Narrative of Captivity in Abyssinia | Page 8

the small seed of the teff.] and red pepper, during fast days; of wât, a
kind of curry made of fish, fowl, or mutton, on ordinary occasions. On
feast days he generally gave large dinners to his officers, and
sometimes to the whole army. At these festivals the "brindo" [Footnote:

Raw beef] would be equally enjoyed by the sovereign and by the guests.
At these public breakfasts and dinners the King usually sat on a raised
platform at the head of the table. No one has ever been known, except
perhaps Bell, to have dined out of the same basket at the same time as
Theodore; but when he desired specially to honour some of his guests,
he either sent them some food from his basket, or had others placed on
the platform near him, or, what was a still higher honour, sent to the
favoured one his own basket with the remains of his dinner.
Unfortunately Theodore had for several years before his death greatly
taken to drink. Up to three or four o'clock he was generally sober and
attended to the business of the day; but after his siesta he was
invariably more or less intoxicated. In his dress he was generally very
simple, wearing only the ordinary shama, [Footnote: A white cotton
cloth, with a red border, woven in the country.] native-made trousers,
and a European white shirt; no shoes, no covering to the head. His
rather long hair--for an Abyssinian--was divided in three large plaits,
and allowed to fall on his neck in three plaited tails. Of late he had
greatly neglected his hair; for months it had not been plaited; and to
show the grief he felt on account of the "badness" of his people, he
would not allow it to be besmeared with the heavy coating of butter in
which Abyssinians delight. On one occasion he apologized to us for the
simplicity of his dress. He told us that, during the few years of peace
that followed the conquest of the country, he used often to appear in
public as a king should do; but since he had been by the bad disposition
of his people obliged to wage constant war against them, he had
adopted the soldier's raiments, as more becoming his altered fortune.
However, after his fall became imminent, he on several occasions clad
himself in gorgeous costumes, in shirts and mantles of rich brocaded
silks, or of gold-embroidered velvet. He did so, I believe, to influence
his people. They knew that he was poor, and though he hated pomp in
his own attire, he desired to impress on his few remaining followers
that though fallen he was still "the King."
During the lifetime of his first wife and for some years afterwards,
Theodore not only led an exemplary life, but forbade the officers of his
household and the chiefs more immediately around him to live in

concubinage. One day in the beginning of 1860 Theodore perceived in
a church a handsome young girl silently praying to her patron, the
Virgin Mary. Struck with her beauty and modesty, he made inquiries
about her, and was informed that she was the only daughter of Dejatch
Oubié, the Prince of Tigré, his former rival, whom he had dethroned,
and who was then his prisoner. He asked for her hand, and met with a
polite refusal. The young girl desired to retire into a convent, and
devote herself to the service of God. Theodore was not a man to be
easily thwarted in his desires. He proposed to Oubié that he would set
him at liberty, only retaining him in his camp as his "guest," should the
Prince prevail on his daughter to accept his hand. At last Waizero
Terunish ("thou art pure") sacrificed herself for her old father's welfare,
and accepted the hand of a man whom she could not love. This union
was unfortunate. Theodore, to his great disappointment, did not find in
his second wife the fervent affection, the almost blind devotion, of the
dead companion of his youth. Waizero Terunish was proud; she always
looked on her husband as a "parvenu," and took no pains to hide from
him her want of respect and affection. In the afternoon, Theodore, as it
had been his former habit, tired and weary, would retire for rest in the
queen's tent; but he found no cordial welcome there. His wife's looks
were cold and full of pride; and she even went so far as to receive him
without the common courtesy due to her king. One day when he came
in she pretended not to perceive him, did not rise, and remained silent
when he inquired as to her health and welfare; she held in her hand a
book of psalms, and when Theodore asked her why