Volume Three—Chapter Forty Four.

The Great Annual Foray.

Another Abyssinian year had floated away upon the stream of time, and again the return of spring had been celebrated by the green fillet of enkotátach, by the tournament in the bright meadows of Debra Berhán, and by the plaintive ditty of the king’s Guráguês, who, with yellow garlands of the cross-flower wreathed among their raven tresses, once more chanted away their three days of privileged inebriety. As September drew towards a close, it had been confidently predicted that the rain would terminate according to its “covenant;” but it still poured on with unabated violence, and the review of Máskal was achieved under a pitiless deluge, which exerted its best endeavours both to mar the pageant, and to extinguish the evening bonfire raised in honour of Saint Helena.

But the beat of the nugáreet, and the voice of the herald beneath the solitary tree at Angollála, proclaimed the great annual foray as heretofore; and the plain below the palace hill was soon dotted with the black woollen tents of the leaders of cohorts. There were the governors of Bulga and of Mentshar, and of Morát and Morabeitie, and Efrata and Antzochia, and of Mahhfood and of Shoa-Méda, with all their subordinates, each surrounded by his own retainers; and the rear division of this feudal host was placed under the command of Besuenech, now governor of Giddem, the father of the king’s grand-nephew, who fell the preceding year upon the fair plains of Germáma.

Led on to victory by the holy ark of Saint Michael, the great crimson umbrellas streamed again through the barrier wall at the head of the Christian chivalry. Twenty thousand troopers pursued the route of the Sertie Lake to the Metta Galla, occupying the plains immediately contiguous to the valley of Finfinni, who were now the victims marked out for spoliation. The despot had so invariably passed this tribe without offering any molestation, that the heathen were little prepared for the thunderbolt that was about to fall, and of which the first intimation was afforded in the simultaneous invasion of the entire district. Overwhelmed by the torrent of desolation which had so suddenly burst in, four thousand five hundred Gentiles of all ages were butchered by the “soldiers of Christ,” and of these the greater number were shot from trees that they had ascended in the vain hope of eluding observation. Three hapless individuals were thus barbarously destroyed by the hands of Sáhela Selássie, who for the first time led his troops to the summit of the mountain Entótto—the ancient capital of Ethiopia—and, taking formal possession, appointed the arch-rebel Shambo to the government, under the title of “Shoom of all Guráguê.”

Forty-three thousand head of cattle were on this occasion swept away to replenish the royal pastures, and the rich prize had been obtained with the loss of only nine of the king’s liege subjects. Of the heroes who fell, one was torn by a lion in the deep juniper forest, and another basely assassinated by his comrade in arms, whose disfigured corse was subsequently left in retribution to the hyenas; whilst a third, a priest of extraordinary piety, and the father of the young page Besábeh, was transfixed by the spear of a Pagan who sat concealed amid the branches of a tree, beneath which the holy man rode in a rash attempt to secure a fugitive. The king’s Master of the Horse wore the vaunting green saréti for having achieved the capture of a child scarce five years of age; and upwards of one thousand captives, chiefly women and young girls, swelled the barbaric pomp of triumphal entry to Angollála.

I considered that the opportunity had again arrived, when a remonstrance from the Embassy would promote the release of these unfortunate slaves; and after reminding His Majesty of his noble conduct with respect to the prisoners taken during the preceding foray, I entreated him not to tarnish, in the eyes of the civilised world, the reputation he had acquired for mercy, but to prove, by his present conduct, that he was indeed influenced by the true principles of Christianity. Under Providence, my application was again crowned with success, and with a few exceptions, all were liberated without ransom. “I listen to your words,” said His Majesty, as he issued the fiat of release, “in order that the name of Sáhela Selássie may not be broken.”

Sad indeed are the atrocities perpetrated by the undisciplined armies of Ethiopia, when disputing the abstruse mysteries of Abyssinian divinity, or seeking, in the relentless fury of religious hate, to exterminate a heathen and stranger nation by a series of crusades, undertaken as an acceptable vindication of the sacred symbol of Christianity.

    “Her badge of mercy blazons half their shields;
    Sword hilts are fashion’d as memorials of it:
    This sign of man’s forgiveness leads to battle!
    Whilst every tyrant hangs its ensign out,
    In scorn of justice, from his battlements;
    Mail’d prelates march before it to the field—
    Priest fights with priest, and both sides under it!
    This sign and pledge of mercy!”

The people of Shoa have fully adopted that spirit of merciless destruction which impelled the Israelites to destroy their enemies from the face of the earth. Considering themselves the lineal descendants of those heroes of ancient history who were arrayed against the enemies of the Lord, they are actuated by the same motives and feelings which led the bands of Judah to the massacre. The foe is a Pagan, who does not fast, nor kiss the church, nor wear a máteb. All feelings of humanity are thrown to the winds; and a high reward in heaven is believed to await the king and the blood-thirsty soldier for the burning of the hamlet, the capture of the property, and the murder of the accursed Gentile. The words of absolution from the mouth of the Father Confessor usher in the ruthless slaughter; and the name of the Most High is wantonly employed to consecrate the ensuing scenes of savage atrocity.

