MUSGU.

Nearly, if not quite equal to the Begharmis in stature and strength are the Musgu tribe, which inhabit a district of Mandara. In consequence of their fine proportions, Musgu slaves are greatly valued by the surrounding nations, and are employed in various ways. The sultans and great chiefs are fond of having their male Musgu slaves as wrestlers; and next in interest to a match between two Begharmis is a contest between a Begharmi and a Musgu wrestler.

The female slaves are proportionately strong, but they are never purchased by the Fezzan traders, because they lack beauty of feature as much as they possess strength of muscle. Their faces are large and ugly, and they have a custom of wearing a silver ornament in the lower lip. This ornament is about as large as a shilling, and is worn exactly after the fashion of the “pelele,” which has already been described and figured. In order to make room for this ugly appendage, the women knock out the two middle teeth of the lower jaw, and, in process of time, the lip is dragged down by the inserted metal, and has a very horrid and repulsive appearance. Their hair is dressed like that of the Bornu women, i. e. one large plait or roll from the forehead to the nape of the neck, and two others on each side.

They are very trustworthy, and are set to laborious tasks, from which weaker slaves would shrink. They do all the agricultural work,—digging the ground, planting the seed, and carrying home the crops. They also perform the office of watchers, by night as well as by day, and there is scarcely a year passes that one or two of these patient creatures are not carried off by the lions, who creep up to them under shelter of the corn, and then spring upon them.

The men are equally ugly. Only the chiefs wear any clothing, and even they are seldom clad in anything more than a goat-skin or leopard’s hide, hung over the shoulders so as to bring the head of the animal on the wearer’s breast. Their heads are covered with rather strange-looking caps, and their hair, as it straggles from under the caps, is thick and bristly. They wear on their arms large rings of bone or ivory, and round their necks hang trophies of their valor, being necklaces made of the strung teeth of slain enemies. They paint their bodies with red, and stain their teeth of the same color, so that they present a singularly wild and savage appearance. They are mounted on small but strong and active horses, which they ride without saddles and almost without bridles, a slight piece of cord being tied halter-wise round the animal’s muzzle.

Their weapons consist mostly of the spear and the missile knives, similar to those which have been already described. The inferior men, though they are mounted, and carry the same weapons as the chief, wear no clothing except a leather girdle round the waist, and the same light attire is worn by the women. Though so liable to be enslaved themselves, they are great slave-dealers; and when they pay tribute to the sultan of Mandara, or wish to make a peace-offering, the greater part of it consists of slaves, both male and female.

In [illustration No. 2], page 638, is seen a Musgu chief going to battle. He is one of the very great chiefs, as is shown from the fact that he wears a tobe instead of a skin. In his right hand is a spear, and in his left a couple of the missile knives. Behind him ride his soldiers, naked men on naked horses. In the background is seen a party of women engaged in the water, with which element they are very familiar, and are not kept out of it by any fear of wetting their clothes. Near them is one of the mound-like tombs under which a dead chief has been buried—the Musguese being almost the only African tribe who erect such a monument.

The huts are seen a little farther back, and near them are two of the remarkable granaries, covered with projecting ornaments, and mostly kept so well filled that marauders are nearly as anxious to sack the granaries as to steal the people. On the branches of the trees is a quantity of grass which has been hung there to dry in the sun, and to be used as hay for the horses.

When Major Denham was near the Musgu territory, he was told that these strange and wild-looking people were Christians. He said that they could not be so, because they had just begged of him the carcass of a horse which had died during the night, and were at that time busily employed in eating it. The man, however, adhered to his opinion, saying that, although he certainly never had heard that Christians ate horse-flesh, they did eat swine’s-flesh, and that was infinitely more disgusting.

Those people were unwittingly the cause of great loss to the Bornuese and Mandaras. The Arabs who had accompanied Denham and Clapperton from Tripoli were very anxious, before returning home, to make a raid on their own account, and bring back a number of Musgu slaves. The sheikh of Bornu thought that this would be a good opportunity of utilizing the fire-arms of the Arabs against the warlike and unyielding Fellatahs, and sent them off together with three thousand of his own troops.

As had been anticipated, when they reached Mandara, the sultan would not allow them to attack Musgu, which he looked upon as his own particular slave-preserve, but added some of his own troops to those of the Bornuan sheikh, and sent them to capture as many Fellatahs as they liked, doing them the honor of accompanying the expedition in person. It is also evident that both the sultan and the sheikh disliked as well as feared the Arabs, and were very willing to turn to account the terrible weapons which they carried, and by means of which they had made themselves so overbearing and disagreeable.

When they reached the first Fellatah town and attacked it, they found it to be strongly defended with chevaux de frise of sharpened stakes six feet in height, behind which were stationed their archers, who poured showers of poisoned arrows on the invaders. The Arabs, after a struggle, carried the fence and pursued the Fellatahs up the hill. Here they were received with more arrows, brought to the archers by the women, and with stones rolled down the hill. Had the Bornu and Mandara soldiers pushed forward, the whole town must have been taken, instead of which they prudently kept out of range of the poisoned arrows. The Fellatahs, seeing their cowardice, then assumed the offensive, whereupon the Bornu and Mandara soldiers at once ran away, headed by the sultan, who would have laid claim to the town had the Arabs taken it. The whole force was routed with great loss, the Bornu leader—a truly brave man—was killed with a poisoned arrow, and Major Denham was severely wounded, stripped of all his clothes, and barely escaped with his life.

CHAPTER LXIV.
ABYSSINIA.

ABYSSINIA, THE LAND OF MYSTERY — ORIGIN OF THE NAME — THE KINGDOM OF PRESTER JOHN — THE THREE ABYSSINIAN DISTRICTS OR KINGDOMS — GENERAL APPEARANCE OF THE ABYSSINIANS — DRESS OF THE MEN — THE QUARRY AND THE TROUSERS — GOING TO BED — THE DINO AND ITS FASHIONS — MEN’S ORNAMENTS — HOW THE JEWELLER IS PAID — WEAPONS OF THE ABYSSINIANS — THE SWORD OR SHOTEL, AND ITS SINGULAR FORM AND USES — THE SPEAR AND MODE OF KEEPING IT IN ORDER — THE SHIELD AND ITS ORNAMENTS — APPEARANCE OF A MOUNTED CHIEF — SWORDSMANSHIP — THE ABYSSINIAN AS A SOLDIER — DRESS AND APPEARANCE OF THE WOMEN — THEIR ORNAMENTS — TATTOOING — MODES OF DRESSING THE HAIR — THE ABYSSINIAN PILLOW.

Abyssinia is one of the most wonderful nations on the face of the earth. It was long a land of mystery, in which the unicorn and the lion held their deadly combats, in which dragons flapped their scaly wings through the air, in which the mountains were of gold and the river-beds paved with diamonds, and, greatest marvel of all, in which Prester John, the priest and king, held his court, a Christian Solomon of the Middle Ages.

In this last tale there was this amount of truth, that a Christian Church existed in Abyssinia—a Church of extreme antiquity, which has remained to the present day, having accommodated itself in a most remarkable manner to the race-characteristics of the people. Setting aside the interest which has been excited in Abyssinia by the successful march of a British force to the military capital, Abyssinia deserves description in this volume. At first sight it would appear that a Christian country would find no place in a work which has nothing to do with civilization; but, as we proceed with the account, we shall find that Christianity in Abyssinia has done scarcely anything to civilize the nation, as we understand the word, and, instead of extirpating the savage customs of the people, has in a strange manner existed alongside of them, if such a term may be used.

