This book starts out as a look at the life, death and legacy of the Ethiopian emperor Tewodros II.
Born Kassa Hailegiorgis, Tewodros (well, Kassa) was a high-born Ethiopian soldier, but a soldier nonetheless. And he had such a talent for military campaigning that he took it all the way, becoming first a warlord general and then emperor.
Soon enough, however, the book becomes about Ethiopia generally. If for no other reason than the fact that you can't get a good sense of a crucial figure in history like Tewodros if you don't understand his context. And in the case of Tewodros, I think that context is the entire set of mythologies, histories, identities, idea and dreaming, if I can borrow a concept from my own homeland Australia, of Ethiopia.
***
All right then. That gives this book a nice, conventional start, don't you think?
But then, I do want you to keep you reading. And I suspect most people like a dash of excitement with their histories. So, let's right now foreshadow where we're headed. And to add a little colour, let's switch to storytelling mode for the remainder of this, the first chapter of this book. There is no harm in doing that, I think, when you are writing histories. In fact, I think it's vital. Especially if you want to properly engage in a place―or an idea, if a place is more than a place―like Ethiopia. So, let's get into it. Storytime.
***
Finally, after a six month campaign that for even Queen Victoria had cost a fortune, Robert Napier got to Magdala.
Magdala was the enemy emperor's mountaintop fortress and it could hardly have been more difficult to reach even in ordinary circumstances, let alone with enemy fighters who lived and breathed these impossible hills resisting you all the way.
But Napier and his army had finally made it. An incredible feat to be sure even given the limitless resources at Napier's disposal, who as far as I can tell had been ordered to "get Tewodros" whatever it might cost.
***
The Emperor Tewodros II, a soldier first and foremost who had led from the front in countless battles all his adult life, was now for all intents and purposes the last man standing in his own army. And right now he stood alone behind a haystack within his fortress compound, out of sight.
Years before, Tewodros had calculated that he and Queen Victoria should be allies, actually. Not at war with each other like this. They were both Christians, after all. And in any case, across Europe and the Mediterranean World, monarchs had much more in common with each other than they had with even their own peoples, didn't they? So who knew? Maybe the sky was in fact the limit. Maybe Ethiopian emperors could even find themselves back making pilgrimages to Jerusalem after all these centuries. Maybe, even, if England could offer to help Tewodros turn his famously brave fighters into a thoroughly modern (meaning European-style) army, he and England could even take Jerusalem back from the Muslims in some sort of modern crusade?
But no, alas. All that was lost, now.
***
Some years ago, as it turns out, Queen Victoria had presented Tewodros with a ceremonial pistol as a gift. Tewodros now lifted that very pistol to his own head.
***
The British soldiers were now inside the compound and were darting about, searching for the emperor.
When, from behind a haystack on the edge of the compound, they heard a shot. Two soldiers rushed to the spot. But they were too late. The emperor lay there, dying.
The soldiers drag-lifted the emperor into the main clearing of the compound and the British troops stood about, considering the body. For the emperor was dead, by now.
Considering everything they had been through, this was an anti-climax, more than anything.
And that was that, really, wasn't it? They might as well head home? God knows everyone had had enough of these blasted mountains and above all, the heat, the heat.
But first, came the orders: destroy this place.
The troops were only too happy to do so. It had been a long and hard campaign.
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