The palace of Ankobar lifts its thatched roofs above the summit of a high pyramidal hill, the abrupt termination of the narrow spur-like ridge upon which Ankobar stands. Three sides are singularly regular, and appear as if cut into an angular pyramidal cone, that rises two or three hundred feet above the level of the ridge to which it is connected on the fourth side. A high stockade of splintered ted winds spirally from midway, to the last enclosure upon the top of the hill, wherein stand the royal buildings. The lower portion of the palisades skirt for some distance the road into Ankobar from the valley of the Airahra, and the first house upon the elevated ridge may be said to be the palace, for its large and rudely-formed wooden gates on the left hand, are the first doorway perceived by the weary traveller after having ascended to the level of the town.
If, however, he look over the precipices to the right, the whole way up, he will perceive hundreds of the thatched roofs of little circular houses, in which the greater number of the Royal slaves and servants reside with their families. These descend by a quick succession of little gardened terraces to the meadow-like but limited plateau that intervenes some distance, before the actual bed of the Airahra river is gained. If the traveller looks from his elevated position in this direction, and if it be a bright day, a splendid prospect extends before him. Houses, the straw tops of which he could jump down upon, so steep is the descent, conceal the view of those which are immediately below; but jutting beyond these, fringe-like enclosures of the thick foliage of the shokoko-gwoman and the amharara trees, and low-thatched roofs buried in gardens of the broad-leaved ensete or koba banana plant, appear, falling rapidly to the undulating broad meadow, studded with numerous little eminences, where solitary, but snug-looking farmhouses are sheltered by tall flat-topped mimosas or the pine-like growing ted. Partial glimpses, of the winding Airahra beyond; here, where it meanders sluggishly through a verdant mead, or there, where a silver column marks a distant fall; the opposite grey cliffs of the Tchakkah range, dotted with dark green clumps of the huge crimson-flowering cosso, all aid in filling up the background of a picture of real beauty and of apparent peace, upon which the eye and mind can dwell for hours untired, contemplating with a pleased sympathy of delight, upon a scene that appears so adapted for a practical experiment of Utopian colonization, the object of which should be the fullest development of human happiness and excellence.
I did not stop to-day, except when violent palpitation of the heart and the greatest oppression in breathing obliged me to come to a stand to recover myself after climbing up some stairs formed of the trunks of trees, that placed me upon a level position or landing-place; several of which aids in the steep ascent, characterize the King’s highway into Ankobar. Leaning upon Walderheros, I turned under the arch-way of the first gate, and passed through a narrow court, or partition, between two succeeding enclosures. Then beneath another gate-house, over which the clanking of chains needed no interpretation from my servant that it was the Royal prison for the temporary confinement of culprits. In the sheltered passage thus formed, I sat upon a huge stone to rest, whilst a long string of donkeys descended, coming from the storehouses above, where they had been delivering grain and berberah for the use of the palace. A long irregular series of wooden steps in a winding curve along the side of the hill, brought us to the last enclosure upon the summit. Here a little wicket leads to a high terrace-walk, having on one side a long row of palisades, and on the other, a clear and open view of the broad and deep valley of the Airahra, whilst before the visitor, stands a rude stone arch, but of what character, its architect, Demetrius, would be at a loss to say; this occupies the whole width of the terrace-walk, or about eighteen feet wide, and is from twelve to fifteen feet high. The gateway is about six feet wide and about nine feet high, and is closed by one large door, in which a lesser one for ordinary purposes is cut. After staying a short time in a little shed near the first wicket, and in which the porter is sheltered from the weather, Tinta appeared at the gate of Demetrius, and called me to come immediately, and in a very few moments I was introduced into a small room, where, upon a raised iron hearth, a good fire was burning. Here, on his usual throne, a white cloth covered alga, the Negoos was reclining, and in close conversation with the monk Bethlehem, who, sitting cross-legged on an ox-skin below, seemed to have been giving his opinion upon four or five rifles that lay before him upon the floor.