It is my purpose in the following pages to give a succinct description of the uncivilized manners and customs of the Abyssinians, together with a brief account of that peculiar system of Christianity which could survive for nearly fifteen hundred years, and yet leave the people in a scarcely better moral state than if they had never heard the name of Christ.

Like many other large communities, the great Abyssinian nation is composed of several elements, differing as much from each other as the Scotch, the Irish, the Welsh, and the other mixed races who together form the English nation. In Abyssinia, however, these different elements have not fused themselves so much together as is the case with this kingdom, and each principality is independent, having its own ruler and its own laws.

That such a state of things is injurious to the interests of the kingdom is evident to all students of history, and we find that every great ruler has attempted to unite them under one head. The peculiar character of the Africans is, however, strong in these people; and as soon as the strong hand that held them together is removed, they fly asunder, and resume their individuality. To the Abyssinian kingdom may be well applied the familiar epigram of a “concurrence of antagonistic atoms.”

Their native name, “Hàbash,” of which our word Abyssinia is a corruption, signifies “mixture,” and is exceedingly appropriate to them. Among the many mixtures which compose the Abyssinian nation, the natives reckon a considerable Jewish element. They say that the Sheba of Scripture was Abyssinia, and that their queen went to visit Solomon for the express purpose of introducing the blood of so eminent a sovereign into the royal succession of Abyssinia. She waited till she had borne a son, and through that son the successive kings of Abyssinia believe themselves to be lineal descendants of Solomon. Whether this story be true or not, it is thoroughly in consonance with the very lax morality of Abyssinian females. When the queen returned to her own country, she was followed by a number of Jews, and they say that at the time of the destruction of the Temple, and the captivity, a great multitude of fugitives followed their compatriots, and took refuge in Abyssinia.

Numbers of Greeks and Portuguese have at different times taken up their residence in Abyssinia, and, like the immigrant Jews, been absorbed into the country, so that the native name of Hàbash is seen to be well deserved.

Three of the districts or sub-kingdoms have the best claim to the title of Abyssinia, and are inhabited by Christians of that peculiar kind to which allusion has just been made. The first is the Tigré (pronounced Teegray) country, which takes its name as a province from a small district to which this name belongs. It extends to the Red Sea on the east, and to the Taccazy River on the west, and has a rather uncertain range between lat. 15° and 12° N. It is divided from Nubia by a number of independent tribes, while some of the Gallas and other tribes are on its northern boundary.

Westward of the Taccazy lies the second kingdom or province, called Amhara, in the middle of which is situated the city of Gondar; and the third is Shooa, which lies southward of Tigré and Amhara, and, strangely enough, is separated from them by Gallas and other tribes.

Of these three districts, Tigré seems to afford the best characteristic of the Abyssinians, and therefore the chief part of the account will be devoted to the Tigréans. Among these people Mr. Mansfield Parkyns lived for a considerable time, and to him we are indebted for the greater part of our information concerning this remarkable nation.

As a rule, the Abyssinians are of moderate stature, rather below than above the English average. Mr. Parkyns saw one or two men who attained the height of six feet two inches, but remarks that such examples were very rare.

As is often the case with Africans, the complexion is exceedingly variable, sometimes being of a very pale coppery brown, and sometimes almost as dark as the negro. This variation, which is often the effect of locality, is attributed by Mr. Parkyns to the mixture of races. As, moreover, marriages are of the loosest description in Abyssinia, Christian though it be, a man may be often seen with a number of children by different wives, all unlike each other in point of complexion; a brother and sister, for example, being totally dissimilar, one short and black as a negro, and the other tall and fair as an European.

The negro element seems to expend itself chiefly in color, the peculiarity of the negro form having been nearly obliterated by continual mixture with other races. Now and then the negro conformation of leg shows itself, but even this evidence is rather uncommon.

The women of the higher class are remarkable for their beauty, not only of feature but of form, and possess singularly small and pretty hands and feet, all of which beauties their style of dress exhibits freely. Their features are almost of the European type, and the eyes are exceedingly large and beautiful—so large, indeed, that an exact drawing would have the appearance of exaggeration to persons who are unaccustomed to them. It is said, indeed, that the only women who can be compared with the Abyssinians are the French half-caste of the Mauritius. The [engraving No. 2] on the next page will give a good idea of the features and general appearance of the Abyssinians.

Beginning at the top, we have first a profile view of a woman’s head, to show the elaborate way in which the hair is plaited and arranged. Next comes a front view of a head, showing the appearance of the hair as it is teased and combed out before plaiting. The third figure gives a view of the head and bust of a lady of rank. This is drawn to show another mode of arranging the hair, as well as the elaborate tattoo with which the women love to decorate every inch of the body and limbs from the neck to the tips of the fingers and toes.

Below are the portraits of two men. One, a priest, has covered his shaven head with a white turban, the mark of the priesthood among the Abyssinians, among whom the laity wear no head covering save their highly-decorated and well-greased locks. The second portrait is the profile view of a man, and gives a good idea of the cast of countenance. The reader may scarcely believe that the Abyssinians have been cited by a certain school of philanthropists as examples of the intellectual capability of the negro.

Next to the personal appearance of the Abyssinians comes their dress. Varying slightly in different parts of the country, and changing in some of its details according to the fashion of the day, the dress of the Abyssinians is essentially the same throughout the kingdom. The principal articles of dress are trousers, and a large mantle or “quarry.”

(1.) DINNER PARTY.
(See [page 656].)

(2.) ABYSSINIAN HEADS.
(See [page 642].)

The trousers are of soft cotton, and of two kinds, the one descending some three inches below the knee, and the other terminating the same distance above it. The trousers are very tight, and an Abyssinian dandy will wear them of so very close a fit that to get them on is nearly an hour’s work.

Round the waist is rolled the sash or belt, about one yard in width. This is also of cotton, and varies in length according to the fineness of the material. A common belt will be about fifteen yards in length, but a very fine one, which only contains the same amount of material, will be from fifty to sixty yards long. From thirty to forty yards is the ordinary length for an Abyssinian gentleman’s belt. It is put on by holding the end with one hand to the side, and getting a friend to spread it with his hands, while the wearer turns round and round, and so winds himself up in the belt, just as our officers did when the long silk sashes were worn round the waist.

These belts are not only useful in preserving health, but act as defensive armor in a country where all the men are armed, and where they are apt to quarrel terribly as soon as they are excited by drink. Even in war time, the belt often protects the wearer from a blow which he has only partially guarded with his shield.

Like the trousers and belt, the mantle or “quarry” is made of cotton, and is very fine and soft. It is made in a rather curious manner. The ordinary quarry consists of three pieces of cotton cloth, each fifteen feet long by three wide, and having at each end a red stripe, some five or six inches in width. These are put together after a rather curious and complicated manner. “One is first taken and doubled carefully, so that the red stripes of each end come exactly together. A second piece is then taken, and also folded, but inside out, and one half of it laid under and the other half over the first piece, so that the four red borders now come together. One edge of this quadruple cloth is then sewed from top to bottom, and the last-mentioned piece is turned back, so that the two together form one double cloth of two breadths. The third piece is now added in a similar manner, the whole forming a ‘quarry’ which, lest any reader should have got confused with the above description, is a white double cloth, with a red border near the bottom only.” A completed quarry is seven feet six inches long, by nine feet wide. The quarries are seldom washed more than once a year, and, in consequence of the abundant grease used in the Abyssinian toilet, they become horribly dirty. The natives, however, rather admire this appearance. An Abyssinian dandy despises a clean quarry, and would no more wash his mantle than a fashionable lady would bleach a piece of old lace.

