught by the mourners. These, however,
are making such a noise on their own account that they do not trouble
themselves about hearing the Scriptures.
The bearers of the corpse manage so that their seventh halt is made at
the church gate. Here more portions of Scripture are read in the same
time-saving fashion, while the body is wrapped in a cloth made of palm
leaves, this being emblematical of the palms thrown before our Lord on
his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. When the grave is ready, the priest
descends into it and censes it, after which the body is lowered and the
earth filled in.
In consequence of the rapidity with which burial follows death, the
mourning ceremonies are postponed for three days, so as to give time
for assembling the mourners, and making the corresponding preparations.
On that day the mourners proceed to a spot near the church, on which is
placed a couch containing a rude figure of a human being, supposed to
represent the deceased person. The relations appear with their heads
shaven like those of the priests, and among the Tigréans they rub
their foreheads and temples with the borders of their robes until they
take off the skin, and produce sores which often occupy many weeks in
healing. Mostly the injury is so great, that when the skin is renewed
it is blacker than the rest of the body, and remains so during life,
giving to the face a very singular expression. The Amharas do not
employ this mode of showing their grief.
Each of the mourners then advances, and pronounces a sort of eulogy on
the deceased, generally uttering their panegyrics in a sort of rude
verse. In case, however, the relatives should not be good poets, a
number of professional mourners attend the funeral, some being hired,
but the greater number coming merely in hope of a fee and a share in
the funeral banquet which concludes the proceedings. According to Mr.
Parkyns, these people will give minute details of the history of the
dead man, his deeds, character, and even his property; and this to a
great length, thus: “O Gabron, son of Welda Mousa, grandson of Itta
Garra Raphael, &c. &c.; rider of the bay horse with white feet, and of
the grey ambling mule; owner of the Damascus barrel-gun, and bearer of
the silver-mounted shield, why have you left us?” &c., entering with
astonishing readiness into every particular of the deceased’s life
and actions. All the bystanders, at the end of each verse, break in
with a chorus of sobbing lamentations, adapted to a mournful chant,
“Moui! wai! wai! wailayay! wailay! wailayay!” &c., which has a pretty
plaintive sound, especially when, as is usually the case, a number of
soft female voices join in.
“The ‘ambilta’ and the ‘cundan’ keep time with them, and add not a
little to the effect. This continues until all the expected friends
have arrived, and had their fill of wailing; and about noon the whole
party retire to the house, where a cow is killed, and a quantity
of provisions provided for those who have come from a distance.
Everything, except the cow, is usually furnished by the neighbors, as
the mourners are supposed to be so overwhelmed with grief as to be
unable to attend to such preparations.”
The “ambilta,” which is mentioned above, is a musical instrument
composed of a set of six pipes, each performer having one pipe, and
each pipe only having one note. The “cundan melakhat” is made of four
long cane tubes, each having a bell, and a reed mouth-piece, like
that of a clarionet. They are played in succession like the ambilta,
and give forth very harsh and unpleasant notes. Both instruments
are generally accompanied by a small drum. Although the immediate
ceremonies of the funeral terminate with this feast, they are not
totally completed. Indeed, for a whole year, masses are said regularly
for forty days, and another mass is said on the eightieth day. A second
and larger edition of the funeral feast, called the “teskar,” is held
six months after the burial, and sometimes lasts for several days.
To this feast come all the poor, who claim for themselves the right of
being helped before any of the regular guests. They seat themselves
in the “dass,” and pour out loud invocations, until an official comes
round, and slightly taps each one on the head with a stick. The man who
has been thus signalled holds out his hands, and receives in them a
portion of meat rolled up in “teff” bread. When all have been served,
they hold the food under their mouths, and call, in a very loud voice,
“Hai... oh!” the last syllable being protracted until they have no more
breath.
“This “Hai... oh!” is thought to be a sort of benediction, and very few
would dare to omit it. Such an omission would be taken as a drawing
down of the maledictions of the poor, and would excite the greatest
contempt. If such a man were to quarrel, his opponent would be sure
to say to him, “Ah! you are the man who made no ‘Hai... oh!’ for his
brother.”
On the next day the priests and men of highest rank assemble, and day
by day the rank of the guests diminishes, until the seventh day is
contemptuously given to the women. Six months after the teskar another
feast, but of a larger kind, is held, and on every anniversary of the
funeral food is sent to the priests.
* * * * *
We now naturally come to the religion of the Abyssinians.
This is a kind of Christianity which consists chiefly in fasting, so
that an Abyssinian life oscillates between alternate severe fasts and
inordinate gluttony. The fasts of the Abyssinian Church occupy nearly
two-thirds of the year, and are measured in duration by the length of
the shadow. One fast, for example, must be kept until a man’s shadow
measures in length nine and a half of his own feet, another until it is
nine feet, and a third until it is ten feet long. And these fasts are
real ones, no food of any kind being taken until the prescribed time,
and no such modifications as fish, &c., being allowed to mitigate their
severity. During Good Friday and the following Saturday the clergy, and
all who have any pretensions to religion, fast for forty-eight hours;
and, altogether, including the Wednesdays and Fridays, two hundred and
sixty days of fasting occur in the year. During the long fasts, such as
that of Lent, which lasts for fifty-five days, the people are allowed
to eat on the mornings of Saturday and Sunday, but, even in that case,
meat in any form is strictly forbidden.
