“I see, Madam,” said I, “Ayto Aylo has informed you of a few words that some time ago dropt from me. I do certainly believe the miracles of Christ and his apostles, otherwise I am no Christian; but I do not believe these miracles of latter times, wrought upon trifling occasions, like sports, and jugglers tricks.”—“And yet,” says she, “our books are full of them.”—“I know they are,” said I, “and so are those of the Catholics: but I never can believe that a saint converted the devil, who lived, forty years after, a holy life as a monk; nor the story of another saint, who, being sick and hungry, caused a brace of partridges, ready-roasted, to fly upon his plate that he might eat them.”—“He has been reading the Synaxar,” says Ayto Aylo. “I believe so,” says she, smiling; “but is there any harm in believing too much, and is not there great danger in believing too little?”—“Certainly,” continued I; “but what I meant to say to Ayto Aylo was, that I did not believe laying a picture upon Welled Hawaryat would recover him when delirious in a fever.” She answered, “There was nothing impossible with God.” I made a bow of assent, wishing heartily the conversation might end there.
I returned to the Moors town, leaving Aylo with the queen. In the afternoon I heard Welleta Selassé was dead; and at night died her father, Welled Hawaryat. The contagion from Masuah and Adowa had spread itself all over Gondar. Ozoro Ayabdar, daughter of Ozoro Altash, was now sick, and a violent fever had fallen upon Koscam. The next morning Aylo came to me and told me, the faith in the saint who did not eat or drink for twenty years was perfectly abandoned since Welled Hawaryat’s death: That it was the desire of the queen, and Ozoro Esther, that I should transport myself to Koscam to the Iteghé’s palace, where all their children and grandchildren, by the different men the queen’s daughters had married, were under her care. I told him, “I had some difficulty to obey them, from the positive orders I had received from Petros to stay in the Moors town with Hagi Saleh till the Ras should arrive; that Koscam was full of priests, and Abba Salama there every day; notwithstanding which, if Petros and he so advised me, I would certainly go to do any possible service to the Iteghé, or Ozoro Esther.”
He desired half an hour’s absence before he gave me an answer, but did not return till about three hours afterwards, and, without alighting, cried out at some distance, “Aya, come, you must go immediately.” “I told him, that new and clean clothes in the Gondar fashion had been procured for me by Petros, and that I wished they might be sent to his house, where I would put them on, and then go to Koscam, with a certainty that I carried no infection with me, for I had attended a number of Moorish children, while at Hagi Saleh’s house, most of whom happily went on doing well, but that there was no doubt there would be infection in my clothes.” He praised me up to the skies for this precaution, and the whole was executed in the manner proposed. My hair was cut round, curled, and perfumed, in the Amharic fashion, and I was thenceforward, in all outward appearance, a perfect Abyssinian.
My first advice, when arrived at Koscam, was, that Ozoro Esther, and her son by Mariam Barea, and a son by Ras Michael, should remove from the palace, and take up their lodging in a house formerly belonging to her uncle Basha Eusebius, and give the part of the family that were yet well a chance of escaping the disease. Her young son by Mariam Barea, however, complaining, the Iteghè would not suffer him to remove, and the resolution was taken to abide the issue all in the palace together.
Before I entered upon my charge, I desired Petros (now recovered) Aylo, Abba Christophorus, a Greek priest who acted as physician before I came to Gondar, and Armaxikos priest of Koscam, and favourite of the Iteghè, to be all present. I stated to them the disagreeable task now imposed upon me, a stranger without acquaintance or protection, having the language but imperfectly, and without power or controul among them. I professed my intention of doing my utmost, although the disease was much more serious and fatal in this country than in mine, but I insisted one condition should be granted me, which was, that no directions as to regimen or management, even of the most trifling kind, as they might think, should be suffered, without my permission and superintendence, otherwise I washed my hands of the consequence, which I told before them would be fatal. They all assented to this, and Armaxikos declared those excommunicated that broke this promise; and I saw that, the more scrupulous and particular I was, the more the confidence of the ladies increased. Armaxikos promised me the assistance of his prayers, and those of the whole monks, morning and evening; and Aylo said lowly to me, “You’ll have no objection to this saint, I assure you he eats and drinks heartily, as I shall shew you when once these troubles are over.”
I set the servants all to work. There were apartments enough. I opened all the doors and windows, fumigating them with incense and myrrh, in abundance, washed them with warm water and vinegar, and adhered strictly to the rules which my worthy and skilful friend Doctor Russel had given me at Aleppo.
The common and fatal regimen in this country, and in most parts in the east, has been to keep their patient from feeling the smallest breath of air; hot drink, a fire, and a quantity of covering are added in Abyssinia, and the doors shut so close as even to keep the room in darkness, whilst this heat is further augmented by the constant burning of candles.
Ayabdar, Ozoro Altash’s remaining daughter, and the son of Mariam Barea, were both taken ill at the same time, and happily recovered. A daughter of Kasmati Boro, by a daughter of Kasmati Eshtès, died, and her mother, though she survived, was a long time ill afterwards. Ayabdar was very much marked, so was Mariam Barea’s son.
At this time, Ayto Confu, son of Kasmati Netcho by Ozoro Esther, had arrived from Tcherkin, a lad of very great hopes, though not then fourteen. He came to see his mother without my knowledge or her’s, and was infected likewise. Last of all the infant child of Michael, the child of his old age, took the disease, and though the weakest, of all the children, recovered best. I tell these actions for brevity’s sake altogether, not directly in the order they happened, to satisfy the reader about the reason of the remarkable attention and favour shewed to me afterwards upon so short an acquaintance.
The fear and anxiety of Ozoro Esther, upon smaller occasions, was excessive, and fully in proportion in the greater that now existed; many promises of Michael’s favour, of riches, greatness, and protection, followed every instance of my care and attention towards my patients. She did not eat or sleep herself; and the ends of her fingers were all broke out into pustules, from touching the several sick persons. Confu, the favourite of all the queen’s relations, and the hopes of their family, had symptoms which all feared would be fatal, as he had violent convulsions, which were looked upon as forerunners of immediate death; they ceased, however, immediately on the eruption. The attention I shewed to this young man, which was more than overpaid by the return he himself made on many occasions afterwards, was greatly owing to a prepossession in his favour, which I took upon his first appearance. Policy, as may be imagined, as well as charity, alike influenced me in the care of my other patients; but an attachment, which providence seemed to have inspired me with for my own preservation, had the greatest share in my care for Ayto Confu.