Travels in southern Abyssinia, Volume 1 (of 2) — A Reader’s Guide
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Arrival in Aden.—Preparations for my journey into 1 Africa.—Departure for Tajourah.—Stay in that town.—Unsuccessful endeavours to proceed farther.—Return to Aden
Arrival at Berberah.—Description of the town and 18 fair.—Departure for Zeila.—The town of Zeila.—Second visit to Tajourah.
Reception in Tajourah.—Arrangements for our 36 stay.—Occupation.—Amusements.—Geological character of the country.—Engaging camels for the journey.—Customs of the townspeople.—Public buildings.—Religious ceremonies, law, and justice.
Reception of visitors by the Sultaun of 61 Tajourah.—Arrival from Shoa of Demetrius and Joannes.—Ruins and remains of antiquity.—Preparations for our departure.—The day fixed for our start.
Journey to Ambabboo.—Halt for the night.—Journey to 70 Dulhull.—Stay at Dulhull.
Staying at Dulhull.—Journey to Segallo.—Halt for the 89 night.—Journey to Daddahue.—Attack of the Bursane subdivision of the Ad’alee tribe.—Halt for the night.
Leave Daddahue.—Journey through the Rah Issah to 107 Bulhatoo.—Halt for the night.—Journey to Dafarrè.—From Dafarrè to Aleek’shatan.—Journey to Alephanta.
The Salt Lake.—Journey to Gunguntur.—Scene of the 126 murder of three soldiers of the British Mission in 1840.—Halt.—Journey to Allulee.—Attack of the Muditu tribe.
Staying at Allulee.—Amusements.—More camels join our 148 Kafilah.—Introduced to Ohmed Medina.—Journey to Gurguddee.—Halt for the night.—Murder of a slave.—March to Khrabtu.—Proceed to Saggadarah.
Journey from Saggadarah.—Reach Bellad Hy.—Halt.—Journey 166 to Ramudalee.—Halt to receive the visit of Lohitu, Chief of the Debenee tribe.
Stay at Ramudalee.—Himyah and his matchlock.—Chase of a 177 hyæna.—Visitors from the Debenee tribe.—Guinea-fowl shooting.—Arrival of Lohitu.—Leave Ramudalee for the valley of Gobard.
Conversation with Ohmed Medina respecting the course of 195 the river Hawash.—Description of that river.—Its termination in Lake Abhibhad.—The various watersheds of the basin of the Hawash.—Comparison of present route with that of previous travellers.
Leave Gobard for Arabderah.—View of Lake 206 Abhibhad.—March to Saggagahdah.—Meet Kafilah of Mahomed Allee.—Halt for the night.
Description of the plain of Saggagahdah.—Dowaleeka 217 lake.—Effects of mirage.—Slave Kafilah.—Write letters to Aden.—Retire from camp with Lohitu.—Interview with Mahomed Allee.
Journey from Sagagahdah to Mokoito.—Meet old 229 friends.—Conversation upon the origin of the Dankalli people.—Journey from Mokoito to Ahmahguloff.—Description of halting-place.
Journey to Koranhedudah.—Pass Jibel Obinoe.—Plain of 245 Amardu.—Account of myrrh-tree.—Description of halting-place.—Singular solar phenomenon.—Journey to Herhowlee.—Bedouin village.—Bedouin ladies.
Stay at Herhowlee.—Dankalli sell their female children for slaves.—Pillar of sand and cloud of fire indications of rain.—Engage escort of Hy Soumaulee.—Comparison between modern Dankalli and ancient Blemmyes.—March to Barradudda.—Description of halting-place.—Religious discussion with Ohmed Medina. 258
Stay at Barradudda.—Milk diet.—Wound myself by 271 accidental discharge of my gun.—Bedouin skirmish.—Mode of warfare among the Dankalli.—Compensation for wounds and injured property.—Peace re-established.
Journey to Thermadullah.—Quarrel with Ras ul 285 Kafilah.—Cooking scene.—Dankalli improvisatore.—Camel saddles.—Stung by scorpion.—Account of some neighbouring hot springs.