That the minds of the people should not be more disturbed and alienated from agricultural pursuits, by the continual military expeditions which they are thus called upon to make, cannot fail to appear extraordinary. Probably the selfishness of the despot, in his appropriation of the lion’s share of the spoil, has exerted a salutary influence in checking innate restlessness; and the subject has been instructed in a rough school, that there is more profit to be derived from holding the plough than from wielding the sword: for it is certainly the fact, that when the foray is over, the war-horse is turned loose in the meadow, and the partisan willingly returns to his peaceful avocations in the field. But these campaigns bring annually a repetition of the most atrocious and monstrous barbarity, and none who have witnessed the unhallowed proceedings of the Amhára warrior, can fail to offer up a fervent prayer that the time may be hastened, when nations shall be knit together in the bonds of love, and when true Christianity shall reign paramount in every heart.

December had now commenced, but a dense gloomy mist still enveloped the hill of Anko, and torrents of rain continued to deluge the country, at a season when the smiling sun had been wont to shine over the land. The fair face of heaven was utterly obscured. The ripe crops lay rotting upon the ground; and as the inhabitants waded with difficulty through the deep mire which filled every street and lane of the capital, the exchange of mournful salutations was followed by a foreboding shake of the head at the daily increasing price of provisions. The season was unusually rigorous, and the soaked firewood sputtering upon the hearth, gave not out one atom of genial heat. On the bleak summit of the Abyssinian alps every thing was cold and clammy to the touch; and a searching wind, creeping up the damp sides of the hill, entered at each crevice in the mud wall, and rendered the situation of the inmates of the frail houses even more miserable than usual.

As the evening of the 6th of December closed in, not a single breath of air disturbed the thick fog which still brooded over the mountain. A sensible difference was perceptible in the atmosphere, but the rain again commenced to descend in a perfect deluge, and for hours pelted like the discharge of the bursting water-spout. Towards morning there came on a violent thunder-storm, and for some minutes the entire scene was fearfully illuminated by the dazzling fire of heaven; and every rock and cranny re-echoed from the succeeding crash of the hurtling thunder. Deep darkness again settled over the mountain. Suddenly the earth groaned and trembled to its very centre: the hill reeled and tottered like a drunken man; and a heavy rumbling noise, like the passage of artillery wheels, was followed by the shrill cry of mortal despair.

Dreadful indeed were the consequences of this shock. The earth, saturated with moisture, had slidden like an avalanche from the steep rugged slopes, and huge boulders, tilted from their muddy beds, were thrown into the glens below. Houses and cottages were buried in the dark débris, or shattered to fragments by these monstrous masses bounding on their course with terrific rapidity. Large trees were torn from their roots, and daylight presented to the eyes of the affrighted inhabitants a strange scene of ruin.

Perched upon the apex of the conical peak, the palace had, on the preceding evening, frowned over the capital in all the security of its numerous encircling palisades; but now, shorn of their bristling protection, those buildings that had not been overthrown, stood naked and exposed. Twenty open breaches, as though heavy batteries had been playing for a fortnight on the devoted hill, laid bare the approaches to the very porch of the banqueting-hall; and palings and palisades, forced from their deep foundations, lay broken and mingled together, strewed over the entire face of the eminence. The roads along the scarp were completely obliterated. Tall green shrubs reclined with their roots reversed among the wreck; and not one vestige of the fragile tenements could be discovered in the bare earthy tracts which disfigured the mountain-side, and marked the disastrous course of the treacherous slip.

The more vigilant inmates had, with the loss of all their little property, found barely time to rush from their houses, and huddled together in shivering groups totally denuded of clothing, had passed the remnant of the night in all the pangs of cold and terror; whilst in the market-place lay extended the stark discoloured bodies of numerous victims that had been already extricated from the slimy ruins, and were placed in the Aráda for recognition by surviving relatives, if any there were. The shrieks of the mourners added to the distress of the scene. The hymn of entreaty rose high in the mist from every church throughout the town; and bands of priests, carrying the holy cross, marched in solemn procession through the miry streets, beating their breasts and calling aloud upon Saint Michael the Archangel, and upon Mary the mother of the Messiah, to intercede for them in this the day of their affliction.

Sweeping desolation had spread for miles along the great range: houses with their inmates and household gear had been scattered in fragments over the mountain-side; and the voice of wailing from the green hill top and from the sheltered nook, announced the many victims that were thus immaturely buried in the dark bosom of the earth. The destruction varied considerably according to situation and locality. Some villages were entirely smothered under the descending tons of heavy wet soil, and the inhabitants of others grieved only for their cattle, their crops, and their farm-steading; but the loss of life and property was altogether immense; and although the tremulous shock had been before frequently experienced, a similar to the present calamity had not befallen the country within the memory of man.

For many nights afterwards, as the thick mist still continued to enfold the mountain in its dark shroud, and the sloppy rain plashed heavily over the denuded rocks, the air at the close of each dull evening was filled with the plaintive sounds of hymn and prayer. The deep voice of the priesthood pealed incessantly from the churches; and groups of bewildered females, collected in every corner of the streets, bowed themselves to the ground, whilst calling in strangely wild cadence upon the Virgin, who is the Mediator, and upon all the saints and guardian angels, to preserve the believers in Christ from impending ruin—for the wise men who deal in sorcery had proclaimed that the present throe was only the harbinger of the wrath of Heaven, which would one day sweep the high mountain of Anko with all her inhabitants utterly from the face of the earth.