1868: the destinies of Abyssinia were in the hands of Oromos, and now history repeats itself!
Posted: Sun Aug 26, 2018 11:28 am
Published in 1868, an account of the Oromos, from the perspective of an Englishmen...
’'The destinies of Abyssinia are for the present in the hands of the Oromos. In England is to have any more dealings with Abyssinia, they will be the other ‘’party,’’ those fierce and daring Mohammedan tribes who have long occupied the fairest provinces intervening between Northern Abyssinia and SHoa, and who have made of Enarea and Kaffa, Oromo republics and kingdoms. A long time ago, when Mr. Plowden first went on his strange and fatal mission, he found it hard to understand and disentangle the records of the dismembered royalty of Ethiopia; and since then the barbarous, romantic episode of the conquests, the rule, the wild enthusiastic visions, the despair, and the death of King Theodore (Tewodros), has been added to the bewildering history. The utter extinction in Abyssinia of the Christian faith is to be looked for, as a not distant result of the present ‘’innings’’ of the Oromos; but it would need a fanatic to feel regret for the substitution of El Islam, considering the utter degradation into which Christianity has fallen in those parts, and the hopeless failure of all missionary efforts.
The Oromos—of whom Mr. Plowden told us, in his official correspondence, laid before Parliament in August, 1866, that their men are brave and honest, and their women are beautiful, in all which particulars they present a contrast to the late king’s turbulent subjects; so strong a contrast, that one wonders a man of his character did not go over to his own enemies-are divided into numerous tribes, of which the Wollo Oromos are the fiercest and most restless. Among them are to be found the traditional fine horses and noble horse-manship which were among our few former associations with Abyssinia,--taking rank with Bruce’s living beefsteak, but pleasanter.
All of the Oromo country produces good horses, and all the Oromos ride well; but the Wollo horses and men bear away the palm; the former being wonderfully active, sure-footed, fearless, excellent on un-even ground, handsome, and spirited; and the latter splendid riders, with perfect mastery over their horses, and great fondness for them. The name given to each horse has a meaning, and great men and warriors are generally better known by the names of their horses than their own. In the country of the Wollo Oromos, the men frequently address each other as ‘’father of such a horse.’’ If one of them is so poor as not to posses a horse, he takes the name of one as his war-cry.
In battle, the horses know the nature of the contest as well as their riders, and not only turn at the right time, without the use of the bridle, and obey each signal, for speed or otherwise, with wonderful sagacity, but avoid the lances thrown in their direction by moving from side to side adroitly. The country of Amhara produces as many horses as the Wollo-Oromos country, but those of the Amhara are not so fine, and are somewhat differently managed. The Amhara master likes to have his horse always with him; he has no separate stable, but is tied between two posts, facing the centre of the apartment, so that the first sound one hears is the tinkling of bells suspended from his neck.
He is fed with barley flour, mixed with salt and water, and, if thin, with linseed and nook; the plant from which they extract oil. A recipe for fattening, considered infallible, is the dried meat of the malkoko, a little animal found in the rocks of the river, and neither rabbit, rat, nor guinea-pig, but something like all three. The Amhara people exercise their horses very little, and they are always too fat to please European taste. In the country of the Wollo Oromos, the system is different, and Semien is a colder country. Owing to the high state of cultivation, grass cannot be procured except by the very superior chiefs, and the horse is fed upon barley straw and barley grain as much as he pleases to eat, and this all the year round; while the corn is growing, if the owner be rich, he perhaps gives him from time to time a bundle of the green stalks. He drinks occasionally at the salt springs found in these districts; he is kept in constant and active exercise. The Oromo and his horse are as inseparable as the Arab and his ‘’steed,’’ so renowned in history and fiction.
To leave the Amhara country, and cross the Blue Nile into that of the Oromo country, is to exchange, within a few hours, the climate of Italy for that of Bengal. The crossing of the Nile is not a pleasant operation, as it has to be performed by swimming over on the back of a sheep, attended by numerous natives with torches, while others line the banks, shouting, and throwing stones at the crocodiles. Arrived on the Oromo side of the Nile, the scenery changes utterly, assuming an almost English aspect. No more sterile table-land and terrible ravines, but cultivated ground in well-marked divisions; magnificent trees, with graceful foliage and wide shade; neat beehive-shaped huts, and fine horses feeding tranquilly; while here and there a warlike-looking Oromo leaned peacefully on his spear.’’