Journey to Alee-bakalee.—_May 1st._—Journey to 300 Hasanderah.—Dankalli naturalists.—Large herd of cattle.—Architectural labours.—Mahomedan popular superstitions.—Sale of children.—A Bedouin father.
Purchase tobacco, with remarks on its use among the 313 Dankalli.—Make cover for hat.—Conversation with Ohmed Medina.—Journey to Bundurah.—Singular effect of refraction.—Joined by a party of Issah Soumaulee.—Description of their appearance and arms.—Affectionate inquiries of Kafilah friends.—Description of halting-place and country around Bundurah.
Journey to Kuditee.—Territory of the 331 Wahama.—Description of halting-ground.—Meet with party of friends returning from Shoa.—Strange request.—Custom of incising skin with sharp stone.—Influx of Wahama people into camp.—La Belle Sauvage.—Long discussion with the Wahama.—Differences settled, and allowed to proceed.
Journey to Hiero Murroo.—False alarm at 345 starting.—Necessity for being prepared for strife in Adal.—Abu Bukeree, Sheik of the second Debenee tribe.—Old friend of Lieut. Barker.—Offered marriage.—Stay at Hiero Murroo.—Find abandoned property of the Mission.—Negotiations for its restoration.—Joined by Wahama Kafilah.
Delay in giving up the recovered stores.—Interview with 360 father of Mahomed Allee.—Accompany him to kraal.—Entertainment there.—Condition of the stores.—Murder in our camp.—Occupation of Kafilah people during long halts.—Game of gubertah.—Muditu visitors.—Expected attack.—Bedouins feasting.—Portion of entrail around the neck of a Bedouin, not for ornament, but use.—Amusements.
Journey to Mettah.—Conversation upon different roads 380 through Adal to Shoa.—Commercial jealousy between the Muditu and the Dankalli.—Battle of Hihillo.—Surprise sleeping friend.—Frighten my servant, Allee.—Halt near Assa-hemerah kraal.
Journey to Murroo.—Remarks upon the climate of 391 Adal.—Pass some small extinct volcanoes.—A little farriery.—Cautions for practitioners of medicine resident among the Dankalli.—Halt for a short time at Kuma.—Second visit of Abu Bukeree.—Proceed to Murroo.—Halt near kraal of Durtee Ohmed, Sheik of the Sidee Ahbreu tribe
Amusements during stay at Murroo.—Bull fight.—Eating 408 raw meat.—Another offer of marriage.—Strange mode of dressing the hair.—Caution to travellers; perhaps unnecessary.
Journey to Sakeitaban.—Visit to Durtee Ohmed.—Halt at 418 Sakeitaban.—Proceed to Mullu.—Bad road.—Threats of assassination.—Shields of the Dankalli, and care of their arms.—Arrive at Mullu.—Write letter to Ankobar.
Journey to Annee.—Proceed over Plain of Mullu.—Halt in 431 sight of Berdudda.—Muditu kraal and funeral.—Hare hunt.—Arrive at Annee.—Muditu visitors.—Moonlight scene.—Stay at Berdudda.—Visit to camp of Hittoo Galla women.—Attack of formidable caterpillar.—Situation of halting-place at Annee.
Journey to How.—Aleekduggee Sageer.—Immense 445 Kafilah.—Water-cure for determination of blood to the head.—Attack of the Galla.—Display of forces.—Ras ul Kafilah balances profit and loss so far.
Journey to Mulkukuyu.—Forest on the right bank of the 455 Hawash.—The ford of Mulkukuyu.—Passage of the river.—Congratulations.—Scorpion hunting.—Visit the Hippopotamus lake.—Journey to Azbotee.—Lee Adu.—Change in character of the country.—View of the table-land of Abyssinia.—The so-called Abyssinian Alps.—Reflections.
Journey from Azbotee to Dinnomalee.—Start with escort 474 in the night.—Pass Sheik’s tomb.—Reach Kokki.—Wahama town.—Arrive at Dinnomalee.—Detained by Custom-house officers.—Get to Farree.—Accommodations.—Hospitable reception.
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TRAVELS IN SOUTHERN ABYSSINIA, ETC.
