The Ethiopian Millennium,the British Library,and Her Majesty the Queen

The opening of the new Ethiopian Millennium – as we all know – is fast approaching. In thinking of the Millennium we must think not only of champagne and fireworks, but adopt a visionary approach – and look to the future.

Members of the British Community have been asked to give their views as to how Britain can contribute to the Ethiopian Millennium Celebration. Taking this request to heart I answer it herewith.

I feel that one of the most valuable contributions Great Britain can make to the Ethiopian Millennium Celebration would be to announce the immediate restitution of the loot taken from the Ethiopian fortress capital of Maqdala in 1868.

Before looking at the details, and practicality, of this proposal let us look very briefly at the history of this long-standing issue.

Maqdala

The failure of the British Government to answer a friendly letter which the Ethiopian Emperor Tewodros sent to London led, it will be recalled, to his detention of a handful of British and other Europeans. This led in its turn to the dispatch of a British expedition against the Ethiopian monarch’s capital.
Tewodros, defeated in battle, chose to commit suicide rather than fall into the hands of his enemies. British troops, as the British historian Clements Markham observed, then “dispersed over the amba”, or mountain top, “in search of plunder”, and the Emperor’s treasury was” soon rifled”, According to Markham the loot contained “tons” of “manuscript books”.
The troops also broke into Tewodros’s principal church, that of Medhane Alem. The American journalist H.M. Stanley recalls that the loot soon covered “the whole surface of the rocky citadel, the slopes of the hill, and the entire road to the [British] camp two miles off”.
One of those present was Richard (later Sir Richard) Holmes, of the British Museum’s Department of Manuscripts. He subsequently recalled in an official report that the British flag had “not been waved… much more than ten minutes” over Maqdala fort before he had himself entered it. He shortly afterwards met a British soldier carrying the golden crown of the Abun, or head of the Ethiopian church, and a “solid gold chalice” weighing “at least 6 lb”, i.e. pounds. Holmes purchased them both for four pounds Sterling - quite a bargain on any showing! He was also offered several large manuscripts, but declined to buy these as they were too heavy to carry.
Auction of Looted Property
The British military authorities duly collected the loot from the soldiers. No small amount it was then transported – on fifteen elephants and 200 mules – to the Dalanta Plain, where a two-day auction was held, on 20 and 21 April 1868. “Bidders”, Stanley recalls, were “not scarce”, for “every officer and civilian desired some souvenir”, including “richly illuminated bibles” and other manuscripts. Holmes, on behalf of the British Museum, was one of the chief bidders. Stanley describes him as “in his full glory”, for, “armed with ample funds” from the Museum, he “outbid all in most things”. The sale raised a total of five thousand pounds, which gave each soldier “a trifle over four pounds”.