As soon as the lengthening shadow proclaims the end of the fast, the
feasting sets in, and during the season of Epiphany the whole night
is passed in a succession of eating, drinking, singing, dancing, and
praying, each being considered equally a religious duty. Then there is
a sort of game, much resembling our “hockey,” at which all the people
play, those from one district contending against those of another, much
as the Ashburne North and South football match used to be conducted on
Shrove Tuesday.
[Illustration: (1.) THE BATTLE FIELD. (See page 663.)]
[Illustration: (2.) INTERIOR OF AN ABYSSINIAN HOUSE. (See page 667.)]
St. John’s Day is a great feast among the Abyssinians, and has this
pre-eminence over the others, that all the people not only wash
themselves, but their clothes also. It is the only day when the
Abyssinians apply water externally, with the exception of washing the
hands before and after meals, and the feet alter a journey. In fact,
they consider that washing the body is a heathenish and altogether
un-Christian practice, only to be practised by the Mohammedans and such
like contemptible beings.
Between St. John’s Day and the feast of Mascal, or the Cross, the young
people of both sexes keep up a continual skirmishing. In the evening
they all leave their houses, the boys with bunches of nettles, and
the girls with gourds filled with all kinds of filth. When they meet,
they launch volleys of abuse at each other, the language being not the
most delicate in the world, and then proceed to active measures, the
girls flinging the contents of the gourds at the boys, while the latter
retaliate by nettling the girls about their naked shoulders.
The day on which the greatest ceremonials take place is the feast of
Mascal. On the eve of Mascal every one goes about with torches, first
carrying them over the houses, and peering into every crevice like the
Jews looking for leaven, and then sallying into the air. The play which
ensues mostly turns into a fight, which reminded Mr. Parkyns of the
town and gown rows at college, and which begin in the same way, _i.
e._ with the mischievous little boys. These begin at first to abuse
each other, and then to fight. Next, a man sees his son getting rather
roughly handled, drags him out of the fray, and pommels his antagonist.
The father of the latter comes to the rescue of his son, the friends
of each party join in the struggle, and a general fight takes place.
Mostly these contests are harmless, but, if the combatants have been
indulging too freely in drink, they are apt to resort to their weapons,
and to inflict fatal injuries.
During the night great fires of wood are built by the chiefs on the
highest hills near the towns, and set on fire before daybreak. Oxen
and sheep are then led three times round the fires, slaughtered, and
left to be eaten by the birds and beasts of prey. This is distinctly
a heathen custom, both the position of the altar and the mode of
sacrifice designating clearly the fire-worshipper. When, therefore, the
people awake in the morning after the fatigue and dissipation of the
night, they find the whole country illuminated with these hill-fires.
They then go to their several chiefs, and all the soldiers boast before
him of their prowess, some describing the feats which they have done
before the enemy, and others prophesying the feats that they intend
to do when they happen to meet an enemy. Gifts are mostly presented
at this time, and feasting goes on as usual; every chief, however
petty, slaughtering as many cows as he can afford, and almost every
householder killing at least one cow.
The churches of Abyssinia are not in the least like those edifices with
which we generally associate the name of church, being small, low,
flat-roofed, and, indeed, very much like the old Jewish tabernacle
transformed into a permanent building. Some of the more modern churches
are oblong or square, but the real ancient Abyssinian buildings are
circular, and exactly resemble the ordinary houses, except that
they are rather larger. They are divided into three compartments by
concentric walls. The space between the first and second wall is that
in which the laity stand, the priests alone having the privilege of
entering the holy place within the second wall.
In the very centre is a small compartment, sometimes square and
sometimes circular. This is the Most Holy Place, and contains the ark,
which is venerated almost as much by the Abyssinians as the ancient
ark was reverenced by the Jews. The ark is merely a wooden box, in
many churches being of extreme antiquity, and within it is placed the
Decalogue. Over the ark is a canopy of silk or chintz, and around it
are a vast number of silken and cotton rags. They even fancy that the
original ark of the Jews is deposited within a rock-shrine in Abyssinia.
The Abyssinians also follow the old Jewish custom of taking their
sacred shrine into battle.
In an illustration on page 662, which represents a battle between the
Abyssinians and Gallas, is seen the king, shaded with his umbrellas,
giving orders to a mounted chief, whose ornamented shield and silver
coronal denote his rank. In the distance may be seen villages on
fire, while on the right an attack is being made on one of the lofty
strongholds in which the people love to entrench themselves. Several
dead Gallas are seen in the foreground, and in front of the king are
some of the fallen prisoners begging for mercy. In the right-hand
corner of the illustration is seen a conical object on the back of a
mule. This is one of their shrines, which accompanies them as the ark
used to accompany the Israelites to battle. The shrine mostly contains
either a Bible or the relics of some favorite saint, and the covering
of the mule is always of scarlet cloth. Two priests, with their white
robes and turbans, are seen guarding the mule.