There are different qualities of quarry, the best being made of materials so fine that six pieces are required, and it is folded four times double. The colored stripe at the edge is of red, yellow, and blue silk, neatly worked together. It is worn in various modes, the most usual resembling that in which a Highlander wears his plaid, so as to leave the right arm at liberty.

The quarry forms the sleeping costume of the Abyssinians, who take off their trousers, and roll themselves up so completely in their mantles that they cover up their entire bodies, limbs, and heads. When they arrange themselves for the night, they contrive to remove their trousers, and even their belts, without exposing themselves in the least: and when we remember the extreme tightness of the former article of dress, and the inordinate length of the latter, it is a matter of some surprise that the feat should be accomplished so cleverly.

Married persons pack themselves up in a similar manner, but in pairs, their mantles forming a covering for the two. It is very curious to see how they manage to perform this seemingly impossible task. They seat themselves side by side, the man on the woman’s right hand, and place the short end of the quarry under them. The long end is then thrown over their heads, and under its shelter the garments are removed. The quarry is rolled tightly round the couple, and they are ready for repose.

So large a mantle is, of course, inconvenient on a windy day, and in battle would be a fatal encumbrance. On the former occasion it is confined to the body by a short, cape-like garment called the “dino” or “lemd,” and in war the quarry is laid aside, and the dino substituted for it. The dino is often a very elaborate garment, made of cloth, velvet, or, more frequently, the skin of some animal, cut in a peculiar manner so as to leave eight strips pendent from the lower edge by way of a fringe.

The skins of the lion and black leopard are most esteemed, and are only worn on gala days by chiefs and very great warriors. They are lined with scarlet cloth, and are fitted with a number of amulets which appear in front of the breast. A dino made of the black-maned lion skin will often be valued at eight or ten pounds, while a common one will scarcely cost one-tenth of that amount. A very favorite skin is that of the unborn calf, which takes a soft lustre like that of velvet, and accordingly can only be worn by dandies who are rich enough to purchase it, or kill a cow for the sake of this skin. An ordinary calf-skin is contemned, and would only be worn by a man of the lowest class. A peculiar kind of sheep is kept by the Abyssinians for the sake of its wool, which is sometimes more than two feet in length.

The sheep lead a very artificial life, are kept day and night on couches, are fed with meat and milk, and their fleeces washed and combed regularly as if they were ladies’ lap-dogs. The result of this treatment is, that they have beautiful fleeces, which are worth from twenty to thirty shillings each, but their flesh is utterly useless for consumption, being very small in quantity, and offensive in quality. The fleeces are generally dyed black, that being a fashionable color in Abyssinia.

The skin of the hyæna or the dog is never used for clothing, and the natives have a superstitious fear of the red jackal, thinking that if they should be wounded while wearing a dino of jackal skin, one of the hairs might enter the wound, and so prove fatal to the sufferer. The leopard skin is never worn by ordinary Abyssinians, being exclusively used by the Gallas and Shooas, and by a certain set of dervishes called the Zacchâri.

Contrary to the habit of most African nations, the men wear but few ornaments, those which they employ being almost always signs of valor. Amulets are found on almost every man, and many of them wear whole strings of these sacred articles, crossed over the shoulders and falling as low as the knees. Most Abyssinians carry a pair of tweezers for extracting thorns from the feet and legs, and the wealthier among them place their tweezers in a highly ornamented silver case, which is hung from the handle of the sword.

Whenever an Abyssinian is seen wearing a silver chain, he is known to have killed an elephant, while those who have distinguished themselves in battle are known by a sort of silver bracelet, which extends from the wrist nearly as far as the elbow. It opens longitudinally by hinges, and is fastened with a clasp. This ornament is called the “bitoa,” and is often very elegantly engraved, and adorned with gilded patterns. The silversmiths who make these and similar articles are rather oddly treated. They are considered as slaves, are not allowed to leave the country, and yet are treated with considerable kindness, save and except the payment for their labor.

Consequently, the silversmith, finding that he has to wait a very long time for his money, and probably will not get it at all, is forced to pay himself by embezzling a quantity of the gold and silver which are given him for the manufacture of the bracelet, and substituting an equal amount of less precious metal. Mr. Parkyns mentions that he has known a man to receive silver equal to thirty sequins, and to use in the work rather less than eight. Many of these bracelets are ornamented with little bell-like pieces of silver round the edge, which tinkle and clash as the wearer moves. Similar bells are attached to a sort of silver coronet worn by very great men, and, together with the silver chains to which they are attached, hang over the ears and neck of the wearer.

As to the weapons of the Abyssinians, they consist chiefly of the sword, spear, and shield. In later days fire-arms have been introduced, but, as this work treats only of the uncivilized part of mankind, these weapons will not be reckoned in the Abyssinian armory.

The sword, or “Shotel,” is a very oddly-shaped weapon. The blade is nearly straight for some two feet, and then turns suddenly like a sickle, but with a more angular bend. The edge is on the inside, and this peculiar form is intended for striking downward over the enemy’s shield. In order to give weight to the blow, the blade is much wider and heavier toward the point than at the hilt. As if this form of blade did not make the sword feeble enough, the hilt is so constructed that it prevents all play of the wrist. The handle is made of a pyramidal piece of rhinoceros horn, five inches wide at one end, and three at the other. It is made into the proper shape for a handle by cutting out semicircular pieces along the sides, leaving the four sharp corners in their previous form. When the sword is grasped, one of the four angles must come under the wrist, so that if the weapon were allowed to play freely, as in ordinary swordsmanship, the point would be driven into the wrist.

As with the natives of Southern Africa, the Abyssinians prefer soft iron to tempered steel, the former admitting of being straightened when bent, but the latter being apt to snap. The sword is always hung on the right side, in order to be out of the way of the shield, especially when, as in travelling, it is swung backward and forward with the play of the left arm.

The sheath of the sword is made of leather or red morocco, and is ornamented by the great men with a number of silver plates. At the end of the sheath is a metal ball, called “lomita.” This curious ornament is mostly of silver, and is almost as large as a billiard ball. The sword-belt is of the same material as the scabbard.

The spear is from six to seven feet in length, and the head is squared like that of a pike. The four sides are mostly grooved, so that the head of the weapon looks something like a quadrangular bayonet. This spear is used both as a lance and as a javelin, a good soldier being able to strike a man at thirty or forty yards’ distance. The cavalry always carry two spears, one of which is thrown, and the other retained to be used as a lance. They have rather a curious mode of using the lance, aiming it at the adversary as if they meant to throw it, but only letting the shaft slip through the hand, and catching it by the butt.

The shafts of the spears are very neatly made and much pains are bestowed upon them. They are made of very young trees, which are cleared of the bark by fire, and are then straightened and dried. This operation requires a very skilful manipulator, as, if the wood be too much dried, it is brittle and snaps; if irregularly heated, it never will remain straight; and if not dried sufficiently, it warps with every change of weather. When properly straightened, the shafts are greased and hung over the fire for several months, until they assume the proper reddish-yellow hue.

When not in use, each lance is kept in a sheath, to the top of which is fastened a loop by which it can be hung to the end of the cow’s horn which does duty for a peg in Abyssinian houses, and which is just long enough to allow the lance to hang straight without touching the wall.

