The Loot from Maqdala
By Dr. Richard Pankhurst:-
The dispute, in the 1860’s between Emperor Tewodros II and the
British Government, led, it will be recalled, to the extensive looting
of the Ethiopian ruler’s mountain fortress of Maqdala, by British
troops.
The loot from Maqdala, which included several hundred valuable
Ethiopian manuscripts and many other Ethiopian artifacts, both religious
and secular, was taken, on 15 elephants and nearly 200 mules, from the
fortress of Maqdala to the Dalanta plain. There, as the Anglo-American
journalist Henry Morton Stanley reported in his autobiographical book
“Coomassie and Magdala”, an auction was held, on 20 and 21 April 1868
for two days.
The German Count von Seckendorff, who was also present at the
auction, states that the articles sold included “several golden and gilt
crowns”. Stanley wrote, apparently with greater precision, that the
loot included “four royal crowns, two of which were very fine specimens
of workmanship, and worth a round sum of money” (page 458).
The German Gerhard Rohlfs
Another German who was even more intimately involved in the story of
the Ethiopian crowns was the traveller Gerhard Rohlfs, whom the British
had appointed as an “interpreter” to the expedition. This was apparently
because he had access, as the modern Ethiopian historian Bairu Tafla
notes, to “someone who spoke Arabic and some of the Ethiopian
languages”.
Rohlfs in one way or another came into possession of one of
Tewodros’s crowns, and had it forwarded, by the Prussian Vice-Consul in
Suez, to the Prussian Foreign Minister Count Otto von Bismarck. The
later dignitary’s possession of the crown came to the notice of the
British Foreign Office, which approached the Prussian Ministry of
Foreign Affairs on the matter. The result was that King (later Emperor)
Wilhelm I presented the looted crown to Queen Victoria.
Some readers may ask: Why this crown should have been given to Queen
Victoria, who had nothing to do with it, rather than to the then ruler
of Ethiopia, Tewodros’s successor?
Wilhelm, however, had been on a visit to London long before this, had
formed a close friendship with the Queen an her Consort Prince Albert.
The idea of restitution of loot to an African country was in any case alien to European thinking of the time.
But let us now move down the years to the 1920s!
Ras Tafari Makonnen
On 28 September 1923, largely through the initiative of Ras Tafari
Makonnen (the future Emperor Haile Sellassie, who was then Regent and
Heir to the Throne), Ethiopia joined the League of Nations. On 31 March
of the following year, 1924, Tafari, once more largely through his own
efforts, had a first decree issued for the gradual abolition of slavery.
A fortnight or so later, on 16 April, he left Addis Ababa, on his
historic visit to Palestine, Egypt, and Europe. He was accompanied by
Ras Seyum Mangasha of Tegray and Ras Haylu Tekla Haymanot of Gojjam.
Some writers have likened Tafari’s travels to Peter the Great of
Russia’s visit to Western Europe a quarter of a millennium earlier.
Historic Ethiopia, which had long been isolated, largely on account
of attempted European interference, first by the Jesuits and later by
West European colonialist,s was thus forcing itself, willy-nilly, on to
the world stage. Whatever anyone thought, in Addis Ababa, Rome, Paris,
or London, there could be no going back to the past.
An Historic Journey
Leaving their sovereign, Menilek’s daughter Empress Zawditu, behind
them in Addis Ababa, the Regent and his distinguished party left
travelled to Jibuti by train. This was in itself an innovation, for the
railway line to the Ethiopian capital was then only seven years old.
The Ethiopian dignitaries then sailed up the Red Sea and through the
Suez Canal, after which they proceeded by train to Jerusalem, and Cairo.
They then took ship to France (where Tafari appealed for “a free
gateway to the sea” for Ethiopia, at the port of Jibuti).
Their trip took them, subsequently, to Belgium, Luxembourg, Sweden,
Germany, and Italy (where Tafari likewise asked for an Ethiopian
“gateway to the sea”, at the port of Asab). They then returned to Paris,
whence they made their way on 7 July, to London (where too Tafari asked
for “a seaport”).
