*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 60474 ***

[Illustration: MADAME IDA PFEIFFER.]




                                  THE

                             LAST TRAVELS

                                  OF

                             IDA PFEIFFER:

                  INCLUSIVE OF A VISIT TO MADAGASCAR.

                                 WITH

               An Autobiographical Memoir of the Author.


                     TRANSLATED BY H. W. DULCKEN.


                               NEW YORK:
                    HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,
                           FRANKLIN SQUARE.
                                 1861.




PREFACE.


It was at Buenos Ayres that I received the intelligence of the death of
my beloved mother. Shortly before her decease she had expressed the wish
that I should arrange and prepare for publication the papers she left
concerning her last voyage to Madagascar. The dangerous illness which
befell her in the Mauritius immediately after she had left Madagascar,
and which, in spite of the most careful medical attention, and the
kindest nursing on the part of her friends, proved fatal, prevented her
from doing this herself.

When, after a few months, I returned from Buenos Ayres to Rio de
Janeiro, I found my mother’s papers waiting for me there; but the loss
was too recent, and my grief too violent, to allow me to read them then,
much less to peruse them with the care and attention which must
necessarily precede their publication.

At length I made up my mind to the task. I was obliged to go through it,
for it was my mother’s last wish. Filial duty induced me to leave my
dear mother’s journal as little altered as possible. In thus giving this
last work of my mother to the world, I trust that our kind readers will
receive it with the indulgence they have so frequently extended to the
other works of the late enterprising traveler.

                                                        OSCAR PFEIFFER.

Rio de Janeiro, July 8th, 1860.




CONTENTS.


Biography of Ida Pfeiffer                                        Page ix


CHAPTER I.

Departure from Vienna.--Linz.--Salzburg.--Munich.--The Artists’
Festival.--The King of Bavaria.--Berlin.--Alexander von
Humboldt.--Hamburg                                                    41


CHAPTER II.

Arrival in Holland.--Amsterdam.--Dutch Architecture.--Picture
Galleries.--Mr. Costa’s Diamond-cutting Works.--The Haarlem Lake.--A
Dutch Cattle-stable.--Utrecht.--The Students’ Festival                51


CHAPTER III.

Zaandam.--The little Village of Broeck, celebrated for its
Cleanliness.--Strange Head-dresses.--The Hague.--Celebrated
Pictures.--Leyden.--Rotterdam.--Departure from Holland                63


CHAPTER IV.

London.--Paris.--Sitting of the Geographical Society.--News
from Madagascar.--Popular Life in Paris.--Sights.--A Tale of
Murder.--Versailles.--St. Cloud.--Celebration of Sunday               72


CHAPTER V.

Return to London and Holland.--Separation Festival in
Amsterdam.--Departure from Rotterdam.--My traveling
Companions.--Emigrant Children.--Story of a poor Girl.--Cape
Town.--Fortunate Meeting.--Alteration of my traveling Plans           87


CHAPTER VI.

Voyage to the Island of Bourbon.--The Mauritius.--Wealth of
the Island.--The City of Port Louis.--Manner of Life among the
Inhabitants.--Indian Servants.--Grand Dinners.--Country Houses.--Creole
Hospitality                                                          103


CHAPTER VII.

The Sugar-cane Plantations.--Indian Laborers.--A Lawsuit.--The Botanic
Garden.--Plants and Animals.--Singular Monument.--The Waterfall.--Mont
Orgeuil.--Trou du Cerf.--The Creoles and the French.--Farewell to the
Mauritius. Page 116


CHAPTER VIII.

A Geographical and Historical Account of the Island of
Madagascar.                                                          131


CHAPTER IX.

Departure from the Mauritius.--The old Man-of-War.--Arrival in
Madagascar.--Mademoiselle Julie.--Account of Tamatavé.--The
Natives.--Comical Head-dresses.--First Visit in
Antandroroko.--Malagasey Hospitality.--The Europeans at Tamatavé.--The
Parisio-Malagasey.--Domestic Institutions.                           139


CHAPTER X.

The “Queen’s Bath.”--Soldiers and Officers.--Banquet
and Ball.--Departure from Tamatavé.--Second Visit to
Antandroroko.--Vovong.--The Fever.--Andororanto.--Land and
Cultivation.--Condition of the People.--Manambotre.--The bad Roads and
the Bearers.--Ambatoarana.                                           157


CHAPTER XI.

Celebration of the National Feast.--Song and Dance.--Beforona.--The
elevated Plateau of Ankay.--The Territory of Emir.--Solemn
Reception.--Ambatomango.--The Sikidy.--The Triumphal
Procession.--Arrival in Tananariva.                                  173


CHAPTER XII.

Mr. Laborde.--Prince Rakoto.--Anecdote of his Life.--The
Sambas-Sambas.--Mary.--Review on the Field of Mars.--The Nobility in
Madagascar.--The Secret Treaty.--The English Missionary Society and Mr.
Lambert.                                                             187


CHAPTER XIII.

Introduction at Court.--The Monosina.--The Royal Palace.--The
Hovas.--Scenes of Horror under the Queen’s Rule.--Executions.--The
Tanguin.--Persecution of the Christians.--One of the Queen’s
Journeys.--Her Hatred of Europeans.--Bull-fights.--Taurine
Mausoleum.                                                           206


CHAPTER XIV.

Dinner at Mr. Laborde’s.--Foot-boxing.--Ladies of Madagascar and
Parisian Fashions.--The Conspiracy.--A Dream.--A Fancy-dress Ball.--An
unquiet Night.--Concert at Court.--The Silver Palace.--An Excursion of
the Queen. Page 222


CHAPTER XV.

Failure of the _Coup d’État_.--Prince Ramboasalama.--The _Pas de
Deux_.--Discovery of the Plot.--Death of Prince Razakaratrino.--Freedom
of Manners.--Irreligion.--Beginning of our Captivity.--A
Kabar.--Persecution of the Christians.--The Delivery of the
Presents.                                                            239


CHAPTER XVI.

Banquets in Madagascar.--A Kabar at Court.--The Sentence.--Our
Banishment.--Departure from Tananariva.--Military Escort.--Observations
on the People.--Arrival in Tamatavé.--Departure from Madagascar.--A
false Alarm.--Arrival in the Mauritius.--Conclusion.                 260





A BIOGRAPHY OF IDA PFEIFFER

(COMPILED FROM NOTES LEFT BY HERSELF).


Several biographies of Ida Pfeiffer are already scattered through
various encyclopædias and periodicals. These are based partly on oral
communications made by the deceased lady, partly on particulars
collected from her friends. No authentic sketch of her life has,
however, yet been published, though many whose sympathy has accompanied
the dauntless voyager on her dangerous way will doubtless be glad to
hear something of the earlier life of Ida Pfeiffer. In remarkable
people, the germs of extraordinary faculties are generally recognizable
in early youth; and those readers who have followed the course of a
remarkable life from its meridian to its close will doubtless be
gratified by the opportunity of casting a glance backward to its early
years, when the seeds of future distinction were sown.

This consideration will probably be thought a sufficient justification
for publishing the following pages; the more so as the facts given in
this biographical sketch rest exclusively on the authority of the
heroine herself. Madame Ida Pfeiffer left behind her a short outline of
her life written by her own hand, and her family very courteously
permitted this manuscript to be used. It is to be followed by a summary
of her travels, and by her diary in Madagascar, to which her son, Mr.
Oscar Pfeiffer, has added the narrative of her sufferings and death.
Thus the whole career of the late adventurous pilgrim, with particular
reference to the latest circumstances of her checkered life, namely, her
interesting and eventful voyage to Madagascar, will be placed before
the reader.

Our traveler was born in Vienna on the 14th of October, 1797. She was
the third child of the wealthy merchant Reyer, and at her baptism
received the name Ida Laura. Till she was nine years old, all the family
in her parents’ house, except herself, were boys, so that she was the
only girl among a party of six children. Through continual intercourse
with her brothers, a great predilection for the games and pursuits of
boys was developed in her. “I was not shy,” she says of herself, “but
wild as a boy, and bolder and more forward than my elder brothers;” and
she adds that it was her greatest pleasure to romp with the boys, to
dress in their clothes, and to take part in all their mad pranks. The
parents not only abstained from putting any check on this tendency, but
even allowed the girl to wear boy’s clothes, so that little Ida looked
with sovereign contempt upon dolls and toy saucepans, and would only
play with drums, swords, guns, and similar playthings. Her father seems
to have looked with complacency upon this anomaly in her character. He
jestingly promised the girl that he would have her educated for an
officer in a military school, thus indirectly encouraging the child to a
display of courage, resolution, and contempt of danger. Ida did not fail
to cultivate these qualities, and her most ardent wish was to carve her
own way through the world, sword in hand. Even in her early childhood
she gave many proofs of fearlessness and self-command.

Mr. Reyer had peculiar ideas on the subject of education, and carried
out these notions strictly in his family circle. He was a very honest,
and, moreover, strict man, holding the opinion that youth should be
carefully guarded against excess, and taught to moderate its desires and
wishes; consequently, his children were fed on simple, almost a
parsimonious diet, and were taught to sit quietly at table, and see
their elders enjoy the various dishes that were served up, without
receiving a share of those dainties. The little people were, moreover,
forbidden to express their wish for any much-coveted plaything by
repeated requests. The father’s strictness of discipline went so far as
to induce him to refuse many of the children’s reasonable requests, in
order, as he said, to accustom them to disappointments. Opposition of
any kind he would never allow, and even remonstrances against a
discipline that bordered on harshness were always unavailing.

There is no doubt that the old gentleman carried his system to excess,
but it is equally certain that, but for this Spartan education, little
Ida would never have ripened into the fearless traveler, able to bear
the heaviest fatigue for months together, living meanwhile on the most
miserable food. The chief characteristics of Ida Pfeiffer’s courage,
endurance, and indifference to pain and hardship became developed by an
eccentric course of education, which would hardly find a defender at a
time like the present, when every thing peculiar is hastily condemned.
The unusual, with its sharp outlines and deep shadows, disappears more
and more in the light of common-sense mediocrity, and the characteristic
heads that we remember in our youth gradually disappear, and are
succeeded by very rational, but somewhat tedious and commonplace
figures.

Ida’s father died in the year 1806, leaving a widow and seven children.
The boys were in an educational institution, and the mother undertook
the education of the girl, who was now nearly nine years old. Though the
father had appeared formidable to the children by his strictness, his
rule appeared to the girl far preferable to the melancholy _régime_ of
her mother, who watched the child’s every movement with suspicion and
alarm, and caused her daughter to spend many a bitter hour, merely from
an exaggerated notion of duty.

A few months after her father’s death the first attempt was made to
deprive the girl of the attire she had hitherto worn, and substituted
petticoats for their masculine equivalents. Little Ida, then ten years
old, was so indignant at this measure that she absolutely fell ill from
grief and indignation. By the doctor’s advice her former costume was
restored to her, and it was resolved that the girl’s obstinacy must
gradually be subdued by remonstrance.

The boy’s garments were received by Ida with a burst of enthusiasm, her
health returned, and she behaved more like a boy than ever. She learned
every thing that she thought a boy should know with industry and zeal,
and, on the other hand, looked with the greatest contempt on every
female occupation. Piano-forte playing, for instance, she despised as a
feminine accomplishment, and would actually cut her fingers, or burn
them with sealing-wax, to escape the hated task of practicing. For
playing the violin, on the contrary, she showed a great predilection.
But her mother would not allow her to have her way in this matter, and
the piano-forte was formally subsidized and maintained at its post by
maternal authority.

When the year 1809 came, a most eventful period for Austria, Ida was
twelve years old. From what has been said of her ideas and inclinations,
it will readily be believed that she took great interest in the fortunes
of the war. She read the newspaper eagerly, and often traced out on the
map the relative positions of the two armies. She danced and shouted
with glee, like a good patriot, when the Austrians conquered, and wept
bitter tears when the fortune of war brought victory to the enemy’s
standard. Her mother’s house was situated in one of the busiest streets
of the capital; and the frequent marching past of troops caused many
interruptions to study, and gave many opportunities for the expression
of ardent wishes that the Austrian banners might triumph. When Ida,
looking from the window, saw her fellow-countrymen march past to
battle, she would vehemently deplore her youth that prevented her from
taking part in the impending struggle. She considered her youth the only
obstacle that prevented her from going to war.

Unhappily, the French were victorious; the enemy entered the capital,
and the affairs of Austria were in a very bad way. The little patriot
had the mortification of seeing a number of the hated conquerors
quartered in her mother’s house, and evidently considering themselves
masters of the situation--dining at the table with the family, and
expecting to be treated with the most anxious civility. The members of
the household generally thought it best to keep up an appearance of
friendship toward the conquerors, but nothing could induce the girl to
look at the Frenchmen with favor; on the contrary, she showed her
feelings by obstinacy and silence; and when requested by the Frenchmen
to express her sentiments, she broke out in words of passionate anger
and dislike. She herself has said on this subject, “My hatred to
Napoleon was so great, that I looked upon the attempt of the notorious
Staps to assassinate him at Schönbrunn as a highly meritorious action,
and considered the perpetrator, who was tried by a court-martial and
shot, in the light of a martyr. I thought if I myself could murder
Napoleon, I should not hesitate one instant to do so.”

It is related that Ida was compelled to be present at a review of his
troops held by Napoleon in Schönbrunn. When the hated emperor rode past,
the girl turned her back, and received a box on the ear for her
demonstrativeness from her mother, who then held her by the shoulders
lest she should repeat the trick. But nothing was gained by this
manœuvre, for when the emperor came riding back with his glittering
staff of marshals around him, Miss Ida resolutely closed her eyes.

At the age of thirteen she again dressed in female attire, and this time
the change was persevered in. She had indeed become sensible enough to
acknowledge the necessity of the measure, but still it cost her many
tears, and made her very unhappy. With the garb of her sex, she was also
obliged to adopt different manners and occupations, and a new system of
life. “How awkward and clumsy I was at first!” she exclaims, in her
diary; “how ridiculous I must have looked in my long skirts, jumping and
racing about, and behaving generally like a wild, restless boy!”

“Fortunately, a young man came to us at that time as tutor, who took
particular pains with me. I afterward heard that my mother had given him
secret directions to treat me with especial indulgence, as a child whose
earliest impulses had received a wrong bias. He certainly behaved to me
with great kindness and delicacy, and showed great patience and
perseverance in combating my overstrained and misdirected notions. As I
had learned rather to fear my parents than to love them, and he was, so
to speak, the first human being who had displayed affection and sympathy
toward me, I clung to him, in return, with enthusiastic attachment,
seeking to fulfill his every wish, and never so happy as when he
appeared satisfied with my endeavors. He conducted my entire education;
and though it cost me some tears to give up my youthful visions, and
busy myself with pursuits I had looked upon with contempt, I did it out
of affection for him. I even learned many female occupations, such as
sewing, knitting, and cookery. I owe to him the insight I received in
three or four years into the duties of my sex; and he it was who changed
me from a wild hoydenish creature into a modest girl.”

At the period when Ida was compelled to give up her boyish character,
there arose in her the first wish to see the world. She turned her
thoughts from war and soldiering to fix them upon travel; descriptions
of voyages excited her warmest interest, and literature of this kind
occupied in her mind the place that, in the majority of young girls’
heads, is filled with thoughts of dress, balls, theatres, and amusements
generally. When she heard of any one who had attained celebrity by
travel, she would grieve to think that she was debarred by her sex from
the happiness of ever crossing the sea and exploring strange lands.
Often she felt an inclination to occupy herself with scientific studies;
but she always suppressed it, seeming to recognize therein a relapse
into the “extravagant ideas” of earlier days. It must be remembered that
at the beginning of the present century the daughters of middle-class
families did not enjoy the education they receive now.

An important passage in the life of Ida Pfeiffer shall be related in her
own words. She tells us:

“In my seventeenth year a wealthy Greek proposed for my hand. My mother
declined to entertain his offer because he was not a Catholic, and she
thought me too young for such a step. According to her ideas, it was
indecorous for a girl under twenty years of age to marry.

“A great change now took place in my character. I had hitherto had no
idea of the powerful passion which makes mortals the happiest or the
most miserable of beings. When my mother told me of the proposal made to
her, feelings of which till then I had been unconscious became clearly
defined within me, and I felt that I could love no one but T----, the
guide of my youth.

“I was not aware that T---- was attached to me with his whole soul. I
scarcely knew my own feelings, and far less was I capable of guessing
those of another person. When, however, T---- heard of the proposal that
had been made for me, and when the possibility of losing me arose before
him, he confessed his love to me, and determined to urge his suit to my
mother.

“T---- had devoted himself to the Civil Service, and had for some years
occupied a post, with a salary on which he could live very well. He had
long given up the profession of a tutor, though he continued to visit
our house as frequently as ever, passing all his leisure hours with us,
as if he belonged to the family. My five brothers were his friends, and
my mother was so fond of him that she often called him ‘her dear sixth
son.’ He was at every party in our house, and went with us wherever we
accepted an invitation; always accompanying us to theatres, in our
walks, and so on. What was more natural than that we should both
persuade ourselves that my mother had intended us for each other, and
would perhaps only stipulate for our waiting till I had attained my
twentieth year, and T---- had a better appointment?

“Accordingly he proposed for my hand.

“But who can paint our grievous surprise when my mother not only
entirely refused her consent, but from this moment detested T---- just
as much as she had before liked him. There could be no other objection
to T---- except that I could look forward to having a tolerable fortune,
while T---- had at present nothing but his modest salary. If my mother
could have imagined what was one day to become of my fortune, how very
different my fate would be from what she had sketched out for me in her
mind, what deep sorrow and endless grief might she not have spared me!

“After T----’s proposal, my mother wished to get me married as quickly
as possible. I declared resolutely that I would become T----’s wife, or
remain unmarried. T---- was, of course, forbidden to come to our house,
and as my mother knew how obstinately I adhered to my resolutions when I
was in earnest about a matter, she took me to a priest, who was enjoined
to explain to me the duty of children toward their parents, and
particularly the obedience the latter are authorized to exact. They
wanted to bind me by a solemn oath, sworn on the crucifix, that I would
not see T---- secretly, nor correspond with him. I refused to take the
oath, but gave the required promise, stipulating, however, that I should
be allowed to inform T---- of every thing. My mother at last made this
concession, and I wrote a long letter to T----, acquainting him with
every thing, and begging him not to believe any thing he heard
concerning me from other people. I added that it was out of my power
either to see him or to write to him again, but that if another suitor
presented himself and was accepted by my mother, I would at once inform
T---- of the circumstance.

“T----’s reply was short, and full of bitter sorrow. He seemed to
understand that, under the circumstances, there was no hope for us, and
that nothing remained but to obey my mother’s commands. He declared
positively, however, that he would never marry.

“And thus our correspondence closed. Three long, sorrowful years passed
away without my seeing him, and without any change in my feelings or
position.

“Walking one day with a friend of my mother’s, I met T---- by chance. We
both stopped involuntarily, but for a long time neither he nor I could
utter a word. At last he conquered his emotion, and asked after my
health. I was too deeply moved to be able to reply. My knees trembled,
and I felt ready to sink into the earth. I seized my companion by the
arm and drew her away with me, and rushed home, scarcely conscious of
what I was doing. Two days afterward I was stretched on my couch in a
burning fever.

“The physician who was called in seemed to have a suspicion of the cause
of my illness, and declared to my mother, as I afterward heard, that the
source of evil was mental, not bodily; that medicines would be of little
avail in my case, and that every effort must be directed.... But my
mother persisted in following her own course, and told the physician she
could not alter any thing about me.”

The patient’s life hung for a long time in the balance, and in her
fevered state of mind she wished ardently for death. When by chance she
heard from an indiscreetly-communicative nurse that her dissolution was
daily expected, this intelligence produced such a quieting effect that
she sank into a deep slumber, and the crisis of her disease was happily
passed.

Ida’s father had left a considerable fortune, and there was no lack of
suitors for her hand. She refused every offer, however, and thereby
increased the discomfort of her position at home, for her mother
insisted more and more strongly upon Ida’s making her choice. These
domestic broils at length broke the girl’s spirit, and any fate seemed
to her preferable to the continuance of such a state of things. She
accordingly declared herself ready to accept the next proposal that
should be made, provided the suitor was of advanced age. She wished to
convince T---- that moral coercion, and not her own inclination, had
impelled her to take this course.

In the year 1819, when Ida was twenty-two years old, Doctor Pfeiffer,
one of the most distinguished advocates in Lemberg, and a widower,
moreover, with a grown-up son, was introduced to the Reyers. He staid in
Vienna a few days for professional purposes, and at his departure
recommended his son, who was studying law at the University of Vienna,
to the notice of the family.

About four weeks afterward came a letter from Dr. Pfeiffer, containing a
formal proposal for Ida’s hand. As he had only exchanged a few words
with her on totally unimportant subjects, she had not the least
anticipation of an offer in that direction; but her mother did not fail
to remind her of the promise she had made to accept the next suitor who
came forward.

“I promised to consider the matter,” she says in her diary. “Dr.
Pfeiffer seemed to me a very intelligent, well-educated man; but a
circumstance that told far more in his favor in my estimation was that
he lived a hundred miles from Vienna, and was twenty-four years older
than I.”

A week afterward she consented to the marriage on the condition that she
should be allowed to acquaint Dr. Pfeiffer with the real state of her
affections. This she did in a long letter, in which she concealed
nothing from her suitor, evidently indulging the hope that he would
abandon his pursuit of her; but Dr. Pfeiffer at once replied, expressing
himself not in the least surprised to hear that a maiden of twenty-two
years had already loved. The honest, candid avowal of this passage in
her life made Ida appear in his eyes all the more worthy of respect; and
he avowed his intention of persisting in his suit, feeling assured that
he should never have cause to regret it.

The difficult duty of acquainting T---- with this change in her destiny
now devolved upon Ida. This duty she fulfilled by means of a few lines,
and it will readily be imagined that they were painful ones. The answer
was conceived in the manliest spirit, full of self-abnegation and
nobility of mind. T---- repeatedly declared that he would never forget
her, and would never marry. He kept his word.

The marriage with Dr. Pfeiffer was celebrated on the 1st of May, 1820,
and a week afterward the newly-wedded couple departed for Lemberg. The
journey brought relief by reviving in the young wife the old
predilection for traveling, and allowing the pair an opportunity of
becoming better acquainted. Ida found that her husband possessed high
principle, candor, and intelligence; and if it was beyond her power to
love him, she could not withhold from him respect and hearty
appreciation, especially as he showed as much affection as delicacy in
his conduct toward her. She was resolved to fulfill her duties
honorably, and looked forward with a certain amount of tranquillity to
the future.

Dr. Pfeiffer was one of those straightforward, independent-spirited men
who attack and expose wrong wherever they find it, and make no secret of
their sentiments.

In the official routine in Galicia in those days there were many weak
points, and the number of dishonest and venal employés was not small. In
an important lawsuit which he brought to a triumphant conclusion, Dr.
Pfeiffer discovered peculation of the gravest kind. This he fearlessly
and unflinchingly denounced to the highest authorities in Vienna. An
investigation was ordered; Dr. Pfeiffer’s accusations were found to be
well-grounded, and several officials were dismissed, and others moved.

Very disagreeable results, however, accrued to Dr. Pfeiffer himself. By
his report of these delinquencies he had drawn down upon himself the
enmity of the majority of official personages; and this enmity was so
frequently and so openly manifested, that Dr. Pfeiffer found himself
compelled to resign his appointment as councilor, for he found that his
advocacy, so far from benefiting his clients, became absolutely
prejudicial to their interests.

“My husband,” writes Ida Pfeiffer, “had foreseen all this; but it went
against his nature to shut his eyes to flagrant injustice. In the same
year he resigned his office, and, after he had arranged his private
affairs, we removed, in 1821, to Vienna, where, trusting to his skill
and knowledge, he hoped to have no difficulty in obtaining employment.
But his reputation had preceded him: his sentiments and his mode of
action were as well known in Vienna as at Lemberg, and he was looked
upon with suspicion as a restless character and an enemy of existing
institutions. All his applications for employment in agencies, etc.,
were consequently unavailing. Posts which he had solicited in vain were
continually given away to the most insignificant and least talented of
the profession.”

All this had naturally a very disastrous effect on Pfeiffer’s mind. He
saw himself every where crossed and hampered in his work and in his
efforts; and labors which he had formerly performed with zeal and
pleasure now fretted and annoyed him. At length he lost a portion of his
energy, and what he did brought him little or no advantage.

Thus the social position of the Pfeiffers became more and more critical
from day to day. As a skillful lawyer, Dr. Pfeiffer had earned a
considerable income at Lemberg; but he had liked to live in good style,
kept carriages and horses, and a good table, and had not thought of
providing for the future. Many people who knew his generosity made use
of him, and borrowed his money. Thus Ida’s paternal inheritance vanished
also, being lent to a friend of Pfeiffer’s, whom it was to help out of
his embarrassments. The man failed in spite of the loan, and thus the
whole fortune was lost.

After vainly seeking employment in Vienna, Dr. Pfeiffer returned, with
his wife, to Lemberg, but afterward came back again to Vienna, and at
length even tried his fortune in Switzerland, his native country, where
he had, however, only passed the earliest years of his life. But fortune
would nowhere smile upon him, and bitter poverty knocked at the door of
the family.

“Heaven only knows what I suffered during eighteen years of my married
life!” exclaims Ida Pfeiffer; “not, indeed, from any ill treatment on my
husband’s part, but from poverty and want. I came of a wealthy family,
and had been accustomed from my earliest youth to order and comfort; and
now I frequently knew not where I should lay my head, or find a little
money to buy the commonest necessaries. I performed household drudgery,
and bore cold and hunger; I worked secretly for money, and gave lessons
in drawing and music; and yet, in spite of all my exertions, there were
many days when I could hardly put any thing but dry bread before my
poor children for their dinner.

“I might certainly have applied to my mother or my brothers for relief,
but my pride revolted against such a course. For years I fought with
poverty and concealed my real position, often brought so near to despair
that the thought of my children alone prevented me from giving way. At
last the urgency of my necessities broke my spirit, and several times I
had recourse to my brothers for assistance.”

Ida Pfeiffer had two sons. A daughter was born to her, but only lived a
few days. The education of the children devolved entirely upon the
mother; and as the younger showed a great appreciation for music, she
took great pains to cultivate his talents.

In the year 1831 old Madame Reyer died. During the long illness which
preceded her death she was tended by her daughter with the most
affectionate care. After her mother’s death Ida betook herself again to
Lemberg, from whence Dr. Pfeiffer had again written, announcing that he
had a sure prospect of employment. He was now sixty years old, and lived
in a state of constant illusion; a mere promise was sufficient to
inspire him with the greatest confidence in the future. After
experiencing a series of hopes and disappointments during a period of
two years, she returned to Vienna, where she could at least obtain for
her sons a better education.

At her mother’s death she had not, indeed, come into a great property,
but she inherited enough to keep her in a respectable style, and to
provide good teachers for her children. In 1835 she settled definitely
in Vienna. Dr. Pfeiffer remained in Lemberg, where he was kept by force
of habit, and by his affection for his son by his first marriage. From
time to time, however, he visited Vienna to see his wife and children.