After the usual salutations were made, and an ox-skin had been spread for me, Walderheros, Tinta, and other attendants who had accompanied me into the room, were ordered to withdraw, and I began to suspect some political matters were to be the topic of our conversation. “Kaffu wobar,” (fevers are bad things,) said the monarch, which Bethlehem translated rather unnecessarily, but it commenced my examination as to the relative merits of gun-barrels. I had to describe how they were manufactured; what was the differences between the plain and twisted; in what manner the grooves on the rifle were made; and whether long or short barrels were most economical for service. As regarded the latter query, the monarch showed his quickness in detecting any anomaly, or apparent contradiction; for having before asserted that the best gun he had showed me to-day was a strong two-ounce rifle, double-barreled, I said that the long Arab matchlock barrel was most inconvenient by reason of its great weight, when he instantly took the rifle and placed it in my hands, to show me that it was at least twice the weight of the one I now contemned.
From guns the conversation changed to the subject of dyes, which appeared to be of the next importance in the mind of Sahale Selassee. The scarlet colour of our country I told him required not vegetables for its production, but either insects or minerals; and I suppose Bethlehem had previously explained this to him, as he seemed satisfied with my statement without farther question. Indigo, I was able to promise him that I would undertake to cultivate, and make serviceable to his people by teaching them how to manufacture the dye, if that I recovered my health after the rains subsided, and which it was expected they would in the middle of this month (September). He inquired very particularly into the process, and I explained it to him as well as I could, and he complimented me by saying, that my services in thus extending a knowledge of useful arts among his children (subjects) would be of more value than all the rich gifts that had been brought to him by the commander (our ambassador). I was then asked for some medicine for his brother who was sick, Bethlehem interpreting the whole conversation that took place upon this subject.
FOOTNOTES:
[12] Major Harris, in his “Highlands of Ethiopia,” has made the following assertions:—“In utter abhorrence of the country and its inhabitants, the Moslem servants who accompanied the Embassy from India all took their departure, willing to brave the dangers and difficulties of a long journey through the inhospitable deserts of Adaîel, rather than prolong a hateful sojourn in Abyssinia. One half of the number were murdered on their way down, and the places of all long remained empty.” This is most unjust both to the Dankalli and the Abyssinian, for of the twenty native and Arab servants, independent of the two tent Lascars mentioned as having accompanied the Mission, eight only were dismissed in Shoa—Sultaun, Hadjji Abdullah, Allee Chous, Berberah Allee, Abbas, Mahudee, Hadjji Ohmed, and an Indian boy, whose name I have forgotten. These servants had been led to expect, on their arrival in Abyssinia, the payment of the high wages which, in some of their cases, had alone induced them to accompany the Mission through Adal. Their disappointment may be conceived when they were then informed that a moiety only of their wages would be paid to them in Shoa, and that the remainder would run on in arrears until their return to Aden. This injustice, as it was conceived to be, was resented, and the discharge of these eight, in this remote country, was the consequence. The unfortunate servants appealed to the Negoos for redress, who condescended (but without avail) to intercede for their return to the Mission. This affront to the royal dignity was never forgotten, whilst a very injurious prejudice was raised by the conduct that was pursued by our representative with reference to the non-performance of the engagements entered into with these men. This being followed shortly afterwards by the infliction of corporeal punishment upon a soldier for a breach of martial law, when no other kind of discipline was even pretended to be kept up, astonished the Abyssinians not a little, and gave the finishing blow to all popular respect for English civilization, or wishes for any connexion whatever with our country.
But this is not all. Of the eight discharged servants, instead of the whole of these men showing any abhorrence of the country, the greater part of them took to themselves wives, and upon what little they had saved lived near me in Aliu Amba. Three of them however (Hadjji Ohmed, Mahudee, and the Indian boy), were induced to attempt a passage to the sea-coast. The Kafilah they accompanied was attacked on the eastern bank of the Hawash by the Takalee tribe. The Indian boy was slain, but Hadjji Ohmed and Mahudee, being mounted, fled different ways; the former fortunately found protection and shelter for more than a month with Omah Batta’s sub-division of the Sidee Ahbreu tribe, whilst Mahudee contrived to reach a much more distant portion of Adal, the country of Chur-Chur, on the road to Hurrah from Shoa. Here he also remained several weeks, receiving the greatest attention and kindness, and finally was restored, as was also Hadjji Ohmed, to the Negoos of Shoa, who rewarded their Adal entertainers for their hospitality to British subjects.
It may be naturally supposed that the author of the “Highlands of Ethiopia” was ignorant of these facts, but this is impossible, for Mahudee, who had visited Chur-Chur, was reinstated in his situation as horsekeeper to Major Harris himself, in return for the interesting information it was supposed he could give of the little-known country where he had been living.