The Disabilities of Women
The Regent’s arrival in Britain, quite unexpectedly, and by a strange
quirk of official British thinking, opened up the question of the loot
which the Napier expedition had taken from Maqdala, Emperor Tewodros’s
capital, over half a century earlier.
Britain, it should be recalled, was at that time still a highly
male-dominated society. British women, largely thanks to the
Suffragettes, had obtained a limited parliamentary franchise only six
years earlier, and was not to gain the vote on the same terms as men for
another four years. The British Government moreover was unaccustomed to
dealing with women who were rulers in their own right. The Foreign
Office was therefore at a loss how to honour Ethiopia’s reigning woman
ruler – the first, as some liked to claim, since the Queen of Sheba
-Empress Zawditu!
And yet the arrival of Ras Tafari, who was by then already in the
country, made it imperative for British officialdom to do something, and
that damned quick!
The Foreign Office Has a Bright Idea
Britain, having, as they believed, no suitable decoration for the
Empress, someone in the Foreign Office had the bright idea that she
should instead be given “Emperor Tewodros’s crown”. The brainwave was
duly conveyed to Mr. Ramsay Macdonald, the Prime Minister and Foreign
Secretary of Britain’s first Labour Government. He gave it idea his full
support.
On 7 July, the very day of Regent Tafari’s arrival, one of the Prime
Minister’s aides, Mr F.F. P. Adams, of the Foreign Office, wrote a “Very
Urgent” letter on the matter to the Secretary of the Board of
Education. This was because the latter was responsible for the Victoria
and Albert Museum, in South Kensington. This institution, together with
the British Museum, was one of the two principal repositories of the
loot from Maqdala.
The letter, we must agree, was in fact “Very Urgent”, for the Regent
was already on British soil- and would very soon leave it – to visit
another “friendly country”.
In this “Very Urgent” letter, Adams began by explaining that, in
connection with Ras Tafari’s visit, it was “desired to show the Empress
and government of Ethiopia some special mark of goodwill”, and added:
“More Satisfaction” than a Gift “from Any other Country:”
“In view of the ineligibility of women for the highest British
Orders, such as those which have been or about to be conferred upon the
Ras Taffari, the bestowal of an inferior decoration on the Empress might
be misinterpreted; it is, therefore, considered necessary in the
circumstances to give her a present. It is thought that the only gift
which would give her any real satisfaction, and which would also appeal
to all classes of opinion in Abyssinia, would be the restoration of the
Crown of Emperor Theodore, now in the Victoria and Albert Museum.
Whatever artistic interest may attach to this exhibit can be but small
in comparison with its historic and sentimental value for the
Abyssinians, and it is considered that the restoration would give that
country more solid satisfaction and gratification than any gift which
could be made to them by any other country”.
Adams ended his letter by stating that the Secretary of State would
be “glad to learn” whether the Board of Education would “see their way
to authorise the restoration of the crown in the event of it being
considered politically desirable to do so”. He added that, should the
Board be willing to authorise this act of restitution, “it would be
advantageous to inform Ras Taffari of the matter before he leaves the
country”.
An “early reply” was therefore requested.
Notwithstanding the urgency, thus underlined, no very definitive
action was taken for four full days. On 11 July, however, officials of
the Foreign Office rushed off to speak with Sir Amherst Selby Bigge, of
the Board of Education, from whom they learnt, to their surprise, that
there was, not one crown, but two, both of which had been taken from
Maqdala.
This posed a serious problem for British officialdom.
“Very Difficult Precedent”
Later that same day, 11 July, one of the Foreign Office officials,
Mr. J. Murray, duly reported on the visit to Sir Amherst Selby Bigge, of
the Board of Education, and what he had learnt from him. He noted:
“It appears that there are two crowns, the first a highly ornate and
rather barbaric headgear is listed in the Museum as the imperial crown
and if it is decided to return it to the Empress, it would probably be
possible to do so by arrangement with the Secretary of State for India
who, it appears, lent it to the Museum.
The Elgin Marbles
“The second crown, though less showy, is from an artistic point of
view the superior article. It is listed in the Museum as the crown of
the Abouna, but it appears open to doubt whether it is not really King
Theodore’s crown. This second crown it will be impossible to restore, as
nothing short of an Act of Parliament could get it out of the
possession of the Museum; besides to restore it would create a very
difficult precedent. We would be besieged with demands to restore the
Elgin marbles to Greece, not to mention other objects of interest which
have been acquired from time to time as a result of military operations”
Mr. Murray was thus giving Sir John Amherst a choice, which really was no choice at all.