The Abyssinian shield is made of buffalo hide, and is strong enough to resist any sword cut, and to throw off a spear if received obliquely upon it. If, however, a good spear should strike the shield fairly, it will pierce it. In order to preserve the needful obliquity, the shield is made like the segment of a sphere, and has a projecting boss in the centre. The shield is almost always ornamented, the most valued decorations being the mane, tail, and paw of a lion, arranged in various ways according to the taste of the owner. To some shields is attached the skin of the Guereza monkey, which, with its bold contrast of long jetty-black and snowy-white hair, has really a striking and artistic effect. This, however, is always discarded when the native kills a lion.

Chiefs always have their shields nearly covered with silver plates and bosses, a fashion which is imitated in brass by the poorer soldiers. Still, if a common soldier had a good shield, he would not hide its beauties with brass plates. A chief is distinguished not only by his silver-mounted shield, but by his silver-plated sword-scabbard. On his head he wears a silver frontlet, called “akodamir,” having silver chains hanging from it, and a white feather stuck in the hair behind the frontlet. If a man of notable courage, he also wears the lion-skin dino.

Round the edge of the shield are pierced a number of holes, through which is passed the thong that suspends it to the wall when not in use. Each day, as it hangs on the wall, the owner takes it down and shifts the thong from one hole to another, so that the shield may not be warped, and lose its prized roundness. The shield must swing quite clear of the wall.

To a good swordsman the shield would be an encumbrance, and not a means of safety. On account of the necessity of holding out the shield with the left arm, the sword becomes of little value as an offensive weapon, the owner not daring to strike lest he should expose himself to a counter blow. Whereas he who, like Fitz-James, finds his “blade both sword and shield,” makes very light of an Abyssinian warrior’s prowess. Mr. Parkyns says on this subject, that any ordinary swordsman, without a shield, can easily beat the best Abyssinian armed with sword and shield also. The best mode of fighting the Abyssinian warrior is to make a feint at his head. Up goes his heavy shield, which certainly guards his head, but prevents the owner from seeing that his adversary is making a sweeping cut at his legs. Should the cut 5 or 6 fail, make another feint at the head, and follow it up with a real blow. Anticipating a feint, the Abyssinian lowers his shield to protect his legs, and, as he does so, receives the edge of the sword full on his unprotected crown.

Although he is well armed, looks very fierce, and is of a quarrelsome disposition, the Abyssinian soldier is not remarkable for courage, and prefers boasting to fighting. He never seems to enter the battle with the idea of merely killing or routing the enemy, but is always looking out for trophies for himself. As with many nations, and as was the case with the Israelites in the earlier times, the Abyssinian mutilates a fallen enemy, and carries off a portion of his body as a trophy, which he can exhibit before his chief, and on which he can found a reputation for valor for the rest of his life.

So much do the Abyssinians prize this savage trophy that, just as American Indians have feigned death and submitted to the loss of their scalps without giving the least sign of life, men wounded in battle have suffered an even more cruel mutilation, and survived the injury. An Abyssinian has even been known to kill a comrade in order to secure this valued trophy, when he has been unable, either from mischance or want of courage, to kill an enemy.

We come now to the women and their dress.

Young girls are costumed in the simplest possible style, namely, a piece of cotton stuff wrapped round the waist, and descending half way to the knee. Should the girl be rich enough to afford a large wrapper, she brings one end of it upward and throws it over the left shoulder. In Tigré the girls prefer a black goatskin, ornamented with cowries. A married woman wears a sort of loose shirt, and a mantle, or quarry, similar to that which is worn by the men, but of finer materials. Should she be able to own a mule, she wears trousers, which are very full at the waist, and decrease gradually to the ankle, where they fit like the skin.

As to their ornaments, they are so numerous as to defy description. That which costs the least, and is yet the most valued, is the tattoo, which is employed with a profusion worthy of the New Zealander. “The Tigréan ladies,” so writes Mr. Parkyns, “tattoo themselves; though, as this mode of adorning the person is not common excepting among the inhabitants of the capital and persons who have passed some time there, I should judge it to be a fashion imported from the Amhara.

“The men seldom tattoo more than one ornament on the upper part of the arm, near the shoulder, while the women cover nearly the whole of their bodies with stars, lines, and crosses, often rather tastefully arranged. I may well say nearly the whole of their persons, for they mark the neck, shoulders, breasts, and arms, down to the fingers, which are enriched with lines, to imitate rings, nearly to the nails. The feet, ankles, and calves of the legs are similarly adorned, and even the gums are by some pricked entirely blue, while others have them striped alternately blue and the natural pink.

“To see some of their designs, one would give them credit for some skill in the handling their pencil; but, in fact, their system of drawing the pattern is purely mechanical. I had one arm adorned; a rather blind old woman was the artist; her implements consisted of a small pot of some sort of blacking, made, she told me, of charred herbs, a large homemade iron pin, about one-fourth of an inch at the end of which was ground fine, a bit or two of hollow cane, and a piece of straw. The two last-named items were her substitutes for pencils.

“Her circles were made by dipping the end of a piece of cane of the required size into the blacking, and making its impression on the skin; while an end of the straw, bent to the proper length, and likewise blackened, marked all the lines, squares, diamonds, &c., which were to be of equal length. Her design being thus completed, she worked away on it with her pin, which she dug in as far as the thin part would enter, keeping the supply of blacking sufficient, and going over the same ground repeatedly to insure regularity and unity in the lines. With some persons the first effect of this tattooing is to produce a considerable amount of fever, from the irritation caused by the punctures, especially so with the ladies, from the extent of surface thus rendered sore. To allay this irritation, they are generally obliged to remain for a few days in a case of vegetable matter, which is plastered all over them in the form of a sort of green poultice. A scab forms over the tattooing, which should not be picked off, but allowed to fall off of itself. When this disappears, the operation is complete, and the marks are indelible; nay, more, the Abyssinians declare that they may be traced on the person’s bones even after death has bared them of their fleshy covering.”

The women also wear a vast number of silver ornaments, such as several chains round the neck, three pairs of silver or gilt bracelets, a number of little silver ornaments hung like bells to the ankles, above which are a series of bangles of the same metal. A wealthy woman has also a large flat silver case, containing talismans, and ornamented with bells of the same metal, suspended by four silver chains; while her hair is decorated with a large silver pin, elaborately made, and furnished with a number of pendent ornaments.

The [illustration No. 1], 617th page, exhibits the costume of an Abyssinian lady, and the difference in dress between herself and her servants. The latter—who, of course, are her slaves, no other idea of servitude entering the Abyssinian mind—are washing clothes in a brook, in preparation for the Feast of St. John, the only day in the year when the Abyssinians trouble them- to wash either their clothes or themselves. Other slaves are carrying water-jars on their backs—not on their heads; and in the foreground stands their mistress giving her orders. The reader will note the graceful way in which the mantle is put on, and the string of leathern amulet cases which hangs by her side.

As to the hair itself, it is dressed in a peculiar manner. It is gathered into a multitude of plaits, beginning at the very top of the head, and falling as low as the neck. Both sexes have the hair plaited in this manner, but the men wear their plaits in various ways. According to strict Abyssinian etiquette, which has greatly faded in later years, a youth who has not distinguished himself ought to wear his hair unplaited. As soon as he has killed a man in battle, he shaves his head, with the exception of a single plait, and for every additional victim a fresh plait is added. When he kills the fifth, he is allowed to wear the whole of his hair in tresses.