During a journey to Trieste which Ida Pfeiffer undertook with her
youngest son, in order that he might have sea-baths, she enjoyed her
first sight of the ocean. The impression made upon her by the sea was
overpowering. The dreams of her youth came back, with visions of distant
unexplored climes, teeming with strange, luxuriant vegetation; an almost
irresistible impulse for travel arose in her, and she would gladly have
embarked in the first ship to sail away into the great, mysterious,
boundless ocean. Her duty toward her children alone restrained her; and
she felt happy when she had quitted Trieste, and miles of mountain and
plain intervened between the sea and herself, for the longing to see the
world had weighed like a mountain on her spirit in the maritime city.

Returning to the routine of every-day life in Vienna, she still secretly
nourished the wish that her health and strength might be spared until
her sons should have been established in life, and she should be enabled
to go out into the world depending on her own resources alone. This wish
of hers was to be fulfilled. Her sons grew and throve, and became
prosperous, successful men in their profession.

The completion of their education and the establishment of each in his
vocation gave Ida Pfeiffer leisure to mature her plans of travel. The
old project of seeing the world arose anew, and now no obstacle existed
in the calls of duty and common sense. She began to mature a plan for a
long journey, to be undertaken alone; for she must journey by herself,
as her husband’s advanced age prevented him from participating in the
toil and fatigue of such an undertaking, and her sons could not be
spared from their professional duties. The financial aspect of the
question required much consideration. In the countries she wished to
visit railways and hotels were unknown institutions, and travelers in
those regions would be necessarily subjected to the expense of carrying
with them all they required during the journey; and after she had
devoted part of her maternal inheritance to the education of her sons,
the funds at Ida Pfeiffer’s disposal were limited indeed.

“But I soon settled these weighty points to my satisfaction,” she writes
in her diary. “Respecting the first, namely, the design that I, a woman,
should venture into the world alone, I trusted to my years (I was
already forty-five), to my courage, and to the habit of self-reliance I
had acquired in the hard school of life, during the time when I was
obliged to provide, not only for my children, but sometimes for my
husband also. As regarded money, I was determined to practice the most
rigid economy. Privation and discomfort had no terrors for me. I had
endured them long enough by compulsion, and considered that they would
be much easier to bear if I encountered them voluntarily with a fixed
object in view.”

Another question, namely, whither she should bend her steps, was quickly
answered. Two projects had occupied her mind for many years--a voyage to
the North, and a journey to the Holy Land. When, however, she imparted
to her friends her intention of visiting Jerusalem, she was looked upon
simply as a crazy, enthusiastic person, and nobody thought her in
earnest in the matter.

Nevertheless, she kept to her resolution, but concealed the real goal of
her journey, declaring that her intention was to visit a friend at
Constantinople, with whom she had for a long time kept up an active
correspondence. She kept her passport concealed, and no one of those
from whom she parted had any idea of her destination. Very painful was
the parting from her sons, to whom she was tenderly attached; but she
fought bravely against her softer emotions, consoled her friends with
the prospect of soon meeting them again, and on the 22d of March, 1842,
embarked on the steamer that was to convey her down the Danube to the
Black Sea and the City of the Crescent. She visited Brussa, Beyrout,
Jaffa, Jerusalem, the Dead Sea, Nazareth, Damascus, Baalbek, the
Lebanon, Alexandria, and Cairo, and traveled across the Desert to the
Isthmus of Suez and the Red Sea. From Egypt she returned by way of
Sicily and the whole of Italy to her home, arriving in Vienna in
December, 1842.

As she had carefully kept a diary of her journey, from which she
frequently read extracts to friends and acquaintances, she was often
requested to print her experiences. The thought of becoming an authoress
was repugnant to her modesty, and it was only when a publisher made her
a direct offer that she consented to trust her first book to the press.
It bore the title, “Journey of a Viennese Lady to the Holy Land.” The
first edition appeared in two volumes in 1843, the fourth in 1856; and
though the authoress neither had much that was new to tell, nor rode her
Pegasus in the approved style of the traveled ladies of the period, her
little book was still successful, as the four editions sufficiently
prove. The very simplicity of the narration, and its appearance of
unvarnished truth, at once gained numerous readers for the book.

The good result of this first journey, which gave the pilgrim fresh
funds in the form of copyright money, awakened within her fresh plans;
and this time she felt impelled toward the far north, where she expected
to see majestic sights, and to behold nature exhibited in new and
startling forms.

After various preparations, among which may be mentioned the study of
the English and Danish languages, and of the art of taking
Daguerreotypes, and after obtaining accurate information concerning the
countries she purposed visiting, she began her journey to the north on
the 10th of April, 1845. On the 16th of May she landed on the coast of
Iceland, and proceeded to traverse that interesting island in every
direction, visiting the Geysers and other hot springs, and ascending
Hecla, which shortly after her departure began to vomit flame, after
remaining for seventy years in a quiescent state. At the end of June she
sailed back to Copenhagen, and from thence journeyed to Christiania,
Thelemark, across the Swedish lakes to Stockholm, and over Upsala to the
iron mines of Danemora. She returned to her native city by way of
Travemûnde, Hamburg, and Berlin, arriving in Vienna on the 4th of
October, 1845, after an absence of six months.

The journal of this second voyage appeared under the title, “Voyage to
the Scandinavian North and the Island of Iceland,” in two volumes, at
Pesth, and was much read. The money realized by a sale of the geological
and botanical specimens collected during this tour, together with the
sum paid for the copyright of her book, were put aside by Ida Pfeiffer
as the nucleus of a fund for a new undertaking, and one of a more
ambitious character. A voyage round the world now occupied the thoughts
of this brave woman; and when once she had conceived the idea, she could
not rest until it was put in execution.

“Greater privations and fatigue than I had endured in Syria and
Iceland,” she writes, “I could scarcely have to encounter. The expense
did not frighten me, for I knew by experience how little is required if
the traveler will but practice the strictest economy, and be content to
forego all comforts and superfluities. My savings accumulated to a sum
barely sufficient perhaps to serve such travelers as Prince
Pückler-Muskau, Chateaubriand, or Lamartine for a fortnight’s excursion,
but which seemed enough for me during a journey of two or three years,
and the event proved that I had calculated rightly.”

Again concealing the whole extent of her undertaking from her relations,
and especially from her sons, and naming Brazil as her destination, our
traveler bade adieu to Vienna on the 1st of May, 1846, and betook
herself to Hamburg, where she was compelled to wait till the 28th of
June before a suitable opportunity for proceeding to the Brazils offered
itself in the shape of a little Danish brig.

Retarded by contrary winds and calms, the ship was a full month in
making its way from Hamburg through the English Channel--as long a time
as it required to get from thence to the equator. On the 16th of
September the harbor of Rio Janeiro was reached. From that port Ida
Pfeiffer made several excursions into the interior of the country. On
one of these expeditions she was attacked by a runaway negro slave,
whose purpose appeared to be robbery and murder. The miscreant was armed
with a knife; she received more than one wound, and only owed her life
to casual help which arrived at the critical moment.

At the beginning of December she left Rio Janeiro, sailed round Cape
Horn on the 3d of February, 1847, and landed at Valparaiso on the 2d of
March. The aspect of tropical scenery, particularly in Brazil, made a
vivid impression upon her; but she was greatly disgusted at the state of
things in what had been Spanish America. Quickly re-embarking, she
traversed the Pacific Ocean, and landed at the island of Otaheite at the
end of April. She was presented to Queen Pomare, of whose court she
afterward published a sufficiently spirited account, which was read with
much interest. The state of Europe at that period was one of such
tranquillity that, for mere want of matter, the papers were often full
of Queen Pomare for weeks together. Her Otaheitan majesty has now gone
considerably out of fashion, inasmuch as Europe has enough to do with
its own concerns, and has neither time nor inclination to patronize
happy islands in the far Pacific.

From Otaheite the enterprising voyager proceeded to China, arriving at
Macao in the beginning of July. She afterward visited Hong Kong and the
city of Canton, in which she would gladly have spent more time, had not
the appearance of a European woman been too much for the weak nerves of
the natives of the Celestial Empire. The visitor found herself in danger
of being insulted by the mob, and accordingly turned her back on the
fortunate country, paid a short visit to Singapore, and proceeded to
Ceylon, landing there in the middle of October. She traversed this
beautiful island in various directions, and saw Colombo, Candy, and the
famous temple of Dagona. At the end of October she landed on the
continent of India, at Madras, remained for some time at Calcutta,
proceeded up the Ganges to Benares, admired the ruins of Saranath, and
visited Cawnpoor, Delhi, Indore, and Bombay. She also had an opportunity
of seeing the celebrated rock temples of Adjunta and Ellora, and the
islands of Elephanta and Salsette. The houses of many Indians of rank
were thrown open to her, and she showed herself every where a close
observer of foreign manners, customs, and peculiarities. At more than
one tiger-hunt she was also present, and at a suttee. The position and
proceedings of the English missionaries also excited her especial
attention.

At the end of April, 1848, we find Ida Pfeiffer again at sea, bearing
her pilgrim’s staff toward Persia. From Bushire she intended to proceed
to Shiraz, Ispahan, and Teheran, but was deterred from this project by
disturbances in the interior of the country, and turned her footsteps
toward Mesopotamia. Through the bay Shat-el-Arab she betook herself to
Bassora, and afterward to Bagdad. After an excursion to the ruins of
Ctesiphon and Babylon, she traveled with a caravan through the Desert to
Mosul and the neighboring ruins of Nineveh, and afterward to Urumia and
Tebris. This expedition through Mesopotamia and Persia may be reckoned
among the most daring exploits of this courageous woman. A large amount
of mental energy, as well as of physical stamina, was required, to
enable her to endure without fainting the many hardships of the
undertaking--the burning heat by day, discomfort of every kind at
night, miserable fare, an unclean couch, and constant apprehension of
attack by robber bands. When she introduced herself at Tebris to the
English consul, he would not believe that a woman could have achieved
such a feat.

At Tebris our traveler was introduced to the vice-king Vali-Ahd, and
received permission to visit his harem. On the 11th of August, 1848, she
resumed her journey through Armenia, Georgia, Mingrelia, by Eriwan,
Tiflis, and Kutais to Redutkale; she touched at Anapa, Kertch, and
Sebastopol, landed at Odessa, and returned home by Constantinople,
Greece, the Ionian Islands, and Trieste to Vienna, where she arrived on
the 4th of November, 1848, just after the taking of the city by the
troops of Prince Windischgrätz. It seemed that even in her fatherland,
distracted as it was by faction, she was to find no rest.

Ida Pfeiffer’s fame spread more and more after this journey round the
world; for a woman who, trusting to herself alone for protection, could
travel 2800 miles by land and 35,000 by sea, was looked upon, not
unnaturally, as a remarkable character. Her third work, which appeared
in Vienna in 1850, under the title “A Woman’s Journey round the World,”
was well received. It was translated twice into English, and afterward
appeared in a French garb.

It was now for some time Ida Pfeiffer’s purpose to consider her
traveling days as over, and to settle down in repose. But this resigned
frame of mind did not last long. When, after selling her collections,
and preparing and publishing her journal, she found herself in the
enjoyment of undiminished health and strength, she gradually began to
entertain the idea of a second voyage round the world. Her slender
traveling fund was this time increased by a grant of 1500 florins from
the Austrian government; and on the 18th of March, 1851, she left
Vienna, betaking herself first to London, as she had no fixed goal in
view, and intended to wait till an occasion offered for traveling
farther. Even when she had left London, and arrived in Cape Town on the
11th of August, she had come to no definite determination. For a long
time her mind wavered between the intention of visiting the interior of
Africa and that of proceeding to Australia, till at last she sailed to
Singapore, and decided to visit the Sunda Islands. Landing on the west
coast of Borneo, at Sarawak, she received a hospitable welcome and
energetic assistance from Sir James Brooke, who has established an
independent principality in these regions. During an excursion she made
among the savage, independent Dyaks, she was not only spared by the
“head hunters,” but was even received with great cordiality. Proceeding
to Sinting, she continued her journey westward to Pontianak and the
diamond mines of Landak. Every where the Dutch officials, civil and
military, offered her the readiest assistance, without which she would
have found it impossible to extend her travels so far as she did in the
Indian Archipelago. Ida Pfeiffer’s design was to push on from Pontianak
directly through the interior of the island, a region never yet
traversed by Europeans; but she could endure no one to be her guide or
companion on so dangerous an expedition. She therefore cast her eyes on
Java, and landed at Batavia at the end of May, 1852. Here, likewise, she
received every assistance and support from the Dutch authorities, and,
in consequence of their example, from the native grandees also. This she
often afterward publicly acknowledged, with the warmest thanks.

On the 8th of July, 1852, her journey to Sumatra began; and this she has
declared to be the most interesting of all her undertakings. From Padang
she proceeded to trust herself among the Battas, who are cannibals, and
have never suffered any European to come among them. Though the savages
opposed her farther advance, she passed forward through the primeval
forest, among a population of man-eaters, almost as far as the Lake
Eier-Tau. But here she was compelled by threatening spears to retreat,
after having been repeatedly assured that she should be killed and
eaten. On the 7th of October she got back to Padang. In Sumatra she was
twice attacked by the malignant intermittent fever of the country.

Returning to Java, she made excursions to the principalities of
Djokdjokarta and Surakarta, to the temple Boro Budoo, and to Surabaga.
From thence she sailed to several of the smaller Sunda Islands, and to
the Moluccas, Banda, Amboyna, Saparna, Ceram, and Ternate; remained for
a few months among the wild Alfores, and closed her rambles among the
Sunda Islands by a visit to Celebes.

Again she traversed the Pacific to a distance of 10,150 miles to visit
California. For two months she saw nothing but sea and sky. On the 27th
of September, 1853, she landed at San Francisco, visited the
gold-washing districts on the Sacramento and the Yuba, and slept in the
wigwams of the red-skins of Rogue River.

At the end of 1853 Ida Pfeiffer sailed to Panama, and from thence to the
Peruvian coast. From Callao she betook herself to Lima, with the
intention of crossing the Cordilleras, and proceeding to Loretto, on the
Amazon, and thus gaining the eastern coast of South America. The
revolution, however, which had just broken out in Peru, made the land
unsafe, and compelled our traveler to try and cross the Cordilleras at
another point. She returned, accordingly, to Ecuador, and in March,
1854, began her toilsome passage across the mountains. She crossed the
chain in the immediate neighborhood of Chimborazo, came to the elevated
plateau of Ambato and Tacunga, and witnessed the rare spectacle of an
eruption of the volcano Cotopaxi--a sight for which she was afterward
envied by Alexander von Humboldt. On reaching Quito on the 4th of April,
she did not, unfortunately, find the assistance she had expected in the
shape of several trustworthy guides to the Amazon. She therefore gave up
her plan of embarking on that river, and had to repeat her wearisome
march across the Cordilleras. In the neighborhood of Guayaquil she twice
stood in imminent danger of being killed--first by a fall from her mule,
and then from an immersion in the River Guaya, which abounds in caymans.
Her companions wished her to perish, and did not render the slightest
assistance. Deeply disgusted at their inhumanity, she turned her back
upon Spanish South America, betook herself by sea to Panama, and at the
end of May crossed the Isthmus.

From Aspinwall she sailed to New Orleans, remaining there till the 30th
of June; then she ascended the Mississippi to Napoleon, and the Arkansas
as far as Fort Smith. Her projected visit to the Cherokee Indians had to
be abandoned, on account of a renewed and violent attack of the Sumatra
fever. Returning to the Mississippi, she reached St. Louis on the 14th
of July, and paid a visit to the Baden democrat Hecker, who had
established himself in the neighborhood of Lebanon. Then she turned
northward toward St. Paul and the Falls of St. Anthony, proceeded to
Chicago, and thus came to the great lakes and to the Falls of Niagara.
After an excursion into Canada, she staid for some time in New York,
Boston, and other cities, then went on board a steamer, and, after a
passage of ten days, landed in England, at Liverpool, on the 21st of
November, 1854.

To this great voyage round the world she added a little supplement, by
paying a visit to her son, who was residing at San Miguel, in the
Azores. It was not until May, 1855, that she returned to Vienna, by way
of Lisbon, Southampton, and London.

The specimens and the ethnographical objects collected by Ida Pfeiffer
were for the most part deposited in the British Museum and in the
Imperial Cabinets in Vienna. Alexander von Humboldt and Carl Ritter, in
Berlin, took great interest in the efforts of Ida Pfeiffer, and
Humboldt especially rewarded her with the warmest praise for her energy
and perseverance. At the request of these two eminent men, the
Geographical Society of Berlin elected Ida Pfeiffer an honorary member,
and the King of Prussia awarded her the gold medal for arts and
sciences. In Vienna the expressions of approval were much more sparing,
probably according to the old rule that no prophet is regarded in his
own country.

The brave traveler’s journal again appeared in Vienna in 1856, under the
title, “My Second Journey round the World.”

After each of her former voyages, Ida Pfeiffer had for a time cherished
the idea of retiring from future enterprises, and living in the memory
of the past. But after the second journey round the world, which
resulted entirely to her satisfaction, no such ideas seem to have
troubled her. Before she had even finished arranging her cabinet of
specimens and superintending the publication of her book, she already
conceived the plan of exploring Madagascar, and was not to be dissuaded
from her purpose even by the representations of Alexander von Humboldt,
who proposed various other plans for her consideration.

The farther fortunes of Ida Pfeiffer will be found chronicled in the
accompanying journal of her voyage to Madagascar, and, with the
communication of her son, Mr. Oscar Pfeiffer, tell the story of her
sufferings and death. But, before we enter upon the last act of her
toilsome and instructive career, it will be well to say a few words
concerning the character of our traveler.

Ida Pfeiffer did not give those who saw her the impression of an
emancipated, strong-minded, or masculine woman. On the contrary, she was
so simple and downright in word and thought, that those who did not know
her had some difficulty in getting at the depth of her knowledge and
experience. In her whole appearance and manners there was a quiet
staidness that seemed to indicate a practical housewife, with no
enthusiastic thought beyond her domestic concerns. Many people were
accordingly premature in their judgment concerning Ida Pfeiffer, and
felt inclined to ascribe her passion for traveling to mere inquisitive
restlessness. This supposition was, however, completely negatived by a
leading trait in Ida Pfeiffer’s character, namely, a total absence of
any thing like prying curiosity. In proportion as her whole existence
had been troubled, was her appearance quiet and sedate.

The sharpest observer would fail to detect in her any tendency to push
herself forward, or to interfere in matters not within her sphere.
Serious, silent, and reserved, she presented few of the agreeable
features of her mind to people with whom she was imperfectly acquainted.

But those who succeeded in gaining her intimacy could not fail to
recognize under this unpretending exterior the qualities which make a
remarkable woman. Strength of purpose, firmness of character, sometimes
amounting almost to obstinacy, were quickly discernible in certain
favorite expressions of hers. If we add to these gifts an amount of
personal courage rarely found in a woman, indifference to physical pain
and to the ordinary conveniences of life, and, moreover, the
never-ceasing desire to add something to the stock of human knowledge,
it will be allowed that she possessed the qualities with which success
is achieved in the world. The value of these gifts was heightened in Ida
Pfeiffer by a strict regard for truth and strong sense of conscientious
responsibility, and a love of right and justice. She never told any
thing that had not happened exactly as she chronicled it, and never made
a promise which she did not keep. She had what, in common life, we
emphatically term _character_.

That her communications derive an additional value from her well-known
truthfulness is self-evident; and as she was free from sectarian and
other prejudices, her judgments were always based upon a solid
foundation. Had she in her youthful days employed herself more than she
did in scientific study, and gained positive knowledge in that
direction, her travels would doubtless have been more useful; but at the
commencement of our century even men were seldom found who would employ
themselves in scientific pursuits that had no immediate bearing upon
their professions, and learned women were rarer still. Ida Pfeiffer was
conscious of this defect in her education, and in her mature years often
thought of remedying it, but she lacked both the necessary time and
patience.

To divest her efforts of all scientific value would, however, be unjust,
for the most competent men have given a different verdict. She pressed
forward into many regions never before trodden by European foot; and the
very fact of her being a woman was her protection in her most dangerous
undertakings. She was allowed to pursue her journey where a man would
assuredly not have been suffered to advance. Her communications,
consequently, have often the merit of containing entirely new facts in
geography and ethnology, or of correcting the exaggerations and errors
of previous accounts. Science was likewise benefited by the valuable
collections she made of plants, animals, and minerals. Frequently she
did not herself know the value of what she had brought together; but,
nevertheless, she brought many important specimens; and the sciences of
conchology and entomology are indebted to her for the discovery of
several new genera.

If we compare the results of Ida Pfeiffer’s undertakings with the
limited means at her disposal for carrying out her plans, her
achievements become marvelous. She traversed nearly 150,000 miles of sea
and 20,000 miles of land; and the funds for these travels were gained
entirely by wise economy, and by the energy with which she kept the
goal continually before her eyes. If her passion for traveling was
great, her talents as a traveler were far greater. Without sacrificing
her dignity or becoming importunate, she had the art of first arousing
and then benefiting by the interest and sympathy of people in all parts
of the world. At last she became quite accustomed to see her plan
furthered in every possible way, and though she never failed to express
her thanks, she seemed at last to receive the good offices of foreigners
in all quarters of the globe as almost a matter of course. She even had
to fight against little outbursts of wrath when she missed the sympathy
for her efforts and herself to which she had become so accustomed. In
later years especially, she was fully conscious of her own value, and
showed it when people attempted to behave in a condescending or
patronizing way to her. Persons of higher rank than herself were obliged
to be very careful in their intercourse with her; but with plain,
unpretending people she never uttered a word that could hurt or offend.
Hating all pretension, and all boastful self-assertion, she showed
herself obstinate and self-willed wherever she met with such qualities.
Antipathy or sympathy were quickly evoked in her, and it was not easy to
make her swerve from an opinion she had once formed. Even when she
appeared to give way, it generally happened that she returned by some
circuitous route or other to her old starting-point.

For every kind of knowledge she showed the most profound respect, but
particularly for the acquirements of people who had distinguished
themselves in the domain of science. For Alexander von Humboldt her
admiration amounted to perfect enthusiasm, and she never mentioned the
great philosopher’s name without testifying the respect she felt toward
him. Nothing, perhaps, gave her so much pleasure in her later years as
the appreciation for, and sympathy with her efforts manifested by
Humboldt.

Ida Pfeiffer was of short stature, thin, and slightly bent. Her
movements were deliberate and measured, but she could walk at a very
quick pace for her years. When she returned from one of her journeys,
her complexion used to give strong evidence of the power of the tropical
sun. Beyond this there was nothing in her features to tell of her
remarkable trials and adventures; a quieter countenance could not
readily be found. But when she became animated in conversation, and
spoke of things which strongly awakened her interest, her whole face
lighted up, and its expression became exceedingly engaging.

In all that related to the toilet, a matter of importance to most women,
Ida Pfeiffer confined her wants within the smallest limits. She was
never seen to wear trinkets or jewels; and none of the lady readers who
honor these pages with their perusal can show more simplicity in the
adornment of her beauty, or greater indifference to the requirements of
custom, than were displayed by this voyager round the world.

Straightforward, of high principle, with a promptitude and wisdom in
action rarely equaled among her sex, Ida Pfeiffer may justly be classed
among those women who richly compensate for the absence of outward
charms by the remarkable energy and rare qualities of their minds.




IDA PFEIFFER’S LAST TRAVELS.




CHAPTER I.

     Departure from Vienna.--Linz.--Salzburg.--Munich.--The Artists’
     Festival.--The King of Bavaria.--Berlin.--Alexander von
     Humboldt.--Hamburg.


On the 21st of May, 1856, I left Vienna, and set forth on another of my
long journeys. At Nussdorf, near Vienna, I embarked on board the fine
steamer “Austria,” bound up the river for Linz. The steam-boat company
was not only so obliging as to give me a free pass, but even placed a
cabin at my disposal, and provided board and every comfort for me.

The short distance (about thirty German miles) from Vienna to Linz can
be accomplished in twenty-one hours, and a beautiful trip it is. Few
rivers can boast such an endless variety of scenery as greets the eye of
the traveler on the Danube. Hill and valley, city and hamlet,
magnificent convents and elegant villas glide past in endless
succession, nor lacketh there the knightly castle, or the half-decayed
ruin with its appropriate legend of romance. Favored by the Fates with
the finest possible weather, and surrounded by agreeable company, I
could only wish that my journey might continue to present the auspicious
appearance under which it had begun.

I made acquaintance with several passengers on board, and among the rest
with the wife of the respected physician, Dr. Pleninger, of Linz. This
amiable lady insisted upon my taking up my quarters in her house.
Unfortunately, I had but a short time to stay at Linz, as I purposed
proceeding to Lambach the same day. But kind Dr. Pleninger arranged a
little pleasure party for the morning to the neighboring “Freudenberg”
(Mountain of Joy), on which a great Jesuit convent is built. Besides its
clerical occupants, this establishment numbers more than a hundred and
fifty pupils, who, for the sum of only twelve florins[A] per month, are
boarded and lodged, and get their education into the bargain. The
institution appears to be conducted with care and with notable order. It
already possesses a little collection of ethnographical objects and a
botanic garden, the latter under the superintendence of Herr Hintereker,
a very eminent botanist. The view from the Freudenberg is very charming,
and I herewith recommend this walk to all future tourists, including
those who are unable to see the convent.

I remained at Dr. Pleninger’s till the afternoon, and then proceeded by
rail to Lambach, a distance of eight German miles, which it required
full three hours to accomplish.

At Lambach I took the Salzburg omnibus. Unfortunately, this vehicle was
not managed on English principles. It was a true, genuine, and
unadulterated German omnibus, drawn by German horses, who tramped
stolidly along at the rate, as I judged, of a German mile an hour. The
distance is twelve German miles, and in just twelve hours we got to our
destination, so that my calculation was quite correct.

At Salzburg it was pouring wet weather, of course: my countrymen do not
call this town the “rainy corner” without reason.

They tell a story of an Englishman who once came to Salzburg at
midsummer, and found town, valley, and hills alike shrouded in mist and
rain. He had read so much of the charming situation of Salzburg that he
lingered there a few days, but, as the sky showed no token of clearing
up, this son of Albion at length lost patience and decamped. Two years
afterward, on his journey home from Italy, he took the route by this
town, in the hope of being more fortunate this time; but, behold, it was
raining as it had rained two years ago. “By Jove!” exclaimed the Briton,
in astonishment, “hasn’t it _left off_ yet?”

I might have made the same observation; for, although in my journeys I
had several times passed through Salzburg, I had not once had the good
luck to see this beautiful region smiling in the sunshine. And beautiful
it is--wonderfully beautiful. It would be difficult to find a prettier
little town, or one situate in so fertile a valley, and surrounded by
such majestic masses of mountains. One of these, the Watzmann, is nearly
9000 feet high.

I had only half a day to spend in Salzburg, and had just time to look at
the statue of Mozart, set up here since my last visit. Mozart, as is
well known, was born in this town in the year 1756.

From Salzburg I took the stage-coach (stellwagen) to Munich. This kind
of conveyance could never be classed among the most agreeable methods of
traveling, but since the invention of railways it has become
intolerable. Crowded together like negroes in a slave-ship, we loitered
for two whole days in accomplishing this little distance of nineteen
German miles. The rain fortunately ceased a few miles from Salzburg,
and, moreover, the scenery is very fine to within four miles of Munich.
The Bavarian frontier is crossed within the first mile. To my great
surprise, the inspection of passports and of luggage was speedily
accomplished.

Toward evening we came to the Chiem Lake, also called the “Bavarian
Sea.” This beautiful sheet of water is two German miles in length, and
one and a half in breadth. On three sides it is shut in by high
mountains, while on the fourth it is bordered by a plain of seemingly
unlimited extent.

