Volume Three—Chapter Thirty One.

The Kingdom of Shoa.

    “Natura beatis
    Omnibus esse dedit, si quis cognoverit uti.”

Although the majestic fabrics, the pillars of porphyry, and the Corinthian domes of early writers, now exist only in the tradition, Ethiopia yet retains the fresh vegetation of a northern soil, the vivifying ardour of a tropical sun, and the cloudless azure of a southern sky. Palaces and fanes, gardens and gushing fountains, have long since departed; but there still remains a fertile country possessing vast capabilities, a salubrious and delightful climate, and a race of beings whose existence under absolute and complete despotism, presents a striking contrast to that of the idle and improvident Ada?el, whose pride and whose boast is a banner of independence.

Whatever Abyssinia may once have been, it is not to be expected that she should, under a great lapse of time, again take place among those countries which are peculiarly happy, opulent, or abundant. All her prevailing customs and practices are utterly at variance with existing laws for the creation, consumption, and distribution of wealth. A heavy taxation is levied on the produce of the field. Monastic and clerical establishments are fostered to the ruin of the people. The venal judges are paid by fees on the suits which they decide; and popular superstition and imposture possess the royal sanction for abuse. Nothing useful is ever taken into consideration; here are no roads or bridges to facilitate traffic, no schools for the instruction of the rising generation. The improvements of life have stopped at the satisfying point “of barren, bare necessity;” and fear and prejudice unite to deter the inhabitants from visiting foreign climes, so as to improve their benighted country, by introducing the discoveries in modern science.

But although thus ignorant of comfort even in their highest enjoyments, the people are yet considerably emerged from that state of society which is denominated barbarian, and practise a species of agriculture which the fertility of the soil has heretofore blessed with an abundant return. Throughout the kingdom the eye is greeted by extensive cultivation; and the art of husbandry in Shoa has far eclipsed the advances made by any nation hitherto visited on the western coast. Under certain despotic conditions, private property in the land is every where established. There are few forests or wastes, excepting those impracticable for pasture or cultivation. The village and the farm-steading are uniformly secure from predatory bands or hostile neighbours, and although thickly inhabited, the country is unburdened by any over-population.

The processes of preparing the ground are somewhat complex; a primitive plough is in use to the exclusion of the African hoe, and considerable industry is evinced in collecting and distributing the waters for artificial irrigation. The science of husbandry is nevertheless little understood; the implements of culture are few, and of the rudest construction; the various modes of assisting nature are unknown; and unless some civilised power interferes for good, a great length of time must necessarily elapse before the habits and prejudices of the uncultivated nation can be overcome for its own advantage.

Situated in the middle of the torrid zone, and composed of groups and ranges of lofty mountains overlooking wide plains and deep valleys, equally under the influence of the tropical rains, the climate at different elevations is of the most varied description. The high table-land, which is clothed with moderate vegetation, and destitute of wood, is at all times cool and healthy, and often extremely cold. Here there is no winter,

                “Such as when birds die
    In the deep forest, and the fishes lie
    Stiffened in the translucent ice.”

The coolness of the mountain breeze is pleasant and refreshing, and the timely cessation of the rain allows a healthful rest to vegetation.

The low wooded valleys, on the other hand, are close, unwholesome, and insufferably hot. During the cold season the thermometer on the summit of the range stands at about 30 degrees, a thin coating of ice covers the pools, and the country is white under a mantle of hoar frost. Below, the quicksilver mounts to 90 degrees, and the total absence of ventilation renders the heat still more oppressive. At the termination of the rains, Fever, with all her attendant horrors, spreads her pestilential wings over the most beautiful locations; and during the month of September even the wild birds for a time forsake the poisoned atmosphere, to seek the more congenial breezes of the upper regions.

The amazing fertility of the vales is beyond all conception. Every species of crop attains the most gigantic proportions. The rich soil and the nurturing shelter, the abundant supply of water, and the ardent rays of the sun, all combine to crown the hopes of the husbandman; and these situations would have stood prominent as perfect in the creation, had nature blessed them with a climate corresponding in character to their lovely appearance. On the mountain-side, the vegetation is somewhat inferior in luxuriance—a fact that may be accounted for by the angle at which the sun’s rays meet the ground, their power of imparting heat varying in proportion. As the eastern face of the range rises almost perpendicularly, it can only during half the day receive them at all, and for many hours in the warmest part of the afternoon, it is thus entirely in the shade.

On the elevated plateau, a succession of well-watered undulations of pasture and arable land, extend in endless continuation to the view, undisturbed by a solitary tree, their scattered villages and farm houses proclaiming a country which has long enjoyed the blessings of peace. From the centre of this table-land, the craggy mountains rise in magnificent ranges, clothed in part with majestic forests, and graced by the wild rose, the myrtle, the eglantine, and the jessamine; whilst at its foot repose the rich and smiling valleys, hid in all the luxuriance of tropical foliage, from the gigantic sycamore, beloved of the heathen Galla, and measuring upwards of forty feet in circumference, to the light and elegant acacia, which distils the much-prized gum.

On the table-land the best soil is found on the sheltered hill-side, of a rich brown colour, and along the river bank where there is a loamy alluvial deposit. Black earth is occasionally met with on the mountains, where it may probably have originated in the decomposition of those forests to which tradition gives existence in ancient days, but of which no other vestige now remains. In the valleys, those which form the governments of Giddem and Geshé especially, the richest black soil prevails throughout; and blessed with an abundant supply of rain, and with a mild genial climate, they produce all the crops known in Abyssinia, whilst the soil on the surrounding mountain-side, light, loose, and gravelly, would be found well adapted for the growth of coffee and tea.

Abyssinia is happy in a most copious supply of water, the gates of heaven being opened twice during the year to the flooding of every river and streamlet, and to the complete soaking of the earth. The “rain of bounty” commences in February, and lasts for thirty days, and the “rain of covenant” setting in before the termination of June, pours down with extreme violence throughout July, August, and September—at which period is produced that never-failing increase of the Nile to which Egypt is also indebted for her fertility. Immediately after these down-pourings, nature, who had remained bound up in the preceding drought, bursts forth into a thousand interesting forms. Pastures and meadows are clothed in cheering green; the hills and dales are adorned with myriads of beautiful and sweet-scented flowers, and the sides of the mountain ranges become one sheet of the most luxuriant cultivation.

Long after the rains are over, a heavy dew falls during the night; and under its vivifying influence the plants continue to shoot forth, refreshed by the coolness of the morning breeze, and strengthened by the strong heat of the mid-day sun. By the provident husbandman two crops are every year garnered in, without the land being impoverished; and whilst the corn is being reaped in one field, the seed is but just sown in another. The cattle are employed in ploughing up the fertile soil of one estate, whilst in the next the muzzled ox is trampling out its recently yielded treasures; and all the various operations of husbandry, from the breaking up of the ground to the final winnowing of the corn, may be simultaneously witnessed on one and the same farm.

    “Hic ver assiduum, atque alienis mensibus aestas,
    Bis gravidae pecudes, bis pomis utilis arbor.”

Forty-three species of grain and other useful products are already cultivated in Abyssinia. After supplying the immediate wants of the working classes, and those of a herd of clerical drones who devour the fruits of their honest labour, there remains a considerable surplus, which is bartered to the lazy Ada?el for the produce of his salt lake—a field that without ploughing or sowing yields an inestimable crop. But if only a small portion of European knowledge were to be instilled into the mind of the Christian cultivator, the kingdom of Shoa, possessed of such unbounded natural advantages, might be rapidly raised from its present condition, and made one inexhaustible granary for all the best fruits of the earth.