[Every Saturday, Vol. 6: A Journal of Choice Reading, Selected From Foreign Current Literature; July to December, 1868 (Classic Reprint)
Pages 508-510]
’'The destinies of Abyssinia are for the present in the hands of the Oromos. In England is to have any more dealings with Abyssinia, they will be the other ‘’party,’’ those fierce and daring Mohammedan tribes who have long occupied the fairest provinces intervening between Northern Abyssinia and SHoa, and who have made of Enarea and Kaffa, Oromo republics and kingdoms. A long time ago, when Mr. Plowden first went on his strange and fatal mission, he found it hard to understand and disentangle the records of the dismembered royalty of Ethiopia; and since then the barbarous, romantic episode of the conquests, the rule, the wild enthusiastic visions, the despair, and the death of King Theodore (Tewodros), has been added to the bewildering history. The utter extinction in Abyssinia of the Christian faith is to be looked for, as a not distant result of the present ‘’innings’’ of the Oromos; but it would need a fanatic to feel regret for the substitution of El Islam, considering the utter degradation into which Christianity has fallen in those parts, and the hopeless failure of all missionary efforts.
The Oromos—of whom Mr. Plowden told us, in his official correspondence, laid before Parliament in August, 1866, that their men are brave and honest, and their women are beautiful, in all which particulars they present a contrast to the late king’s turbulent subjects; so strong a contrast, that one wonders a man of his character did not go over to his own enemies-are divided into numerous tribes, of which the Wollo Oromos are the fiercest and most restless. Among them are to be found the traditional fine horses and noble horse-manship which were among our few former associations with Abyssinia,--taking rank with Bruce’s living beefsteak, but pleasanter.
All of the Oromo country produces good horses, and all the Oromos ride well; but the Wollo horses and men bear away the palm; the former being wonderfully active, sure-footed, fearless, excellent on un-even ground, handsome, and spirited; and the latter splendid riders, with perfect mastery over their horses, and great fondness for them. The name given to each horse has a meaning, and great men and warriors are generally better known by the names of their horses than their own. In the country of the Wollo Oromos, the men frequently address each other as ‘’father of such a horse.’’ If one of them is so poor as not to posses a horse, he takes the name of one as his war-cry.
In battle, the horses know the nature of the contest as well as their riders, and not only turn at the right time, without the use of the bridle, and obey each signal, for speed or otherwise, with wonderful sagacity, but avoid the lances thrown in their direction by moving from side to side adroitly. The country of Amhara produces as many horses as the Wollo-Oromos country, but those of the Amhara are not so fine, and are somewhat differently managed. The Amhara master likes to have his horse always with him; he has no separate stable, but is tied between two posts, facing the centre of the apartment, so that the first sound one hears is the tinkling of bells suspended from his neck.
He is fed with barley flour, mixed with salt and water, and, if thin, with linseed and nook; the plant from which they extract oil. A recipe for fattening, considered infallible, is the dried meat of the malkoko, a little animal found in the rocks of the river, and neither rabbit, rat, nor guinea-pig, but something like all three. The Amhara people exercise their horses very little, and they are always too fat to please European taste. In the country of the Wollo Oromos, the system is different, and Semien is a colder country. Owing to the high state of cultivation, grass cannot be procured except by the very superior chiefs, and the horse is fed upon barley straw and barley grain as much as he pleases to eat, and this all the year round; while the corn is growing, if the owner be rich, he perhaps gives him from time to time a bundle of the green stalks. He drinks occasionally at the salt springs found in these districts; he is kept in constant and active exercise. The Oromo and his horse are as inseparable as the Arab and his ‘’steed,’’ so renowned in history and fiction.
To leave the Amhara country, and cross the Blue Nile into that of the Oromo country, is to exchange, within a few hours, the climate of Italy for that of Bengal. The crossing of the Nile is not a pleasant operation, as it has to be performed by swimming over on the back of a sheep, attended by numerous natives with torches, while others line the banks, shouting, and throwing stones at the crocodiles. Arrived on the Oromo side of the Nile, the scenery changes utterly, assuming an almost English aspect. No more sterile table-land and terrible ravines, but cultivated ground in well-marked divisions; magnificent trees, with graceful foliage and wide shade; neat beehive-shaped huts, and fine horses feeding tranquilly; while here and there a warlike-looking Oromo leaned peacefully on his spear.’’
[Every Saturday, Vol. 6: A Journal of Choice Reading, Selected From Foreign Current Literature; July to December, 1868 (Classic Reprint)
Pages 508-510]