Not far from Traunstein we struck into a by-road toward Sekon, a pretty
seat belonging to the widowed Empress of Brazil, who was by birth a
princess of Leuchtenberg. Sekon is situate on a tiny lake, whose waters
are said to possess mineral properties. The empress has caused a large
building, originally a convent, on the banks of the lake, to be
converted into a bathing hotel, with fifty rooms, and it has been very
tastefully arranged. A neat garden surrounds the building, the kitchen
is well supplied, and conveyances can be had, and every thing is
marvelously cheap. A very good room, for instance, costs only three
florins per week; the _table d’hôte_, twenty-four kreutzers; a one-horse
carriage can be had for two florins a day, and other expenses are in
proportion. This pleasant bathing-place, when its existence becomes more
widely known, can not fail to attract a multitude of guests, and then,
of course, the prices will rise.

From Sekon we went on to Wasserburg. This little town is wonderfully
placed as regards situation. It lies in a perfect basin, shut in at
almost every point by steep walls of rock and sandstone. When I came to
the edge a giant crater seemed to open suddenly at my feet, but, instead
of fire and flames, this crater contained a charming rural scene. The
little houses lay there hidden and secluded as if they belonged to
another world. The Inn flowed between them, its yellow waters covered
with signs of a busy life; for hundreds of rafts, built of the trunks of
trees and planks, float down hence to distant harbors. Taking a wide
circuit, we drove down into this crater; and then I became aware that
the basin was much wider than it had appeared from above, and that it
afforded space for numerous hop-gardens. This region might not inaptly
be called the Vineyard of Bavaria.

On the 26th of May I arrived in Munich. The portion of Bavaria with
which I became acquainted on this little journey pleased me greatly. The
scenery is splendid, the towns and villages look pretty and prosperous,
and the fields are well cultivated. The scattered farms in particular
bear a certain impress of prosperity, cleanliness, and order. The
buildings are of stone, are sufficiently roomy, and generally have an
upper story; the roof is constructed in the Swiss manner, almost flat,
and weighted with heavy stones, as a protection against the violent
storms which prevail here. Exception might be taken to the fact that
dwelling-house, barn, and stable are all under the same roof; for, in
the event of a fire, the farmer would most probably lose all his
property at once.

No one who looks at these teeming fields and valleys (and when I saw
them the crops were waving in rich abundance), the smiling villages, the
well-built farms, would suppose that poverty could lurk here, and that
many of the inhabitants are forced to emigrate, to seek beyond the sea a
country that will better repay their toil.

And yet it is so. The chief reason is perhaps to be found in the fact
that in Bavaria, and particularly in Upper and Lower Bavaria and the
Upper Palatinate, farms are not divided, but given to one of the
children, who is chosen by the father from among his family. The
fortunate individual thus selected has certainly the responsibility of
“paying out” his brothers, as it is called; but they never receive much,
as the estate is always appraised considerably below its value, and the
chief heir, moreover, receives a considerable sum under the name of
“Mannslehen.” The rest have naturally no course left but to seek a
service, to learn a trade, or to emigrate. Even in the other provinces,
where the estates are divided, there is a great deal of poverty, and
emigration is always going on. Why this should be so I can not pretend
to determine.

The costume of the peasant women in these regions is very peculiar. They
wear short but very full skirts, with double bodices, the one with long
sleeves, the other sleeveless. This second jacket, generally of
dark-colored velvet, is put on over the other, and laced with silver
tags. The wealthier peasant women adorn their necks with eight or ten
strings of little real pearls, with great clasps in front. The poorer
ones are fain to content themselves with imitation pearls, of silver.

Munich seemed to me a very quiet city. There is little traffic, and none
but the principal streets show any signs of life.

I only remained in this city six days, but in that short time I made the
acquaintance of several families. So far as I could judge, domestic life
appears to be simple and social here, and the fair sex seemed to care
less for outward show than the ladies of other capitals. I must confess
that the mode of life in Munich pleased me much.

Through a fortunate chance I became acquainted with many distinguished
men here, principally artists. The Artists’ Festival was being
celebrated, and I received a polite invitation to take part in it. Were
I to chronicle the names of all the eminent people to whom I had the
honor of an introduction on this occasion, I should perhaps tire my
readers; but in my memory those names will always be impressed.

I must devote a few words, however, to the festival, which is celebrated
every year on a fine day in May.

It was held at Schwanegg and Pullach, in a beautiful meadow surrounded
by forests. At Schwanegg, a chateau built in the Gothic style by Herr
von Schwanthaler, a comic interlude was represented, a parody on
Schiller’s “Fight with the Dragon.” The fortress of Schwanegg is
supposed to have been besieged for a whole year by a dragon, in such
wise that no man could go out or in. A knight comes riding past by
chance; he is seen from the watch-tower, and the inmates of the castle
straightway assemble on the threshold, and in very comic verses implore
the knight to deliver them from their enemy. Then follows the combat,
with discomfiture of the dragon, etc.

After the dragon had been satisfactorily slain, we had another scenic
show in the little wood near Pullach--_Spring expelling Winter_. Then we
had a series of funny processions. Bacchus appeared seated on a
wine-cask, drawn by gigantic cockchafers (each represented by a man),
with similar insects sporting round him. Apollo came next, on a
triumphal car, with Pegasus as his horse, and surrounded by butterflies,
flowers, and beetles, from one to two feet in height, cut out of
card-board, tastefully colored, and mounted on lofty poles. In short,
one frolic succeeded another, and the appreciating public enjoyed the
sight most unequivocally; it was a thorough “people’s festival.” There
must have been nearly ten thousand people assembled, all passing the day
in hearty enjoyment, and seeming to belong to a single family. Some
found places at long tables under the trees, others simply threw
themselves on the grass; but all seemed equally devoted to the national
beverage of the country, the beer, without which a true Bavarian would
scarcely be able to enjoy himself thoroughly. In spite of this bibulous
propensity, every thing went off peaceably and well, and it was not
until the evening that one or two of the company showed signs of having
overdone the thing a little. Luckily, the Spirit of the Hop seems to be
a good-natured sort of spirit, only promoting hilarity, for I did not
hear of a single quarrel.

The first representation had been honored by the presence of King Max,
who came in the dress of a plain citizen. Afterward in the theatre I saw
the king and the whole court in private dress. It is a long time since I
have seen a monarch in the garb of a civilian; crowned heads wear
uniforms, and nothing but uniforms, as if they belonged exclusively to
the military class. There is some fitness in that; for what would the
majority of them be without soldiers?

King Max seems to take a different view of things. He honors the
citizens, and does not scruple to associate with them. He marched along
with the great crowd, with no followers to accompany or police to escort
him. He cleared a path for himself, and the people passed to and fro
around him quite unceremoniously.

The king was told that my insignificant self was among the audience at
the feast, and I was speedily presented to him among thousands of
spectators. His majesty conversed with me for some time in the most
gracious manner.

To describe the “lions” of Munich and its Art treasures is no fit task
for a journal like mine. Any of my readers who may wish for information
on the subject will find it amply detailed in one or other of the
capital hand-books which have been published concerning this city of
Art.

Two amiable ladies, the Baronesses Du Prel and Bissing, were obliging
enough to lead me from gallery to gallery, and from church to church.
But nothing is more tiring, or more exhausting to the mind and body,
than crowding a large amount of sight-seeing into a limited time. These
six days tried me more than a sojourn of double that time in the virgin
forests of the tropics, where I had to walk on the most tiring paths all
day long, with the damp earth for my resting-place at night, and rice
parboiled in water for my daily food.

Before I take leave of Munich I must relate a funny incident that
occurred one evening on my leaving the theatre. I did not know my way
well, and begged a good dame, who came walking past with a gentleman, to
set me right. As they were walking in the same direction, they invited
me to go with them. On the way she inquired if I had been to the
Artists’ Festival, and if I had seen the “great traveler,” Ida Pfeiffer,
there. My questioner added that she had been with her husband, but only
in the evening, and had not seen the person in question. I replied that
the “great traveler” was a quiet little woman, and that I knew her well
enough; if I wanted to see her I had only to look in a glass. The good
people seemed very glad to see me, and insisted on accompanying me to my
door.

On the 1st of June I proceeded, by way of Hof, to Berlin (ninety-five
miles), and, arriving on the following day, was received with their
wonted hearty kindness by my dear friends, Professor Weisz and his wife.

The journey from Munich to Berlin offers few points of interest: the
views are sometimes pretty, but nowhere striking; the country around
Plauen is the most agreeable. Before we got to Hof, the last Bavarian
station, something broke down in the engine; we thus lost a whole hour,
and missed the corresponding train. At the Prussian frontier my passport
was demanded, but the official scarcely glanced at it, and the
inspection of my luggage was also entirely formal; in a few moments the
whole ceremony was over.

In Berlin a great and joyful surprise awaited me. I received from
Alexander von Humboldt an open letter of recommendation to all his
friends in the wide world.

The celebrated geographer, Carl Ritter, also did me a great honor by
inviting me to a sitting of the Geographical Society. In March last I
had been received as an honorary member of that body, and was the first
woman to whom such a distinction had been accorded.

I only staid a week in Berlin, and proceeded thence to Hamburg (a
distance of thirty-eight German miles), taking up my quarters again with
the worthy Schulz family. But in Hamburg also there was no long tarrying
for me. I wanted to husband my time for Holland, a country with which I
was unacquainted, and accordingly, on the 14th of June, I embarked on
board the steamer “Stoomward,” Captain C. Bruns, for Amsterdam, distant
three hundred and twelve sea-miles from this port.

This was the first passage I made in Europe on a Dutch steamer, and here
I experienced the same kindness I had met with from the proprietors of
Dutch steamers in India during my second journey round the world; not
only did they give me a free passage, but refused to accept payment for
table expenses, etc. How much more easily would my journeys have been
accomplished had I met with similar consideration from English
steam-boat companies! but unfortunately, till now, such has not been my
good fortune. The English directors, agents, and managers have shown far
greater appreciation for my dollars than for my journeyings, and always
made me pay my passage, alike for long and short distances.




CHAPTER II.

     Arrival in Holland.--Amsterdam.--Dutch Architecture.--Picture
     Galleries.--Mr. Costa’s Diamond-cutting Works.--The Haarlem
     Lake.--A Dutch Cattle-stable.--Utrecht.--The Students’ Festival.


I arrived in Amsterdam at midday on the 16th of June. My worthy friend,
Colonel Steuerwald, was waiting for me in the harbor. This gentleman is
one of my oldest traveling acquaintances. I first met him on my journey
from Gothenburg to Stockholm, afterward encountered him again at
Batavia, and here again in his own native land, where he welcomed me in
the heartiest manner, and introduced me at once to his family circle.

I staid in Holland till the 2d of July, and had an opportunity of
traveling through the greater part of this interesting country; but I
will merely indicate what I saw in as few words as possible, for it does
not come within the scope of my book to give detailed accounts of
well-known lands and cities.

The thing that struck me most in Amsterdam was the architecture of the
houses, which I can best liken to the old German style, as seen, for
instance, in Magdeburg. The houses, inhabited generally by a single
family, are very narrow, from two to four stories high, terminating in
fronted or rounded gable roofs. They are built of brick stained with a
dark brown tint, and in some instances ornamented with arabesques. The
streets have a singular appearance. The houses stand in straight rows,
but do not by any means rise in a perpendicular line. In some the under,
in others the upper, and in others, again, the middle story, bulges out
beyond the rest, the deviation from the perpendicular frequently
exceeding a foot. It would seem that such houses were peculiarly liable
to fall in; but, from the dates over the doors, I found that the
majority had stood for one, and not a few for two centuries. The narrow
steep staircase is a great drawback in Dutch houses. One ought to be a
born Hollander, and accustomed from childhood to the task of climbing
these stairs, to look upon them with equanimity, especially as in any of
these lofty narrow houses one seems to be mounting and descending the
stairs all day long. I need scarcely say that the houses of the rich,
the hotels, and similar buildings, are free from this inconvenience.

Equally surprised was I to notice that in houses where the ground floor
is arranged as a shop, the whole width of the front is thus occupied,
and no room left for a private door. The cook with her market-basket,
the water-carrier with his pails, the housewife and the visitors, have
all to go through warehouses sometimes filled with costly wares arranged
to the best advantage. Of course, too, the shop-door must be left open
on Sundays and holidays as on ordinary occasions.

These inconveniences are all caused by the high price of the ground.
Every one knows with what labor the greater part of the Dutch soil was
won from the sea, and how expensive it is to build on ground where the
foundation must be almost _created_, so to speak, by driving heavy
piles. Generally the building _below_ the ground costs quite as much as
all the rest of the structure.

Amsterdam is intersected by numerous canals, all sufficiently broad, and
crossed by 250 bridges. This town might indeed be called the Venice of
the North, but that the marble palaces, the bustle and life of the
southern people, the crowd of passing gondolas, and the melodious songs
of the boatmen, are all wanting. Amsterdam has, however, one advantage
over Venice in possessing fine broad streets running parallel with the
canals, so that carriages can be used in traversing the city. Many of
the streets are adorned with tall stately trees, which make the town
look very fresh and pleasant.

There are some handsome buildings, but none of remarkable appearance
except the royal palace--the council-house of old times. This is built
in a grand style, and beautified with excellent sculpture.

I must farther mention a few peculiarities of Amsterdam which greatly
surprised me. The first was, that in this great city of 200,000
inhabitants there are no stands for hired carriages; whoever wants to
drive out must send to the stable-keeper’s house, and wait until the
horses are harnessed. Another peculiarity struck me as very original: in
the middle of summer people may be seen traversing the paved streets in
sledges. These sledges--low carriage bodies mounted on frames of wood
and iron without wheels--are called “steepkoets,” and are used chiefly
by old people. The pace is very slow, but the traveling comfortable
enough.

The Zoological Garden, adjoining the town, is spacious and tastefully
laid out. The number of foreign animals is considerable, and had just
been increased by the arrival of several giraffes. The classes of birds
and reptiles were very fully represented.

The Museum contains a valuable collection of sea-shells and land-snails.

I visited two picture galleries, the Trippenhuis collection and that of
Herr van der Hoop. The word _van_, by the way, unlike the German _von_,
is not an indication of nobility; every Hollander may prefix it to his
name. The principal pictures I saw were “The Watchmen and----,” by
Rembrandt; Van der Helst’s “Meal;” Steen’s “Feast of St. Nicholas;” and
the “School by Moonlight” of Dow. The two galleries can boast of many
masterpieces by the above-mentioned artists and by various others, as
Ruysdael, Wouvermans, Ostade, etc.

The Van der Hoop gallery is in the Academy, and was a bequest from the
proprietor. The Academy hesitated long before accepting the valuable
present, the institution then lacking funds to pay the high legacy-duty.

I was much interested during my visit to the diamond-cutting works of
Herr Costa, reputed to be the chief establishment of the kind in
existence. The Dutch enjoy an acknowledged pre-eminence over all the
nations of Europe in the art of cutting diamonds; but in India they have
found their masters, as is proved by the great diamond in the possession
of the sultan, which was cut in Upper India. This diamond, the largest
known to exist, though convex on the under side, has been cut in facets
of uniform size, with an amount of skill which even the Hollanders are
unable to emulate.

The size of the manufactory is very striking when one considers the
smallness of the objects manipulated; the building is more than a
hundred feet long and three stories high.

The various operations are conducted in the following way: the rough
diamond passes first into the hands of the planer, then into those of
the cutter, and finally is handed to the grinder. The first of these
operators removes any defects that may be in the stone with a sharp
diamond, wherewith he files the gem, and then chips off the faulty
piece. The cutter gives the stone its proper shape by getting rid of the
corners and inequalities in the same way. The dust obtained by these
operations is carefully collected and husbanded, for the use of it is
indispensable in grinding the diamond. The grinder uses a leaden bullet
inclosed in wood, with the upper portion softened in the fire, so that
the stone may be pressed into it as far as necessary. The diamond is
then ground on a steel plate, on which a little diamond-dust has been
strewn. The great art consists in making the facets and corners
perfectly even, whereby the fire and beauty of the diamond are greatly
increased.

The turning of the grinding machine (by steam power) is so rapid that
the steel disk does not seem to move at all; it makes two thousand
revolutions per minute.

A great deal is lost by this grinding; thus the English crown diamond
Kôh-i-Noor was reduced one fourth in size on being cut the second time.
The first cutting of this beautiful diamond had proved a failure, and in
1852 the English government sent for a Dutch workman from Herr Costa’s
establishment to cut the stone artistically. The work occupied the
lapidary for six months, and the mere working expenses, apart from any
profit, which indeed the proprietor of the factory, Herr Costa, would
not accept, amounted to four thousand Dutch guilders, or something more
than £330 sterling. In Herr Costa’s works, of which he is sole owner,
125 workmen are employed, of whom five are planers, thirty cutters, and
ninety grinders. These men earn each from thirty to seventy and eighty
Dutch guilders per week.

In Amsterdam I saw also the sugar-refining works of Messrs. Spakler,
Neoten, and Fetterode. The sugar is refined by means of steam-engines. I
have seen the same thing done in other countries. This manufactory turns
out about 5,000,000 kilos (about 4885 tons, English weight) of sugar
every year. The greatest establishment of the kind in Holland
manufactures 16,000,000 kilos, and the entire produce amounts to
80,000,000.

Very near Amsterdam lies the famous Haarlem Lake, the draining of which
may be certainly reckoned among the most gigantic undertakings of the
present century. Where a few years ago great ships sailed, and where the
fisherman spread his nets, thousands of cows now graze, and beauteous
fields and meadows smile with verdure; nay, scattered houses, already
fast increasing, will soon probably expand into towns and villages.

The pumping out of this lake, which was about thirteen feet deep, was
begun in February, 1849, and the whole great work was completed in four
years. Engines of 400-horse power were set up in three different places;
each of these engines raised the pistons of eight pumps six times a
minute, and poured out the water into the canals leading to the sea. The
twenty-four pumps of the three engines discharged 20,340 kilderkins of
water per minute.

The area of land thus gained amounts to no less than 60,000 English
acres. The cultivation of this great tract was begun as early as 1853.

Herr Muyskens, who had the kindness to show me this new wonder of the
world, is the owner of a fair tract of the land, from which he carried
the first harvest last year. His house, too, was finished, and had been
built with much taste. Here I first saw how far the Hollanders’
predilection for cattle-breeding leads them; the cow-stable was
indisputably the handsomest part of the house. It must be borne in mind,
however, that the greater part of the Dutch soil consists of rich
pastures and meadows, and that stock-breeding is the chief source of the
Dutchman’s wealth; it is thus reasonable enough that every possible
effort should be made to develop this branch of farming. But I had
scarcely expected that their anxiety should go so far as to procure for
the cows cleaner and more comfortable dwellings than many well-to-do
people can boast in the less civilized countries of Europe, to say
nothing of other quarters of the world. The cow-house monopolized the
greater part of the building: its windows, of a handsome oval form, were
absolutely festooned with white curtains, looped up with gay ribbons.
The entrance door, of which the upper part was glazed, also boasted of a
curtain of dazzling whiteness. The interior of this establishment was in
the form of a lofty spacious hall. The stalls were just broad enough to
allow the hind feet of the cows to rest on the edge of a canal or gutter
a foot in depth, so that the straw might be kept perfectly clean. Just
over this gutter, and parallel with it, a rope had been stretched, and
to this rope the tails of the cows were tied, to prevent them from
whisking their sides and raising a dust. All these arrangements were
pleasing enough to the eye; but I fancy, if the poor animals had been
consulted, they would have voted for a little more freedom, although at
some sacrifice of neatness.

One compartment of the stable was partitioned off by a wall of planks
three feet high: it had a boarded floor, and formed quite a neat little
room, for the use of the farm attendants. The store-houses for milk,
cheese, and similar farm produce were as scrupulously clean as the
stable itself. The walls of the entrance halls, staircases, kitchen,
store-rooms, etc., in almost every house, are covered, to the height of
three or four feet from the ground, with tiles of white porcelain or
green clay, which are not so difficult to keep clean as whitewashed
walls.

It was at Herr Muysken’s house that, after a long abstinence, I enjoyed
the luxury of good milk to my coffee; milk pure and fresh as it comes
from the cow. One would think that in a country like Holland, where
there are so many cows, good milk could be had in abundance; but it is
not so; for the Hollander is such an enthusiast in making butter and
cheese, that, like the Swiss, he scarcely allows himself enough good
milk for domestic purposes. Almost every where, even in the wealthiest
families, the coffee was very indifferent.

While I am speaking of coffee-drinking, that most important subject for
us women, I can not help mentioning a custom prevalent throughout
Holland, which, in my humble opinion, is not very seemly or worthy of
imitation. As soon as the coffee or tea-drinking is over, the lady or
daughter of the house, or one of the female authorities, _washes_ the
tea-service at the table, in presence of the company. She pours a little
hot water in each of the cups, rinses them out, wipes them on a cloth,
and the business is done.

Herr Muyskens was kind enough to lead me right across the drained lake
to one of the three machines used for pumping out the water, and one or
other of which is occasionally put in requisition when there has been an
accumulation of rain-water. We came just in time to see one of these
machines at work.

We went on to Haarlem, where we saw the fine park, with the elegant
royal palace, and likewise a portion of the town. I noticed over the
door of a house an oval disk, about a foot and a half in length, covered
with pink silk, and ornamented with rich lace in ample folds. They told
me this was a sign that one of the inmates had recently become the
possessor of a baby. A strip of paper projecting above the disk
indicates that the new arrival is a girl. The custom dates from the old
warlike times, when the rough soldier respected the house where the
suffering mother lay, and the practice once prevailed throughout
Holland. It has now fallen into disuse, and is only kept up in Haarlem.

Besides Colonel Steuerwald, who paid me the kindest attention during my
stay in Holland, I was fortunate enough to meet another very amiable
friend, the “Resident” van Rees, whom the readers of my “Second Journey
round the World” will recollect I had encountered at Batavia. Herr van
Rees lived at the Hague; but as soon as he heard of my arrival in
Holland he came to Amsterdam to invite me to make a short tour through
his native country.

We began by an excursion to Utrecht, where a great Students’ Festival
happened to be going on when we arrived. The students are in the habit
of celebrating the foundation of the University by an annual
commemoration. The festivities are kept up for a whole week. They
comprise masked processions, concerts, balls, races, dinners,
illuminations, and much more of the same kind. This year the affair was
to be particularly brilliant. The worshipful students, it appears, were
divided into two factions, the aristocratic and the democratic. Each
party wished to out-shine the other, and had stipulated for an entire
week to carry out their laudable purpose.

We arrived in Utrecht during the aristocrats’ week. The concourse of
visitors was so great that we could not find room in any hotel;
fortunately for us, Herr and Frau Suermondt, friends of Herr van Rees,
received us with friendly hospitality in their house.

In the afternoon there was a procession. The students were all decked
out in the most costly dresses; nothing was to be seen but velvet,
satin, lace, and ostrich feathers. Some groups represented characters of
the sixteenth century; others figured as princes from Java, Hindostan,
etc., with their splendid retinues. There was even an Indian deity,
carried in a palanquin, and accompanied by a Malay band of music. Whole
scenes were represented in enormously long wagons, and some of these
were really very artistically arranged. Thus, for instance, a whole
house was shown, with the side walls taken out. A married pair sat at a
table; the wife had a child in her lap, and a second was playing about
at her feet; the family doctor and another friend were paying a visit,
chatting and drinking tea, while the maid was scouring the step in front
of the house.

On another wagon a wind-mill was perched; in front sat a man building a
boat, while a second mended his nets.

A third wagon showed the interior of a peasant’s farm, where butter was
being churned, sail-cloth woven, and ropes twisted. Next came a hunting
procession, the huntsmen carrying falcons on their wrists, and the whole
thing really capitally carried out. The procession was headed by
military music, and a second band brought up the rear. In the evening
the town was brilliantly illuminated with lamps of colored glass and gay
paper lanterns arranged in festoons along the streets and on both sides
of the canals. In some houses the whole façade was blazing with light,
and the portals and balustrades of the bridges glittered with thousands
of lamps. Some of the streets looked like fairy-land.

Toward midnight the procession came marching back with a number of
torches spitting forth blue and dark purple flames. The feast was not
over until two o’clock.

Gay and brilliant it was, I can not deny, but much too grand for
students. It might be allowable if the celebration only took place once
or twice in a century; even then a single day would be sufficient for
it; but in its present form the effect can not be beneficial. The young
men must occupy themselves for many weeks beforehand with their masks,
costumes, balls, and other delectations, much more than with their
studies. Moreover, the expenses are so great that only the rich can bear
them with ease; the poorer students must therefore abstain or run into
debt. For my part, I infinitely prefer the plain burlesque exhibited at
the Artists’ Festival at Munich, which, although inexpensive, was full
of merriment and wit, lasted only a day, and afforded as much, if not
more, pleasure to actors and spectators than could be extracted from
this students’ feast, with all its show and glitter.

The townspeople, too, are put to an amount of expense by the two
evenings’ illumination that must be any thing but welcome to the poorer
classes among them; but if they neglected to illuminate, the students
would be almost sure to break their windows or play them some other
silly trick.

Another custom of which I could not approve was the practice pursued by
the students of parading about the whole week in their fancy costumes,
as princes, knights, etc.

The second entertainment at which I was present consisted of a
horse-race and a few feats of horsemanship by professional
circus-riders. To say the truth, I expected something better. Tilting at
the ring, or a joust executed by the students in their fancy costumes,
would not have cost more, as they had dresses and horses all ready
provided, and would have been more worthy of the grand programme. On
this occasion I noticed how difficult it is to rouse the Hollander from
his phlegmatic repose. A Herr Loisset brought forward a beautiful and
marvelously trained horse, which performed such difficult feats as would
have called forth the loudest plaudits from any other audience. To my
surprise, the people remained as cold as ice, and Herr Loisset left the
circus with his horse without receiving the slightest token of
approbation.

The town of Utrecht is surrounded by very pretty shrubberies and
park-like plantations; but here, as every where else in Holland, the
want of hills and mountains is evident. There was not much to be seen in
the place. Of the churches, I only visited the Protestant cathedral,
allured by its majestic exterior. Unfortunately, I found the interior
defaced in an incredible way. As the church is very large, and the
congregation found a difficulty in hearing the sermons, a great and high
partition of boards had been erected--a church within the church. Of
course, this hideous plank-work, which occupies above half the entire
space, completely destroys the proper effect of the really beautiful
building.

My friendly host, Herr Suermondt, seemed reluctant to part with me, and
I readily accepted his hearty invitation to prolong my stay a little
while. The first days were devoted to the town itself and to the
fortifications; and here and there I snatched an hour for a visit to the
fine picture-gallery belonging to Herr Suermondt, and which he has
thrown open to strangers.

We also paid a visit to the favorite resort of the Utrechters--the
little village of Zeigst, a few miles from the town. The drive to this
place is charming. The road, paved with brick like most of the Dutch
high roads, leads us past pretty country houses with handsome gardens;
in many parts there are avenues of sturdy trees, of a thickness I have
seldom seen surpassed. Lime-trees, oaks, and beech-trees, and among the
latter particularly the red beeches, attain a height in Holland perhaps
unparalleled elsewhere.

In Zeigst there is an establishment of the Moravian brethren.




CHAPTER III.

     Zaandam.--The little Village of Broeck, celebrated for its
     Cleanliness.--Strange Head-dresses.--The Hague.--Celebrated
     Pictures.--Leyden.--Rotterdam.--Departure from Holland.