Paintings of the rudest possible description decorate the walls of the
church, and are looked upon with the greatest awe, though they are
no better in execution than the handiwork of a child of six. Their
subjects are generally the Crucifixion and conventional portraits of
saints, St. George being, perhaps, the greatest favorite, and having
the most numerous representations.
The priesthood are, as may be imagined, no very good examples either
of piety or letters. Some of them, but by no means all, can read; and
even of those who do possess this accomplishment, very few trouble
themselves to understand what they read, but gabble the words in parrot
fashion, without producing the least impression on the brain.
Such being the education of the teachers, that of the taught may
be inferred; in fact, no Abyssinian layman can read. The late King
Theodore was a brilliant exception to this general rule; but then it
must be remembered that he had passed several years in a monastery,
and had partaken of the same educational privileges as those who were
intended for the priesthood. Consequently, the Bible is a sealed book
to all the laity and to a very large proportion of the priests, and the
lives of the saints, and the various written charms which they purchase
so freely, are by the Abyssinians valued far above the sacred volume
itself.
As moreover the scribes, who are the most educated men in the country,
gain their living by writing copies of the Bible, of the lives of the
saints, and by writing charms, it is their interest to keep the people
in ignorance, even though the laity were to manifest any desire to
think for themselves. As, however, thinking is far too troublesome
a process for them, they very contentedly leave all their religious
matters in the hands of their clergy. Each man to his own business, say
they--the warriors to fight, the priests to pray.
As for these lives of the saints, they are a collection of the most
marvellous tales, often ludicrous and puerile, mostly blasphemous
according to our ideas on the subject, but sometimes highly poetic
and even touching the sublime. There is one tale of St. Gabro Memfus
Kouddos, _i. e._ Slave of the Holy Spirit, which contrives to comprise
in itself all these elements. He was born a saint, stood up and
repeated the threefold invocation three days after his birth, and was
so very holy that for his entire life he took no nourishment of any
kind. Once he fell over a precipice three hundred feet deep, and when
the angels spread their wings under him he declined their assistance,
giving his reasons at such length that the fall must have been a very
slow one. The apparently blasphemous portions of his life I omit, and
proceed to the end of it.
He _would_ go on living for such an unconscionable time that at last
the angel of death was sent personally to fetch him. The saint,
however, declined the invitation, and logically argued that, as he had
neither eaten nor drunk, his body did not belong to earth, therefore
could not be restored to earth, and that, on the whole, any change must
be for the worse. All the previous saints came and tried to persuade
him, and at last he found himself obliged to die. But then there was
a great controversy as to the destination of his body. Air, of course,
would not take it; and as the saint had never eaten nor drunk nor used
a fire, neither of the elements could receive his body; and so he was
again restored to it, and, still living, was taken up to heaven. Any of
our readers who have perused the Talmud will remember a similar legend,
which is doubtless the origin of the above-mentioned story.
This being a sample, and a very mild one, of the religion of the
Abyssinians, we may easily imagine what must be their superstitions.
These are of the genuine African cast, and have survived with
undiminished strength in spite of the system of Christianity which has
so long existed in Abyssinia.
The people fully believe in the power of transformation. There is a
sort of demon, called Bouda, who possesses this power, and is supposed
to be the special demon of blacksmiths. Now in Abyssinia the trade of
blacksmith is hereditary, and is considered a disgraceful one, all
smiths being looked upon as sorcerers. This idea has evidently taken
its rise from times of great antiquity, when the power of smelting,
forging, and welding iron was thought to be too wonderful to be
possessed by ordinary human beings.
Mr. Parkyns narrates several instances of this belief in
transformation. He knew, for example, of two little girls who had
been in the forest to gather wood, and came back in a great fright.
They had met a blacksmith, and had begun to jeer at him for a wizard,
asking him as a proof of his power to turn himself into a hyæna. The
man took them at their word, untied a corner of his robe, took out some
ashes, and sprinkled them over his shoulders. Immediately his head
changed into that of a hyæna, hair spread itself over his body, and,
before they could recover from the terror which paralyzed them, the now
complete hyæna grinned and laughed at them, and then trotted into the
neighboring bush.
Another story curiously resembles some of the transformation tales of
the Arabian Nights. Two Bouda brothers used to make a good living by
their powers of transformation. One of them would change himself into
a horse, mule, or some other valuable animal, and was then sold by his
brother. In the middle of the night the transformed man resumed his
human shape, and walked home to join his brother. This went on for
some time, but at last no one would buy from them, as they kept no
stock. No one knew where they obtained the animals which they sold,
and, moreover, no one liked to buy animals which had a knack of always
escaping before twenty-four hours. At last one man determined to solve
the mystery. One of the Bouda brothers offered for sale a peculiarly
handsome horse. The man bought it, and as soon as he got the animal
out of the town, he drove his lance through its heart, and killed it on
the spot.