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Arrival in Aden.—Preparations for my journey into Africa.—Departure for Tajourah.—Stay in that town.—Unsuccessful endeavours to proceed farther.—Return to Aden.—Time, from 24th of December to the 1st of March.
I ARRIVED in Aden on the 24th of December, 1841, very ill indeed; having been suffering for nearly two months from a severe intermittent fever, contracted in Bombay. I was advised to proceed at once to England for the benefit of my health, but having letters of introduction from the Indian Government to Capt. Haines, the political agent in Aden, and also to Capt. Harris, our ambassador at that time to the court of Shoa, in Abyssinia, which were calculated to assist me materially in my intention of penetrating into Africa, I persisted in my determination, under all circumstances, to carry out a resolution formed two years before of exploring some portion of that interesting, but as yet little known continent.
Circumstances detained me in Aden nearly six weeks before I received the welcome intimation from Capt. Haines, that he was about to forward to Shoa despatches and stores for the use of the Mission, and as he kindly offered to put them under my charge, I gladly availed myself of the opportunity thus afforded me of commencing my journey most favourably as regarded both comfort and convenience; every requisite for such an undertaking being provided for me that the friendly care and the long experience of Capt. Haines and the assistant political agent, C. J. Cruttenden, Esq., could suggest. Mr. Hatchetoor, an active and intelligent agent, who had been appointed to transact all business with the chiefs connected with the transit of stores and despatches through the Adal country, was also instructed to accompany me to Tajourah, a small seaport, on the opposite African coast, from whence the two proceeding kafilahs connected with the Embassy had started into the interior.
A Portuguese servant, named Antonio, who had been engaged to accompany me, hearing of the sad fate of three European soldiers belonging to Capt. Harris’s party, and who were killed during the night, a few days’ journey inland, and of the still more recent murder of three of Mr. Hatchetoor’s native servants, when last he visited Tajourah, became so alarmed that he deserted; perhaps fortunately for me, as I was thus spared the trouble and risk of engaging in any quarrels that might have arisen with the natives on his account. As presents and peace-offerings to the numerous petty chieftains of the various tribes of Dankalli, among whom my road lay, I was provided with ten bags of rice, a large box containing several pieces of white and red calico, some figured chintz, and a few cotton handkerchiefs of every gaudy colour, besides an abundant supply of needles and paper, which constituted the material for minor gifts to be made to a more numerous class of supplicants, the women and inferior people.
Our arrangements being completed, Mr. Hatchetoor and myself proceeded on board the brig-of-war Euphrates, commanded by Lieut. John Young, of the Indian navy, who had received orders to convey us to Tajourah.
We were no sooner on board than the anchor was weighed, and we started on our short voyage across the Sea of Babel Mandeb. In consequence of the weak state of my health, I remained on deck no longer than to witness our passage out of the beautiful and commodious harbour called Back Bay, which extends to the westward of the low narrow isthmus, and nearly circular base of the extinct volcano _razè_ of Aden. We arrived in sight of Tajourah by sunrise the next morning; but it was not until nearly three o’clock in the afternoon that we anchored in front of that town. The sails being furled, a salute of seven guns was fired by the brig, but some time elapsed before any notice was taken of the honour by the people on shore, a delay which was soon accounted for by _Sultaun Ebin Mahomed_, the Sheik of the town, sending on board for some gunpowder to enable him to return the compliment.
Capt. Young and Mr. Hatchetoor landed almost immediately. I remained for the present on board, as it was considered impolitic for me to appear desirous of passing through the Adal country until some positive information could be obtained respecting the second division of stores which had been sent up to Abyssinia some months before under the charge of Mr. Bernatz, the artist, and the assistant surveyor, Mr. Scott, respecting which none but the most disastrous accounts had been received in Aden. On the return of Capt. Young to the brig, I found, much to my disappointment, that he did not feel himself justified, under present circumstances, in trusting into the hands of the people of Tajourah, several boxes and packages which were to constitute my charge. He also considered it would be highly injudicious in me to make any attempt to pass through the country in the disturbed state it was then represented to be. Part of the mail, however, he determined to forward, if possible, and had fixed the next day for another interview with the Sultaun to conclude some arrangements with him and his people that should at least secure the transmission of the public despatches to Capt. Harris in Shoa.