This mode of dressing the hair occupies a vast amount of time, but time is of no value to an Abyssinian, who expends several hours upon his head once every fortnight or so. The plaits are held in their places by a sort of fixture made of boiled cotton-seeds, and are plentifully saturated with butter. Vast quantities of this latter article are consumed in Abyssinian toilets, and it is considered a mark of fashion to place a large pat of butter on the top of the head before going out in the morning, and to allow it to be melted by the heat of the sun and run over the hair. Of course it drips from the ends of the long tresses on the neck and clothes of the wearer, but such stains are considered as marks of wealth. Sometimes it runs over the face, and is apt to get into the eyes, so that in hot weather the corner of the quarry is largely used in wiping away the trickling butter.

In order to preserve the arrangement of the hair during the night, they use instead of a pillow a sort of short crutch, looking very like a common scraper with a rounded top.

CHAPTER LXV.
ABYSSINIA—Continued.

GOVERNMENT OF ABYSSINIA — THE EMPEROR AND HIS GENEALOGY — THE THREE DISTRICTS AND THEIR RULERS — THE MINOR CHIEFS AND THEIR DISTINGUISHING EMBLEMS — KING THEODORE — A BRIEF SKETCH OF HIS LIFE — CAREER FROM THE RANKS TO THE THRONE — HIS ATTEMPTS AT REFORM — ADMINISTRATION OF JUSTICE — A MODERN SOLOMON — MODES OF PUNISHMENT — THE LADIES’ GAME — ABYSSINIAN PLEADING — THE TRIAL BY WAGER — QUARRELSOME CHARACTER OF THE ABYSSINIANS — THEIR VANITY AND BOASTFULNESS — THE LAW OF DEBT — HOSPITALITY AND ITS DUTIES — COOKERY AND MODES OF EATING — THE RAW FLESH FEAST — PEPPER SAUCE — THE USE OF THE SHOTEL — A WEDDING FEAST — ABYSSINIAN DIGESTION.

The government of the Abyssinians has varied several times, but has mostly settled down into a sort of divided monarchy.

There is an Emperor, supreme king, or Negust, who must be a lineal descendant of Solomon and the Queen of Sheba, and who must be crowned by the high priest or Abuna, an ecclesiastic who corresponds very nearly with the Greek Patriarch. Mostly, the king holds but nominal sway over the fierce and insubordinate chiefs of provinces, and, as is likely, the fiercest, cleverest, and most unscrupulous chief generally contrives to manage the king much as he likes. Should the king be strong-minded enough to hold his own opinions, the chiefs become dissatisfied, and by degrees fall into a state of chronic rebellion, as was the case during the last years of Theodore’s life.

Each of the great districts has its own Ras, chief, or prince, according to the title that may be used, and his authority is absolute in his own province. The Ras appoints under him a number of great chiefs, who bear the title of Dejasmatch (commonly contracted into Dejatch), corresponding in some degree with our ducal rank. Under these great chiefs are lesser officers, and each of them is appointed by beat of the great drum of ceremony and proclamation by the heralds. Men so appointed have the privilege of drums beating before them on a march or in battle, and their rank, that of “addy negarie,” or men of honor, confers the same practical power as that of Dejasmatch, the title alone being wanting.

It may be as well to mention that the late King Theodore held the title of Dejasmatch before he had himself named King of Ethiopia; and as the history of this remarkable man gives some idea of the Abyssinian mode of government, a very brief sketch will be given of his progress to the throne.

Putting together the various histories that have appeared, and rejecting their many discrepancies, we come to the following series of events.

Kassai, for such was his name before he changed it to Theodorus, was the son of a very small chief named Hailu Weleda Georgis, whose only distinction seems to have been his reputed descent from the Queen of Sheba, a tradition of which Kassai afterward took advantage. When he died, his little property was seized by his relations, and his widow was forced to support herself by selling the “kosso,” the popular remedy for the tape-worm, a creature which is singularly prevalent in this country. Kassai, then a boy, took refuge in a monastery, where he might have remained until this day, had not a Dejasmatch, who had turned rebel after their custom, attacked the monastery, burned the huts of which it was composed, and killed the boys who inhabited it by way of avenging himself on their parents. Kassai, however, escaped the massacre, and fled to a powerful and warlike relation, the Dejasmatch Coufu, under whom he learned the management of arms, and as much of the art of war as was known.

His uncle however died, and his two sons immediately fought for the patrimony; and, while they were quarrelling, another powerful Dejasmatch saw his opportunity, swept down suddenly upon them, and made himself master of the best and most fertile part of the district.

Again ejected from a home, Kassai contrived to get together a band of followers, whom we should not wrong very greatly by calling robbers, and for some years lived a wandering life marvellously resembling that of David in his earlier years. By degrees his band increased until some of the petty chiefs joined him with their followers, and he became a man of such importance that the well-known Waisoro Mennen, the crafty and ambitious mother of Ras Ali, finding that he could not be beaten in the field, gave him in marriage the daughter of the Ras. She, however, proved a faithful wife to him, and would have nothing to do with the schemes of her grandmother. At last Kassai and Waisoro Mennen came to an open rupture, and fought a battle, in which the former was victorious, and captured both the lady and her fine province of Dembea. The latter he kept, but the former he set at liberty.

Ras Ali then tried to rid himself of his troublesome son-in-law by assigning Dembea to Berru Goshu, a powerful Dejasmatch, who accordingly invaded the district, and drove Kassai out of it. This happened in 1850. In less than two years, however, Kassai reorganized an army, attacked the camp of Berru Goshu, shot him with his own hand, and got back his province. Thinking that matters were now becoming serious, Ras Ali took the field in person and marched against Kassai, who conquered him, drove him among the Gallas for safety, and took possession of the whole of Amhara.

Having secured this splendid prize, he sent to Ras Oubi, the Prince of Tigré, and demanded tribute. Oubi refused, led his army against Kassai, and lost both his province and his liberty. The conqueror kept him in prison until 1860, when his first wife died, and he married the daughter of Oubi, whom he released and made a tributary vassal.

Being now practically master of the whole country, he sent for Abba Salama, the then Abuna or Patriarch, and had himself crowned by the title of Theodorus, King of the kings of Ethiopia. This event took place in 1855; and from that time to his death Theodore maintained his supremacy, his astonishing personal authority keeping in check the fierce and rebellious spirits by whom he was surrounded. How he really tried to do the best for his country we all know. Semi-savage as he was by nature, he possessed many virtues, and, had he known his epoch better, would still have been on the throne, the ruler of a contented instead of a rebellious people. But he was too far ahead of his age. He saw the necessity for reforms, and impatiently tried to force them on the people, instead of gently paving the way for them. The inevitable results followed, and Theodore’s mind at last gave way under the cares of empire and the continual thwartings of his many schemes. Still, even to the last he never lost his self-reliance nor his splendid courage, and, though the balance of his mind was gone, and he alternated between acts of singular kindness and savage cruelty, he fought to the last, and not until he was deserted by his soldiers did he die by his own hand at the entrance of his stronghold.

He saw very clearly that the only way to establish a consolidated kingdom was to break the power of the great chiefs or princes. This he did by the simple process of putting them in chains until they yielded their executive powers, and contented themselves rather with the authority of generals than of irresponsible rulers. He was also desirous of doing away with the custom that made every man an armed soldier, and wished to substitute a paid standing army for the miscellaneous horde of armed men that filled the country. He was anxious to promote agriculture, and, according to his own words, not only to turn swords into reaping-hooks—a very easy thing, by the way, with an Abyssinian sword—but to make a ploughing ox more valuable than a war-horse. To his own branch of the Church he was deeply attached, and openly said that he had a mission to drive Islamism from his country, and for that reason was at war with the Gallas, who, as well as the Shooas and other tribes, profess the religion of Mohammed. That being done, he intended to march and raze to the ground Mecca and Medina, the two sacred cities of Islam; and even projected a march to Jerusalem itself.