He then threw himself in the way of the seller, and uttered loud
lamentations over his hasty temper, which had caused him to kill so
splendid an animal. The Bouda contrived to hide his emotion until
he reached his home, and then began the usual lamentations for the
dead, rubbing the skin off his temples and wailing loudly. On being
questioned, he said that he was mourning the death of his brother,
who had been robbed and murdered by the Gallas, from whom he had been
buying horses for sale.
It seems also that the Boudas can transform other persons into animals,
even without their consent. A woman had died, and, immediately after
the funeral, a blacksmith came to the priest in charge of the cemetery,
and bribed him to give up the newly-buried corpse. This was done,
and the neighbors all remarked that the blacksmith had purchased
a remarkably fine donkey, on which he always rode. There was this
peculiarity about the animal, that it always wanted to run into the
house where the dead woman had lived, and whenever it met any of the
young people brayed loudly, and ran toward them.
The eldest son being a very intelligent young man, suddenly declared
that the animal in question must be his mother, and insisted on
bringing the ass and its rider into the hut. Here the animal seemed
quite at home: and the smith was charged with being a Bouda, and with
changing the body of the woman into an ass. At first he repudiated
the assertion, but at last, by dint of mingled threats and promises,
he confessed that he had indeed wrought the change. The woman was not
dead, but was only in a trance into which he had thrown her, and could
be restored to her own form again. Being promised forgiveness, he began
his incantations, when the ass gradually threw off the furry coat and
assumed the human form. The transformation was nearly complete, when
one of the sons, in a sudden access of fury, drove his spear through
the blacksmith and stopped the transformation, so that ever afterward
the woman had one human foot and one ass’s hoof. Many persons told Mr.
Parkyns that they had actually seen the hoof in question.
The Bouda exhibits his power in various modes, one of which is a
kind of possession, in which the afflicted person is, as it were,
semi-demoniacal, and performs feats which are utterly impossible to
the human body in the normal condition. Men and women are alike seized
with the Bouda madness, although the females are naturally more liable
to its attacks than the men, generally accounting for the fact by
stating that they have rejected the love of some Bouda or other. The
chief object of the Bouda seems to be to lay a spell on the afflicted
persons which will cause them to come at his call. Consequently, he
assumes the shape of the hyæna, calls the victims at night, and, if
they are not bound and carefully watched, they are forced to go to the
hyæna, and are then devoured.
A remarkable example of this Bouda illness was watched by Mr. Parkyns
with the greatest care. The afflicted person was a servant woman of
Rohabaita. The complaint began by languor and headache, and then
changed into an ordinary fit of hysterics, together with great pain.
“It was at this stage that the other servants began to suspect that
she was under the influence of the Bouda. In a short time she became
quiet, and by degrees sank into a state of lethargy, approaching to
insensibility. Either from excellent acting and great fortitude, or
from real want of feeling, the various experiments which were made
on her seemed to have no more effect than they would have had on a
mesmeric somnambulist. We pinched her repeatedly; but, pinch as hard as
we could, she never moved a muscle of her face, nor did she otherwise
express the least sensation. I held a bottle of strong sal-volatile
under her nose, and stopped her mouth; and this having no effect, I
steeped some rag in it, and placed it in her nostrils; but, although I
would wager any amount that she had never either seen, smelt, or heard
of such a preparation as liquid ammonia, it had no more effect on her
than rosewater.
“She held her thumbs tightly inside her hands, as if to prevent their
being seen. On my observing this to a bystander, he told me that the
thumbs were the Bouda’s particular perquisite, and that he would allow
no person to take them. Consequently, several persons tried to open
her hands and get at them; but she resisted with what appeared to me
wonderful strength for a girl, and bit their fingers till in more than
one instance she drew blood. I, among others, made the attempt, and,
though I got a bite or two for my pains, yet either the devil had great
respect for me as an Englishman and a good Christian, or she had for
me as her master, for the biting was all a sham, and struck me as more
like kissing than anything else, compared with the fearful wounds she
had indicted on the rest of the party.
“I had a string of ornamental amulets which I usually wore, having on
it many charms for various maladies; but I was perfectly aware that
none for the Bouda was among them. Still, hoping thereby to expose the
cheat, I asserted that there was a very celebrated one, and laid the
whole string on her face, expecting that she would pretend to feel the
effects, and act accordingly; but, to my surprise and disappointment,
she remained quite motionless. Several persons had been round the
village to look for some talisman, but only one was found. On its being
applied to her mouth she for an instant sprang up, bit at it, and tore
it, but then laughed, and said it was weak, and would not vex _him_.
“I here use the masculine gender, because, although the patient was
a woman, the Bouda is supposed to speak through her medium; and, of
whatever sex they be, the sufferers, or rather the spirits, when
speaking of themselves, invariably use that gender. I deluged her with
bucketfuls of water, but could not either elicit from her a start or a
pant, an effect usually produced by water suddenly dashed over a person.