On my return from Utrecht to Amsterdam, Herr van Rees took me to Zaandam
and Broeck, an excursion which can be accomplished in a carriage in one
day.

Zaandam is famous as the place where Peter the Great worked for several
months as a carpenter in order to learn the art of ship-building. They
still show the wooden hut where he dwelt, and this is kept in the same
condition in which the great emperor left it. It consists of two plain
little rooms with a few wooden chairs and tables. To defend it from the
effects of the weather, a roof of brick-work has been built over it, and
in winter this is covered in at the sides with wooden planks. Zaandam,
with its thirteen thousand inhabitants, is a very cheerful little town.
Nearly every house is surrounded by its garden.

No less celebrated than Zaandam, but for another cause, is the little
village of Broeck, which has acquired fame by its exceeding cleanliness,
and that, moreover, in a country where the streets of the towns are
often cleaner than the interior of the houses in many other lands. I
expected, of course, to see something extraordinary, but must confess
that the reality surpassed my expectations.

The houses are all built of wood, and painted of some dark color. The
roofs are covered with glazed tiles, and the windows adorned with
handsome curtains, while every door-lock is so brightly polished as to
look as if it had been just fixed. All the houses stand in little
gardens, and each has three doors. One of these is never used but on
the most important events of life: when the bridegroom and bride go
forth to be married; when the child is carried to the font; and when man
is borne forth to take possession of his last earthly dwelling. This
strange fashion is found nowhere except in this village. Of the two
remaining doors, one is used for daily purposes of entrance and exit;
the other leads to the stable, which forms part of the building.

The somewhat narrow streets are bordered by wooden palings; behind the
houses room is left to drive in the cattle, to stack the harvest of hay,
etc. The streets were washed and swept so clean that, though they are
skirted by trees, I did not see a single leaf on the ground. The people,
I believe, keep no domestic animals except oxen and cows, for fear the
streets should be dirtied. Verily, this is carrying cleanliness to
extremes.

We went into several of the houses. The rooms showed the perfection of
cleanliness and adornment. The floors were covered with plain carpets or
mats, and every piece of furniture polished so highly that it looked
like new, though, to judge from the shape of the different pieces, they
evidently dated from the last century. The interior arrangements were
handsome enough, with plenty of glazed cupboards, full of all kinds of
rarities, particularly china, among which I noticed specimens of Chinese
and Japanese manufacture. I saw no beds; their place was supplied by
false cupboards in all the rooms, which are metamorphosed into couches
at night; but great was the store of bed and table linen. The floors of
these rooms must not be desecrated by shoes; like the Oriental, the
Dutch peasant leaves his slippers at the door. It certainly does not
cost him much trouble to divest himself of them, for they are of wood,
and he has only to kick them off. Not but that he has better ones for
Sundays and visiting days; it is only at his work that he is shod with
wood.

The cow-stables were far handsomer than those I had seen at Herr
Muysken’s establishment in the Lake of Haarlem. They consist of long
halls, with handsome ceilings, resting on pillars of wood. But a stable
of this kind is, in fact, only half a stable, for the cattle only live
in it during the winter. On the first of May the beasts are driven to
pasture, and there they remain until the first of November, and during
this time the farmer may be said to make a summer residence of his
stable. The hall is divided into compartments or rooms by partitions
four feet high, and in these rooms the family lives the whole of the
day, only using the real dwelling-house at night. The walls and pillars
of the hall are hung with glittering paraphernalia of china, plates,
dishes, and metal cans, and even pictures are seen there. The implements
for making butter and cheese are ranged in perfect order in the various
compartments, and every thing glistens and gleams as brightly as if it
had never been used. Not a stain, not an atom of dust is tolerated any
where.

It happened to be on a Sunday that we visited Broeck, and the villagers
were at church. We proceeded there to see them in their Sunday garb.
There was nothing peculiar in the costume of the men, who were all very
neat and tidy; but all the women wore that unhappy head-dress, common
throughout Holland, which seems to have been invented to deprive the
female sex of its chief natural ornament, for it entirely conceals the
hair.

This head-dress, probably invented of old by some dame of high degree
who had lost her hair, is worthy of a particular description. A hoop of
gilt metal encircles the head. This hoop is about an inch and a quarter
in width at the forehead, increasing to two inches at the back of the
head. This fillet is surmounted by a white cap, fitting tight to the
skull, and trimmed with broad folds of lace, while a long strip of the
same fabric hangs down over the shoulders. Chased gilt ornaments an
inch and a half long, and an inch broad, are attached to each temple,
producing very much the effect of the blinkers with which the bridles of
carriage-horses are furnished. Three little locks of silk hang down over
the eyes. This head-dress certainly has no pretensions to taste, but has
the advantage of being subject to no change in fashion. It is expensive
enough, costing generally from sixty to eighty Dutch guilders, and even
some hundreds in the cases of rich people, who ornament their coifs with
pearls and precious stones; but these are heir-looms, descending from
generation to generation.

Many women absolutely place a structure of straw, with a broad brim bent
upward in front and behind, on this wonderful cap when they go out, and
this queer affair they call a hat. I was astonished to find that girls
and women endowed by nature with beautiful hair subjected themselves to
this foolish fashion--the motive could scarcely be vanity.

In the remaining costume of the women I found nothing very worthy of
remark. On Sunday they all wear gowns of black merino. The fashionable
world dresses as it does every where else; and some of the citizens’
wives paid homage to the present fashion so far as to wear a stylish
bonnet over their hideous Dutch caps.

On the following morning, my indefatigable Mentor, Herr van Rees, took
me to the Hague to see his family.

The Hague, a city of eighty thousand inhabitants, does not look so
ancient as Amsterdam, but is very much cleaner, principally from the
fact that the Hague is not such a manufacturing and commercial city as
Amsterdam. Like all Dutch cities, it is intersected by numerous canals.
The Hague is the seat of government and the abode of the court, the
foreign embassadors, and officials generally. The king has several
palaces, not remarkable either for size or for their architecture. They
look merely like handsome private houses. The old chief palace, built in
the town itself, is a fortress surrounded by moats, and built on a low
mound or redoubt. The heavy gates, the tower, and especially the dark
color with which it is stained all over, give this place an appearance
of antiquity.

About the churches there is not much to be said. The cathedral is a very
handsome building, dreadfully disfigured by being surrounded by a number
of mean-looking little houses.

The picture gallery, here called the “Museum,” owes its celebrity
chiefly to two pictures, which are reckoned among the great masterpieces
of the Dutch school--a cattle-piece in life size, by Paul Potter, and
Rembrandt’s “Doctor,” or “Anatomist.”

The cattle-piece is so true to nature, so warm in tone, and powerful in
execution, that one almost wonders, after a lengthened contemplation of
the work, to see the bull, the sheep, the cow, and the shepherd remain
so still and motionless, expecting them to begin to move.

The other picture is just as extraordinary in its way, but I thought the
subject less attractive. The surgeon is dissecting a corpse. He has just
laid open the palm of the hand and the arm sufficiently to expose the
whole system of veins and nerves, and he is explaining these to his
audience. The calmness of the operator, to whom the business is
familiar, and the rapt attention of his hearers, some of whom are
hanging upon his words, while others gaze fixedly upon the dissected
subject, are admirably rendered; in my poor opinion, this picture is the
great painter’s masterpiece. Besides these two great paintings, there
are many charming pieces by Steen, Ostade, Rubens, and others.

Herr de Boer’s bazar is well worth a visit. I have seen similar
establishments in other great towns, but none to compare with this. The
objects to be seen are innumerable, and are arranged in the most
attractive manner in large halls. There is a great variety, in
particular, of Chinese and Japanese objects. That Nature may not be
forgotten amid the charms of Art, these halls are surrounded by
beautiful green-houses, which, with their palms and cactuses,
sugar-canes, and coffee-trees, remind the Hollander who has returned
from India of the El Dorado he has left. Another arrangement,
unfortunately not universal, is, that all who come to Herr de Boer’s
bazar, whether purchasers or visitors, are alike treated with great
civility and attention.

The Dutch seat of government possesses a very fine park, whose fresh
verdure, glorious trees, and blooming slopes reminded me of the parks in
England. Very charming, too, is the road from the Hague to Scheveningen,
a fishing village on the coast, some half a dozen miles from the city,
and a place much frequented by the townspeople in summer for bathing
purposes. The action of the waves here is said to be particularly
invigorating. Thick shady avenues for pedestrians, carriages, and horses
extend to the entrance of the village. Scarce a sunbeam struggles
through the thick foliage, so that there is coolness and refreshment on
the hottest day of summer. Unfortunately, however, real summer days are
very sparingly meted out to the Hollanders, the full power of the sun
being felt only for a short period in this land. It was in June that I
visited Holland, and yet it was only at noon that I found it agreeable
to lay aside my warm cloak. In the evening and the morning the
thermometer often showed only six to eight degrees Réaumur, and in the
night the mercury must have sunk some degrees lower. They told me,
however, that this year was an exceptionally cold one, and strong north
winds were continually blowing.

From the Hague I made a few excursions--one to the city of Leyden, and
another to the busy port of Rotterdam.

Leyden is a very dull place. In the busiest streets it is very easy to
count the passengers, and it very seldom happens that one must step
aside to avoid a passing carriage. But the place possesses great Art
treasures. The museums of Leyden are celebrated for their great
collections, particularly of specimens of animals, fishes, and reptiles,
and likewise of skulls of men of almost every race. The Museum of
Antiquities possesses many rolls of Egyptian papyrus, mummies, and
Egyptian and Buddhist idols.

Messrs. Leeman and Schlegel, the curators of these museums, were
obliging enough to conduct us through them in person. Unhappily, our
time was so limited that we could only give a passing glance at all
these wonders. The museums are separated, because it was impossible, we
were told, to find a single building with the requisite number of great
rooms. The collections are at present deposited in ordinary
dwelling-houses.

The Japanese Museum, an exceedingly complete collection of the natural
and artificial products of that country, is the private property of Dr.
Siebold.

If Leyden did not appear very attractive to me as a city, I was much
delighted with Rotterdam: if I had to fix my residence in one of the
cities of Holland, it should certainly be here. In this rich commercial
town there is business and bustle all day long, especially on the
canals, which are broader and deeper than those of the other towns, and
as navigable for great three-masted ships as for little cockboats.

Few towns offer such an aspect as Rotterdam, where marine colossi with
high masts, as well as smoking steamers, are seen parading, as it were,
through the middle of the city. I stood for hours at the window, and was
never weary of gazing. Yonder a great East Indiaman is slowly getting
under way; here a ship has just arrived from a long voyage, and the
sailors are shouting, waving their caps, and calling to their wives,
who, informed of the vessel’s arrival, stand waiting on the banks of the
canal. Here weighty chests of sugar and bags of coffee are being dragged
out of the hold of a ship and deposited in the huge warehouses; there
they are loading a brig with Dutch produce for conveyance abroad;
steamers of all sizes are swirling by every moment, and hundreds of
boats dart to and fro among them. To be able to see all this from my own
window seems so strange, that I rub my eyes, fancy myself in a dream,
and refuse to believe in the reality.

Rotterdam has many great and handsome houses; some are particularly
remarkable for having flat terraces instead of ordinary roofs. The park
adjoins one of the best streets; though less spacious than the Haagsche
Bosch, it is charmingly laid out.

In Rotterdam I took leave of my worthy and generous friend, Herr van
Rees. The good-nature of this gentleman was so great, that he wished to
take me through the whole of Holland, as far as Gueldres and Friesland;
but it would have been more than encroaching on my part to take
advantage of his liberal offer. I alleged that the time had come when I
must embark on my new journey, and that I must proceed at once to London
to make the necessary preparations.

My stay in Holland had been a brief one--about a fortnight. During this
time I had seen many interesting things, but few scenes of natural
beauty. In this respect Holland is poor. A great portion of the land,
having been won from the sea, necessarily consists of a continuous
plain, broken here and there only by low banks and “dunes,” about twenty
or thirty feet high. In Gueldres and Friesland, these “dunes,” or sandy
banks, are said to attain a height of from fifty to a hundred feet. The
views, therefore, show the same features every where--green meadows,
with cattle grazing, a few fields, pretty shrubberies, great massive
trees, and neat farms and villages. The picture thus presented is
cheerful enough, but when one has it continually before one’s eyes it
soon becomes monotonous, and creates a craving for the sight of
mountains, or, at least, of a range of hills.

The most striking objects to the traveler in Holland are the numerous
canals, great and small, which intersect both town and country in all
directions. Every patch of field, every meadow, is, as it were, a little
island, surrounded in all directions by canals two or three feet broad.

The part of Holland through which I passed consists principally of marsh
land. As far as the eye can reach, it rests upon pastures full of
fine-looking cattle, which constitute the chief wealth of the country.
In Holland there are about 1,130,000 head of cows, oxen, and calves, to
a population of 3,200,000 souls, a proportion to which no other country
presents a parallel. No wonder that Holland provides half the world with
butter and cheese.

The soil is decidedly fertile--witness the fat pastures and meadows, the
plentiful crops of great heavy corn-ears, and the strong, lofty trees. A
fruitful land is Holland, I will not deny, but certainly not a beautiful
one.




CHAPTER IV.

     London.--Paris.--Sitting of the Geographical Society.--News from
     Madagascar.--Popular Life in Paris.--Sights.--A Tale of
     Murder.--Versailles.--St. Cloud.--Celebration of Sunday.


On the 2d of July I quitted Rotterdam, and embarked in a steamer
belonging to Messrs. Smith and Ers for London (distance 150 sea-miles,
time of passage 20 hours). This company was the first English one that
refused to allow me to pay. I had already taken my passage; but, as soon
as Mr. Smith heard my name, he insisted, in the kindest way, on
returning me the passage-money.

In London I spent about four weeks with my worthy friend, Mr.
Waterhouse, of the British Museum; and on the 1st of August I proceeded
to Paris.

The chief aim of my journey was to visit the island of Madagascar, with
whose government the French alone have relations. I was therefore
obliged to go to Paris to obtain information respecting this, to me,
unknown country. To say the truth, I was not sorry for this; for,
strange as the fact may appear to many of my readers, in all my
wanderings through the world I had never visited Paris.

I reached that city on the morning of the 2d of August, and at once set
about my work. My fortunate star led me to make my first visit to
Monsieur Jaumard, the President of the Geographical Society, and on that
very evening the society was to hold its last meeting for the present
summer.

I had a very warm letter of recommendation to Monsieur Jaumard from
Professor Carl Ritter, of Berlin. Monsieur Jaumard received me in the
kindest manner, and invited me to be present at the sitting. I was
introduced by the celebrated geographer, Monsieur Malte-Brun. A place
was assigned to me at some distance from the table. At the commencement
of the sitting the president made a speech in which he introduced me to
the society, said a few words respecting my travels, and concluded by
proposing that I should be received as an honorary member. The assembled
members held up their hands in assent, and my admission was carried
without a dissentient voice.

I was as much gratified as astonished at this distinction, which I had
not anticipated in the least; my pleasure was all the greater from the
fact that my old tutor, who had taught me history and geography,
officiated as corresponding member of this same society. The president
rose, and led me from my place to the table, at which I now took my
place as a member, amid the cordial congratulations of the whole
company.

I immediately consulted the gentlemen present with respect to my
intention of undertaking a voyage to Madagascar: they were unanimous in
thinking the plan quite impracticable under existing circumstances.
During my stay in Holland I had already gleaned from newspaper reports
that the French government intended sending a squadron to Madagascar,
and that a serious war was considered imminent. I now learned some
farther particulars. The French have for centuries possessed a little
island, called St. Maria, on the coast of Madagascar. In the time of the
late king Radama they succeeded in obtaining a footing in Madagascar
itself by acquiring a district in the Bay of Vanatobé. In this district
there is a rich depôt for coals; and the French employ 180 colored
workmen, Indians, negroes, etc., from the Mauritius, under the
superintendence of three white men. On the accession of Queen Ranavola,
after the death of Radama, the new sovereign ordered these people to
evacuate the district. They refused to obey the mandate, as they
considered the place to be the property of the French government.
Hereupon the queen sent 2000 soldiers, who fell upon the community,
killed two white men and a hundred negroes, and dragged away the rest
and sold them as slaves. The French government naturally demanded
satisfaction, though there was little chance of obtaining justice
without resorting to violent measures; and thus every one was prepared,
as I have said, for the breaking out of a serious war.

Wherever I made inquiries, these reports were confirmed; and I
consequently found myself compelled, if not to give up the plan of my
journey, at all events to modify it. As a matter of precaution, I took
with me a letter of recommendation from the French Admiralty to the
commanders of their vessels on foreign stations. I was asked to wait for
the return of the emperor, who had gone to some bathing-place, that I
might be introduced to him; but that would have kept me too long; and I
quitted Paris with my business in a very unfinished state.

The few days which I spent in this great city I utilized as much as
possible in getting at least a glance at its many objects of interest.
Of course I should not dream of giving an accurate description of what I
saw. The rage for traveling is so universal at the present day, and the
facilities for getting over hundreds of miles of ground, at least in
Europe, in a few days’ time, are so great, that a large majority of my
readers have probably been to Paris themselves; and those who have not
seen the great city are sure to know, from the descriptions of other
travelers, as much as I could tell them about it. I will, therefore,
only describe in a very few words the impressions I carried away with
me.

London and Paris differ as widely from one another as the English
character from the French. In both cities there is plenty of life and
bustle; but one can see at the first glance that in Paris it is not all,
as in London, a _business life_. One does not see those rigid
self-contained figures, wending their way with restless steps, careless
of all that is passing around them, and seeming to consider every wasted
minute as an irreparable loss. In Paris, lounging seems the order of the
day, and even the bustling man of business finds time to greet his
friends and exchange a few words with them, and to pause, moreover, for
a few minutes in front of this or that shop, and admire the wares
displayed with such really wonderful taste in the window.

The houses themselves don’t look so grave as the London domiciles. They
are of large size (for in some more than thirty families live), and are
not nearly so much blackened by coal-smoke as the London houses are. The
doors are all open, and afford a view into neat court-yards, which are
sometimes adorned with flowers--decidedly a more agreeable aspect than
the tightly-closed doors of London, which seem to give the houses an
uninhabited look.

In the evening the difference is most perceptible, for then the
characteristic restlessness and love of pleasure inherent in the French
display themselves in full force. All the streets, the public squares,
the places of amusement, are equally crowded; and the Englishman,
accustomed to spend his evenings in the family circle, by the fireside,
for seven or eight months in the year, and in the garden of his cottage
during the remaining four or five, might fancy, on first seeing the
pressure and crush in the streets of Paris, that some public festival
was being celebrated.

The centres of all this life are the Boulevards; and very bright and
fairy-like is the scene there, on a fine summer evening, with their
magnificent cafés standing wide open, and splendid shops, bright as day
with the glare of thousands of gas-lamps, and with their motley crowd of
carriages in the roads and of pedestrians, either wandering to and fro
on the broad pavements, or sitting at neat little tables in front of the
coffee-houses.

The Champs Elysées are no less attractive, though they scarcely realize
their name of _fields_; for, except in the short space between the Place
de la Concorde and the Rondpoint, trees and grass-plots have begun to
vanish rather rapidly, to be replaced by handsome houses and hotels. The
view in the Champs Elysées is closed by one of the finest monuments of
modern architecture--the Arc de l’Etoile--a colossal triumphal arch,
built by Napoleon the Great, in the style of the Roman gate of Septimius
Severus. The chief victories of the great conqueror are sculptured with
exquisite skill on this monument.

A broad road, or avenue, which in a short time will probably also be
quite filled with houses, leads from this point to the celebrated Bois
de Boulogne. The name of this wood was so frequently in every body’s
mouth, that I naturally expected to see a forest of great sturdy trees,
something in the style of the “Prater” at Vienna, or the “Thiergarten”
at Berlin; but it was not so. In spite of its age, the Bois de Boulogne
has never become a forest. The trees have remained small and spare, and
it is a difficult matter to find a shady spot. The new and tasteful
arrangement of this locality, and the addition of a beautiful fountain,
are due to the present emperor, Napoleon III. He seems to be so
fortunate in all his undertakings, that I should not wonder if he
succeeded in making the trees grow.

The Tuileries Gardens are not very spacious, but they contain glorious
specimens of venerable old trees. Here, as in all public places in
Paris, chairs in abundance are to be had. You must pay for them; but the
sum asked is very moderate--one sou per chair, whether you are a tenant
for five minutes or for half a day.

Between the Champs Elysées and the Tuileries Gardens lies the Place de
la Concorde, one of the finest squares in Europe. In old times it was
called the Place Louis XV.; and here it was that the guillotine worked
with horrible industry during the years 1792, 1793, and 1794, numbering
Louis XVI., Marie Antoinette, Philippe Egalité, Marie Helène of France,
Robespierre, and hundreds besides, among its victims. Now this place is
adorned by two beautiful fountains, and on the spot occupied by the
guillotine rises the great obelisk of Luxor. This obelisk, seventy-two
feet in height, and of five hundred thousand pounds weight, is hewn out
of a single block of stone: 1550 years before the Christian era it was
set up in front of a temple at Thebes, in Upper Egypt. Mehemet Ali
presented it to the French government. Louis Philippe had a ship built
at Toulon expressly for its conveyance to France, peculiarly fashioned,
so as to ascend the Nile to Luxor, near Thebes. Eight hundred men were
engaged for three months in removing the obelisk from the temple to the
ship. In the month of December, 1833, it arrived in Paris, but its
erection was not accomplished until October, 1836. The cost of
transporting and setting it up amounted to two millions of francs.

Late building operations have completely united the palace of the
Tuileries with the Louvre, so that the two now form a single
structure--undoubtedly the grandest of its kind in Europe. A few years
ago houses of irregular architecture separated these two palaces, and
the quarter of Paris surrounding them is said to have been one of the
most extensive and the dirtiest in the city. Louis Philippe intended to
have these old buildings pulled down, and to build broad straight
streets that should unite the Tuileries with the Louvre; but millions of
money were required to realize the idea, and constitutional kings can
not dispose of the funds of the state at their own sweet will. Napoleon
arranged all that more conveniently; the Senate and the Corps
Legislatif, far more accommodating than were their predecessors, the
Chambers of Peers and of Deputies, are always happy to fulfill the
wishes of their sovereign.

There is so much to be seen in both these palaces, in the way of
pictures, antiquities, models of fortresses, ships, and other
curiosities, that one might wander about for weeks in the labyrinth of
halls and galleries, quite unconscious of the lapse of time. One of the
apartments is dedicated entirely to relics of Napoleon the First. Here
are to be seen his tent-bed, his writing-table, his arm-chair, his
robes, various uniforms and hats, many golden keys of conquered cities
and fortresses, Turkish and Arabian saddles, and many other properties.
The worshipers of this modern Cæsar attach a great value to the
handkerchief with which the death-damps were wiped from his brow at St.
Helena. Not one of the other members of the Bonaparte family is
represented by any article in the collection, except perhaps the Duke of
Reichstadt, one of whose coats is displayed there.

The Luxembourg Gardens, on the south bank of the Seine, are very
prettily laid out. The palace, built in a severe style, possesses a rich
gallery of pictures, mostly modern pieces. The halls and chambers are
arranged with great splendor and true artistic taste.

Of the churches I visited but few. Notre Dame is distinguished by its
pure Gothic architecture. The church of St. Geneviève is one of the
oldest in Paris. It contains the tomb of the patroness of Paris, in a
neat chapel, built in the Byzantine style, behind the chief altar. In
the church of St. Sulpice, the façade, with its double rows of pillars
and a gallery, is remarkable. In the background of this church, in a
kind of niche, is a marble statue representing the Virgin Mary standing
with the infant Jesus on a globe. A cupola-shaped roof, with a beautiful
fresco of the Ascension, rises over the statue, which, exquisitely
chiseled, and with the light falling upon it with magic effect, has a
most solemn and impressive appearance. Again, I could not help remarking
the amount of poetry and effect developed in the Roman Catholic
religion--and what an advantage does this effect give it among the
excitable masses of the people, over the simple and rather monotonous
forms of Protestant worship! It is unfortunate, however, that abuses,
more or less objectionable, have every where crept in, and are very
damaging, if not entirely destructive, to this poetic feeling. Take, for
instance, the wretched custom adopted in French churches of paying for
chairs. There are few or no benches, but great stores of chairs are
heaped up against the walls. For each chair the charge is a sou; and at
the end of the year all these sous no doubt make up a round sum, which
is very welcome to the worthy dignitaries of the church; but the
devotions of the congregation are terribly disturbed. Every moment the
verger comes pushing his way through the people; first he brings a
chair, then takes one away; now he asks for money, and then he chats
with some regular customer. And is not the idea of being obliged to pay,
in a temple of God, for the right of sitting down, enough in itself to
drive away all serious and devout thoughts?

The Pantheon is built in the Grecian style; the interior forms a cross.
This church contains monuments of many celebrated Frenchmen. I felt the
greatest interest in those of J. J. Rousseau and Voltaire.

The Hôtel des Invalides is a magnificent institution for the reception
of 5000 old soldiers who have been frequently wounded in battle, or have
lost an arm or a leg. The building seems very conveniently arranged, and
the old pensioners are said to be well treated; but no one has thought
of providing a grass-plot for their delectation. Even the courts are
destitute of trees and benches. The officers have had a small garden
laid out at their own expense. The dome of the “Invalides” is of great
size. The interior is ornamented with a great number of captured flags,
and on the walls appear great tablets, graced with the names of
celebrated generals. Behind the high altar is the chapel, where the
remains of Napoleon, solemnly brought from St. Helena in 1840, are to
rest until the mausoleum is finished. It was nearly completed at the
time of my visit. It consists of a beautiful rotunda, surrounded by
twelve pillars, with twelve colossal statues of marble in the
intervening spaces. The floor is likewise of marble, with a laurel
wreath in mosaic surrounding the sarcophagus, which is cut out of a
single block of porphyry. The entrance porch, from which two flights of
steps lead downward into the rotunda, is supported by two gigantic
statues. The gate and the statues, which are of bronze, are beautifully
executed. The part of the church that rises over the mausoleum is nearly
covered with gilding, and when the full light of day shines upon it the
effect is magical.

With the celebrated cemetery of Père la Chaise I was greatly
disappointed; but seeing the cemetery at New York had perhaps spoiled me
for admiring any other. The graves are certainly adorned with tombs,
flowers, and shrubs, but every thing is so crowded together that there
is scarcely room to walk. The number of monuments distinguished by grace
and richness of adornment is small, and their effect is lost by their
position. The most interesting among these is that of Abélard and
Heloise, who died in the twelfth century, and whose ashes were removed
to this resting-place in the nineteenth.

The graves of the poor are in a division by themselves. Here I found on
many--particularly on the graves of children--monuments that seemed to
me much more attractive and more touching than the tombs of the rich.
They consisted of little glass cases, containing tiny altars, on which
the favorite playthings of the dead babies were displayed. In one I
noticed a tiny basket, in which lay the thimble and sewing implements of
some industrious little worker whose labor here on earth was finished--a
simple memorial, but one that spoke eloquently to the heart!

The cemetery of Père la Chaise was not opened till the year 1804; it
contains 100 acres, and is entirely surrounded by a high wall. The view
from the hill that rises in the midst is the best reward for a very
toilsome walk.

I could only pay a flying visit to the Jardin des Plantes and the
Museum. The wealth of the former in exotic plants and animals is well
known; both institutions are reckoned among the most remarkable in
Europe.