Taken to England

What happened, you may ask dear reader, to all this stuff which had needed such large elephants – and so many mules – to transport?
The bulk of the loot – 350 manuscripts - ended up at the British Museum (now the British Library), which thus, according to critics, became a receiver of stolen property. Other manuscripts were acquired by Cambridge University, the Bodleian Library in Oxford, and the John Rylands Library in Manchester. Six of the finest manuscripts were presented to Queen Victoria – and are now in the Royal Library in Windsor Castle. Two other manuscripts were presented, to the German Kaiser, and a third to the Austrian Emperor – it is now in the Royal Library in Vienna. A few other volumes found their India.
Other important articles of loot were deposited elsewhere, Two Ethiopian crowns, the above-mentioned gold chalice, and many fine processional crosses, were acquired by the then South Kensington Museum (later the Victoria and Albert Museum). Ten tabots, or altar slabs, and two huge marquee-type tents were also deposited there.
Making Amends
This looting, many of us would submit, had no justification in International Law: and Ethiopia’s New Millennium, we would contend, offers a suitable occasion for the British authorities to make amends.
In taking this position we would recall the words of the great British Liberal leader William Gladstone. Speaking in the House of Commons on 30 June 1871 he is quoted in Hansard’s Official Parliamentary Reports as declaring that “he deeply regretted that these articles were ever brought from Abyssinia, and could not conceive why they were so brought. They [the British people] were never at war with Abyssinia… he deeply lamented, for the sake of the country [i.e. Britain], and for the sake of all concerned, that these articles to us insignificant, though probably to the Abyssinians sacred and imposing symbols, or at least hallowed by association, were thought fit to be brought away by the British army”.
The Kwerata Re’esu
After Tewodros’s death his successor, Emperor Yohannes IV, requested the restitution of an icon of the Kwerata Re’esu, or representation of Christ with the Crown of Thorns. This painting was highly prized in Ethiopia, and had for centuries been taken by the monarch whenever he went on campaign.
To obtain the restitution of this icon Yohannes wrote to Queen Victoria and to the British Foreign Secretary, Earl Granville, on 10 August 1872. The British Foreign Office, anxious to preserve its good relations with Emperor Yohannes, duly inquired about the whereabouts of the icon, which however could not be found – in all probability because the authorities did not search for it very enthusiastically. At all events Queen Victoria wrote back to Yohannes, on 14 December declaring: “Of the picture we can discover no trace whatever, and we do not think it can have been brought to England”.
Her Majesty was grievously mistaken. The icon, as we now know, had in fact been acquired by Richard Holmes, by then Royal Librarian at Windsor Castle. While at Maqdala he had appropriated it as his private property - but did not reveal this fact until 1890, after Emperor Yohannes’s death, when he published a photograph of it in the Burlington Magazine. The photograph bore the tell-tale caption: “Head of Christ, formerly in the possession of King Theodore of Abyssinia, now in the possession of Sir Richard Holmes, KCVO”.
On Sir Richard’s death in 1913 the icon was auctioned in London – and was once more auctioned in 1950. On that latter occasion the then Keeper of Paints and Drawings at Windsor Castle, Miss A. Scott-Elliot, realizing the icon’s immense importance for Ethiopia, tried to purchase the painting on Ethiopia’s behalf – but was outbid.
The story was re-enacted in 1996 when the British Embassy in Addis Ababa, celebrating its then Centenary, sought to procure the picture to present it to Ethiopia. The Embassy failed in its efforts, with the result that repatriation once again failed.
Restitution, which Emperor Yohannes, Miss Scott-Elliot and the British Embassy in Addis Ababa all wanted, was thus frustrated.

Lady Meux’s Initiative

The question of the Maqdala loot had meanwhile again come to the fore in Britain.
When Emperor Menilek’s envoy Ras Makonnen travelled to Britain to attend the coronation of King Edward VII in 1902 he was shown several of the looted manuscripts. He declared that he had “never seen any such beautiful manuscripts” in his own country, and that, on returning home he would “ask the Emperor [Menilek] to buy them back”.
Lady Valorie Meux, the most important private British collector of Ethiopian manuscripts, was also convinced that they should be repatriated. She accordingly bequeathed her collection of Ethiopian manuscripts in her Will, dated 13 January 1910, to Emperor Menilek. After her death, her Will created some furore in Britain- with The Times newspaper, that great organ of Conservatism. declaring that many people would “view with extreme regret” Lady Meux’s decision to “send her valuable MSS once and for all out of the country”. Her Will was thereupon overturned – on the ground that Menilek was dead when Lady Meux died. This argument was spurious in that the Ethiopian monarch did not in fact die until December 1913, and had in any case heirs.
The Will was however invalidated – with the result that the contested manuscripts remained in England. Lady Meux’s wishes were thus spurned – and Ethiopia was thus, we may say, robbed of its manuscripts a second time.

The Question at Issue

Returning to the question today at issue, Ethiopian Millennium, we contend that the event could well be commemorated by the return of the fifteen elephant and 200 mule loads of loot – from the British Library – and other libraries in Britain,
We feel that the authorities should hearken to the words of Gladstone, who “deeply lamented” that this loot was ever taken to Britain; and to the sentiment of Lady Meux, who sought, unsuccessfully, to bequeath her Manuscripts to Menelik; and to the wishes of Emperor Yohannes, as well as the wisdom of the Keeper of Drawings in Windsor Castle, Miss Scott-Elliot, and of the British Embassy in Addis Ababa, both of whom sought the repatriation of the Kwerata Re’esu.
Some may argue that restitution of the loot in the British Library cannot be effected without an Act of Parliament – but to this we would reply that the role of Parliament is precisely that – to pass beneficial Acts!
In any case no such Act is required to return the loot from other libraries in Britain.
In this connection I would recall the six beautiful Ethiopian Manuscripts in Windsor Castle – which are much larger and finer than any most of you, dear readers, will ever see elsewhere.
It is my earnest prayer that Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth should set the example, and lead the way, by returning those six notable Manuscripts from Maqdala.