“At night she could not sleep, but became more restless, and spoke
several times. She even remarked, in her natural tone of voice, that
she was not ill, nor attacked by the Bouda, but merely wished to return
to Adoun. She said this so naturally that I was completely taken off my
guard, and told her that of course she might go, but that she must wait
till the morrow. The other people smiled, and whispered to me that it
was only a device of the Bouda to get her out into the forest, and then
devour her.”
By one of those curious coincidences that sometimes occur, a hyæna,
who, according to the popular ideas was the transformed Bouda, was
heard hooting and laughing close to the village for the whole of the
night, that being the only time that Mr. Parkyns had known the animal
do so during the whole of his stay at Rohabaita. In consequence of
the presence of the animal, the young woman was tightly bound, and
sentinels were placed within and without the door of the hut. Whenever
the hyæna called, the woman moaned and started up, and once, after she
had been quiet for nearly an hour, and the inner sentinel had dropped
off to sleep, the hyæna came close to the hut, and the woman rose,
_without her bonds_, crept on all-fours to the door, and had partly
succeeded in opening it when one of the sentinels made a noise, and she
went back to her place. In this way she was kept under the strictest
watch for three days, during which time she would neither eat nor
drink, rejecting even a small piece of bread when she had swallowed it,
and on the third evening she mended and gradually recovered.
If this were imposture, as Mr. Parkyns remarks, it is difficult to
find a motive. She had scarcely any work to do, and the wonder is what
could make her voluntarily prefer three days confinement, with pinches,
cords, cold water, and other ill-treatment--not to mention that
severest of all punishments to an Abyssinian, total abstinence from
food and drink.
According to the people, this enchantment is caused by a Bouda, who
has learned the baptismal name of the affected person. This is always
concealed, and the Abyssinians are only known by a sort of nickname,
which is given by the mother as they leave the church. When, however,
a Bouda learns the baptismal name, he takes a straw, bends it into a
circle, mutters charms over it, and puts it under a stone. As the straw
is bent, the illness begins; and should it break, the victim dies.
Charms of certain kinds have a potent effect on the Bouda. On one
occasion a poor weakly girl was lying apparently senseless, on whom Mr.
Parkyns had uselessly tried, by the application of false charms, to
produce an effect. Suddenly the woman flew into violent convulsions,
screaming and struggling so that four strong men could scarcely hold
her. Just then an Amhara soldier entered the outer court, and she cried
out, “Let me alone and I will speak.” This man, it appeared, had heard
that a patient was ill of the Bouda, and had brought with him a charm
of known power.
After much threatening with the amulet, accompanied by fierce and
frantic rage on the part of the possessed, the Bouda promised to come
out if food were given him. It is remarkable by the way, that the Bouda
is always of the male sex, and, whether the possessed be a man or a
woman, always uses the masculine gender in language. The rest must be
told in Mr. Parkyns’ own words:--
“A basin was fetched, in which was put a quantity of any filth that
could be found (of fowls, dogs, &c.), and mixed up with a little
water and some ashes. I took the basin myself, and hid it where I was
positive that she could not see me place it, and covered it up with
some loose stones which were heaped in the corner. The Bouda was then
told that his supper was prepared, and the woman rose and walked down
the court on all-fours, smelling like a dog on either side, until,
passing into the yard where the basin was, she went straight up to it,
and, pulling it out from the place where it was hidden, devoured its
abominable contents with the utmost greediness. The Bouda was then
supposed to leave her, and she fell to the ground, as if fainting. From
this state she recovered her health in a few days.”
A somewhat similar sort of possession is called Tigritiya. In this case
the patient falls into a sort of wasting away, without apparent cause,
and at last sits for several days together without eating or speaking.
Music is the only means of curing a patient, who will then spring from
the couch on which he has lain, apparently without strength to sit
up, and will dance with the most violent contortions, keeping up the
exercise with a vigor and pertinacity that would tire the strongest
man in perfect health. This is a sign that the demon may be driven
out; and when the music ceases, the patient falls to the ground, and
then begins to speak (always in the person of the demon), demanding
all kinds of ornaments--sometimes, even if a poor woman, asking for
the velvet robes and silver-mounted weapons of a chief. These cannot
be obtained without much expense, but at last are procured, when the
dancing is resumed, and, after several accessions of the fit, the
patient takes off all the borrowed ornaments, and runs at full speed
until the demon suddenly departs, and the possessed person loses all
the fictitious strength that had animated him, and falls to the earth
in a swoon. The demon takes his leave, and is deterred from returning
by the firing of guns, and a guard with drawn swords that surrounds the
prostrate form of the moaning patient.
* * * * *
The architecture of the Abyssinians is simple, but characteristic.
Houses differ in form according to the means of their owner, those of
the commonalty being merely circular huts, while those of the wealthy
are square and flat-roofed.