I was much pleased with my visit to the Manufacture des Gobelins, or, as
I might term it, Picture Carpet. This tapestry is wrought with such
perfection, that a close inspection is required to convince the beholder
he is gazing, not at an oil-painting, but a woven fabric. The drawing is
very correct, and the mingling and transition of the various colors
delicate and finished, as if a practiced pencil had been at work. For
hours I stood watching the workmen, without obtaining the slightest clew
to the secret of the art they practiced. The workman has a kind of large
frame before him, on which the threads, or tissue, or warp (I am
unacquainted with the right term) are perpendicularly fastened; at his
side he has a huge basket of Berlin wool, wound on shuttles, and of all
imaginable hues and shades. The picture he has to copy is not a worked
pattern divided into squares, but an oil-painting; and it is not placed
in front of the artistic weaver, but behind him. He works at the wall of
threads before him, beginning from below and making his way upward,
without even sketching the picture he wants to copy; I noticed some
workmen, however, who had indicated the part at which they were
working--a foot, for instance, or a hand--by a few strokes on the edge
of the frame. Those men who imitate Persian and Indian carpets,
producing fabrics a quarter of an inch thick, and which resembles cut
velvet, have the original, also an oil-painting, suspended above their
heads. In some apartments the most gorgeous Gobelins were displayed.
They are very dear; a piece of tapestry, fifteen to twenty feet in
height by eight or ten in breadth, will cost from 100,000 to 150,000
francs. But then a workman has frequently to labor for ten or more years
at such a piece. The wages of the workmen are not very high; I was told,
however, that after a certain number of years of service they receive a
pension, which is granted in a shorter period should they become blind
over their work--a calamity which not unfrequently befalls them.

My last visit was to the Morgue, where the bodies of persons found dead
are exposed for identification by relatives or friends. Many of my
readers will perhaps wonder how I, a woman, could visit such a place;
but they must remember that, during my journeyings, I have frequently
been face to face with death, and that its aspect, consequently, was
less terrible to me than to the majority of people; and I can therefore
look at times even with a kind of mournful complacency upon its image,
mindful of that last journey all of us must take.

The Morgue is a large vaulted apartment, divided into two halves by a
partition of glass. In the division behind the glass wall are six or
eight low tables, or slabs, on which the corpses are laid out. The
clothes they had on when found are hung upon the walls. The other half
of the room is for the visitors, among whom, if any of the bodies show
marks of violence, secret agents of the police are accustomed to mingle,
to glean from the expression of countenance, or from any chance remark,
a clew by which to track the criminal. The corpses are thus exposed for
three days, but the clothes are left hanging for a longer period. The
most terrible sights are sometimes seen here. Thus I saw a male corpse
that had lain for some months in the water, and on the next table a
young girl whose head had been completely cut off; it had afterward been
sewn on the neck. The poor creature had been murdered by her lover
through jealousy. A remarkable incident in this murder was that the
perpetrator, disturbed in the very fact, leaped from the window of a
room on the sixth story without injuring himself. He scrambled up from
the ground and ran away. Three days afterward, when I left Paris, he had
not been apprehended.

I was told that a few weeks before, some fishermen had brought in a
table-leaf with the body of a woman tied to it, but the head and feet
were missing. The fishermen had discovered the body in the river by
chance; it had been weighted with stones, and sunk. All possible
measures were immediately taken by the authorities to find the head and
feet; and, contrary to expectation, they were eventually found, though
hidden in separate places. The body was then put together and exposed in
the Morgue. One of the secret agents quickly noticed among the
spectators an old woman who could scarcely suppress an exclamation on
seeing the corpse. When she left the room the agent requested her to
accompany him to the commissary, and on being asked if she knew the
deceased, she replied that she recognized in the poor creature a
likeness to a woman who had lived in her neighborhood a short time ago,
but who had lately removed to quite another quarter of the town. Farther
questioning brought out the fact that the murdered woman had come from
the provinces a few months before with a sum of money, intending to
carry on some small trade in Paris; she made acquaintance with a man who
professed himself willing to serve her, and announced to her, after a
short time, that he had found a better and cheaper dwelling for her. She
accepted his offer, left her old domicile without giving the address of
her new one, and since that time nothing more had been heard of her.
Inquiries were made of the commissionaires, or porters of the
neighborhood, one of whom remembered carrying her luggage, and pointed
out the house where he had deposited it. A secret agent betook himself
thither, but found the door locked. At his summons the porter appeared.
The agent asked him if a Monsieur X---- did not live in that house; and
on receiving an answer in the negative, added, “That is very singular,
for the address is quite correct,” at the same time showing a paper. The
porter declared there must be some mistake, for the house belonged to
Monsieur L----, who passed the greater part of the year in the country,
but had given particular orders that not a single room should be let.
The agent departed, but the house was watched, and at about eleven
o’clock at night two suspicious-looking characters were seen to enter.
After making sure that there was no other means of exit, a sufficient
number of armed policemen rushed into the house, and secured the porter
and his two associates without much resistance. The house was carefully
searched, and in one of the rooms they discovered not only the
frame-work of the table on a leaf of which the woman had been bound, but
traces of blood, and the bloodstained axe with which the unhappy
creature, lured into the house by the murderers, had been killed. But
enough of these horrors, of which, alas! Paris offers but too many
examples.

My excursions in the environs of the capital were limited to Versailles,
Trianon, and St. Cloud, which I visited on one and the same day.

The railway takes one, in an hour, to Versailles, past the little town
of Sèvres, celebrated for its great porcelain manufactory. Sèvres is
picturesquely situated in a broad valley watered by the Seine. The
railroad runs, throughout nearly the whole distance, parallel with the
valley at a considerable elevation, so that the traveler sees the
charming, highly-cultivated country gliding past like scenes in a magic
lantern.

As regards Versailles itself, I candidly confess myself unable to
describe it. I can only assure my readers that such splendor in
buildings, gardens, halls, pictures, and general arrangements could
only arise in France, under a king like Louis XIV., who rivaled the
Romans themselves in luxury, and held the modest opinion that _he_ was
the state, and the people but an accessory to his greatness.

Hurrying through the lofty halls, and marking the innumerable pictures,
representing battles, assaults, burning towns and villages, with the
inhabitants half naked and in full flight, I could not help asking
myself in what we are superior to the wild Indian. Our civilization has
refined our customs, but our deeds have remained the same. The savage
kills his enemies with a club; we slay ours with cannon balls. The
savage hangs up scalps, skulls, and similar trophies in his wigwam; we
paint them on canvas to decorate our palaces withal; where, then, is the
great difference?

At St. Cloud I could only visit the gardens, the palace being occupied
by the empress. The fountains here are said to be very grand, but they
do not play every Sunday. It was on a Sunday that I went to St. Cloud,
but, unfortunately, not on one of the high days; there were, however,
pedestrians in plenty, and, had I been an Englishwoman, I should have
been horrified; for there were children here, and even young men and
maidens, so lost to all sense of propriety as to play at ball on a
Sunday!

I have already observed that the good Parisians are rather too fond of
pleasure, and I am ready to allow that too much of any thing is
objectionable; but, on the other hand, I submit, even at the risk of
being anathematized as unchristianlike by English ladies generally, that
it is quite natural for people who have to sit for the whole week long
at the work-table, in the shop, or in the counting-house, to indulge in
a little recreation on Sundays. I can not imagine the bountiful Creator
of all things looking with displeasure upon really innocent relaxation.
It is all very well for rich people, who can amuse themselves every day
in the week, and let their children have a holiday on Saturday, to make
it a rule to observe the Sabbath strictly; but to the poor man, who
works hard all the six days to maintain himself and his family in
honesty, the Almighty will surely grant permission to forget his cares
in harmless pleasure on the seventh.




CHAPTER V.

     Return to London and Holland.--Separation Festival in
     Amsterdam.--Departure from Rotterdam.--My traveling
     Companions.--Emigrant Children.--Story of a poor Girl.--Cape
     Town.--Fortunate Meeting.--Alteration of my traveling Plans.


On the 12th of August I left Paris, as I have said, with my business
unconcluded, and returned to London.

After mature deliberation, I had at length taken my resolution. The
exceedingly kind reception I had met with in the Dutch Indies on my last
journey aroused in me the wish to make a second voyage in the same
direction, particularly as there were many islands yet to be explored.
The state of affairs in Madagascar might also change during my absence,
and on my return I might find it possible to visit this almost unknown
region. I made inquiries about the price of a passage, but found it was
£75--too much for my purse. As a special favor, I was to be allowed a
reduction of five pounds; but I hoped to find more favorable conditions
offered in Holland, and the sequel proved that I was not mistaken.

Before leaving London I paid a visit to Mr. Shaw, the Secretary of the
Geographical Society. He had read in the papers of the honor accorded to
me by the Geographical Society of Paris. He seemed somewhat embarrassed,
and expressed his regret that a similar step could not be taken in
London, inasmuch as it was expressly forbidden by the statutes to
receive a woman as a member. I wonder what the emancipated ladies of the
United States would say to such a prohibition! That I should not be
received was natural enough, for I can not lay claim to a deep
knowledge of any branch of the science. But no one will doubt the
existence of many really scientific women at the present day, and to
exclude such persons merely on account of their sex I think
incomprehensible. It might pass in the East, where the female sex is not
held in great estimation, but not in a country like England, which
professes to take pride in its civilization, and to keep pace with the
spirit of the times.

So far as I am personally concerned, I have every reason to be grateful
to the Geographical Society of London. It made me a valuable present,
without my having taken any steps in the matter; for it never was my way
to thrust myself forward or to petition for any thing.

On the 22d of August I again set foot on Dutch soil, and it was in
Rotterdam. My valued friend, Colonel Steuerwald, had recommended me to
Herr Baarz; and by this friendly and exceedingly obliging gentleman I
was received in the heartiest manner, and spent some very agreeable days
in his house. Herr Baarz introduced me to Herr Oversee, one of the
principal ship-owners of Rotterdam. One of his ships was just ready to
sail for Batavia; she was to be dispatched at the end of August. This
was a capital opportunity for me. But Herr Oversee tried to dissuade me
from going in this ship, as all the berths were not only taken, but
overcrowded as far as the Cape of Good Hope, where the vessel was to
touch. Besides the cabin passengers, there was to be a whole cargo of
children, boys and girls, of from ten to fourteen years of age, nearly a
hundred in number, who had been bespoken by Dutchmen settled at the
Cape, to be trained as men-and maid-servants. As I heard that a separate
part of the ship had been allotted to the girls, and that they had been
placed under the superintendence of a matron, and as I was anxious not
to miss this opportunity of starting, I urged Herr Oversee to give me a
berth in this portion of the ship. The kind man acquiesced at once. He
put me on a par with the first-class passengers as to diet and other
details: from the Cape to the end of my journey I was to have a separate
cabin, and the charge for the entire voyage was not more than twelve
pounds ten shillings sterling.

This affair concluded, I went to Amsterdam to take leave of the amiable
Steuerwald family, and came just in time to be present at some public
festivities, celebrated, as it seemed to me, on very extraordinary
grounds. The festival was in honor of the separation effected between
Belgium and Holland twenty-five years before. This separation had been
any thing but voluntary on the part of Holland, but it was nevertheless
commemorated with great enthusiasm. The affair had already been going on
for some days when I arrived, and was not to be finished under three or
four more. Dutchmen seem to think it impossible to get through with a
holiday under a week. On the other hand, the people are certainly very
moderate in their requirements: all they want is license to parade about
the streets from morning till late in the evening, to look at a few
flags and wooden triumphal arches, and to see those who really do feast
drive past on their way to banquets and to balls.

The chief solemnity was fixed for the 27th of August, the anniversary of
the “separation.” I arrived on the afternoon of the 26th, and found
every window decorated with flags, little triumphal arches here and
there, gay with green boughs and colored paper, and such a crowd in the
streets that my carriage could scarcely force its way through.

Next day there was certainly something extra to be seen. In spite of the
streams of rain which kept pouring from the heavens (perhaps in token of
mourning for the “separation”), the military turned out on parade; the
king appeared on a tribune erected in the cathedral square, opposite the
palace, listened to the speeches of the burgomaster, and of the leaders
of the troops who still survived from those days, and made speeches in
reply. Four hundred children sang the national anthem and other hymns. A
monument was moreover uncovered--an obelisk, with the Goddess of Union
standing thereupon, and its base resting on the heads of many lions,
from whose open jaws streams of water gushed forth. In the evening we
had a display of fire-works and illuminations.

I should not like to incur the imputation of passing a hasty judgment
upon the people, nor do festivities of this description afford much
opportunity for forming an opinion, for the same curiosity and the same
contentment are found among the people all the world over when there is
any thing to be seen. I was, however, disagreeably impressed here, as I
had been already at the Hague and at Utrecht, by the frequent appearance
of groups of slatternly women, three or four of them arm-in-arm, pushing
their way noisily through the crowd, and sometimes even heading troops
of half-drunken men, like so many Megæras, shouting and dancing as
noisily as the topers themselves. This the Hollanders call jollity. I
call it shamelessness; and am always grieved to see women fallen so low
as to brazen out their shame in the face of the world.

After a hearty farewell to my friends I returned to Rotterdam, and on
the 31st of August I betook myself on board the “Salt-Bommel,” 700 tons
burden, Captain Juta, master.

Our ship was the first that was to carry a cargo of children from their
native land; and as the 31st of August happened to be Sunday, and a very
fine day, and as the Hollanders are just as inquisitive as any other
nation, it is not to be wondered at that from the early morning the
quays and the shore were lined with thousands of spectators. The good
people had the consolation of looking at our ship all day long, for the
steam-tug which was to take us in tow as far as the Nieuwe Sluis did not
make its appearance till four o’clock in the afternoon.

On board there was as much life and bustle as on shore. The children
came trooping in, a few at a time, accompanied by their relatives, and
laden with eatables and with little keepsakes. Here a mother might be
seen pressing her child to her bosom for the last time; there a father
gave his son a few last words of counsel and exhortation before the
journey began; and many parents, after several partings from their
children, came hastening back to take a last look at the beloved faces.
And when the ship at last moved from the shore, many were there who
could be seen crying “farewell” after distance had rendered the sound
inaudible. Handkerchiefs and hats were waved to wish us God-speed, and
mighty “hurrahs” were raised; the whole city seemed to take an interest
in our outgoing, as though the children had belonged to the people at
large. This universal sympathy and excitement was a good panacea against
mournful reflections. Children and parents shouted their loudest with
the rest; and if many a poor mother sat down and dropped a tear as she
parted from her darling, her low sob was drowned in the louder accents
of rejoicing and farewell.

Whenever we passed a village, the shouting and waving of handkerchiefs
began again. Happy youth, that can thus look forward with light heart to
the unknown future!

Our progress to-day did not extend beyond eight miles (I must always be
understood to mean _geographical_, or sea-miles, sixty to a degree). The
steam-tug took leave of us in the evening. On the following day we
drifted lazily as far as the wharf of Helvoetsluys, and here we had to
remain at anchor for some days, with what patience we might, waiting for
a wind.

These few days were enough to convince me that I must prepare myself for
a very uncomfortable voyage with very uncongenial companions.

The cargo of children was bound, as I have said, for the Cape Colony.
Some were to be landed at Cape Town, the others at Port Elizabeth, a few
hundred miles distant, on the northeast coast. At the Cape it is almost
impossible to get respectable industrious servants or artisans: people
there are compelled to employ Hottentots and Caffres, who will only hire
themselves out for a few days, or at most for a week or two; and they
frequently run away, leaving their work half done. The Dutch settlers,
therefore, bespeak children from their mother country, with the object
of training them up as servants and artisans.

These children receive board, lodging, and clothing from the day of
their embarkation. On reaching their destination they serve without
wages for the first two years and a half, during which time they are
considered as working off the expenses of their journey. For every
following year they receive, besides board and clothing, sixty Dutch
guilders (£5), one guilder per month being handed to them as
pocket-money. The other forty-eight guilders are deposited with the
authorities, and on completing their twenty-first year the balance is
paid over to them. They have then the right of leaving their masters,
should they wish to do so.

In several towns in Holland committees were formed for the selection of
these children. From the orphan asylums none were taken. The children
are asked, in the presence of the authorities, if they are content to
travel beyond sea. Unfortunately, however, the committee seem to have
taken matters very easily, and to have troubled themselves very little
about the prescribed regulations. Thus the _children_ were not children
at all; almost without exception they numbered from sixteen to twenty
years, instead of from ten to fourteen; and they must certainly have
been picked up out of the streets, for in all my life I never saw such
an amount of riff-raff collected together. The grown-up girls must have
been lounging about for years in the sailor’s taverns; the younger ones
followed the example of the elder, and the whole community swore like
the sailors themselves, sang the most uproarious songs, and stole from
one another. Their want of cleanliness was awful.

But I will not be too bitter against these poor wretches; and let him
who would condemn them consider the curse that weighs from their
birth-hour upon the children of poverty. It is not because they are
wretchedly clothed and half fed that I pity them so heartily; their
greatest misfortune consists in their having nobody to take charge of
the education of their hearts and minds. The parents are seldom capable
of fulfilling this trust, for did not the same curse rest upon their
infancy? They work hard through the day, and give their children the
indispensable bread, and think they have done their duty. If several
other children come, the loaf becomes insufficient, and they are obliged
to put the elder children to work at the earliest possible moment. If
this work to which they are put were but regular, it might be rather an
advantage to the child than otherwise; but what can a little boy or a
little girl of seven or eight years old do? Those who get into the
factories, or are bound apprentices, are the best off; but there is not
employment of this kind for all, and for many there is no refuge left
but to do all kinds of little offices in the streets, hawk newspapers,
sweep crossings, and run on errands. Left to themselves, without
guidance, without definite notions of right and wrong, and too often,
alas! with the evil example of their parents before their eyes, is it to
be wondered at if they at last succumb to the temptations that hover
round them in such varied forms?

Far more worthy of condemnation do those men appear to me to whom the
education of the people is intrusted, and who so often leave their duty
unperformed. They can not, like the children of the poor, plead
ignorance in their own defense; for if they fail, they do so with a full
consciousness of their offense.

I speak of the priests and schoolmasters, who, to my thinking, are the
most important men among the people; for in their hands lies the real
education of the rest. They are the chief personages in every village;
they can, if they earnestly desire it, effect an incalculable amount of
good, and the government ought to keep the most vigilant watch upon
them. Is this done? Alas! I fear not.

The clergymen are generally so little attended to by their consistories,
that the whole village will sometimes be crying out about the misconduct
of its minister, while his superiors know nothing about it. And if the
affair becomes too bad at length, what is the punishment? Simply his
translation to some other parish.

The schoolmasters, moreover, are so badly paid, that scarcely any one
will take up with this profession who can earn his living in another
way.

With a few notable exceptions, clergymen and schoolmasters think they
have done their duty when the former have preached a dry sermon on
Sundays, and the latter have managed to teach their pupils to read and
write. But how few, how very few, trouble themselves about the moral
training of the children intrusted to their charge, by teaching them the
difference between right and wrong, by endeavoring to rouse their hearts
and minds to healthy action, and, above all, by setting them a good
example!

We had a schoolmaster on board, Herr Jongeneel, and his wife: he was to
superintend the boys and she the girls. These good people ate their
rations with great perseverance, said many prayers and sang psalms, but
they cared very little about the behavior of those who had been
intrusted to them. The last note of the psalm had scarcely died upon the
lips of the girls before they would be hurrying away to the deck, where
they spent the evening and half the night bandying jests with the mates
and sailors. Even in the daytime their behavior was so unbecoming that
I and a married female passenger, with her step-daughter, were obliged
to pass nearly all our time in the cabin.

I hear that Herr Jongeneel is to have a post as a missionary at the
Cape. What is to be expected from such a man? He began the voyage with a
falsehood. He had assured the committee he had no children, yet came on
board with a child, and his wife was daily expecting another, which duly
arrived on the 3d of September.

Under these circumstances, it was, of course, impossible for me to sleep
in the girls’ cabin. Captain Juta, a very good, obliging man, saw this,
and as there was no other vacant place, he had a berth arranged for me
on a settle in the chief cabin. It was not very comfortable, for the
seat was not more than a foot broad, and it was a very difficult matter
to maintain my place upon it, particularly when the ship rolled.

The rest of the company consisted--besides the young wife, her
step-daughter, and myself--of eight or nine gentlemen, who were not the
most eligible of fellow-passengers. They were generally very fond of
seizing every opportunity of conversing with the girls, in a very
sailor-like style. In the evening there was often such a disturbance
that we quiet women could not find a peaceful spot on the deck where we
might enjoy a little fresh air. The gentlemen and the girls raced wildly
round the decks, pricked one another with needles, and shouted, laughed,
and screamed like denizens of the lowest public houses. Mr. Schumann, a
young chemist, was an honorable exception.

It was not till the 4th of September that a slight breeze arose, aided
by which (and a little steam-tug) we made our way into the North Sea.
The sails soon began to fill, and on the 5th we entered the English
Channel, through which we sailed in two days and a half--the quickest
run through this dangerous passage I have ever made in a sailing-vessel.

The 7th of September was a Sunday. The schoolmaster and missionary
expectant read the service with half-closed eyes, and with such an
appearance of unction and importance that one would have thought he had
been born a priest. His address or sermon was so dry and bald as to be
fit only for savages, who would not understand a word, good or bad. At
the dinner-table he seemed more at home--ye powers, what an appetite he
had! In the afternoon we had almost a calm. The captain, who was ever
ready to give pleasure to all, had a fine organ on board. He had it
brought on deck, and played, that the young people might dance. It was
quite a little festival. Every one was in good spirits, cheerful, and
decorous, for the captain remained present the whole time. The sailors
also sang, and danced among themselves or with the girls. The boys
clambered about the rigging, played with each other, or executed all
kinds of gymnastic feats. We passengers stood about in groups, watching
the gambols of the merry youngsters.

One of the girls took no part in the general hilarity. The poor thing
seemed the only one who felt how mournful it was to go forth into the
wide world without staff or stay. On the very first night which I passed
in the girls’ cabin I had been struck by her mournful countenance; she
had cried herself to sleep, called for her mother in her dreams, and in
the morning when she awoke, and saw all the strange faces round her, she
seemed to lose all courage, cowered in a corner, and wept long and
bitterly. Great indeed must have been the poverty of the parents that
induced them to part with a child who clung with such passionate
tenderness to the remembrance of home, and bitter the parting of the
poor mother from the child that was going to the far country with such a
slender prospect of returning. Surely there is a sharper sting in such a
parting than in following the remains of a beloved relative to the
church-yard. In the one case there is the consoling belief that the
soul is safe from harm, but alas for the perils that encompass soul and
body on a life-long journey among strange faces!

Oh, that all into whose houses these orphan children come would endeavor
to make up to them, by a little love, the mighty loss these poor
creatures have sustained! I tried to console the girl as well as I
could, and the good captain spoke kind words to her, and promised to
take her back to Europe if she did not feel happy at the Cape. But as
the girl’s sorrow wore off from day to day, she began to take
pleasure--as we find is too frequently the case--in the conduct of her
companions, and in a few weeks home and parents were alike forgotten.

The only girl on board whose behavior was uniformly good was one from
whom I should least have expected propriety of conduct. Mary, as they
called her, was the daughter, by a first marriage, of a man who had
married again shortly after the death of his first wife. There was a son
by this marriage, two years younger than Mary. The second wife disliked
her step-children, scolded them continually, and frequently ill treated
them, particularly when she had taken too much brandy, which she
appeared to do pretty frequently. When Mary had reached her eighteenth,
and her brother his sixteenth year, she declared that they were old
enough to earn their own living, and turned them out of the house. For
three months the poor creatures slept in the streets or in any corner
where they could get shelter; no one would receive them, no one would
take pity on the poor, ragged, half-starved wretches. They had learned
nothing, and could barely manage by begging, and by little earnings now
and then, to get a few farthings to buy bread. Once they had a hope of
seeing their condition improved. One evening, as they stood at the
corner of a street, they saw an elderly man crossing the road, and
leading a little girl by the hand. A merry boy of seven or eight years
of age was following them; he had loitered a few paces behind, playing
with his hoop. Just when he was in the middle of the road a carriage
came round the corner. The startled boy tried to spring aside, but fell
over his hoop, and would probably have been crushed by the wheels, or
trampled under foot by the horses, if Mary’s brother, who happened to be
close by, had not rushed toward him, and dragged him out of the way.

The old gentleman came hurrying up, took the boy in his arms, examined
him carefully, and could scarcely believe he had escaped entirely
without injury. As a crowd had begun to gather round, he beckoned Mary’s
brother to follow him, and went toward his own house accompanied by the
children. He made the two beggars--for Mary had kept close to her
brother--come in with him, and asked where they lived. They told him
their history in a few words. The old gentleman seemed touched, wrote
down the address of their father, and dismissed them with a small
gratuity and a direction to call again on the following evening.

They were quite overjoyed; for the first time in three months they could
enjoy a warm meal and sleep under a roof, and they hoped that next
evening the good gentleman would find them work, and perhaps even take
them into his house. With what impatience they waited for the appointed
hour! At last the evening came, and with beating hearts they knocked at
the door. An old servant appeared, and desired them to wait; after a
short absence he reappeared, put a few guilders into their hands, and
said that his master could do nothing more for them. Great was the
disappointment of the poor children; but they did not dare to question
the servant, and went away weeping silently.

The old gentleman had probably gone to make inquiries at the parents’
house, and finding the step-mother alone, the wicked woman, to justify
herself for having turned the children out of doors, had told some
horrible tale about them.

The poor wretches were looking forward with great fear to the
approaching winter, when fortunately they heard of the committee which
sent out young people to the Cape. They went at once to the office, and
were accepted.

A girl who remains good and virtuous under such circumstances deserves
the greatest respect and admiration. Mary continued, like a heroine,
unspoiled by the bad step-mother, by starvation in the streets, or by
the bad example on board. God grant poor Mary happiness and blessings,
for surely she deserves them!

On the 19th of September a very strange incident took place. We were
going quietly before the wind, when suddenly it changed and took us “all
aback.” The sails could not be furled quickly enough to save one of the
yards from being sprung and the sail torn to shreds. The whole affair
was over in a few moments, and the passengers in the cabin knew nothing
about it. The captain ascribed the occurrence to a great water-spout. We
could not see it, but had probably come within the domain of the
whirlwind it raised.

At the end of our passage, which was somewhat tedious and thoroughly
uneventful, we had a death on board; the schoolmaster’s eldest child
died of the croup. I was very disagreeably impressed on this occasion by
the behavior of the mother. With the child on her lap--it had only died
a few minutes before--the bereaved mother eagerly asked for bread,
butter, and cheese, and a glass of water. When she began to drink the
water, and found it was not sweetened, she scolded the girl, and sent
her off for the sugar. After she had satisfied her hunger and thirst,
the poor little child was dressed, and the scene of grief began. She
took it in her arms, wept and sobbed, and seemed as if she could not
part from it. A few hours afterward all signs of mourning had vanished,
and one would have thought the poor child had never existed.

On the 16th of November, at noon, we at length cast anchor in front of
Cape Town. For a description of this place, I refer my readers to my
“Second Voyage round the World.”

It was Sunday, and I therefore refrained from going on shore. Where
English people form the majority of the population, it is not customary
to pay visits on this day; the good folks are all day long either at
church, or praying at home, or supposed to be praying.

Cape Town is not so great but that the name of every stranger is known
within a few hours after arrival; and on this first afternoon I received
two friendly offers of hospitality for the time of my stay here--one
from Madame Bloom, the other from Mr. Juritz, an apothecary.