Tajourah is a small straggling town consisting of a number of low mat houses standing on the northern shore of a narrow bay which extends about twenty miles inward, nearly due east and west. The opposite coast is at least ten miles distant. From Tajourah, the bay contracts inland to a channel scarcely four hundred yards wide, when, suddenly expanding again, it terminates in a large irregularly formed lagoon, called Goobat ul Khhrab (the bad haven). In modern maps no appearance of this deep inlet, a very particular feature of the sea-coast in this neighbourhood, can be found, though in the older Portuguese maps it is accurately enough laid down. The ancients seem to have been well aware of the existence of the Bay of Tajourah, for it can be easily identified with the Sinus Avalitæ of the Periplus.
The sea immediately in front of Tajourah has received, from the generally unruffled state of its stormless waters, the name of Bahr ul Barateen, “The sea of Maidens;” which struck me as a singular correspondence with the name of the sea surrounding the ancient city of Carthage, which from the map appended to an old school edition of Virgil, we learn was called by the Romans, _Mare Nympharum_, the poetical Latin translation of the Arabic, Bahr ul Barateen. Tajourah, it must be observed, also being the present name of a village situated very near to the ruins of that once powerful seat of Phœnician commerce.
On the occasion of this visit, much opportunity was not afforded me of observing the character either of the country or of the people, as I landed but twice, and then under the closest surveillance of a brother of the Sultaun, named Isaak, who professed to be greatly alarmed for my safety during these visits; and although at the time I deemed his attendance to proceed from any but generous motives, I have since had reason to believe that his representations of the danger I incurred by rambling about the neighbourhood without the protection of some powerful native were founded upon truth, and from a desire that no cause of ill-feeling between their little town and the English should occur, if by any possibility it could be avoided. As I before observed, three of Mr. Hatchetoor’s servants were murdered during the night, on the last occasion of our intercourse with the inhabitants; and Isaak, though I felt his presence to be a restraint upon my actions, was quite right for thus persisting to accompany me on even the most trifling occasions, to prevent the recurrence of what he, half savage as he was, felt to be an untoward event.
An opportunity offering itself, Capt. Young introduced me to the Sultaun of Tajourah. He was a man at least sixty years of age; round his closely shaven head was wrapped a dirty white muslin turban, beneath which was a very light Arab skull cap of open wicker-work, made of the mid rib of the palm leaf. Naked to his waist, over the right shoulder and across his chest, was slung a broad belt of amulets, consisting of numerous packages the size of a small cartouche-box, alternately of red cloth and of leather, each of which contained some written charm against every evil that he feared, or for every desirable good. A common checked cotton fotah, or cloth, reaching to the knees, was fastened around his middle by a leathern belt, in which was secured a very handsome sword of silver, and completed his dress. In his hand he held a light spear, that served to support his long spare figure as he walked, or sometimes to chastise a rebellious urchin, or vituperative female of his household, by dropping the heavily iron tipped end not very gently on their heads and shoulders. But little attention was paid to him by his tribe beyond the simple acknowledgment of him as their chief, and the title was only valuable as a legal excuse for demanding from merchants and strangers some paltry present, which alone constitutes, as far as I could observe, the revenue of the state of Tajourah.
Beyond the limits of the town, the authority of the Sultaun was disclaimed; and, in fact, it was very evident that to hold quiet possession of the town, a species of black mail was extorted from him and the inhabitants by the Bedouins of the surrounding country.
The palace of the Sultaun Ebin Mahomed, who was familiarly styled by his subjects, “Shabah” (old man), consisted of two rooms, placed at right angles to each other, the walls of which consisted of mats made of the plaited palm leaf, stretched upon a slight frame of sticks. The roofs also were of similar material. The whole was enclosed by a fence about six feet high, consisting of dry sticks, also covered with mats.