His most difficult task, however, was the suppression of the immorality that reigns throughout Abyssinia, and which, according to Mr. Parkyns, has a curious effect on the manners of the people. Neither men nor women seem to have any idea that the least shame can be attached to immorality, and the consequence is that both in word and manner they are perfectly decorous. To cope with so ingrained a vice seems an impracticable task, and such it turned out to be. He set the example to his people by only taking one wife, and when she died he had many scruples about the legality of taking another, and did not do so until after consultation with European friends and careful examination of the Bible. He could not, however, keep up the fight against nature, and in his last years he had resorted to the old custom of the harem.

(1.) THEODORE AND THE LIONS.
(See [page 653].)

(2.) PLEADERS.
(See [page 654].)

As the reader would probably like to see what kind of a man was this Theodorus, I give a [portrait] on page 652, taken from a sketch made of him while he was in the enjoyment of perfect health of body and mind, and while he was the irresponsible ruler of his country, knowing of none greater than himself, and having his mind filled with schemes of conquest of other lands, and reform of his own. The portrait was taken by M. Lejean, some ten years before the death of Theodorus; and, in spite of the loss of his hair, which he wore short in the last years of his life, and of the ravages which time, anxiety, and misdirected zeal had made in his features, the face is essentially the same as that of the dead man who lay within the gates of Magdala on the fatal Good Friday of 1868.

Knowing the character of the people over whom he reigned, Theodore made liberal use of external accessories for the purpose of striking awe into them, such as magnificent robes and weapons adorned with the precious metals. Among the most valued of these accessories were four tame lions, of which he was very fond. These animals travelled about with him, and even lived in the same stable with the horses, never being chained or shut up in cages, but allowed to walk about in perfect liberty. They were as tame and docile as dogs, and M. Lejean states that the only objection to them was the over-demonstrative affection of their manners. Like cats they delighted to be noticed and made much of, and were apt to become unpleasantly importunate in soliciting caresses.

They were, however, somewhat short-tempered when travelling over the mountain ranges, the cold weather of those elevated regions making them uncomfortable and snappish. With an idea of impressing his subjects with his importance, an art in which he was eminently successful, Theodore was accustomed to have his lions with him when he gave audience, and the accompanying portrait was taken from a sketch of the Lion of Abyssinia seated in the audience-chamber, and surrounded with the living emblems of the title which he bore, and which he perpetuated in his royal seal.

Justice is administered in various modes, sometimes by the will of the chief, and sometimes by a sort of court or council of elders. The former process is generally of a very summary character, and is based on the old Mosaic principle of an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. If one man murders another, for example, and the culprit be detected, the Ras will direct the nearest relation of the murderer to kill him in precisely the same manner that he killed his victim. One very odd case was investigated by Oubi, the Ras or Prince of Tigré.

Two little boys, the elder eight and the younger five years of age, had been walking together, when they saw a tree laden with fruit. After some difficulty, the elder climbed into the tree, and, standing on a branch, plucked the fruit and threw it to his little companion who stood below him. By some accident or other he fell from the tree upon the head of his playfellow, and killed him on the spot. The parents of the poor child insisted that the boy who killed him should be arraigned for murder, and, after a vast amount of consultation, he was found guilty. Ras Oubi then gave sentence. The culprit was to stand under the branch exactly where had stood the poor little boy. The eldest brother was then to climb up the tree and fall on the other boy’s head until he killed him.

Theft is generally punished with flogging, the whip being a most formidable weapon, made of hide, and called, from its length and weight, the “giraffe.” A thief is sometimes taken into the market-place, stripped to the waist, and led by two men, while a third delivers a terrific series of blows with the giraffe whip. After each blow the delinquent is forced to exclaim, “All ye who see me thus, profit by my example.”

Many other offences, such as sacrilege, rebellion, and the like, are punished by the loss of a hand or a foot, sometimes of both. The forfeited member is amputated in a very clumsy way, with a small curved knife, so that a careless or maladroit executioner can inflict frightful suffering. The culprit generally gives a fee to the executioner, who will then put as keen an edge as possible on the knife, and tell the sufferer how to arrange his hand, and spread his fingers, so that the tendons may be stretched, and the joint separated easily. One man of rank, who had been condemned to lose his left hand, suffered the operation without moving a muscle of his countenance, and when the hand was severed, he took it up with his right, and flung it in the face of the presiding chief, with the exclamation that he still had a hand wherewith to fling a spear. With the same equanimity he dipped the bleeding stump into the boiling oil which is generally used as a styptic. Sometimes, however, the use of the hot oil is forbidden, and the sufferer is left to bleed to death.

The Abyssinians, however, are as little sensitive to pain as most African tribes, and endure with ease injuries which would kill an European. The young men have a curious amusement, which well exemplifies their insensibility to pain. “When a party of young men are seated together, the ladies present will bring bits of the pith of millet stems, cut to about an inch long, and of the thickness of a man’s thumb, or, what is better still, pieces of old rag, rolled tight, so as to form a pellet of similar dimensions. These are arranged in patterns by each lady on the extended arm of any one whom she may choose, and their tops lighted.

“The only merit in the man is to allow them to burn themselves out entirely, without moving his arm so as to cause them to fall, or evincing the slightest consciousness of pain either by word, look, or gesture. On the contrary, he must continue a flow of agreeable conversation, as if nothing were occurring. The lady operator usually blows her fires to keep them going, and the material, whether pith or rag, being of a very porous nature, and burning slowly like tinder, the action of the fire is felt on the skin long before it actually reaches it. It is, in fact, an operation similar to the ‘moxa’ of European surgery. When the pellets are completely burned out, the lady rubs her hand roughly over the cauterized parts, so as to remove the burnt skin. On a copper-colored person the scars, when well healed, assume a polished black surface, which contrasts very prettily with the surrounding skin.”

The courts of justice, to which allusion has been made, are composed of elders; or not unfrequently the chief of the district acts as the magistrate. When two persons fall into a dispute and bring it before the court, an officer comes for the litigants, and ties together the corner of their quarries. Holding them by the knot, he leads them before the magistrate, where each is at liberty to plead his own cause. From the moment that the knot is tied, neither is allowed to speak, under penalty of a heavy fine, until they have come before the magistrate; and when the trial has begun, (see [engraving No. 2], p. 652,) the plaintiff has the first right of speech, followed by the defendant in reply. Neither is allowed to interrupt the other under pain of a fine; but, in compassion to the weakness of human nature, the non-speaker may grunt if he likes when the adversary makes any statement that displeases him.

The oddest part of the proceeding is the custom of betting, or rather paying forfeits, on the result of the investigation. A plaintiff, for example, offers to bet one, two, or more mules, and the defendant feels himself bound to accept the challenge, though he may sometimes modify the amount of the bet. When the case is determined, the loser pays the sum, not to the winner, but to the chief who decides the case. A “mule,” by the way, does not necessarily mean the animal, but the word is used conventionally to represent a certain sum of money, so that a “mule” means ten dollars, just as among English sporting men a “pony” signifies £25.