A rich man’s house is rather a complicated piece of architecture. It
stands in an enclosure, like an Indian compound, and the principal
gateway is covered and flanked on either side by a porter’s lodge,
in which sleep the actual gate-keeper and other servants. Within the
enclosure are generally a few slight huts of straw, for the reception
of strangers or servants. About one-fourth of the compound is divided
by a wall, and contains the kitchen, store-houses, &c. At the end
opposite the gateway is the Adderash, or reception room, which is
square or oblong, and often of considerable size. The roof is flat; but
when the room is too large to be crossed by beams, only the angles are
roofed in the ordinary way, so as to leave an octagonal opening in the
centre. A wooden wall about four or five feet high is next built round
the opening, and there is then no difficulty in roofing it.
The Adderash is divided into three rooms, the largest of which is the
reception room. At the end is the stable, the horses and mules passing
into it through the reception room. The “medeb,” or bed-room (if it may
be so called), is merely a strip of the apartment, about eight feet
wide, separated by a partition wall; and if the owner of the house
should be a married man, the entrance of the medeb is closed by a
curtain. This apartment takes its name from the medeb, or divan, which
is simply a part of the floor raised a foot or so above the rest, about
five feet in width, and extending for the whole length of the room.
Opposite the medeb is a small alcove, in which is placed the couch
of the master of the house. This couch, or “arat,” is a stout wooden
framework, across which is stretched a network of raw hide thongs, an
inch or two in width. These contract when drying, and form a tolerably
elastic bed.
In warm weather the arat is placed out of doors, and is only covered
with a slight cloth roof. One of these outdoor beds may be seen in the
illustration No. 2, on page 662.
The door of the reception room is covered with grass, just as in the
olden times even palace floors were strewn with rushes. Whenever a
visitor enters, fresh grass is strewn to make a clean seat for him, but
no one thinks of removing that which already has become discolored.
Consequently, what with the continual washing of hands by pouring water
over them, the spilling of beer and mead, and the mud that clings to
the horses’ feet as they pass to and from their stable, the flooring of
the house becomes nothing more or less than a fermenting manure-heap.
At last, when even the Abyssinian nose can endure it no longer, the
room is cleared, and left empty for a day or two in order to rid it of
the intolerable odor which still clings to it.
Round the walls of the reception room are a number of cows’
horns by way of pegs, on which are hung the spears, shields,
horse-accoutrements, drinking-horns, and other property of the owner.
The store-houses contain huge earthenware jugs, the mouths of which
nearly reach the roof of the house, though their bases are sunk a yard
or so in the ground. The Abyssinians value these jars highly, inasmuch
as they are evidences of wealth.
* * * * *
As to the other two provinces, Shoa and Amhara, there is so little
difference between them and Tigré that there is no need to occupy space
with them. Practically they form one kingdom, just as England, Wales,
Scotland, and Ireland, and there is among them a very strong provincial
jealousy, analogous to that which still prevails among the uneducated
members of our own United Kingdom. Even Mr. Parkyns could not resist
the feeling, and was a strenuous admirer of Tigré, considering the
Amharas as ferocious and overbearing boors, and despising the Shoas
altogether.
The province of Shoa, however, is by no means a despicable one, as may
be seen from the following description of the great annual feast which
is given by the king or prince at Easter. This hospitable banquet is on
a truly royal scale, and is continued for a whole week, so that every
free man who can attend the capital may have an opportunity of taking
part in it.
The banqueting room is a very large and lofty chamber, having on one
side a curtained alcove, in which the prince sits. Fresh grass is daily
strewn on the floor, and round the room are set the tables, which are
low, circular pieces of wickerwork. It is only in such houses that the
tables are uniform in shape or size. Behind the tables and ranged
along the wall are the body guards of the prince, armed with shields
and a sword much resembling the old Roman weapon. Troops of servants
are in waiting, and before the banquet begins they bring in the bread
in piles, and place it on the tables. Sometimes as many as thirty
loaves will be placed for each guest, the finest bread being always at
the top and the coarsest below.
The object of this arrangement is to suit the different ranks of the
party. Those of highest rank come first, and eat the finest, using
the second-class bread as table-napkins. When they have finished, the
guests of the next rank come in, eat the second-class bread, and wipe
their fingers on the third-class bread, and so on until the whole is
consumed.
Round the room are hung rows of shields, lion skins, and mantles of
honor to be conferred by the prince on his subjects, while above them
is a wide carpet, on which are depicted lions, camels, horses, and
other animals.
All being ready, the guests assemble, and the prince takes his seat in
the alcove, where he gives audience. Professional musicians enliven
the scene with their instruments, and professional dancers aid their
efforts. In the mean time, the guests are eating as fast as they can,
the servants carrying meat from one guest to the other, and making
up neat little sausages of meat, bread, and pepper, which they put
adroitly into the mouths of the guests. As in more civilized lands, it
is always better to propitiate the servants, because they can give the
best parts of the meat to those whom they like, and reserve the gristle
and toughest parts for those who displease them.