On the morning of the 17th of November, I was engaged in packing up my
few possessions before going ashore with the captain when a gentleman
came on board and inquired for me. He introduced himself as Mr. Lambert,
a Frenchman, and told me that he had been living in the island of
Mauritius some years, and had, in fact, landed here on his return voyage
to that island. He had heard in Paris of my intention of proceeding to
Madagascar, and that I had been dissuaded from attempting the journey.
Hearing yesterday of my arrival, he had hastened to invite me to go to
Madagascar with him, if I had not entirely abandoned my project. He had
been in the island about two years before, and was personally acquainted
with the queen. He had written to her from Paris, requesting permission
to pay a second visit, for no one is allowed to land in Madagascar
without the queen’s consent. He hoped to find this permission awaiting
him at the Mauritius, and would write immediately on his arrival to
obtain a similar permission for me, which he had no doubt would be
granted; only, if I intended to undertake the journey, I must make up
my mind at once, as the steamer would start for the Mauritius on the
following day. In consequence of the rainy season having set in at
Madagascar, the voyage from the Mauritius thither could not be commenced
until the beginning of April; but, in the interval, Mr. Lambert assured
me I should find the heartiest welcome in his house.

It would be difficult to picture my surprise and joy at this. I had
given up all hope of carrying out my plan, and now I should be able to
do it, and, moreover, in the most agreeable and the safest way. I hardly
knew what to say to Mr. Lambert. I felt ready to shout for joy, and tell
every one I met of my good fortune. Yes, I have had good luck in my
journeyings--never-ending luck. At Rotterdam I found a ship which was to
touch at the Cape--a thing that hardly occurs twice in the course of a
year, as the Dutch have scarcely any communication with the colony; and
here at the Cape I arrive just in time to meet Mr. Lambert, who would
have been gone had I landed twenty-four hours later. These are the happy
chances one reads of frequently enough in novels, but they very seldom
occur in actual life.

I immediately sent my baggage to the steamer, and hastened ashore to see
my friends. An adjutant of the governor, Sir George Grey, came with an
invitation from his excellency to visit him at his country house. I
could not resist so flattering a summons, and spent the whole evening at
his excellency’s. Sir George made me the tempting offer of a journey
through the greater part of the Cape territory in his company; but
nothing in the world would have induced me to give up Madagascar. I
therefore gratefully declined his liberal offer, the value of which,
however, I fully appreciated, and that, under different circumstances, I
should have joyfully accepted. This kind gentleman seemed to take a real
interest in my doings, and to be sorry that he could not in any way be
of service to me. He made me promise to let him know by letter if I
should require his recommendation or any other assistance on my journey.

On the morning of the 18th of November I was escorted back to the town
to Mr. Lambert, and a few hours later we were again at sea.




CHAPTER VI.

     Voyage to the Island of Bourbon.--The Mauritius.--Wealth of the
     Island.--The City of Port Louis.--Manner of Life among the
     Inhabitants.--Indian Servants.--Grand Dinners.--Country
     Houses.--Creole Hospitality.


I made the voyage from the Cape to the Mauritius in the handsome and
entirely new steamer “Governor Higginson,” Captain French, of 150-horse
power. The vessel had been built in shares, Mr. Lambert being the chief
shareholder. He refused to let me pay for my passage, and would not have
allowed me to do so even had he not possessed a single share. He
declared that I was now his guest, and must remain so till I finally
left the Mauritius.

Our voyage of 2400 sea-miles to the Mauritius was very prosperous. The
sea was certainly stormy when we set sail, and we had to struggle much
against contrary winds; still, it was said that no other steamer had
ever made so quick a passage.

Except some small water-spouts, we saw nothing remarkable till we
reached the island of Bourbon.

On this steamer I learned the amount of the current expenses of
navigation. Without reckoning coals, it exceeds £500 per month. The crew
consisted of forty-seven persons. The consumption of coal was about
twenty-five tons in twenty-four hours. These coals are in some places
exceedingly dear; at the Cape, for instance, where they cost £2 10_s._
per ton.

On the morning of the 1st of December we discovered land, and in the
afternoon cast anchor in the little-known harbor of St. Denis, the
capital of the island of Bourbon.

This pretty little island, also called Ile de la Réunion, lies between
the Mauritius and Madagascar, in latitude 20° 21° south, and longitude
52° 53° east. It is forty English miles in length by thirty in breadth,
and has about 200,000 inhabitants. Discovered in 1545 by Mascarenhas, a
Portuguese, it was occupied by the French in 1642; from 1810 to 1814 it
was under English dominion, and since that time it has been a French
possession.

Ile de Bourbon has lofty chains of mountains and plains of considerable
extent, stretching parallel with the sea-coast. The flats are planted
with the sugar-cane, which flourishes here famously, and gives the whole
island an appearance of luxuriant verdure.

The town of St. Denis is built far out into the sea, and surrounded by
evergreen trees and gardens. In the background rises a hill, crowned by
a palatial edifice, which I at first took for the governor’s residence;
but it has been built for a nobler purpose--it is the hospital. The
Catholic church also stands upon the hill, and against its foot leans a
long building of only one story, and with handsome rows of pillars,
which make it look like a Roman aqueduct; but, on a nearer inspection,
one detects windows and doors, and the place turns out to be the
barracks. The whole picture is closed in by a chain of mountains, which
divides into two parts, and affords a magnificent glimpse of a deep
gorge thickly shaded with plants and trees. All this I saw from the
steamer’s deck, for we only staid here a few hours, and these were
passed in the usual formalities--the visit of the physician, the
officials from the post-office and custom-house, etc. The business was
no sooner over than the steam began to puff and gurgle, the wheels were
put in motion, and we were off to the island of Mauritius, a hundred
miles away.

Next morning we had not only long lost sight of Bourbon, but the
Mauritius lay before us; and in the afternoon our steamer anchored in
the safe harbor of Port Louis, the capital of the island. But three
hours passed before we landed, and I took up my quarters in Mr.
Lambert’s country house.

The island of Mauritius, seen from the sea, presents a similar aspect to
Bourbon, only that the mountains are higher, and are piled up in
successive chains. The town has not so picturesque an appearance as St.
Denis; it wants the fine stately buildings which give such an imposing
effect to the latter place.

The Mauritius, formerly called “Ile de France,” is situate in the
southern hemisphere, between latitude 19° 20°, and longitude 54° 55°. It
is thirty-seven miles long by twenty-eight broad, and has a population
of 180,000.

Like Bourbon, the Mauritius belongs to Africa. It was taken possession
of by the Dutch in 1570, but is said to have been discovered earlier by
the Portuguese Mascarenhas. The Dutch gave it the name “Mauritius,” but
left the island in 1712. Three years afterward the French took
possession, and called the island “Ile de France.” In 1810 the English
conquered it, and have kept it ever since. They have also restored its
old name of Mauritius.

The island was uninhabited at its first discovery. The whites introduced
slaves--negroes, Malabar Indians, and Malagaseys, from whose
intermarriages all kinds of shades of color and nationality arose. Since
the abolition of slavery in the year 1835, almost all the working-people
have come from India. The Anglo-Indian government makes contracts for
five years with people who wish to hire themselves out in the Mauritius;
at the expiration of that time they have to apply to the government in
the Mauritius, at whose cost they are sent back to their own country.
Those who fail to report themselves lose their right to a free passage.

The hirer must pay to the government for each laborer two pounds the
first year, and one pound every year following; this money covers the
expense of the passage out and home. To the laborer himself he has to
give five or six rupees a month, and board and lodging. This scale only
applies to common laborers; for cooks, artisans, and skilled workmen,
the wages are much higher, rising according to their capacity.

I found the inhabitants of the Mauritius in a state of great excitement.
Intelligence had lately arrived from Calcutta that the exportation of
coolies, or laborers, was forbidden, as it had been alleged that the men
were very badly treated in quarantine, which they are compelled to keep
on account of the cholera. They say, however, that the government here
is to redress the quarantine grievances with all due care, and they
therefore hope the prohibition will soon be relaxed. If this is not
done, the island will be threatened with ruin in a few years.

At present it is in the most flourishing condition; the income which
this little island yields, not only to the planters, but to the
government, is perhaps larger, in proportion to its extent, than the
amount yielded by any other territory whatever. In the year 1855, for
instance, 2,500,000 cwt. of sugar were grown, the value being £1,777,428
sterling. The revenue of the government for the same year amounted to
£348,452. The expenses were much less than the income; and as this is
the case nearly every year, and the surplus is not sent to England, but
remains in the country, the treasury is always well filled. At the
present time it is reported to contain £300,000; and with every year the
wealth of this fortunate island increases. In the year 1857 the revenue
increased by £100,000, this great sum being raised solely by the new
duty on spirituous liquors. That the inhabitants partake of this
prosperity is proved by the difference between the exports and imports.
In the year 1855, the former exceeded the latter by half a million
sterling. Could the same be said of some of our great European states?

The government officials are exceedingly well paid, but not nearly so
well as in British India, though the expenses of living are much greater
here. The reason is, that the climate of India is considered very
unhealthy for Europeans, while that of the Mauritius is salubrious
enough. The governor has a house, and £6000 a year salary.

Mr. Lambert’s country house, “Les Pailles,” to which I proceeded, is
seven miles from the town, in the district of Mocca. The whole island is
divided into eleven districts.

At my kind host’s I found every thing heart could desire--handsome
rooms, good living, numerous servants, and the greatest independence;
for Mr. Lambert drove to town every morning, and frequently did not
return till the evening.

After a few days’ rest I began my wanderings through the island.

First of all, I visited the town of Port Louis. There was little enough
to be seen in it. Though of tolerable size (it has a population of
50,000), it possesses not a single fine public building, with the
exception of the government house and the bazar. The private houses,
too, are generally small, and never exceed one story in height. The
bridge across the big river--frequently so destitute of water that it
can be easily forded--is built tastefully enough, only they have been so
sparing of its breadth that only one carriage can go across at a time;
when two meet, one has to wait till the other has passed. Governments
seem to act very much like private people: so long as they have little
money, or, indeed, are in debt, they are generous, and even extravagant;
but from the moment when they become prosperous they grow saving and
avaricious. At least this seems to be the case with the government of
the Mauritius, which is much more stingy, with its well-filled chest,
than our European states that are burdened with debt. Does it not show a
miserable want of spirit to have such a narrow bridge in the busiest
part of the town?

Two other bridges of hewn stone fairly fell in during my stay;
fortunately, no one was hurt. Each governor thinks only of filling the
treasury; his greatest pride is in being able to say that under his rule
the surplus of income over expenditure had increased by so many thousand
pounds. Acting on this principle, the present governor objected strongly
to the estimates given in for the building of the two bridges, ordered
that they should be constructed at a cheaper rate, and--has the pleasure
of building them twice over.

The town possesses a public walk, called the “Champ de Mars,” which is,
however, little frequented, and a theatre, in which a French company
perform.

The rich people generally live in their country houses, and only come to
town for the day.

The mode of life among Europeans and Creoles (under the latter term are
understood people born on the island of white parents) is similar to
that in the British or Dutch Indies. At sunrise we refreshed ourselves
with a cup of coffee, brought into the bedroom; between nine and ten the
bell summoned us to a breakfast of rice, curry, and a few hot dishes;
and at one came a luncheon of fruit or bread and cheese. The chief meal
was taken in the evening, generally after seven o’clock.

Living is very dear here. House rent, the better kind of provisions,
servants’ wages, etc., are paid for at very high prices. The simplest
establishment of a respectable family with three or four children costs
from thirty-five to forty-five pounds per month. The staff of servants,
though much smaller than in an Indian household, is as much in excess of
a European one. Families who make little appearance must keep a footman,
a cook, a man for carrying water and cleaning the crockery, another to
wash the linen, and a couple of boys from twelve to fourteen years old.
The lady of the house has, besides, a maid for herself and one or more
for the children, according to their number. Those who have carriages
keep a coachman for each pair of horses. The monthly wages of servants
are from thirty to thirty-six shillings for a man-cook; twenty-four to
thirty shillings for a footman or maid; and forty-five to ninety
shillings for a coachman. Quite a common helper gets at least eighteen
shillings, and the boys six shillings and their clothes: lodging is
found for them, but not board. In British India fewer rupees are paid
than dollars here. Domestics do not pay more for their board than four
shillings a month at the most; they live on rice and red pepper,
vegetables, and a few fishes, and these articles they can get for almost
nothing. The servants perform their offices worse there than in any
country I know, except perhaps at Amboyna in the Moluccas. Every where
the visitor must bring his own servants; for if, for instance, he goes
into the country and has no attendants with him, he stands a very good
chance of finding his bed unmade and his water-jug empty at night. The
poor housewives have great difficulty in keeping their houses in any
thing like order. In India they are much better off: there the chief of
the servants bears the lofty title of “major-domo,” and has the
supervision of all household details. All the articles in use in the
domestic economy--the plate, linen, and china--are intrusted to his
keeping. He is responsible for the safety of all; he superintends the
servants--reckons with them, cashiers one and engages another. If cause
of discontent should arise, application is at once made to the
major-domo. But here the lady of the house must herself undertake this
arduous office; and as the Creole ladies are not remarkable for
carefulness and love of order, it may be imagined that the interior
arrangements of all households are not in the best state. I would not
counsel any visitor rashly to set foot in any but the reception-room.

Social intercourse does not flourish in the Mauritius. There is not
even a club here: the chief reason may be that the society consists of
French and English in almost equal numbers--two nations whose characters
and modes of thinking vary too much ever to amalgamate freely.

Besides this chief obstacle, there are other minor hinderances; for
instance, the late dinner-hour, and the great distances between the
various houses. As I have observed, the usual dinner-hour is between
seven and eight o’clock, and thus the whole evening is lost. In other
hot countries, when it is customary for people to live in country houses
outside the town, the gentlemen generally come home from their business
at five o’clock, and dine at six, so that at seven people are ready to
receive visitors and friends.

But here all visits are paid before dinner, as it is too late to do so
afterward, and whoever wants to assemble a few people for the evening
must invite them solemnly to dinner. These dinners are conducted with
great ceremony. Every one appears in full dress, the officials generally
in uniform, as if they had received an invitation to court. At table,
one is frequently seated between two perfect strangers, and after
suffering the horrors of ennui for hours, a move is made at past nine
o’clock into the reception-rooms, there to suffer ennui for some time
longer. Music is very seldom introduced. Packs of cards are every where
displayed on the tables, but I never saw them used. Every guest seems to
be waiting with impatience for the time when he may take his leave
without appearing rude: he is devoutly thankful when the evening has
come to an end, and then accepts the next invitation with the greatest
pleasure.

These dinners do not take place very often; for, ready as the good folks
are to put up with the dreary ennui in consideration of the good company
and the well-furnished table, the generous giver of the feast has to
remember that each cover costs him at least from eighteen to
twenty-four shillings. Nor is the thirst of his honored guests to be
appeased on easier terms; for Frenchmen and Englishmen are alike judges
of good grape-juice, and the Mauritius would be no English colony if the
rarest wines of Europe had not found their way there.

If the fortunate guest be not the fortunate possessor of a carriage and
horses, a dinner of this kind puts him to some expense likewise; for he
has generally four, or six, or more English miles to go, and the hire of
a coach costs fifteen shillings at least.

There is more hospitality to be met with in the country than in the
town, but its practice is not universal. I received many invitations,
among the rest one from the governor, Mr. Higginson, who has a country
house at “Reduit,” seven miles from the capital. Most of these
invitations I declined, particularly those in which I suspected more
etiquette than real friendliness. I have never been an advocate of
ceremonious visits and stiff parties, but a small circle of kind,
educated persons I am always glad to join. In this respect I was
gratified in some houses, particularly in those of the English families
Kerr and Robinson, who lived in the Mocca district.

Mr. Kerr had lived long in Austria, and with the language he had
acquired all the friendly ways of my dear countrymen; and his wife, too,
was quite free from the proverbial English reticence. I came to this
friendly family with all my little requests, and felt really at home
with them. The Robinsons were also very good, friendly people, and
musical withal.

The district of Mocca has an advantage over the other divisions of the
island in its agreeable climate, especially in that part distant five or
six miles from the town, where the land rises a thousand feet above the
sea-level.

The region around is very romantic. The volcanic mountains exhibit
themselves in the strangest shapes. The vegetation is most luxuriant. A
peculiarity which I rarely noticed in the other districts was the
presence of deep, broad clefts, forming gorges or defiles. I explored
several of these; among others, one on a little plateau near Mr. Kerr’s
country house. It varied from eighty to two hundred feet in depth, and
was about forty feet broad at the bottom; at the top the breadth was
much more considerable. The sides were richly decked with stately trees,
graceful shrubs, and climbing plants, while below, a foaming crystal
streamlet, rushing onward, formed several pretty cascades.

One of the finest views, perhaps, in the whole island is to be obtained
from Bagatelle, Mr. Robinson’s country seat. On one side the eye rests
upon picturesque mountains, on the other it roams over fields luxuriant
in verdure, stretching over a sunny plain to the boundless ocean. It is
said that on a clear day the island of Bourbon can be discerned from
this point.

Of all the country seats I saw in the Mauritius, those of Mr. Robinson
and Mr. Barclay seemed to me the handsomest. The dwelling-houses are
surrounded by parks and gardens tastefully laid out, where tropical
flowers, shrubs, and trees (particularly beautiful palm-trees) are seen
in close community with the European plant-world. In Mr. Robinson’s
garden we had peaches as fine as any in Germany or France.

The houses of these two gentlemen stand in very advantageous contrast to
the other houses in the island. The rooms are high and spacious, the
arrangements very convenient; order and cleanliness reign every where.

These praises, unfortunately, can not be extended to the country houses
of the Creoles. To speak frankly, I mistook most of the latter
establishments for the dwellings of poor peasants. They are generally
built of wood, are very small and low, and very much hidden by bushes;
one would never believe that rich people are to be found living in
these hovels.

The interior arrangements are quite in conformity with the exterior. The
reception-room, and perhaps the dining-room, are passable; but the
sleeping-rooms are so small that one or two beds and a few chairs fill
them completely. And this in the Mauritius, a country where the heat is
oppressive, and lofty and roomy apartments almost a necessity! To fill
up the measure of inconvenience, many people have had the odd fancy of
partly roofing their houses with white metal. The visitor who is
unfortunate enough to be lodged in a room just under one of these roofs
can form a lively idea of the sufferings endured by the unhappy captives
of old in the lead-roofed prisons of Venice. Every time my unlucky
destiny led me into such a house, I looked forward with terror to the
night, which I was sure to pass in sleepless discomfort, burning with
heat, and half stifled for want of air. In Ceylon the roofs are also
sometimes covered with lead or zinc; but the houses are much more lofty,
and the metal is not exposed to the burning rays of the sun, but covered
with wood or straw.

I found many of the houses in such a dilapidated condition, and so
tottering in appearance, that I marveled greatly at the courage of the
people who dared to inhabit them; for my part, I am not ashamed to
confess that I feared every gust of wind would blow the house to pieces,
the more so as the winds in the Mauritius are very violent, and there
are frequent hurricanes. The worthy Creoles quoted these same winds and
hurricanes as an excuse for the mean architecture of their hovel-like
homes, declaring that loftier buildings would be unable to resist the
storm. If they were as badly built as these huts, certainly; but the
country houses of Mr. Barclay and Mr. Robinson have always held their
own against wind and storm, though they are lofty and spacious, and have
been built many years.

I have often noticed that there is more true hospitality in the country
than in towns; but the rule will not apply universally, as I found by
personal experience. For though, in the houses of such worthy people as
Mr. Kerr, Mr. Robinson, and Mr. Lambert, I felt thoroughly at home, it
sometimes happened, on the other hand, that I allowed myself to be
tempted by the seeming friendship of Creoles to accept invitations
involving disagreeable consequences, which made me rejoice greatly when
I regained my freedom.

Persons of high position and great influence must, of course, every
where be received with consideration, but strangers and ordinary guests,
from whom there is nothing to be expected, are sometimes very cavalierly
treated in these parts. There is enough to eat and drink, but a
“plentiful lack” of every thing besides. The unimportant guests are
lodged in the “pavilion,” a little hut frequently a hundred yards
distant from the dwelling-house, necessitating a pleasant walk in the
rain or in the broiling sunshine every time the family assembles for a
meal; and as the main building itself is generally ruinous, the state of
the pavilion may easily be imagined.

That delectable retreat generally consists of two or three little rooms,
where neither door nor windows can be induced to shut, where the rain
beats in through the broken panes, where the lock of the entrance-door
is so rusty that the door must be barricaded from within, or every gust
of wind would blow it open. Each of the little rooms is provided with a
bed, a rickety table, and one or two chairs. Of a cupboard I never saw a
trace. My clothes and linen could never be unpacked, and I was obliged
to stoop and unlock my boxes whenever I wanted the most trifling
article.

But these discomforts would have been of little moment if any
friendliness or readiness to oblige on the part of host or hostess had
made amends. Unfortunately, such readiness is rarely found. In most
houses the guest is left to himself all day long. No one takes any
trouble about him, or cares to do any thing to make the time pass
pleasantly. Nearly every establishment boasts five or six horses; but
these are intended exclusively for the master of the house, or perhaps
for his sons. The guest is never offered the use of them, and the lady
of the house herself is seldom able to say, “I will take a drive
to-day.”

Even the luxury of a cold bath, necessary as it is to health in a hot
climate like that of the Mauritius, I found unattainable except when it
rained. Then, indeed, I had it perforce--in my bedroom; for the roof was
generally so ruinous that the water poured in on all sides.




CHAPTER VII.

     The Sugar-cane Plantations.--Indian Laborers.--A Lawsuit.--The
     Botanic Garden.--Plants and Animals.--Singular Monument.--The
     Waterfall.--Mont Orgeuil.--Trou du Cerf.--The Creoles and the
     French.--Farewell to the Mauritius.


The greatest sugar-cane plantations are in the district of Pamplemousse,
in which also the Botanical Gardens are situated. I visited the
Monchoisy plantation, the property of Mr. Lambert. The manager, Mr.
Gilat, was kind enough to escort me through the fields and buildings,
and to give me such a lucid explanation of the method of growing and
preparing the sugar-cane, that I can not do better than give his own
words, as nearly as I can remember them.

“The sugar-cane is not raised from seed, but pieces of cane are planted.
The first cane requires eighteen months to ripen; but as, during this
time, the chief stem puts out shoots, each of the following harvests can
be gathered in at intervals of twelve months, so that three crops are
obtained in four years and a half. After the fourth harvest the field
must be thoroughly cleared of the cane. If the land is virgin soil on
which no former crop has been raised, fresh slips of cane can at once be
planted, and thus eight crops may be obtained in nine years. If this is
not the case, ambrezades must be planted--a leafy plant, which grows to
the height of eight or nine feet, and whose leaves, continually falling,
decay on the ground and fertilize it. After two years the plants are
rooted out, and the land becomes a sugar plantation again.”

For about the last ten years the custom has prevailed of dressing the
land with guano, and very good results have been obtained. On good
ground 8000 lbs. per acre have been raised, and on bad soil, that
formerly yielded 2000 lbs. at the most, the produce has been doubled.

I was much astonished to see the beautiful widespread plains of
Pamplemousse covered with great pieces of lava. It would appear as if
nothing could grow under such circumstances; but I heard that this
peculiarity of the soil is favorable to the sugar-cane, which will not
bear a long drought. It is planted between these fragments of rock, and
the rain-water, collecting in pools in the clefts and holes, keeps the
ground moist for a long time.

When the canes are ripe and the harvest begins, no more is cut down each
day than can be pressed and boiled at once, for the great heat soon
spoils the sap in the canes. The cane is pressed between two rollers,
turned by steam, with such force that it is crushed quite flat and dry;
it is then used as fuel for boiling the kettles.

The juice runs successively into six kettles or pans, of which the first
is most fiercely heated; the force of the fire is made to diminish under
each of the others. In the last kettle the sugar is found almost half
produced. It is then placed on great wooden tables where it is left to
cool, and here the mass granulates into crystals of the size of a pin’s
head. As a final operation, it is poured into wooden vessels perforated
with small holes, through which the molasses still contained in the
sugar may filter. The whole process requires eight or ten days for its
completion. Before the sugar is packed, it is spread out on great
terraces to dry for some hours in the sun. It is shipped in bags
containing 150 lbs. each.

Mr. Lambert’s sugar plantation contains 2000 acres of land, but of
course only a part of this is planted each year. He has 600 laborers,
who are engaged for seven months in the year in the field, and during
the other five in getting in the crop and boiling it. In a good
year--that is, when the rainy season sets in early and lasts long--Mr.
Lambert gets three million pounds of sugar from his plantation; but he
is well content with two millions and a half. A hundred pounds of sugar
are worth from nine to twelve shillings.

The largest planter in the Mauritius is a Mr. Rocheconte, who is said to
produce nearly seven million pounds of sugar annually.

Sugar, and nothing but sugar, is to be seen in this island. Every
undertaking has reference to sugar, and all the conversation is about
sugar. Mauritius might be called the sugar island, and its coat of arms
should be a bundle of sugar-canes and three sugar-bags rampant.

During a residence of some weeks I had opportunities of observing the
condition and circumstances of the laborers. They are called “coolies,”
and come, as I have mentioned, from all parts of India. They hire
themselves for five years, and the planter who hires them has to give
each laborer 8s. or 10s. a month, 50 lbs. of rice, 4 lbs. of dried fish,
4 lbs. of beans, 4 lbs. of fat or oil, a sufficiency of salt, and a
little hut to live in, besides the sum he has to pay to the government
for their passage.

The laborer’s condition is not nearly so good as that of a servant. He
has to work heavily in the cane-field and the boiling-house, and is much
more exposed than the domestic servant to the arbitrary power of his
master; for he may not leave until his five years’ contract has expired.
He may certainly go and complain if he is hardly used, for there are
judges to hear, and laws to redress his woes; but as the judges are
frequently planters themselves, the poor laborer seldom finds the
verdict given in his favor. The laborer has also frequently to walk
eight or ten miles before he gets to the court. In the week he has no
time to go, and on Sundays he finds it closed. If, after much trouble,
he at length succeeds in reaching the abode of justice, he finds,
perhaps, that the court is engaged in a multiplicity of affairs, and is
told to go and come again some other day. To make the thing more
difficult for him, he is not admitted at all unless he brings witnesses.
How is he to get these? None of his companions in misfortune will dare
to render him such a service, for fear of punishment, or even corporal
ill usage at the hands of his master.

I will relate an incident which happened during my residence in the
Mauritius.

On one of the plantations ten laborers wished, upon the expiration of
their contract, to quit their employer and take service with another.
The planter heard of this, and three weeks before the articles of these
ten men expired, he persuaded ten others to give in the papers of the
malcontents as their own, and to have the contract renewed for a year.
Then he called the discontented laborers separately before him, showed
each one the contract, and told him he had another year to serve. Of
course the people persisted that this was impossible, as they had not
been at the court at all, and had never had the writing in their hands.
The planter replied that the contract was perfectly valid, and declared
that if they complained before the court they would not be heard, and
that corporal chastisement would most likely be their reward. Moreover,
if they went, he would not pay the wages he owed them for five months’
work, unless under compulsion.

