THE RELEASE OF THE ABYSSINIAN CAPTIVES.

Tuapeka Times, Volume I, Issue 20, 27 June 1868, Page 5

THE RELEASE OF THE ABYSSINIAN CAPTIVES.

(From the Special Correspondent of the " Times " of India. When, therefore, next morning dawned it found the English, occupying twc strong positions close under the foxiress. anxious for another and final brush with the brave army whose acquaintance they had not had sufficient time to cultivate the night belore. Theodoras, on the other hand, was organising an embassy to convey assurances of his friendship to Sir Robert Napier. As the Beloochees were crawling up the hill in skirmishing order, there to await events, a small paicy of horsemen was seen to descend from Magdala, and wend its way towards the English camp. With the aid of a good glass, a white flag of truce mrjht be descried flattering at its head, and the uniform of a British officer in the crowd. The news spread like wildfire, and before the group had well descended from the hill, the road between the outlying piquets and the head-quarter camp waß lined with spectators, all anxiety to hear the news. Nor was Lieutenant Prideaux at all reticent regarding the secrets of his prison-house. Cheer after cheer burst from all quarters of the camp, the enthusiasm becoming unbounded when Geu. Merewether and others of their friends met them and gave them war in greeting. It soon transpired that Lieutenant Prideaux, accompanied by Mr. Flad and one or two Abyssinian grandees, had come to inquire on what terms friendship might be cemented between His Majesty and the English. A"ter an hour or so they returned with the answer that Theodoras must give up every European captive in Magdala, and submit to the Queen of England, being guaranteed only honorable treatment for himse]f and family. In the afternoon the same embassy rettirned, bearing letters from Kassai — not from Theodorus, the anointed King — convening an expression of his ■will'ngness to give up the pi'isoners provided that the English would aid him to regain his kingdom, and afterwards leave the country. On no other condition would he listen to then* demands. It was an anxious hour for Sir Robert Napier, upon whose decision the lives of all the captives seemed to depend. It was hard to leave countrymen to what seemed certain massacre ; but there was no alternative between that and accepLing the conditions imposed by the vanquished savage. So Sir Robeit played the Roman, and Prideaux and Flad returned to the king without an answer. Sad was the parting, for they themselves and every one else believed that they weie taking a last farewell of the English camp, and had tasted as much of liberty as it was their fate ever to enjoy. His Majesty had also sent a present of a thousand cattle to the Commander-in-Chiof, but the sentries were ordered to keep them without the piquets ; short of the captives nothing whatever would be accepted. The prevailing sorrow wa3 3oon, however, to be turned into universal joy. One of the chiefs who had been in the English camp had strongly represented to the king the folly of attempting to contend longer, and assured him that nothing but ann'.Mlatkm iwaHed any army that might take the field against the force now at his gates. Hoping for terms, His Majesty had, dicing the embassy's absence, sent for Mr. Etassam and the rest, and "told them to »o ; so meeting Lieutenant Prideaux and Mr. Flad by the way, they all returned together. Mrs. Flad, being unable to undertake the jouney that night, remained, as also did the families of several jf the German artisans. On the morning :>£ Easter Sunday, a palanqirn was sent up to fetch the lady down, and by the lime conjugations in India were singing iheir Easter hymn, sounds of unmingled joy and rejoicing arose from the English jarap before Magdala. Every one of the japtives was safe and well — all of them, to the number of sixty-one, being unconditionally surrendered by the tjjant. Now, he thought, he had d rank the last 3raught of humiliation, and would be 3pared compliance with the latter half of the demand, that had been made upon him. Strong in this hope he wrote a very cwil letter to the Commander-m-Chief, apologising for his ladeness the day before, confiding to him how miraculously and meTc'fully God had preserved him from committing suicide, and sign- i ing and sealing the letter with the royal seal. In place of the remission he expected, twenty-four hours were given him in which to surrender himself and his all to Her Majesty, or be shelled out of his fortress before another sun arose behind it. Now he saw, when it was too late, the mistake be bad made in letting the children of England go. He had not another card in his hand worth playing ; there was nothing for him now but captivity or death. The general impression was that His Majesty was a coward and a cur, and that he would surrender before the day of grace expired. Few thought that they should enter Magdala on the morrow over the dead body of Theodorus. At the morning and evening services in camp appropriate reference was of course made to the joyous events which had been taking place. There was no pomp of ceremony or harmonious chanting, but round a well-battered drum, in worn and ragged garments, with unshorn beards and faces brown from wind and sun, stood a few regiments of British troops. Frowning darkly above was the barbaric fortress whose natural scarped rocks had given to its savage owner much of his power for tyranny, and from which the long line of liberated captives had hardly ceased to string. Few and short were the prayers, and meagre was the service ; but every word seemed to us, as we stood on that bleak mountain plain, to be fraught with deepest meaning, and the few words spoken by Mr. Stern, one of those who had lived a living, death for three years in the grip of the tyrant above us, fell on the ear with deep pathos as he spoke of the resurrection and the life. The captives cannot be said to bear many traces of their long confinement. Captain Cameron is sadly broken down, but has mended considerably since his arrival in camp. In spite of the intense and increasing anxiety they must have endured during the past month, a few grey haira seem to be the only souvenirs

they have brought with them from Magdala. The Germans are, however, taking back to Fatherland souvenirs of another kind — beautiful Abyssinian wives and quivers full of children, the latter ai robust and noisy as any over whontf^e brawling Rhine throws its spray. ?£s» fact is, they had been living in luxury up there, and so far as tho ouisim and liqueurs are concerned, have reason to re* gret their being transferred to the JBritish camp. Tej, arrack, and choice wines are unknown here ; the captives could not be treated with cigars and cognac as they # had expected, and "■ What, not even ram ! " showed their surprise on being told that the army had been deprived of that beverage too. Had they asked for a glass of water, the probability is that, in nine tents out of ten, they would have been able to exclaim " What, not even water !" for supplies of that necessary have failed ; none can be had nearer than the iieshilo, seven miles off. We suffer more from want of water than ever we didatZoula. In point of kit, too, the majority of our new-made friends seem to be well off, requiring from half ft dozen to five-and-twenty servants to attend zc to the shore ; but, probably, their indents may be subjected to a little of the fashionable cutting-do\> a which hes been practised so pitilessly and successfully upon others. The caravan will statfc e»t route for Zoula to-morrow, provided with escort and officers who shall see after their comfort on the road. They will reach Annesley Bay in forty-one marches.