This practice is carried on to such an extent that Mr. Parkyns has seen ten mules betted upon the payment of a small quantity of corn, worth only two or three shillings. The object of the “bet” seems to be that the offer binds the opposite party to carry out the litigation, and when it is offered, the chief forces the loser to pay under the penalty of being put in chains.

It may be seen from the foregoing observations that the Abyssinians are rather a quarrelsome people. This arises chiefly from their vanity, which is extreme, and which culminates to its highest point when the brain is excited and the tongue loosened by drink. It was this national characteristic which induced King Theodore to imagine himself the equal of any monarch on the face of the earth, and to fancy that he could cope successfully with the power of England.

Mr. Mansfield Parkyns gives a very amusing account of this national failing.

“Vanity is one of the principal besetting sins of the Abyssinians, and it is to this weakness, when brought out by liquor, that the origin of most of their quarrels may be traced. I remember more than once to have heard a remark something like the following made by one of two men who, from being ‘my dear friends,’ had chosen to sit next to each other at table: ‘You’re a very good fellow, and my very dear friend; but (hiccup) you aren’t half so brave or handsome as I am!’ The ‘very dear friend’ denies the fact in a tone of voice denoting anything but amity, and states that his opinion is exactly the reverse. The parties warm in the argument; words, as is usual when men are in such a state, are bandied about without any measure, and often without much meaning; insults follow; then blows; and if the parties round them be in a similar condition to themselves, and do not immediately separate them, it frequently happens that swords are drawn.

“Dangerous wounds or death are the consequence; or, as is not uncommon, others of the party, siding with the quarrellers, probably with the idea of settling the affair, are induced to join in the row, which in the end becomes a general engagement. I have noticed this trait of vanity as exhibiting itself in various ways in a drunken Abyssinian. I always found that the best plan for keeping a man quiet, when in this state, was to remark to him that it was unbecoming in a great man to behave in such a way, that people of rank were dignified and reserved in their manners and conversation. And thus I have argued very successfully with my own servants on more than one occasion, flattering them while they were tipsy, and then paying them off with a five-foot male bamboo when they got sober again.

“I recollect one fellow who was privileged, for he had asked my leave to go to a party and get drunk. On returning home in the evening, he staggered into my room in as dignified a manner as he could, and, seating himself beside me on my couch, embraced me with tears in his eyes, made me a thousand protestations of attachment and affection, offering to serve me in any way he could, but never by a single expression evincing that he considered me as other than a dear friend, and that indeed in rather a patronizing fashion, although the same fellow was in the habit of washing my feet, and kissing them afterward, every evening, and would, if sober, have no more thought of seating himself, even on the ground, in my presence, than of jumping over the moon.

“With his fellow-servants, too, he acted similarly; for though he knew them all, and their characters and positions, he addressed them as his servants, ordering them about, and upbraiding them for sundry peccadilloes which they had doubtless committed, and which thus came to my knowledge. In fact, in every point he acted to perfection the manners and language of a great man; and so often have I seen the same mimicry, that it has led me to believe that the chief mental employment of the lowest fellow in the country is building castles in the air, and practising to himself how he would act, and what he would say, if he were a great man.”

The law of debt is a very severe one. The debtor is thrown into prison, and chained to the wall by the wrist. The ring that encloses the wrist is a broad hoop or bracelet of iron, which is forced asunder far enough to permit the hand to enter, and is then hammered together tightly enough to prevent the hand from being withdrawn. After a while, if the sum be not paid, the bracelet is hammered a little tighter; and so the creditor continues to tighten the iron until it is driven into the flesh, the course of the blood checked, and the hand finally destroyed by mortification.

Should the Government be the creditor for unpaid tribute, a company of soldiers is quartered on the debtor, and he is obliged to feed them with the best of everything under pain of brutal ill-treatment. Of course this mode of enforcing payment often has the opposite effect, and, when a heavy tax has been proclaimed in a district, the people run away en masse from the villages. In such a case the headman of the village is responsible for the entire amount, and sometimes is obliged to make his escape with as much portable property as he can manage to carry off.

When rightly managed, the Abyssinians are a hospitable people. Some travellers take a soldier with them, and demand food and lodging. These of course are given, through fear, but without a welcome. The right mode is, that when a traveller comes to a village, he sits under a tree, and waits. The villagers soon gather round him, question him, and make remarks on his appearance with perfect candor. After he has undergone this ordeal, some one is sure to ask him to his house, and, should he happen to be a person of distinction, one of the chief men is certain to be his host.

When Mr. Parkyns was residing in Abyssinia, he always adopted this plan. On one occasion the headman invited him to his house, and treated him most hospitably, apologizing for the want of better food on the ground that he had lately been made liable for the tribute of a number of persons who had run away, and was consequently much reduced in the world. It proved that sixteen householders had escaped to avoid the tax, and that the unfortunate man had to pay the whole of it, amounting to a sum which forced him to sell his horse, mule, and nearly all his plough oxen, and, even when he was entertaining his visitor, he was in dread lest the soldiers should be quartered on him.

The question of hospitality naturally leads us to the cooking and mode of eating as practised in Abyssinia, about which so many strange stories have been told. We have all heard of Bruce’s account of the eating of raw meat cut from the limbs of a living bullock, and of the storm of derision which was raised by the tale. We will see how far he was borne out by facts.

The “staff of life” is prepared in Abyssinia much after the same fashion as in other parts of Africa, the grain being ground between two stones, and then made into a sort of very thin paste, about the consistency of gruel. This paste is allowed to remain in a jar for a day and night in order to become sour, and is then taken to the oven. This is a very curious article, being a slab of earthenware in which a concave hollow is made, and furnished with a small cover of the same material. A fire is made beneath the oven, or “magogo,” as it is termed, and when it is hot the baker, who is always a woman, proceeds to work.

She first rubs the hollow with an oily seed in order to prevent the bread from adhering to it, and then with a gourd ladle takes some of the thin dough from the jar. The gourd holds exactly enough to make one loaf, or rather cake. With a rapid movement the woman spreads the dough over the entire hollow, and then puts on the cover. In two or three minutes it is removed, and the bread is peeled off in one flat circular piece, some eighteen inches in width, and about the eighth of an inch in thickness. This bread, called “teff,” is the ordinary diet of an Abyssinian. It is very sour, very soft, and very spongy, and requires an experienced palate to appreciate it. There are several other kinds of bread, but the teff is that which is most valued.

As to the meat diet of the Abyssinians, it may be roughly divided into cooked and uncooked meat. Cooked meat is usually prepared from the least valued parts of the animal. It is cut up into little pieces, and stewed in a pot together with other ingredients, a considerable quantity of butter, and such an amount of capsicum pods that the whole mess is of a light red color, and a drop of it leaves a red stain on any garment on which it may happen to fall. This paste is called “dillikh,” and is made by grinding together a quantity of capsicum pods and an equal amount of onions, to which are added ginger, salt, black pepper, and other herbs, according to the taste of the preparer. The poorer class, who cannot afford meat, can still make dillikh paste, and live almost entirely on teff, clotted milk, and dillikh.

But the great treat for an Abyssinian epicure is the “broundo,” or raw meat, about which he is as fastidious as the European bon vivant about his sauces and ragouts. Not an Abyssinian will eat any animal which has incisor teeth in its upper jaw, and, like the Jews, they even reject the camel, because it has not a cloven hoof.

According to the account given by Bruce, when a dinner party is assembled, a cow is brought to the door of the house, bound, flung down, and a few drops of its blood poured on the ground in order to save the letter of the Mosaic law. The butchers then cut large strips of meat from the poor beast, taking care to avoid the vital parts and larger vessels, and managing so as to remove the flesh without much effusion of blood.