The politer guests, having by means of two or three pounds of meat, a
pile of bread, and a gallon or so of mead, taken the edge off their
own appetites, make up similarly seasoned balls, and put them into
their neighbors’ mouths. This is done with such rapidity that a man
who happens to have made himself agreeable to his right and left hand
neighbors is nearly choked by the haste with which etiquette requires
that he shall despatch the highly-spiced morsels.
After this preliminary portion of the feast, in which cooked mutton is
mostly employed, acting as a provocative to the real banquet which is
to follow, the servants bring in raw meat still warm with life, and cut
from a cow that has been slaughtered at the door while the mutton and
bread has been consumed.
The giver of the feast sits in his alcove, and below him are the armed
guards. The guests sit at wickerwork tables, using their curved swords
with the national adroitness, and servants wait on the guests carrying
great pieces of raw beef about. The liquids, by the way, are drunk
from horns, which are always served by women. In the centre are the
musicians, playing the curious fiddle and harp of Shoa, and a little
further on are the dancers.
* * * * *
As to the other tribes which are either in or about Abyssinia, a very
few words must suffice for them.
There is one curious and very wild tribe, known by the name of BAREA.
They are inborn marauders, executing their raids with marvellous
rapidity and skill. So clever are they at concealing themselves, that
even on an open plain, where there is not the least cover, they manage
to dispose of themselves in such a way as to deceive an eye unpractised
in their arts.
Once Mr. Parkyns was passing through a district over which one of the
bush fires had swept, when he was astonished by the exclamation of his
guide, that Barea were in sight, pointing at the same time to a dead
tree, standing on an eminence at a distance of several hundred yards,
and charred black by last year’s fires. “All I saw was a charred stump
of a tree, and a few blackened logs or stones lying at its foot. The
hunter declared that neither the tree nor the stones were there the
last time that he passed, and that they were simply naked Barea, who
had placed themselves in that position to observe us, having no doubt
seen us for some time, and prepared themselves.
“I could scarcely believe it possible that they should remain so
motionless, and determined to explore a little. The rest of the party
advised me to continue quietly in the road, as it was possible that,
from our presenting a rather formidable appearance, we should pass
unmolested; but, so confident was I of his mistake, that, telling the
rest to go on slowly as if nothing had happened, I dropped into the
long grass and stalked toward them. A shot from my rifle, at a long
distance (I did not venture too close), acted on the tree and stones as
promptly as the fiddle of Orpheus, but with the contrary effect, for
the tree disappeared, and the stones and logs, instead of running after
me, ran in the opposite direction.
“I was never more surprised in my life, for so complete was the
deception, that even up to the time I fired I could have declared the
objects before me were vegetable or mineral--anything but animal. The
fact was that the cunning rascals who represented stones were lying
flat, with their little round shields placed before them as screens.”
[Illustration: (1.) BUFFALO DANCE. (See page 671.)]
[Illustration: (2.) BEDOUIN CAMP. (See page 682.)]
Some of the wild tribes of India act in the same manner. There is a
well-known story of an officer on the march, who was so completely
deceived that he stood close by one of these metamorphosed men for
some time, and at last hung his helmet on a projecting bough. This
was nothing more than a leg of the dark savage, who was standing on
his head, with his limbs fantastically disposed to represent the
branches of an old tree-stump, the illusion being heightened by the
spear-shafts, which did duty for the smaller branches. This mark of
confidence was too much for the gravity of the savage, who burst into
a shriek of laughter, turned head-over-heels, and disappeared into the
jungle, the helmet still attached to his leg.
These clever and withal amusing marauders are very thorns in the side
of the Abyssinians, who never know when the Barea may not be upon them.
In many respects they resemble the warlike tribes of the Red Indians,
though they are certainly superior to them in size and strength. They
will follow a travelling party for days, giving not an indication of
their presence, and speaking to one another wholly by signs, of which
they have an extensive vocabulary. But they will never show themselves
until the time comes for striking the long-meditated blow, when they
will make their attack, and then vanish as mysteriously as they had
come. On one occasion nearly two hundred Barea came overnight to the
outskirts of a village, and there lay in wait. In the early morning,
two of the principal men of the village, one a man who was celebrated
for his majestic and somewhat pompous demeanor, took a walk toward
their cotton-fields, and found themselves in the midst of the Barea,
who captured them, and carried them off to be sold as slaves to the
Arabs, who would probably sell them again to the Turks.
When the Barea encamp round a village, they keep themselves warm for
the night by the ingenious plan of each man digging a hole in the
ground, making a small fire in it, and squatting over it enveloped in
his cloth, so as to retain the heat and to prevent the fire from being
seen.
THE GALLAS.
Surrounding a very considerable portion of Abyssinia proper are various
tribes of the fierce and warlike GALLAS.
The Galla men are a fine and even handsome race, extremely variable in
the hue of their skin, as may be supposed from the very large extent
of ground which is inhabited by their tribes. Moreover, they have
mixed considerably with the Abyssinians proper, and are often employed
as slaves by them. Female Galla slaves are frequently kept in the
households of Abyssinians, and the consequence is, that a mixed progeny
has sprung up which partakes of the characteristics of both parents.