The poor fellows were at a loss what to do. Fortunately, an official of
high position lived close by, and one who was known as an honest,
philanthropic man. To him they went, told their story, and begged his
protection, which he at once promised. The affair came before the court,
but the trial went on very slowly, as none of the planter’s people dared
to give evidence. Even if they had the will, it would have been
difficult for them to do so, as the planter forbade his people to go
out, and had them carefully watched and prevented from communicating
with any one all the time the action was proceeding.

In the course of some ten weeks, five sittings or hearings took place.
The first three were held before a single judge, who was a planter into
the bargain. The protector of the poor plaintiffs insisted that three
judges should be appointed, as the law demands, and protested against
the one judge, who could not but appear as influenced by his position as
a planter. As this demand proceeded from a man in a high position, and
was, moreover, strictly legal, it was complied with, and the first judge
only attended the two subsequent sittings to give explanations
respecting the former three.

At the fifth sitting the action was certainly decided in favor of the
coolies, but the verdict was given in a manner I should never have
thought possible in a land under English rule.

The judge, or planter, who had heard the plaintiffs in the first three
sittings declared that when the ten people first came to him, he could
not know whether they were the real proprietors of the papers, for that
hundreds of laborers came to him with similar complaints every day.

He had written out the new contract on unstamped paper, as he happened
to have none with a stamp by him, and the people, not one of whom could
write, had attached their crosses as signatures. Afterward he had the
contract rewritten on stamped paper, as it would otherwise have been
invalid, and in order not to call up the people again, his clerk had
affixed the crosses. As the people had, therefore, not signed with their
own hands, the contract was void, and the coolies were free; and thus
the action was decided.

The real circumstances of the case were entirely different. If the poor
coolies had not found an influential protector, the planter-judge would
have decided the affair in favor of the employer. The appearance of the
official personage upon the stage compelled the judges to show at least
an appearance of justice; and so they saved themselves by finding out a
FORGERY, for which, in any other country, the judge and his clerk would
not only have lost their places to a certainty, but have been provided
with board and lodging, and a restricted number of companions, in a
certain great public establishment.

The planter got off unpunished, though, even according to the Mauritian
laws, framed with great regard for the planter’s convenience, he should
have been subjected to a fine and a year’s imprisonment.

To crown his worthy action, he cheated the poor coolies, and mulcted
them of a month’s pay, under the pretext that they had done little work,
broken some of their implements, and stolen others.

This paltry person is very much looked up to in the Mauritius, and is
received with pleasure in society. He is rich certainly, and is a
regular attendant at church, and here, as elsewhere, people have
peculiar ideas as to wealth and religion--ideas which plain honest folks
are too dull to appreciate.

I would not quit the district of Pamplemousse without visiting the
Botanical Garden, which is under the superintendence of the accomplished
botanist and director, Mr. Duncan.

Scarcely had I spent a quarter of an hour with this amiable man, a
Scotchman by birth, before he invited me, in the most friendly manner,
to spend a few days in his house, that I might be able to examine the
treasures of the garden at my leisure. Though I had become somewhat
careful in the matter of Mauritian invitations, I could not resist the
real good-nature of Mr. Duncan. I staid with him, and had no cause to
repent it. Mr. Duncan was a man of a few words, but he _did_ what he
could to make my residence in his house agreeable. When he saw that I
was collecting insects, he himself helped me in my search, and often
brought me some new specimens for my collection.

I walked several times with him through the Botanical Garden, which is
very rich in plants and trees from all parts of the world. Here I saw
for the first time trees and shrubs from Madagascar, indigenous to that
island. I particularly admired a water-plant, the _Hydrogiton
fenestralis_, whose leaves, three inches in length and one in breadth,
are quite pierced through, as if by artificial means pieces had been
broken out. A tree, the _Adansonia digitata_, is remarkable, not for its
beauty, but for its ugliness. The stem is of uniform clumsy thickness to
a height of eight or ten feet; then it becomes suddenly thin: the bark
is of a light, unsightly color, quite smooth and almost shining.

There were many spice-trees, and a few specimens of the beautiful
water-palm, which I have already seen and described in my “Second Voyage
round the World.”

I am no botanist, and therefore can give no detailed description of the
garden; but competent persons have assured me that it is very
judiciously and scientifically laid out. To look at the varied and
numerous plants, and the extensive plantations, sometimes requiring
great labor to cultivate, no one would believe that Mr. Duncan has very
restricted resources at his command. The government only allows him
twenty-five laborers, Malabars and Bengalees, who certainly do not get
through as much work as eight or ten strong Europeans would accomplish.

As I am on the subject of plants and trees, I will mention the fruits
produced in the Mauritius. Among the most common are many kinds of
bananas and mangoes, citchy, butter-fruit, splendid pine-apples, sweet
melons and watermelons. The watermelons here attain an enormous size,
some weighing more than thirty pounds, but they have little flavor.
Peaches are abundant, but require much care to bring them to perfection.
Pomegranates are also found of great size, besides papayas and other
similar fruits. I have described all these in my former works, to which
I accordingly refer my readers.

As regards the animal world, the Mauritius is fortunate in possessing
neither beasts of prey nor poisonous reptiles. The centipedes and
scorpions found here are small; their sting is painful, but not
dangerous. Ants are also not so numerous here as in India and South
America. I could sometimes leave the insects I had collected for half a
day together on the table, and the ants did not get at them, while in
other hot countries these depredators would be devouring their prey
within a few minutes. The musquitoes are troublesome enough, and
sometimes drive strangers to desperation. Those who have been resident
here for some years are said, like the natives, to enjoy a comparative
immunity from their attacks.

The disagreeable kakerlak sometimes plays his pranks here, but is far
less obnoxious than in other countries. They say that very exciting
combats sometimes takes place between the kakerlak and the beautiful
green fly called _Sphex viridi-cyanea_. I was not fortunate enough to
witness such a fight, but only read the account of one in the “Voyages
of Monsieur Bory de St. Vincent.” The fly flutters round the kakerlak
until the latter becomes motionless, as if magnetized; then she seizes
him, drags him to a hole already selected for the purpose, lays eggs in
his body, stops up the hole with a kind of cement, and leaves her victim
to his enforced companions, by whom he is quickly devoured.

I had almost forgotten to mention an object of interest in the district
of Pamplemousse--a tomb, in remembrance of the pretty story of “Paul and
Virginia,” the scene of which Bernardin de St. Pierre has laid in this
island.

The month of April was already coming round, and, excepting in my
excursions in the district of Pamplemousse and a few drives in and
about Mocca, I had seen nothing of the Mauritius. I was loth to quit the
island without at least visiting the most interesting points, but how to
manage this was the question. The friendly judge, Mr. Satis, invited me
to an excursion to the Tamarin waterfall. On the way we passed the
country house of Mr. Moon, who had been invited by Mr. Satis to join our
party.

We soon came to the waterfall, distant scarcely an English mile from Mr.
Moon’s country house; and just opposite to the cascade, under some shady
trees, Mr. Satis had taken care to have a good luncheon ready for us.

A more beautiful spot could scarcely have been chosen. We encamped on an
elevated plateau, 1160 feet above the level of the sea; on one side was
a gorge 800 feet deep, and at least 500 broad at its top, but narrowing
toward the sea. Into this gorge the stream leaps headlong, forming seven
beautiful waterfalls, two of them more than 100 feet in depth. It
rushes, foaming in headlong haste, through a region clothed with the
richest verdure, and closes in the neighboring sea its short but
troubled course. The appearance of the fall is said to be much more
majestic after long rains, when the smaller cascades become absorbed
into one great fall, and the whole mass of water rushes down into its
deep bed in only two leaps.

This delightful day will be always a bright spot in my memory, not only
for the beautiful spectacle I saw, but for the pleasure I derived from
my acquaintance with the amiable Moon family. I became as friendly with
Mrs. Moon as if I had known her a long time, and very glad was I when
she heartily invited me to stay some time in her house. Unhappily, the
time fixed for my departure for Madagascar was at hand, and I could only
spend three days with the family--three happy days, which made amends
for many previous disappointments.

In Mrs. Moon I not only made the acquaintance of a very amiable but of
a very accomplished lady; her talent for painting is quite remarkable.
At the request of the directors of the British Museum she has made
colored drawings of all the 120 different kinds of mangoes, and also of
the medicinal plants found in the Mauritius.

Mr. and Mrs. Moon, and their equally obliging relative, Mr. Caldwell,
were at once eager to show me the “lions” of their island, and the next
day they took me to “Mont Orgueil,” from which the best view of the
country and of the mountains can be had. On one side appears the “Morne
Brabant,” a mountain extending far out into the sea, and connected with
the main land only by a narrow tongue of earth; not far from this rises
the “Piton de la Rivière Noire,” the highest mountain in the island,
2564 feet. In another direction the “Tamarin” and “Rempart” rear their
heads; and in a fourth is to be seen a mountain with three tops, called
“Les Trois Mammelles.” Very near these summits there opens a deep
caldron, two of whose sides have almost completely fallen in, while the
remaining two rise high and steep. Besides these mountains there are the
“Corps de Garde du Port Louis de Mocca;” “Le Pouce,” with its narrow top
rising suddenly up out of a little mountain plateau, like a thumb or
finger; and the marvelous “Peter Booth.” This mountain takes its name
from the first man who ascended to its summit, which was long regarded
as inaccessible. Peter Booth managed to do this by shooting an arrow,
with a strong twine thereto attached, over the summit. Luckily, the
arrow fell upon an accessible spot on the other side of the mountain. To
this twine a strong rope was fastened, which was thus drawn over the
mountain-top and secured on both sides; and Peter Booth hauled himself
up by it, and attained at once the summit and the honor of immortalizing
his name. The last of the mountains seen from this point is the
“Nouvelle Découverte.”

The mountains of this island are remarkable for their manifold and
beautiful shapes. Some are in the form of broad perpendicular walls;
others rise like pyramids; some are covered to their summits with rich
forests, while others are only covered to half their height, and their
high rocky points rise abruptly, smooth and bald, from amid the green
sea of leaves. Beautiful valleys and deep gorges lie between, and above
appears a cloudless sky. I could scarcely tear myself away from the
charming picture, and the longer I gazed upon it, the greater the
beauties I discovered.

Our next, and, unfortunately, our last excursion was to the “Trou du
Cerf,” or “Stag’s Hole,” a crater of perfectly regular form, filled with
rich vegetation. This crater produces a very startling effect, for
nothing betrays its existence till the visitor stands upon its very
brink. Though the sides are steep enough, a path leads down to the
centre, which is filled with water during the rainy season.

From the edge of the crater the visitor has a striking view over three
fourths of the island. Before him rise majestic mountains with their
luxuriant virgin forests, from which the steep, smooth mountain-tops
come peering forth; wide-spreading plains, rich with sugar-cane
plantations, bright with green foliage all the year round; and the azure
sea, whose foaming waves fringe the coast with a margin of white foam--a
wondrous landscape, wanting only a few rivers to make its beauty
perfect.

The island does not suffer from want of water, but is too small to
possess a real river; this, however, has not prevented the inhabitants
from dignifying some of the larger streamlets with that title.

I left the Moon family with the greatest regret. It was through their
friendship that I was enabled to visit any points of interest in the
Mauritius: in the last few days of my stay I saw more than in the four
long months I had previously spent in the island.

In most houses, especially in those of the Creoles, people made all
kinds of protestations, and promised all manner of things; but the
promises remained unperformed. Not the smallest service was rendered,
not one of those attentions offered which are much more gratifying to a
stranger than the board and lodging which every one can procure by
paying for them. Still less did any among them think of making
excursions to the more beautiful points. The people themselves have no
idea that the beauties of Nature are pleasant things to see, and wonder
that strangers should expose themselves to the slightest fatigue merely
to see a waterfall, a mountain, or a fine view.

The men are solely and exclusively engaged in the business of acquiring
wealth as quickly as possible: sugar is a sort of golden calf to them,
and whatever has no reference to sugar is to them worthless. The women
are not much better. They have too little education, and too much of the
indolence so frequently found in hot countries to take an interest in
any serious subject. With the exception of the care of their own
valuable selves, the only thing that can rouse them into life is the
agreeable occupation of inventing or disseminating slanderous gossip;
and I have even found gentlemen who, in this charitable and exciting
amusement, would for a few moments forget the claims of sugar. I did not
escape the common fate. The amiable inhabitants, male and female, of
Port Louis, have absolutely done me the honor to represent me as a
_poisoner_; they absolutely asserted that I had been hired by the
English government to poison Mr. Lambert!

That gentleman had brought from Paris some very valuable presents for
the Queen of Madagascar, and had been so wanting in proper consideration
for the feelings of people generally as to neglect to tell every one
what the object of these presents really was. Of course, said Mauritian
good-nature, it must be some secret political movement of the French
cabinet, which the English government had found out, and had
commissioned me accordingly to put this dangerous man out of the way.

Stupid as this fiction was, it obtained credence among the Creoles, and
even among the French, and prevented me from undertaking an interesting
little journey. Before setting out on his journey to Madagascar, Mr.
Lambert went to Zanzibar and Mozambique, commissioned by the French
government to hire negroes and bring them to the Ile de Bourbon. This is
a new kind of mitigated slave-trade, discovered by France and
countenanced by England. The negro is only in servitude for five years,
and receives two dollars per month from his master, besides board and
lodging. After five years he has leave to continue toiling, or he may
die of hunger if he does not choose to work. He may buy himself this
privilege earlier for fifty dollars (between seven and eight pounds),
and may even return to his own country if he has money enough to take
him home.

Mr. Lambert, knowing my fondness for traveling, and my eagerness to
avail myself of every opportunity of seeing new lands, offered to take
me with him. The French agent heard of this, and immediately went to Mr.
Lambert to request him not to take me, alleging that I was employed as a
spy by the English government. Whence this hatred of Creoles and French
toward me, poor insignificant being that I was? The only reason I can
suggest is that I associated almost exclusively with English families.
But it was surely not my fault that English families sought me out, and
always treated me with great kindness when I accepted their invitations?
Why did not the French do likewise? All the favors and all the kindness
I received came from English people: among the French residents, only
Mr. Lambert and Mr. Genève showed me hearty friendship. The rest, like
the Creoles, contented themselves with empty promises. I must confess
that I contracted such a dislike to the French population of this part
of the world, that I could not make up my mind to visit the neighboring
island of Bourbon, gladly as I would, under other circumstances, have
done so.

I am glad indeed that, when the desire to travel awoke so strongly in me
fourteen years ago, I did not begin with the Mauritius. My zeal would
soon have grown cold. Well--perhaps my readers would have been saved
many a wearisome hour.

But then, on the other hand, I should not have visited Russia, and
learned the notable fact that, in this much-abused despotic empire,
there are many institutions more liberal in character than those of a
colony of England, the country especially proud of its progress.

And yet it is so--notably as regards the passport system. If a traveler
wishes to leave St. Petersburg, or any of the great towns in Russia, to
start on a journey, he has to give notice of his intention a week before
he departs. The traveler’s name is published three times in the
newspaper, so that, if he has debts, his creditors may take the
requisite steps. Here, on this vast and extensive island, a week is
considered far too short a notice. Three weeks are required, or, as in
Russia, a surety must be provided.

I was so little prepared to find such an old-world regulation in force
in an English colony, that I did not take any trouble about my passport.
A few days before my departure, however, I asked the French consul for
his _visa_, more, as I thought, as an attention than from necessity.

By chance, I heard at dinner the same day that this was not enough, and
that the permission of the police to depart was also necessary. I was
dining at Mr. O----’s, a partner of Mr. Lambert; and as several
gentlemen were present, I asked if any of them would have the kindness
to go through what appeared to me a mere formality on my behalf, and be
bail for me. To my great astonishment, the gallant, refined Frenchmen
exhausted themselves in empty excuses; not one would do me the service I
required. Next morning I went to Mr. Kerr, an Englishman, and in a few
hours I had my passport.

To my sorrow, I must confess that at last I was treated with lack of
courtesy by an Englishman, and that Englishman was the governor.

When I first arrived in the Mauritius, this gentleman had received me
very courteously; he even asked me to his country house, and had,
unasked, offered me a letter to the Queen of Madagascar. On my going to
him, a short time before my departure, for the promised letter, he
likewise put me off with an excuse. I was going to visit the Queen of
Madagascar in company with Mr. Lambert, and he pronounced my companion
to be politically a dangerous man. Verily great honor was mine in the
Mauritius; the French took me for an English spy, and the English
governor for a spy of the French government!

After all these pleasant experiences, no one will wonder when I say that
I looked forward with longing expectation to the moment when I might
leave this little island, with its still more little-minded inhabitants.
I will try to keep no other remembrance of it than the memory of its
natural beauty, and of the friendship and kindness I received from the
good people whose names I have mentioned, and from some others. I have
not had an opportunity of naming them all; for others, Messrs.
Fernyhough, Beke, Gonnet, etc., rendered me many a good service. To one
and all I return my heartiest thanks.




CHAPTER VIII.

     A Geographical and Historical Account of the Island of Madagascar.


With the exception of certain strips on the coast, the island of
Madagascar is almost an unknown land; only here and there has a traveler
been able to penetrate into the interior, and none have had an
opportunity of studying the country at their leisure. So far as I am
concerned, I have unfortunately not sufficient knowledge to describe the
country in a scientific way. The most I can do is to give a simple but
truthful account of what I have seen; beyond this my powers do not
extend. It would, perhaps, be not uninteresting to my readers,
therefore, if, before I relate my own experiences in Madagascar, I give
an historical and geographical summary, compiled from the various works
that have appeared concerning this island.

Madagascar is said to have been known to the ancients. In the thirteenth
century Marco Polo makes mention of the island. The Portuguese visited
it in 1506, and the first European nation that attempted to form
settlements thereon were the French, in the year 1642.

Madagascar lies to the northeast of Africa, from which it is separated
by the Mozambique Channel, seventy-five miles in breadth. It stretches
from latitude 12° to 25° south, and from 40° to 48° east longitude.
After Borneo, it is the largest island in the world. Its area is about
10,000 geographical square miles. Estimates of its population differ
greatly, some writers giving from a million and a half to two millions,
others raising the numbers to six millions.

The island contains woods of immense extent, far-stretching plains and
valleys, many rivers and lakes, and great chains of mountains, whose
summits rise to a height of from ten to twelve thousand feet, and even
higher. The vegetation is exceedingly luxuriant, the climate very hot.
The coasts, where there are many swamps, are very unhealthy for
Europeans, but the interior of the island is more salubrious. The chief
productions are some peculiar balsams and gums, sugar, tobacco, silk,
maize, indigo, and spices. The forests yield the handsomest kinds of
wood for buildings and furniture, and trees bearing almost every fruit
of the torrid zone. Among the various descriptions of palms, the
beautiful water-palm is frequently found. In the animal kingdom
Madagascar also possesses some peculiar species; for instance, the
maquis, or half ape, and the black parrot, besides much horned cattle,
many goats, sheep, and beautiful birds. The woods and savannas swarm
with wild cattle and pigs, wild dogs and cats; but there are no
dangerous animals beyond these. The snakes are innocuous; and there are
very few reptiles, none of them being poisonous except the centipede,
and the little black spider which lives underground, and whose sting is
said to be deadly; but this spider is seldom met with. In metallic
substances, too, this island is said to be very wealthy, especially in
iron and coal; but its mineral treasures have as yet been very little
explored.

The population consists of four distinct races. On the south side dwell
the Kaffirs, on the west the negroes, while the Arab race predominates
on the east, and the Malay family in the interior. These chief races are
subdivided into various tribes, among whom the Hovas, who belong to the
Malay race, are the most numerous and most civilized in the whole
island. The Hovas occupy the greater part of the interior; and as far
back as the period of the first discovery of Madagascar, they formed a
powerful empire, of which the capital was Tananariva, situated in an
elevated plain in the district of Emir, and consisting of a union of
many villages. Least known, or, to speak accurately, quite unknown, is
the southwest coast, where the inhabitants are considered the most
inhospitable of all, and the most inveterate foes of Europeans.

Like most nations in their infancy, all these various races and tribes
are very indolent, superstitious, inquisitive, and unprincipled. As I
have stated, the French have been endeavoring, since the year 1642, to
establish themselves in Madagascar. They conquered certain strips of
land, and erected _comptoirs_ and little forts here and there, but could
never maintain their position. All their efforts failed, partly in
consequence of the unhealthy climate, partly through the harshness and
cruelty with which they treated the natives, and partly because they
were never assisted with money and troops from home, when these were
required.

Neither the French government nor the “Société de l’Orient” could ever
come to a decision respecting this island. At one time they wanted to
conquer it entirely, at another to abandon it altogether. Troops and
ships were several times dispatched, and then left to their fate, and
nothing was accomplished. The last of these undertakings occurred in the
year 1733, under the command of the Polish Count Benjowsky, who received
beforehand the title of Governor of Madagascar. Count Benjowsky seems to
have been a very capable and resolute man, and as he had a larger force
under his command than had been engaged in any previous expedition, he
would perhaps have succeeded in annexing Madagascar definitely to
France, or at least in founding a permanent and important colony on the
island, had he not been treated as badly as, or even worse than, his
predecessors; for not only did the promised succors fail to arrive, but
the Governor of Bourbon, who was to have assisted him, proved a most
dangerous enemy. Instead of sending him money and troops, he tried in
every way, from jealousy, to weaken the power of his new rival; and so
it happened that, in spite of his first successes, Count Benjowsky was
soon scarcely able to hold a few unimportant forts and factories. After
his death even these were lost, and in the year 1786 the French left
Madagascar altogether. Of all their conquests they only retained the
little island of St. Maria.

After the beginning of the nineteenth century the English attempted to
found settlements in Madagascar, but they too were unsuccessful. They
took possession of the harbors of Tamatavé and Foul Point, but only kept
them a short time. Meanwhile the empire of the Hovas in the interior had
increased considerably. Dianampoiene, the chief of Tananariva, carried
on successful wars against the petty chiefs, and annexed their states to
his own. He is reported to have been a very active and intelligent man,
and to have given good laws to his people; under his rule the use of
spirituous liquors and of tobacco was forbidden. Dianampoiene died in
the year 1810, and left his kingdom, which had already become powerful,
to his son Radama.

This potentate was only eighteen years old when he came to the throne.
Like his father, he was intelligent, upright, and very ambitious. He
loved the Europeans, and sought to increase his knowledge by consorting
with them.

The English very cleverly made use of this disposition of the king’s,
and managed to get into high favor with him. Radama was soon so
prepossessed by them that he allowed them distinctions of every kind,
and sometimes even wore an English uniform. He likewise made a treaty
with England, by which he bound himself to give up the export
slave-trade. As an indemnity he received money and presents to the
amount of about £2000; and the English government farther undertook to
send ten young men from Madagascar to England, and ten others to the
Mauritius, to be instructed in various handicrafts and trades.

Radama kept the treaty strictly; but not so did the English General
Hall, who succeeded Mr. Farquhar as Governor of the Mauritius. General
Hall seems to have held the doctrine that savages are not men. He was
not ashamed to declare openly that a contract made with a chief of
savages was entirely invalid, and accordingly he constantly broke the
treaty. A natural consequence of this manner of dealing was, that Radama
again licensed the slave-trade, and began to favor the French at the
expense of the English, giving his new friends a small strip of land in
the Bay of Vanatobé.

The English strove for a long time to regain their influential position,
but in vain. They had made themselves so hateful not only to Radama, but
to the people, that every thing false and mendacious used to be called
“English.” Nevertheless, they succeeded at last in getting the treaty
renewed, and even obtained fresh privileges. They got permission to
bring in missionaries, to build schools, and to teach the Bible. In
consideration of a duty of five per cent. they were allowed to enter all
the harbors, to carry on trade, to cultivate the ground, and to found
industrial establishments.

Radama died in his thirty-sixth year, on the 27th of July, 1828.

Following out the ambitious projects of his father, he had succeeded in
extending his rule over the greater part of the island, and had made
himself King of Madagascar. Besides the country of the Hovas, the land
of the Teklaves, on the northwest coast, with its capital, Bambetock;
Mozangage, on the west coast, and the countries of the Antawares and of
the Betimsaras, on the north, obeyed his sceptre; the southwest coast
and the district of the Anossij, in the southeast, had alone maintained
their independence.

Radama possessed great oratorical talents, and was very fond of
exhibiting them. He was altogether very vain and exceedingly open to
adulation: his people were obliged to worship him as if he had been a
god, and the influence the missionaries obtained under his government
they doubtless owed chiefly to the praise and flattery with which they
continually plied him. They compared him to the First Napoleon, of whose
great deeds the French had told him, and whom he appeared to have taken
as his model. The parallel was not altogether inapplicable, however, and
the title, Radama the Great, may be allotted to him when we consider how
much he achieved during his short reign. The conquest of a great portion
of the island, the abolition of capital punishment for many offenses,
the prohibition of the export of slaves, the establishment of a
tolerably well-disciplined army, the introduction of many European
handicrafts--all this was his doing. He was the first to open a door to
civilization in Madagascar; in his reign the first public schools were
built, and the Roman letter taken as the character wherein the national
language was to be written. Bent in every way upon improving the
condition of his empire, he made an exception only in one particular--he
set his face resolutely against every proposal to construct roads,
declaring, like most rulers of half-savage tribes, that the bad roads
were his best defense against the Europeans. During the last years of
his life he unfortunately gave himself up to lamentable dissipation,
which probably caused his early death; many, however, declare that he
was poisoned.

At Radama’s death, not only the English, but all European influence
ceased. His first wife, Ranavola, succeeded him on the throne, and added
to her name the regal title “Manjaka.” This cruel, bloodthirsty woman
began her rule by the execution of seven of the nearest relatives of the
late king; indeed, according to the account given by a missionary, Mr.
William Ellis, not only were all killed who belonged to Radama’s family,
but those nobles also who stood near the throne, some of whom Ranavola
feared might advance a claim to it.

The treaty which Radama had made with the English she abrogated at once.
Her hatred for the British was very great, and extended to every thing
that came from England, even to the cattle introduced from that country.
All people of English descent were to be killed, or at least banished
from her dominions; nor did the French find favor in her eyes. She set
her face generally against civilization, and tried hard to stifle its
every germ. She drove away the missionaries, prohibited Christianity,
and made all communication with Europeans difficult. Her subjects,
especially those who do not belong to the race of the Hovas, from which
she came, she treated with great severity and cruelty: for the smallest
offenses the most rigorous punishments were inflicted, and sentences of
death were, and still are, executed daily.

One only among those related by ties of blood to the late King Radama
had succeeded in saving his life by timely flight. This was Prince
Ramanetak. This prince had just claims to the throne; and as Queen
Ranavola soon made herself hated by the people for her cruel and
bloodthirsty rule, he might well have succeeded, with French help, in
effecting a revolution and taking possession of the throne. This would
have been very advantageous to the French, for Prince Ramanetak was very
favorably inclined toward that nation. But the government in France
remained true to the policy pursued toward Madagascar for the last two
centuries, and the magnificent aid they offered to the prince consisted
of--sixty muskets and twenty kegs of powder.

As I have already stated, when describing my visit to Paris, the French
were ultimately expelled by Queen Ranavola even from the strip of land
given them by Radama in the Bay of Vanatobé. Whether France will demand
satisfaction, and show the insolent rulers of Madagascar the might of a
European people, or whether she will let the opportunity pass by as she
has done on former occasions, I can not take upon myself to conjecture.
Time will show.




CHAPTER IX.

     Departure from the Mauritius.--The old Man-of-War.--Arrival in
     Madagascar.--Mademoiselle Julie.--Account of Tamatavé.--The
     Natives.--Comical Head-dresses.--First Visit in
     Antandroroko.--Malagasey Hospitality.--The Europeans at
     Tamatavé.--The Parisio-Malagasey.--Domestic Institutions.