The still warm flesh is taken within the house, where it is sliced into strips by the men, and handed to the women who sit by their side. The women cut it up into small squares, lay it on the “teff” bread, season it plentifully with the dillikh paste, roll it up into balls, and push the balls into the mouth of their companion, who eats until he is satisfied, and then reciprocates the attention by making up a couple of similar balls, and putting them into the mouths of the women. (See [page 643].) Mead and tedge are then consumed as largely as the meat, and, according to Bruce, a scene of the most abominable licentiousness accompanies the conclusion of the festival.

These statements have been much controverted, but there is no doubt that, in the main, the narrative of Bruce was a truthful one. Many of the facts of which he wrote have since been corroborated, while the changes to which Abyssinia has been subjected will account for unimportant variations. Later travellers, for example, have not witnessed such a scene as has been narrated by Bruce, but that is no reason why such a scene should not have occurred. The most important part of it, namely, the eating of raw flesh, has been repeatedly corroborated, especially by Mansfield Parkyns, who lived so long with the Abyssinians, dressed like them, fed like them, and accommodated himself in most respects to their mode of life.

He found that meat was always, if possible, eaten in the raw state, only the inferior qualities being made fit for consumption by cookery. His description of the mode of eating tallies exactly with that of Bruce. The meat is always brought to the consumer while still warm and quivering with life, as it becomes tough and stringy when suffered to become cold. Each guest is furnished with plenty of teff and the invariable pepper sauce. His fingers take the place of a fork, and his sword, or shotel, does duty for a knife. Holding the broundo in his left hand, he takes into his capacious mouth as much as it can accommodate, and then, with an adroit upward stroke of the sword, severs the piece of meat, and just contrives to avoid cutting off his nose. He alternates the pieces of meat with teff and dillikh, and, when he has finished, refreshes himself copiously with drink.

Such food as this appears to be indescribably disgusting, and very unfit for a nation that prides itself on its Christianity. Many persons, indeed, have said that no one could eat raw meat except when pressed by starvation, and have therefore discredited all accounts of the practice.

Perhaps my readers may remember that after Bruce’s return a gentleman was making very merry with this account in the traveller’s presence, treating the whole story as a fabrication, on the ground that to eat raw meat was impossible. Bruce said nothing, but quietly left the room, and presently returned with a piece of beef rolled and peppered after the Abyssinian fashion, and gave his astonished opponent the choice of eating the meat or fighting him on the spot. As Bruce was of gigantic strength and stature, and an accomplished swordsman to boot, the meat was eaten, and the fact proved to be possible.

Mr. Parkyns, who, when in Abyssinia, very wisely did as the Abyssinians do, found that he soon became accustomed to the taste of raw meat, and learned how to prefer one part of an animal to another. He discovered that a very good imitation of an oyster could be made by chopping up a sheep’s liver very fine, and seasoning it with pepper, vinegar, and a little salt, provided that the consumer shut his eyes while eating it. He even learned to appreciate a dish called chogera, which seems to be about the very acme of abomination. It consists of the liver and stomach chopped up fine, mixed with a little of the half-digested grass found in the stomach, flavored with the contents of the gall bladder, plentifully seasoned with pepper, salt, and onions, and eaten uncooked.

An Abyssinian’s digestion is marvellous, and almost rivals that of a pike, which will digest half of a fish in its stomach while the other half is protruding from its mouth. He will go to any number of feasts in a day, and bring a fine fresh appetite to each of them, consuming at a meal a quantity that would suffice seven or eight hungry Englishmen. Mr. Parkyns once gave a breakfast to fourteen guests, thinking that, as they were engaged for three or four other feasts on the same day, they would perhaps eat but little.

Keeping up, however, the old hospitable customs, he killed a cow and two fat sheep, and provided many gallons of mead and an infinite quantity of “teff.” To his astonishment, the whole of this enormous supply vanished, as he says, “like smoke,” before his guests, who left scarcely a scrap for their servants. And, after this feast, the whole of the party proceeded to another house, where they were treated in a similarly liberal manner, and employed the day in a series of four or five such banquets.

The Abyssinians are very fastidious respecting the part of the animal from which the broundo is cut, and have a vast number of names to express the different qualities of meat. The most valued portion is the hump of the shoulder, the first cut of which is always given to the man of the highest rank. Consequently, when several men of nearly equal rank meet, a polite controversy is carried on for some time, each offering the cut of honor to his neighbor.

On one occasion this piece of etiquette produced fatal results. Several Amhara chiefs were present, together with one Tigréan. The latter, in order to assert the superiority of his own province, drew his sword and helped himself to the first cut, whereupon he was immediately challenged by two Amhara warriors. He accepted the challenge, fought them both, killed them both, and so vindicated the course which he had taken.

The quantity which an Abyssinian will eat when he gets the chance must be seen to be appreciated. See for example Mr. Parkyns’ account of a feast at an Abyssinian wedding:—

“The Abyssinian guests were squatted round the tables in long rows, feeding as if their lives depended on the quantity they could devour, and washing it down with floods of drink. I never could have believed that any people could take so much food, and certainly, if the reader wishes to see a curious exhibition in the feeding line, he has only to run over to Abyssinia, and be present at a wedding-feast.

“Imagine two or three hundred half-naked men and women all in one room, eating and drinking in the way I have described in a former chapter, but with this difference—that the private party is well ordered and arranged, while the public ‘hang-out’ is a scene of the most terrible confusion. Here all decorum is lost sight of; and you see the waiters, each with a huge piece of raw beef in his hands, rushing frantically to and fro in his desire to satisfy the voracious appetites of the guests, who, as he comes within their reach, grasp the meat, and with their long crooked swords hack off a lump or strip, as the case may be, in their eagerness not to lose their share.

“One man was reported on this occasion to have eaten ‘tallak’ and ‘tamash’ of raw beef (each weighing from four to five pounds) and seven cakes of bread, and to have drunk twenty-six pints of beer and ‘tedge.’ From what I saw I can believe a good deal, but this appears rather a ‘stretcher.’

“We of the Frank sect were presented with our share of the ‘broundo;’ but as our thoughtful host had informed us that a dinner, cooked by his own hands in the Turkish style, was awaiting us in an inner apartment, we merely, for formality’s sake, tasted the offered delicacies, and then handed them over to our servants, who, standing behind us, were ready enough to make away with them. The silversmith Michael, before coming to the feast, had, it would appear, been pouring a tolerably copious libation to some god or other, for he was considerably elevated, and, being anxious to show off, commenced eating in the Abyssinian fashion, nor did he stop until he had cut a large gash in his nose.”

The hands are always carefully washed both before and after a meal. Just before the feast is over, the servants come round with baskets to the guests, each of whom places in the basket a portion of his food. As to the little boys, they crawl about under the tables, and among the legs of the guests, and are always ready for any fragments that may be accidentally dropped or intentionally given to them.

The beer, or “tedge,” and mead, which have been mentioned, are favorite drinks among the Abyssinians. The former is very thick and gruel-like, and to a European is very repulsive. The latter, however, is tolerably good, and is kept carefully in large jars. The mouth of each jar is covered with a piece of cotton cloth drawn tightly over it. This is not removed when the mead is poured out, and acts as a strainer.

CHAPTER LXVI.
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.

(1.) THE BATTLE FIELD.
(See [page 663].)

(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.”

(1.) BUFFALO DANCE.
(See [page 671].)

(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.