Screens of these suspended mats divided the larger of the two rooms into four compartments, which were severally used as the harem, store-room, the family sleeping-room, and the audience-chamber, if such imposing designations may with propriety be bestowed upon the squalid menage of the chief of Tajourah. In the other room was the oven, or rather kiln, for baking; a coarse earthen construction, which resembled in form a large jar, inside of which was placed the fuel; when it was properly heated, large layers of unleavened dough, made from the meal of jowahree mixed with water, was plastered upon the outside, where it remained until it had dried into a heavy substance, well finger-marked, and looked sufficiently like a cake to satisfy the eaters, that they were, really, as they frequently boasted, so far in advance of their Bedouin neighbours, as to use baked bread.
There were also in this room a few wooden couches upon which the slave women were accustomed to repose during the heat of the day, when not engaged in grinding the jowahree meal, or carrying water from the well. At a short distance from these apartments, but within the enclosed court, was a singularly constructed wooden building that towered some six feet above the usual height of houses in Tajourah, being the cabin of a large bogalow, or native ship, wrecked in the bay, and which had been elevated upon untrimmed trunks of the date palm-tree.[2] A wall of matting carried round these posts formed a convenient lower room, which, with the cabin above, was usually apportioned to strangers visiting the town. To this extraordinary effort of native architectural genius, was attached a small yard, separated by a mat screen from the larger court; and here, at a broken jar, that stood in one corner, under the shade of a miserable looking henna-tree, the faithful of the household were always to be found at the stated times of prayer, performing their ablutions. At small apertures along the lower edge of the screen, close to the ground, were frequently to be seen rows of white teeth of startling extent, as the amused slave girl and female branches of the royal family sought to gratify their curiosity by taking sly peeps at the Engreez whenever they visited the Sultaun. The law court, if it may be so termed, was nothing more than an expansion of the lane in the front of the Sultan’s residence, carefully strewed with the small pebbly shingle of the neighbouring beach. In form it was oblong, and around it were placed several large stones, an old ship beam, and a trunk of the date tree, to serve for the seats of the principal men of the town on occasions of their public kalahims or councils, which were always held in this place. The Sultaun generally presided over these assemblies, his chief business being to distribute the coffee, which was rather stingily supplied to the parties present.
With respect to this wooden building, a recent traveller asserts that it is made of the hull of a British ship, the Mary Ann, which was attacked and burned during the night, in the port of Berberah, more than twenty years ago. To paint the evil one blacker than he really is, is not considered fair; and I do not see why the treachery and the violence of the inhabitants of a town nearly one hundred and fifty miles distant should be thus attached to the people of Tajourah without any foundation whatever. Another error that demands a positive contradiction is the statement that the fops of Tajourah are Soumaulee, with their hair stained red. One of the principal distinguishing characteristics between the Dankalli, by whom Tajourah is exclusively inhabited, and the Soumaulee of the opposite coast of the bay, is this custom among the latter people to change the natural colour of the hair, by a solution of quick-lime applied to it. Any Dankalli doing this would be certainly assassinated by his countrymen.
Charles Johnston opens his 1844 travelogue with a preface that frames the entire work as a personal gamble: he resigned a medical post in the East to travel across Africa, an ambition his friends questioned. The preface names specific patrons—Captain Washington of the Geographical Society, the Earl of Auckland, and Captain Haines in Aden—whose support enabled his journey. This network of official backing contrasts with the solitary, hazardous scenes that follow.
The first excerpt from the journey itself drops the reader into a specific moment: a halt near the Hawash River, where Johnston shoots guinea-fowl and collects a vegetable unfamiliar to him. The prose is precise about place names (Amardu, Koranhedudah) and natural details, signaling that the narrative will move between personal anecdote and scientific curiosity.
The Preface as a Contract with the Reader
Johnston’s preface is not a mere formality; it establishes the terms under which he asks to be judged. He writes that he “voluntarily assumed the character of an adventurer,” and that the value of his journey depends on the reader’s verdict. This framing invites scrutiny: the reader is to weigh the results against the sacrifice. The preface also reveals that Johnston prepared by purchasing instruments and an outfit, and that he sought introductions from the Geographical Society and the Indian government. These details hint at a methodical traveler, not a reckless wanderer. The dedication to his father, Thomas Johnston, adds a personal layer, suggesting the journey was also a filial offering.