The letter, which thus constituted special pleading for returning the
first, “barbaric”, crown, rather than the second, “superior article”,
continued:
“Would not actually Whet Abyssinian Appetites”
“If you think, after inspection, that the first crown… would serve
the purpose in view and would not actually whet Abyssinian appetites for
more and lead to demands for the second crown and a valuable chalice
which we acquired at the same time, we will take the matter up with the
Secretary of State for India. If, however, you are satisfied that
nothing but the second crown… would produce the desired effect in
Abyssinia then I am afraid we must let the whole matter drop”.
What Mr. Murray Did Not Say
What Mr. Murray, most remarkably, did not say, but what we now know,
is that the two crowns were of entirely different composition. The first
crown, which he proposed sending as a gift to Empress Zawditu, was
silver-gilt, with coloured glass decorations, whereas the second, which
he wanted to retain in Britain, was made of gold, and therefore
presumably infinitey more valuable.
“Great Sentimental Value”
The two crowns were duly inspected, and the first, “rather barbaric
one”, was duly selected, as one would have guessed, instead of the
“superior one”, which was duly kept in Britain.
This latter crown, according to Sophia Shirley of today’s Victioria
and Albert Museum, is made “mainly of high carat gold (more than 18
carat) alloyed with silver sand copper”, and, according to Louise
Hofman, also of the V. & A., weighs no less than 2,488.8 grammes.
That no doubt was the type of loot the British Government would have preferred keeping in England.
Rushed Off a Letter Urgently
On 14 July, 1924, which was a full week after Tafari’s arrival, the
Foreign Office accordingly rushed off a letter to the India Office.
Emphasising once again the need for urgency, it stated that King George V
would be granting their distinguished Ethiopian visitor a farewell
audience the following Friday, and that they were:
“anxious, if possible, that on that occasion His Majesty should be
able to inform the Ras that it is the intention to present the Empress
with this crown, which has great sentimental value for the Abyssinians”.
Urging this point, and forestalling any possible opposition to the suggested gift, the Foreign Office letter added:
“From the artistic point of view, the crown is said to be of little
artistic value, and, as far as Sir Ernest is concerned, there is no
objection to the course proposed”.
He therefore concluded:
“If you can persuade the Secretary of State for India to give his
consent, you will help us out of a very considerable difficulty. I
should be most grateful if you can let me know one way or another
tomorrow, Wednesday, as the King’s Speech has to be prepared and
translated into Amharic, which takes a little time”.
The Secretary of State, as expected, duly gave his consent, on the
following day, 15 July. The “rather barbaric” crown was then packed at
the museum that same day – and was therefore not in fact seen by the
Regent, or any of his compatriots, in the course of their visit.
A Treasury Minute
The British Government’s decision about the crown was meanwhile noted
in a Treasury Minute, which, explaining the need to give the Empress
the crown in lieu of other decoration, stated:
“The necessity for this gift arises from the desire of His Majesty’s
Government to make a suitable present to the Empress and the
ineligibility of women for any such orders as those which are being
conferred on the Apparent Heir to the Throne”.
Announcement about the Proposed Repatriation
The proposed repatriation was accordingly announced by King George,
in a brief farewell speech to Ras Tafari, on 18 July 1924. The King is
quoted in Emperor Haile Sellassie’s later “Autobiography” as saying, “We
are returning to you the crown of Emperor Theodore which the commander
of the British army at the time of the Magdala campaign had brought
back”.
Tafari, in a speech of thanks, widely reported on the following day in the British press (but not mentioned in his “Autobiography“) is said to have declared:
“I am deeply touched by this mark of consideration on the part of His
Majesty the King on behalf of the British nation. It affords me
particular pleasure to carry this token of friendship with me and I can
assure you that it will give the greatest satisfaction to Abyssinians
generally”.
Though he spoke of carrying the crown with him, the British had in
fact decided to have it returned to Ethiopia through their diplomatic
service.
