Narrative of Captivity in Abyssinia | Page 5

them to join him in his

crusade against the Mussulman race. A few passages selected from his
letter to our Queen will prove the correctness of this assertion. "By his
power (of God) I drove away the Gallas. But for the Turks, I have told
them to leave the land of my ancestors. They refuse!" He mentions the
death of Plowden and Bell, and then adds:--"I have exterminated those
enemies (those who killed Bell and Plowden), that I may get, by the
power of God, your friendship." He concludes by saying, "_See how
the Islam oppress the Christian!_"
Theodore's army at this time consisted of some 100,000 or 150,000
fighting men; and if we take as the average four followers for every
soldier, his camp must have numbered between 500,000 and 600,000
souls. Admitting, also, the population of Abyssinia to be nearly
3,000,000, about one fourth of the number had to be paid, fed, and
clothed by the contributions of the remainder.
During a few years, such was Theodore's prestige that this terrible
oppression was quietly accepted; at last, however, the peasants,
half-starved and almost naked, finding that with all their sacrifices and
privations they were still far from satisfying the daily increasing
demands of their terrible master, abandoned the fertile plains, and
under the guidance of some of the remaining hereditary chiefs, retired
to high plateaus, or concealed themselves in secluded valleys. In
Godjam, Walkait, Shoa, and Tigré, the rebellion broke out almost
simultaneously. Theodore had for a while to abandon his ideas of
foreign conquest, and did his utmost to crush the mutinous spirit of his
people. Whole rebel districts were laid waste; but the peasants,
protected by their strongholds, could not be reached: they quietly
awaited the departure of the invader and then returned to their desolated
homes, cultivating just enough for their maintenance; thus, with only a
few exceptions, the peasants evaded the terrible vengeance of the now
infuriate Emperor. His immense army soon suffered severely from this
mode of warfare. Each year the provinces which the soldiers could
plunder became fewer; severe famines broke out; large districts such as
Dembea, the granary of Gondar and of central Abyssinia, lay waste and
uncultivated. The soldiers, formerly pampered, now in their turn half
starved and badly clad, lost confidence in their leader; desertions were

numerous; and many returned to their native provinces, and joined the
ranks of the discontented.
The fall of Theodore was even more rapid than his rise. He was still
unconquered in the battlefield, as, after the example of Negoussi's fate,
none dared to oppose him; but against the passive warfare of the
peasantry and the Fabian-like policy of their chiefs he could do nothing.
Never resting, almost always on the march, his army day by day
becoming reduced in strength, he went from province to province; but
in vain: all disappeared at his approach. There was no enemy; but there
was no food! At last, reduced by necessity, in order to keep around him
some remnants of his former immense army, he had no alternative left
but to plunder the few provinces still faithful to him.
When I first met Theodore, in January, 1866, he must have been about
forty-eight years of age. His complexion was darker than that of the
majority of his countrymen, the nose slightly curved, the mouth large,
the lips so small as hardly to be perceived. Of middle size, well knit,
wiry rather than muscular, he excelled as a horseman, in the use of the
spear, and on foot would tire his hardiest followers. The expression of
his dark eyes, slightly depressed, was strange; if he was in good
humour they were soft, with a kind of gazelle-like timidity about them
that made one love him; but when angry the fierce and bloodshot eye
seemed to shed fire. In moments of violent passion his whole aspect
was frightful: his black visage acquired an ashy hue, his thin
compressed lips left but a whitish margin around the mouth, his very
hair stood erect, and his whole deportment was a terrible illustration of
savage and ungovernable fury.
Yet he excelled in the art of duping his fellow-men. Even a few days
before his death he had still, when we met him, all the dignity of a
sovereign, the amiability and good-breeding of the most accomplished
"gentleman." His smile was so attractive, his words were so sweet and
gracious, that one could hardly believe that the affable monarch was
but a consummate dissembler.
He never perpetrated a deed of treachery or cruelty without pleading
some specious excuse, so as to convey the impression that in all his

actions he was guided by a sense of justice. For example, he plundered
Dembea because the inhabitants were too friendly towards Europeans,
and Gondar because one of