Daily March and the Texture of the Landscape
The travel narrative proper is built around the rhythm of the march. In the excerpt describing the approach to Koranhedudah, Johnston notes that they had been “nearly four weeks almost daily marching” and had not reached halfway. This temporal marker gives the reader a sense of the journey’s scale. The landscape is described in physical terms: a long acclivity, a road “strewn with the everlasting lava cinders,” a circular spot surrounded by low black ridges. Pools of clear water and croaking frogs provide sensory detail. The presence of myrrh and mimosa trees, including one yielding gum arabic and another astringent gum, shows Johnston’s eye for botanical variety. He does not merely name plants; he compares them to familiar species, as when the myrrh tree reminds him of the common hawthorn.
Natural History as a Driving Motive
Johnston’s interest in natural history is not incidental but central. In the same excerpt, he recounts going in search of gum myrrh with Ebin Izaak, explicitly stating that he was “very anxious to procure specimens of the leaves, flowers, and seeds of the tree that yields this useful drug.” He notes that a description of the myrrh tree had long been “a desideratum in ‘Materia Medica.’” This remark connects his personal collecting to a broader scientific gap. He then provides a detailed botanical description, noting two varieties of myrrh tree, their leaf arrangements, flower structure, and classification under Linnaeus. The precision of this passage—down to the number of stamens and the shape of the calyx—reveals a trained observer. Johnston was a surgeon (M.R.C.S.), and his medical background informs his attention to useful plants.
Encounters with Companions and Local Knowledge
Johnston does not travel alone. The excerpts introduce figures like Ohmed Medina, who directs a Hy Soumaulee to gather a vegetable that the Banyans at Bombay are fond of. Ohmed Medina’s surprise at Johnston’s ignorance of the plant highlights the traveler’s dependence on local expertise. Similarly, Zaido appears as a camel-handler who stows the vegetable in a skin bag. These minor characters are named but not developed; they serve as functional presences in the daily routine. The text also records moments of shared activity: shooting guinea-fowl, lashing the dead antelope’s feet, waiting for camels. These details build a picture of a collective endeavor, even as Johnston remains the central consciousness. The reader is positioned alongside him, learning from his companions as he does.
Johnston’s narrative rewards a reader attentive to both the personal and the scientific. The preface sets expectations of risk and justification, while the journey itself delivers a steady accumulation of place names, botanical observations, and small dramas of travel. The excerpts suggest that the full volume will sustain this dual focus, moving between the immediate challenges of the road and the broader intellectual project of documenting an unfamiliar region. A first reading might profitably track how Johnston balances these two impulses, and how his companions and patrons recede or reappear as the journey progresses.
Sometimes I think of Johnston’s patient notes on the dry Shoa landscape, how he recorded every thorny bush and distant peak without rush. It reminds me of another book’s gentle way of holding place—Glimpses of Three Coasts — Key Ideas to Explore—where the shoreline feels less like a destination and more like a quiet, lingering thought. Both leave that same hush.
Michael Nelson
1 month agoWyatt Lee
4 weeks ago-
Devin Williams - 1 month ago
A solid historical document that offers a fascinating glimpse into 19th-century Abyssinia. The author's descriptions are thorough, though at times overly detailed, slowing the narrative pace. Still, the cultural encounters and the sheer adventure make it worthwhile for history buffs. A decent read for those with a strong interest in the region, but casual readers might find it heavy. -
Jean Mcdonald - 1 week ago
While historically significant, this book feels dated and occasionally tedious. The author's colonial-era perspective can be off-putting, and the dense, meandering prose makes it a challenging read. Some chapters are little more than dry inventories of flora and fauna. For modern readers, the insights are valuable but buried under excessive detail. Only recommended for serious scholars of the period. -
Stephanie Chad Oliver - 1 week ago
An absolutely riveting account of early exploration in the Horn of Africa. The author's detailed observations of the landscape, people, and customs are both scholarly and deeply humane. This volume paints a vivid picture of a region few Westerners had seen. The journey's challenges and the resilience of the local populations are captured with remarkable sensitivity and historical insight. A must-read for anyone interested in African history or classic travel literature.
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