A Faut pas by “The Times”
These friendly exchanges received something of a jolt, on 6 August,
when “The Times” published the above Treasury Minute. It revealed that
the “necessity” of the gift of the crown had been due, not to any desire
to return the loot as such, but rather to what the British Government,
imbued with its sexist traditions, considered “the ineligibility of
women for any of such orders as those which are being conferred on the
Apparent Heir to the Throne”.
Publication of this Minute greatly peeved the Foreign Office, where an official, Mr D. G Osborne, confidentially noted:
“It is unfortunate that this Treasury minute should have been
published, and still more that the Times should have reproduced part of
it.
“Neither the Treasury nor the Board of Education were consulted before publication.
“Ras Taffari was given to believe that the crown was the king’s
spontaneous gift and we can only hope that he won’t see the Times
cutting.
“I spoke to Mr. Russell [i.e. Claud Russell, the British Minister in
Addis Ababa] about this and, although he also regretted the publication,
he seemed to think he could explain the matter away if Ras Taffari
raises it with him”.
Tafari’s Own Comment
There is no evidence that Tafari ever saw the offending Times
article, or for that matter that he knew Ethiopia had been returned the
inferior of the two crowns.
Be that as he may, he chose to write of the return of the crown, in his Autobiography, as notable event. He observes:
“Although the capture of Emperor Theodore’s crown and its removal to
England in no way affected Ethiopia’s independence, yet to have it said
‘this was the crown of an Ethiopian emperor’ and to have it appear in a
foreign country did not please me. Hence H.M. King George’s gracious
permission that the crown of Emperor Theodore now be returned to
Ethiopia was, I conceived, a great mark of friendship; and since I felt
very pleased, I expressed to the king my profoundly sincere gratitude”.
The same arguments applied of course equally to the remaining crown,
but Tafari, then apparently then unaware of its existence in Britain,
did not mention it.
The Crown Returned
The “barbaric” crown, though mentioned in these exchanges, did not in
fact change hands, as some believe, during the Regent’s visit to
Britain. The Foreign Office decided, on the contrary, that, to attain
maximum publicity, its presentation should be carried out by the British
Minister in Addis Ababa.
Final restitution was in fact delayed, for almost a year. There were
two reasons for this. Firstly, because the British Government had
decided to make Empress Zawditu a rather ornate wooden throne, and it
was felt that the return of the crown should await the completion of the
throne, so that the two gifts should be made together. The other reason
was that relations between Ras Tafari and the British Minister, Claud
Russell, were then so bad that the Foreign Office decided to cut short
his stay in Addis Ababa, and that the gift should be effected by his
successor, Charles Bentinck.
The crown, as the latter Minister reported to the Foreign Office on
13 July 1925, was accordingly presented by him to Empress Zawditu, two
days earlier, on 11 July. Bentinck, who describes the ceremony as
“distinctly impressive”, drove that day from the British Legation to the
Imperial Palace. He was accompanied by his entire staff, and their
wives. They drove in two motor cars, escorted by an Indian escort
impressively mounted on horses.
Inside the palace itself, a small table was placed in front of
Empress Zawditu, and upon it Tewodros’s crown and its case were duly
deposited. The Legation’s guards stood, in correct military fashion, on
either side of the hall, and made way for Bentinck an his wife as they
approached the imperial throne. The British representative, and his
“madam”, then shook hands with the Empress, after which he opened the
case, and thus exposed the crown to full view of all the assembled
Ethiopian courtiers and officials. Bentinck then made a short speech, to
which Tafari responded, on the Empress’s behalf.
The above British diplomatic report, on which the above account is
based, was duly read at the Foreign Office, by Mr. Murray. He noted, on
18 August, that Bentinck had “managed the ceremony very well”.
Thus was it that Emperor Tewodros’s “barbaric” crown of “little
artistic value” was returned to Ethiopia, almost as an oversight. The
exisence in Britain of the “superior” crown, of high carat gold, was
conveniently forgotten. This beautiful crown remains, to this day, in
the Victoria and Albert Museum, whence its repatriation, after one
hundred and thirty years, is still awaited.
Source: http://www.linkethiopia.org
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