This has taken place considerably in Shoa, where the Galla element is
very conspicuous among the population. As a rule, however, they are
much darker than the Abyssinians, a circumstance which has induced Mr.
Johnstone to derive their name from the word “calla,” or black. Their
language is a dialect of the Amhara tongue, but varied, like their
skins, according to the precise locality of the tribe.
The features of the Gallas have none of the negro characteristics,
such as the length of the skull, the contracted (though not receding)
forehead, and the full development of the lips and jaws. The hair
resembles that of the Abyssinians, and is dressed in various modes.
Sometimes it is formed into long, narrow plaits, hanging nearly
to the shoulders, and in others it is frizzed out into tufts. The
most singular way of dressing the hair is to collect it into three
divisions, one occupying the top of the head, and one crossing each
temple. The divided tresses being then combed and frizzed to the
greatest possible extent, the whole head has a most comical aspect, and
has been likened to the ace of clubs.
The young women are bold and handsome, but are anything but
good-looking when they grow old. Three old women who visited Mr.
Johnstone, and evidently acted as spies, were remarkable for their
ugliness. They wore the hair in the usual multitudinous plaits, which
they had connected by means of threads, so as to form them into a
continuous curtain, and had been exceedingly lavish of butter. They
wore a sort of soft leather petticoat, and had on their feet a simple
sandal of ox-hide, fastened to the foot by a lap passing over the
great toe, and a thong over the instep. They came ostensibly to sell
tobacco and ropes. The latter articles they made even while they were
bargaining, a bundle of hemp being fastened to their girdles in front,
and the ropes, as fast as they were twisted, being coiled round their
waists.
The Gallas are a warlike race, and far more courageous than the
Abyssinians, who are more given to vaporing than fighting. When they
return home after a victory they celebrate a curious and violent dance,
called the Buffalo Dance. A head and the attached skin of a buffalo is
laid on the ground, and the men assemble round it armed as if for war,
with their spears and crooked swords. They then dance vigorously round
the buffalo skin, leaping high in the air, striking with their swords,
and thrusting with their spears, and going through all the manœuvres of
killing the animal. The women take an active part in the dance. It is
illustrated in the engraving No. 1, on the preceding page.
THE DANKALLI AND SOMAULI.
Then there are the Dankalli and Somauli tribes, each of them subdivided
into a number of smaller tribes, and having some traits peculiar to
themselves, and others common to the Abyssinians proper. Indeed, Mr.
Johnstone remarks that he has no doubt that, although they are now
distinct nations, they are derived from a common origin.
The Somaulis are a warlike people, and, instead of the spears and
shields which are almost the universal weapons through this part of
Africa, they carry light bows and large quivers, which hang under
the left arm by a broad strap passed over the same shoulder. The
bow, though light, is very strong, and is much after the classical
or Cupid’s bow form. In consequence of this shape, when the arrow is
discharged, the string comes quickly against the handle, and if the
archer be inexpert his thumb gets a violent blow.
The quiver is made of an emptied gourd, the mouth of which is closed
with a cover like that which is represented on several of the African
quivers mentioned in this work. It contains about a dozen arrows, about
a foot in length, and made of a hollow reed. Each is armed with a head
of blue steel, shaped something like the ace of spades, and having its
neck lengthened into a spike about an inch and a half long; this is
not attached to the arrow, but is loose, and when wanted for use the
spike is simply slipped into the unfeathered end of the hollow shaft.
Of course, when the weapon strikes its object, the shaft falls off,
and the head, which is poisoned, remains in the wound, and soon causes
death.
Instead of the sword, they carry a knife with a blade about eight
inches in length, the handle being merely a piece of wood rounded, and
slightly hollowed to give a firmer grasp.
The dress of the men consists of a “fotah,” or waist cloth, and a robe
called the “sarree.” Differing in use, these cloths are of exactly the
same shape and size, _i. e._ about eleven feet in length. The fotah
is wound twice round the waist, the end being tucked in behind, and
the whole garment made secure by the broad belt which holds the knife.
The sarree is worn in robe fashion, round the body, and a man of taste
disposes it so as to show off the two broad stripes of blue or scarlet
at the end.
The women also wear the fotah, over which, when out of doors, they
wear a long blue skirt without sleeves, and very open down the front.
This is laid aside in the house, where nothing but the fotah is worn.
The mode of dressing the hair into a continuous veil has been already
mentioned, and Mr. Johnstone was fortunate enough to witness the
process of dressing “this entangled mass, which reminded me of the hair
of Samson, interwoven with the web of the loom. The lady whose hair was
to be operated upon sat upon a stone in the court beneath one of our
windows, and behind her, on her knees, was a stout slave-girl, who held
in both hands a long-handled wooden fork-like comb, having four very
strong prongs, which she dragged through the woolly, greasy, and black
hair of her mistress, with the force of a groom currying a horse’s
tail.”
The particular sub-tribe to which the people belong is denoted by
sundry incised marks, which are cut with a fragment of obsidian, and
are formed into patterns which sometimes extend over the whole back and
breast.