On the 25th of April, 1857, I quitted the Mauritius. Thanks to the good
offices of Mr. Gonnet, the owners of the “Triton” gave me a free passage
to the harbor of Tamatavé, on the coast of Madagascar, distant 480
sea-miles. Our vessel was an old worn-out brig of war, which in her
youthful days formed part of the British fleet at the great victory of
Trafalgar in 1805. Deeply had she fallen from her former high estate;
for now, in her old age, she was used for carrying oxen during the fine
season of the year from Madagascar to the Mauritius. Accommodation for
passengers there was none, all the space being divided into berths for
the oxen; and as to the security of our vessel, the captain gave me the
consolatory assurance that she was utterly unfit to do battle with any
thing approaching to a storm.

My desire to leave the Mauritius behind me was nevertheless so great
that nothing could dissuade me from going. I commended myself to Heaven,
embarked with a light heart, and had no reason to repent my boldness. If
the ship was bad, her captain, Mr. Benier, was a remarkably good one.
Though not of high birth, for he was half Creole in color, he behaved
with a courtesy and consideration which would have done honor to the
most cultivated man. He at once gave up his cabin to me--the only place
in the ship not monopolized by preparations for the four-footed
passengers--and did all in his power to make the voyage as agreeable to
me as possible. For the first three days our passage was rather a quick
one. The wind was in our favor, blowing from the east, as it always does
in these seas from April to the end of October. A quick-sailing ship
would have made the voyage in three days; but not so our old war-craft,
wending painfully on her way. We were still far distant from our goal,
and, to our dismay, a strong contrary wind arose in the night between
the third and fourth day of our voyage. Notwithstanding the consoling
verdict of the captain with regard to the safety of the ship, I sat
expectant every minute of some catastrophe. But the night and the
following day passed away without accident, though the wind, still
contrary, compelled us to cast anchor toward evening off the island of
“Prunes.” On the fifth day we came to Tamatavé, but could not run in
there; at length, on the sixth day, we came to anchor in the harbor.

Violent falls of rain, frequently of long duration, had contributed
their share in rendering the voyage irksome; I had no books with me, and
the good captain’s library consisted of a cookery-book and an English
and French dictionary. But such minor inconveniences are easily
forgotten, particularly when a long-sought goal is in view, as was now
the case with me. The land I had ardently wished, during many years, to
visit, now lay before my eyes.

I wished to quit the ship at once; but it appears that, in spite of her
contempt for civilization and her dislike of European institutions,
Queen Ranavola has adopted the two among them most obnoxious to
travelers--police and custom-house. Just as though I had been in France
or any other European country, I was compelled to wait till the
inspecting officers had come on board, and looked very carefully at the
ship and at me. As I had the queen’s royal permission to set foot in her
kingdom, no farther difficulty was made, and I was free to land. Here
certain custom-house _employés_ of Madagascar at once took possession of
me, and led me to the custom-house, where all my baggage was opened and
searched. How they searched! not the smallest object escaped their eyes,
not the tiniest paper packet was overlooked. The officials exhibited the
keenness of bloodhounds, and could hold their own beside the sharpest
_douaniers_ in France or Germany. Fortunately, nothing was stolen from
me; and I looked complacently on a scene that so whimsically reminded me
of my own country.

At Tamatavé I was to meet Mr. Lambert, who intended not to return to the
Mauritius after his visit to the eastern coast of Africa, which he had
undertaken on behalf of the French government, but to proceed to
Madagascar at once. Mr. Lambert had not yet arrived, but he had already
told me in the Mauritius that, in the event of having to wait, I should
put up at Mademoiselle Julie’s, and he would take care to inform her of
his arrival.

My lady-readers will probably expect to be introduced, in the person of
Mademoiselle Julie, to an unmarried European female, cast by some
strange freak of fortune on this distant island. Unfortunately, I must
disenchant them: Mademoiselle Julie is a true Malagasey woman, and,
moreover, a widow, and the mother of several children. In Madagascar,
the strange custom prevails of calling every member of the sex feminine
“Mademoiselle,” even though she may have a dozen little olive-branches
to show, or may have been married half a dozen times.

Mademoiselle Julie is, nevertheless, no ordinary personage, and
decidedly one of the most interesting characters, not only in Tamatavé,
but in the whole island. She was left a widow about eight months ago,
but continued to carry on her husband’s business, and with a better
result, it is rumored, than the deceased himself could attain. She is
the possessor of sugar plantations and a rum distillery, and engages in
commercial speculations of various kinds. Her penetration and industry
would render her a remarkable woman any where; and they are the more
surprising in a country like Madagascar, where the women are generally
completely ignorant, and have a very low place in the social scale.

Mademoiselle Julie received part of her education in Bourbon. She speaks
and writes French perfectly. Unfortunately, she has retained some of the
usages, or rather _ab_-usages, of her native land. Her greatest delight
is to lie for hours extended on the ground, resting her head on the lap
of a friend or a female slave, who is engaged in clearing mademoiselle’s
head of certain little occupants which shall be nameless. This agreeable
occupation, by the way, forms a favorite diversion of the women of
Madagascar, who pay visits to each other in order to indulge in it _con
amore_. Mademoiselle Julie was also violently addicted to using her
fingers at dinner instead of fork and spoon; but she only indulged her
inclinations so far when she thought herself unobserved.

Mademoiselle Julie did not receive me in the most cordial way exactly.
She surveyed me from top to toe, rose in a leisurely way, and led me to
a neighboring little house, worse appointed than even the pavilions of
the Mauritius. The one room contained no furniture except an empty
bedstead. Mademoiselle Julie gruffly inquired where I had left my
bedding. I replied that I had brought none with me, as Mr. Lambert had
assured me I should find every thing necessary in her house. “I can give
you none,” was her curt rejoinder; and although, as I afterward found,
she had a store of bedding sufficient for the need, not of one, but of
half a dozen travelers, she would have let me, old as I was, sleep on
the bare bedstead. Fortunately, another woman, a Madame Jacquin, was
present, who at once offered to supply me with bedding, and gave
mademoiselle her opinion of her conduct in some rather strong
expressions. Very grateful was I to good Madame Jacquin for her
friendly offer, but for which I should have had to make shift as best I
could till the arrival of Mr. Lambert with my cloak, and a pillow which
I usually carry with me.

All other comforts were, of course, out of the question, and I had to
provide every thing I wanted for myself. My stay at Tamatavé lasted for
some weeks, for Mr. Lambert arrived much later than he had intended.

The harbor of Tamatavé is the best in the whole island; and in the fine
season, from April to the end of October, many ships arrive here from
the Mauritius and Bourbon, to take in cargoes of oxen, of which between
ten and eleven thousand head are exported annually. About two thirds of
the number go to the Mauritius, and only one third to Bourbon, although
there is no great difference between these two islands, either in extent
or in population. But there are many Englishmen in the Mauritius, who
are more ardent admirers of roast-beef than the French.

It is a singular circumstance that Queen Ranavola does not allow the
exportation of cows; she thinks, in her cunning wisdom, that if she
allowed cows to be taken away, the recipients would soon breed cattle
for themselves, and the demand for them from Madagascar would cease. Of
course, she has no idea that the two islands derive far greater profits
from their sugar plantations than the land would yield as mere
pasture-ground for cattle. A fine ox, worth about £2 5_s._ in
Madagascar, would cost four or five times that sum if reared in Bourbon
or the Mauritius.

Besides the oxen, rice, rabanetas, and poultry are exported. Rabanetas
are a kind of mats, on which the sugar is spread out to dry when it
comes out of the last pan. They are also used as tapestry to cover the
walls and floors of rooms, and the poorest classes even wear them as
clothes.

During the fine-weather season there is much bustle in Mademoiselle
Julie’s house. There are sometimes four or five ships in the harbor at
once. The captains are all friends of my hostess, who gives them a
general invitation to dinner, and may be said to keep free table. At the
time of my visit, which, however, was quite at the commencement of the
fine season, the concourse was certainly not so great. I never saw more
than two ships in the harbor at once.

Tamatavé may one day become a very important place, when this fruitful
island is thrown open to Europeans, and free trade allowed to all
nations.

Now, the place looks like a poor but very large village. Its population,
including that of the district immediately around, is reckoned at four
or five thousand souls: among these are 800 soldiers, and about a dozen
Europeans and Creoles from Bourbon. Except the few houses belonging to
these latter, and to a few well-to-do Hovas and Malagaseys, one sees
nothing but little huts, some scattered about without order or
arrangement, others forming narrow streets. These huts rest on poles
from six to ten feet in height, are built of wood or of bamboo, thatched
with long grass or palm-leaves, and contain a single room, of which the
fireplace occupies a large part, so that the family can scarcely find
sleeping room. Windows there are none, but two doors, at opposite sides
of the wall; the door on the windward or weather side is always kept
closed.

The houses of the wealthier inhabitants are built of the same materials
as the habitations of the poor, but they are larger and loftier. They
contain only one room, which is, however, divided by low partitions into
three or four portions; these houses of the wealthy have also windows,
but they are not glazed.

The bazar is situate in the midst of the village, on an ugly, uneven
plot of ground, and is remarkable alike for its poverty and its dirt. A
supply of beef, some sugar-cane, rice, rabanetas, and a few fruits, are
generally all that is to be found there; and the whole stock of one of
the dealers, who squat about on the ground, is often not worth more
than a quarter of a piastre. The oxen are slaughtered in the bazar
itself, and the skins are not taken off, but sold in strips with the
meat, being considered a great delicacy. Meat is not bought according to
weight, but according to the size of each piece, measured by the eye.
Whoever wants to buy or sell any thing in this country must provide
himself with a small pair of money-scales, for there are no coins in
Madagascar except the Spanish dollar; and it is only within the last two
years, since Mr. Lambert came here for the first time and brought some
five-franc pieces with him, that the last-mentioned coins have become
current. In the absence of small change, the dollars and five-franc
pieces are cut into greater and smaller portions, often into more than
five hundred chips.

To my great surprise, I heard that, in spite of their ignorance and
savagery, the natives knew so well how to counterfeit these dollars,
that it requires some practice and a close inspection to detect the
spurious coins.

The natives of Tamatavé are principally Malagaseys. They appeared to me
more repulsive than the negroes and Malays, whose ugliest features are
found united in their physiognomy. They have wide mouths, with thick
lips, broad flat noses, protruding chins, and prominent cheek-bones.
Their complexion varies through all shades of a muddy brown. As a sole
redeeming point, some of them have regular teeth of a pearly whiteness;
and sometimes a handsome pair of eyes may be seen. Their hair, on the
other hand, is marked by peculiar hideousness; it is coal-black, but as
woolly as the negro’s, and much coarser and longer, sometimes attaining
a length of two feet. When this hair is worn in all its native
luxuriance, it has a horribly disfiguring effect. The face seems quite
lost in a virgin forest of thick frizzled hair, standing out in all
directions. Fortunately, few wear it in this way. The men often have
their hair cut off quite short at the back of the head, and leave only a
length of six or eight inches in front, which looks comical enough, as
the hair stands upright, and forms a woolly topknot; but it is not so
bad as the virgin forest. The women, and some of the men too, who are
exceedingly proud of their hirsute ornaments, and can not make up their
minds to shorten them, plait them into a number of little tails. Some
let these tails hang all about their heads, while others unite them into
bands or bunches, so as to cover the whole head. This kind of head-dress
takes a good deal of time in preparing, particularly in the cases of the
richer Malagaseys, who have their hair plaited into an infinite number
of these little tails. On the head of one of these native beauties I
counted above sixty plaits. The good lady’s slaves must have had a good
day’s work in bringing them to the right pitch of perfection. On the
other hand, it may be urged that such a head-dress does not require
renewing continually, but will remain in all its pristine loveliness for
several days.

To leave the hair free in all its natural beauty is considered a token
of mourning. The Malagaseys are generally above the middle height, and I
saw many tall, powerful figures, especially among the men.

Their costume is that generally adopted by half-civilized nations who do
not go quite naked; the only difference is in the name. The two chief
articles of clothing used by the Malagaseys are called _sadik_ and
_simbu_. The first of these is as primitive as can well be imagined,
consisting only of a strip of cloth worn round the loins. Many of the
natives consider this garment as sufficient, and do not extend their
wardrobe beyond it. The simbu is a piece of white stuff, about four
yards long and three broad. The natives wrap themselves in their simbus
like the Romans of old in their togas; and they really often wear them
gracefully enough. Sometimes, to leave their movements unimpeded, they
roll up the simbu and wrap it round the upper part of their bodies.

The dress of males and females is the same, except that the women have a
little more drapery, and often wear, besides the sadik and simbu, a
third garment--a short, very tight jacket, which they call _karrezu_.

The simbu gives its wearers continual employment. It is always coming
loose, and has to be adjusted every minute. It might almost be said that
men and women here had only one hand to work with, the other being
monopolized by the management of this refractory garment.

The food of the Malagaseys is as primitive as their clothing. Rice and
anana are the staple of every meal. Anana is a kind of vegetable very
much resembling spinach, and which would be very agreeable to the taste
if they would not prepare it with rancid fat. The people who live on the
banks of rivers or on the sea-coast sometimes eat fish, but very seldom,
for they are far too indolent to carry on a systematic fishery: meat,
too, and poultry, though they are to be had in great quantity, and at
the cheapest prices, are only eaten on special occasions. The natives
usually eat two meals, one in the morning, the other in the evening.

The usual drink is _ranugung_, or rice-water, which is prepared in the
following way. Rice is boiled in a vessel, and purposely burned, so that
a crust forms at the bottom of the vessel. Water is then poured on, and
allowed to boil. This water assumes the color of very pale coffee, and,
like every thing else that is burnt, tastes abominably to a European
palate. But the natives consider it delicious, and when they have drunk
the rice-water, they eat the burnt crust with the greatest relish.

The Malagaseys keep many slaves, who are not considered very valuable
here. A slave usually costs from thirty-six to forty-five shillings, and
no difference is made with regard to age, though children of eight or
ten years find readier purchasers than adult slaves. They start on the
principle, ordinarily correct enough, that children may be brought up as
their owner likes, but that a grown-up person who has contracted bad
habits can not often be made to mend his ways. Adult males are also
rarely offered for sale, except men who, once free, have been condemned
as a punishment for some crime to be sold by public auction, and those
among the slaves who have behaved ill to their masters. Female slaves
are generally higher in price than males; and a great value is set upon
those who can weave silk. A slave who is expert at this work often
fetches as much as £30.

The position of the slaves is here, as among all half-civilized nations,
much better than that of their fellow-bondmen among Europeans and
Creoles. They have but little work to do, are fed about as well as their
masters, and are seldom punished, though the laws do not at all protect
them. On the contrary, a master may beat his slave to death; but the
stick he uses in administering the chastisement must not be tipped with
iron; for if it be thus shod, the master is liable to fine or some other
punishment.

In Tamatavé the thievish propensity is very much developed, and that not
only among the slaves, but it is widely diffused among almost the whole
inland population, not excepting officers and exalted personages; I had
to learn this to my cost. In the little hut assigned to me by
Mademoiselle Julie as a dwelling, there was no lock to the door; but as
my quarters were in close proximity to her dwelling-house and other
buildings, and Mademoiselle Julie had not informed me of the
predilection entertained by her fellow-countrymen for the goods and
chattels of others, I did not think of being suspicious about it. One
day, on being summoned to table, I happened to leave my watch, a
valuable keepsake from a lady friend at New York, on the table, and when
I returned in the evening it had vanished.

I returned immediately to Mademoiselle Julie to inform her of this
circumstance, and to ask what steps I should take to regain possession
of my watch, declaring myself ready to give a reward of some dollars to
whoever would restore it to me. Mademoiselle Julie replied with the most
perfect coolness that there was nothing to be done; the watch had
probably been stolen by one of the domestic slaves, for that here every
body stole; and that another time when I left my hut I should do well to
lock the door and close the window apertures. She did not even take the
trouble to question any of her slaves; and the only result that accrued
from my loss was, that three days afterward I managed, with much
difficulty, to get a lock put to my door.

The country immediately surrounding Tamatavé consists of nothing but
sand, vegetation not beginning to show itself for one or two miles
inland. I could not undertake long walks, as it rained every day, and it
behooves Europeans in this country neither to expose themselves to wet
nor to go out immediately after rain, for the slightest dampness is
likely to bring on fever.

By chance I learned from Mademoiselle Julie that she was the possessor
of two estates, lying seven miles from the town, very near the woods,
and that her sons resided there. I hoped to be able to take good walks
there, and to gather treasures for my collection of insects, and
accordingly begged Mademoiselle Julie to have me taken there. In this
country journeys are made in a light kind of sedan-chair, called
_tacon_, suspended between two poles, and carried by four bearers. Even
if one has to go only a few hundred steps, the sedan-chair is brought
into requisition. No one goes on foot except the slaves and quite poor
people. On long journeys eight or twelve bearers are taken instead of
four, so that they can continually relieve each other.

I quitted Tamatavé betimes in the morning. The road to Antandroroko, as
one of the estates of my hostess was called, was very good, particularly
when we got out of the domain of sand into that of vegetation. Where
there were no hills the bearers ran along with me as if I had been no
weight at all for them, and we accomplished the seven miles in an hour
and a quarter.

At Antandroroko lived Mademoiselle Julie’s younger son, a young man of
twenty-two, who had been partly educated at Bourbon. I should not have
suspected this, for he differed in nothing from his fellow-countrymen
save in his European garb and his knowledge of French, and had again
become a thorough Malagasey.

A clean little room was allotted to me in his house, with mats on the
floor, but no furniture. I seated myself on my carpet bag and waited
patiently for breakfast. Mademoiselle Julie had allowed me to depart
fasting, and thus my anxiety on the subject of the commissariat was
natural enough. But hour after hour went by, and no one called me to
table. I ascribed this delay in the appearance of breakfast to my
arrival, and flattered myself that some special dish was being prepared
on my account--perhaps even a fowl was being sacrificed, and thus the
meal was naturally retarded; so I waited and waited, until at last a
slave entered, and said a few Malagasey words which I could not
understand. But I very well understood the signs he made, inviting me to
follow him, and obeyed joyfully.

I was conducted into another room, unfurnished like my own, and with a
mat spread out on the floor in the midst. On the mat lay a large leaf,
surrounded by several smaller ones; the first representing the dish and
the latter the plates for the entertainment. They had been obliging
enough to put a real plate, with a veritable knife, fork, and spoon for
me, and likewise a chair. As for my hosts, they crouched upon the
ground. A slave appeared with a kettle of rice, and emptied the contents
into the improvised dish. Then he brought boiled beans, and a great pot
containing a dried fish boiled up in water, and smelling so badly that I
could scarcely remain at table. The much-desired fowl never appeared. I
thought with a gentle regret of the Dyaks of Borneo, who are considered
so savage and cruel, and who, while they themselves ate rice, could
always find a chicken for me; and here, in the house of a semi-European
host, and in a country where poultry is so cheap and plentiful, I had to
content myself with rice and beans.

The manner in which the natives ate was any thing but appetizing.
Instead of a spoon, they make use of a piece of leaf, which they fold
very dexterously, and wherewith they manage not only to eat rice and
beans, but even to carry fluids safely to their mouths. This leaf-spoon
being very large, they distend their mouths to the utmost extent, and
then shovel the provisions in. This might pass without comment, for it
will not do to be too particular on one’s travels; but the worst of it
is that they all take their supplies with their own spoons from the
common store in the dish.

Near the fish-kettle a slave is generally posted, whose duty consists in
ladling the broth out of the kettle, and pouring it over the rice as the
company take it up in their spoons. The fish is taken in the hand in
pieces, and eaten like bread. I do not wonder that a Malagasey who has
never left his own country, or seen any thing better than its usages,
should be content to live in this way; but how the young man who had
been educated among Europeans could so entirely readopt the customs of
his countrymen, I can not understand. Not only in the manner of eating
and drinking was this peculiarity shown, but in every thing else
likewise. He could sit for hours in his arm-chair without reading or
otherwise occupying himself. In fact, he did nothing all day long but
rest, smoke tobacco, and talk to the highly intellectual slaves who
continually surrounded him.

With true sorrow I had already noticed at Tamatavé that the few
Christians who lived there--namely, a few Europeans and some Creoles
from Bourbon--instead of setting a good example to the natives, and
seeking to improve them by their own respectable lives and the purity of
their behavior, seemed to have sunk to the level of the people among
whom they dwelt, and adopted all their immoral habits. Thus, for
instance, they contract no regular marriages, but, like the natives,
change their wives at their pleasure, and sometimes even keep two at the
same time, besides being attended on exclusively by female slaves.

Some of these people send their children to Bourbon, or even to France;
but for what purpose? When the young man has really learned
something--when he has contracted better habits and customs--he returns,
and every thing is spoiled only too quickly by his father’s bad example.
But what passes my wit to understand is the fact that a European who has
earned money enough to live comfortably in his native land, can of his
own free will remain in this country; and yet such a wonder did I most
certainly behold in the person of a certain Mr. N----.

This man has made a considerable fortune by commerce, and went to his
native France a few years ago with the intention of remaining there. But
the intercourse with cultivated men and women seemed to him no
equivalent for the idle, entirely animal life in Madagascar. So he soon
returned to Tamatavé, to his slave-women, and there he will probably end
his days. The European is truly a wonderful creature. In Europe he can
scarcely find a girl to his taste, and his chosen one is expected to
possess all the perfections under the sun; and here he is charmed by
black, or muddy-brown coarse beauties, whom I really would almost as
soon class among the genus Simia as among the human race! I pity men who
can sink so low as to lose all taste for the noble and beautiful, and
all recognition of the dignity of humanity; and evil indeed are the
effects of their example upon the natives, and lamentably is the
progress of civilization checked thereby.

But to return to my amiable host. The splendid breakfast was over, and
my hopes had been shattered; still, I firmly bade defiance to despair,
and built my trust upon the principal meal, which is always taken in the
evening. With the greatest impatience I awaited the hour--alas! of new
disappointment; the same dishes appeared that had decked the morning
meal; not one less, and not one more. It was too much for human
endurance. Fortunately, however, the elder brother of my host had come
over from the second estate. He was a young man who had not only been in
Bourbon, but had lived for nine years in Paris. Although, like his
brother, he ate his supper in true Malagasey fashion, by means of the
leaf-spoon, I felt more confidence toward him, and invited myself
without ceremony to breakfast with him next morning, certain that I
could not be worse entertained than I was here.

In the evening a very good bed was made up for me on the floor of my
room; but, unfortunately, the musquito-net was forgotten. The
consequence was that I could not close my eyes all night. Before
retiring to rest I had begged my host to send me up a cup of coffee,
with milk, to my room in the morning. But what was the result of my
request? They brought me a washing-basin of milk and some sugar, but
neither coffee-cup nor spoon. The sight of the basin was of course quite
sufficient to take away my appetite, though the milk looked refreshing
enough. I modestly hinted at coffee, and heard that they were going to
look for some, and that it would then be roasted and ground. I therefore
declined to wait, took leave of my obliging host, and again set out on
my journey breakfastless.

A boat took me up the pretty river Foondro, which falls into the sea
half a mile from this place, to the dwelling of the Parisian Malagasey.
He lived in a handsome house; came out some distance to me, and--oh
happy hour!--led me at once to the dining-room, where, to my great
jubilation, I found the table covered in European fashion, and a good,
plentiful repast spread out upon it.

This young man in many respects presented a favorable contrast to those
of his countrymen who had been, like himself, in Bourbon or in Europe.
He is, I think, the only one who does not endeavor to forget every thing
he has learned in Europe as quickly as possible. I asked him if he did
not miss Paris, and if he did not feel a desire to live there. He
replied that he should certainly like to dwell in a civilized land, but
that, on the other hand, Madagascar was his native country--that his
whole family lived here, and he could not make up his mind to leave
them, altogether.

His manner showed that these were not mere words--that he _felt_ what he
said. It greatly astonished me, for in general there is nothing more
ridiculous than to hear a Malagasey speak of his family and of domestic
ties. I have never met with a more immoral people than the inhabitants
of Madagascar; and where there is such demoralization, family ties must
be of the loosest. I dare not trust my pen to chronicle the many immoral
customs which prevail, not only among the people generally, but in the
highest families in the island, and appear quite natural to the people
here. I can only say that female virtue is looked upon as quite
valueless, and that the laws regarding marriage and progeny are of a
stranger kind than any where else in the world. Thus, for instance, a
man may divorce his wife and take another as often as he chooses. The
woman may live with another man, though she may not marry again; but all
the children born to her after she has been separated from her husband
are looked upon as belonging to him; the second husband has not the
slightest claim to them, and the mother is compelled to deliver them up
to her first husband immediately upon his claiming them. When a man
dies, too, any children his widow may afterward have are looked upon as
his; and it is in consequence of this law that Prince Rakoto, son of
Queen Ranavola, though he was born long after King Radama’s death, is
looked upon as the son of that monarch.

It likewise frequently happens that men who have no children by their
own wives marry girls who expect to become mothers, so that they may be
able to call the child that is about to be born their own. This craving
for progeny is caused by an existing law, which declares the property of
any man who dies childless forfeit to the state.

To speak of domestic ties in such a state of society would sound like
mockery; and if I had not noticed in my host, on several occasions, a
rare amount of real feeling, I should have attached little credence to
his words.

I had a good deal of conversation with him, and asked him farther if he
did not feel any craving for intellectual companionship--for the
agreeable domestic relations found in Europe; if it did not seem hard to
him to live continually among coarse, uncultivated men? He acknowledged
that the total want of cultivation among his countrymen rendered their
society any thing but agreeable to him, but that he sought relaxation in
books and study. He mentioned to me several very good works which he had
brought with him from France.

I felt truly sorry for this young man. I will not assert that he showed
any extraordinary amount of quickness or depth of intellect, but he has
an adequate amount of talent, and so much real sensibility and feeling
that he could not fail to gain friends in any country in the world. I
pity him; for, amid this complete dearth of congenial society, it will
be wonderful indeed if he does not become a true Malagasey at last.

I remained with Mr. Ferdinand Diche--for so my host was called--for a
whole day. The weather continued so bad that I could neither walk out
nor occupy myself in hunting for insects. On the following day I
returned to Tamatavé.




CHAPTER X.

     The “Queen’s Bath.”--Soldiers and Officers.--Banquet and
     Ball.--Departure from Tamatavé.--Second Visit to
     Antandroroko.--Vovong.--The Fever.--Andororanto.--Land and
     Cultivation.--Condition of the People.--Manambotre.--The bad Roads
     and the Bearers.--Ambatoarana.


At length, on the 13th of May, Mr. Lambert arrived. On the 15th I
witnessed the preliminary celebration of the great bath-feast of the
queen. This is the only national feast in Madagascar, and it is kept
with great solemnity in all the dominions subject to the sceptre of
Ranavola.

I did not see the great feast itself, and can therefore only repeat to
my readers the description I received from several eye-witnesses. It is
celebrated on the first day of every year, and may thus be called the
New-year’s feast of Madagascar. But the Malagaseys do not follow our
method of reckoning time, though they divide the year into twelve months
as we do. Each of their months is _lunar_, and when the moon has renewed
itself twelve times their year is past.

On the eve of the feast, all the high officers, nobles, and chiefs
appear at court, invited by the queen. They assemble in a great hall,
and presently a dish of rice is carried round, each guest taking a pinch
in his fingers and eating it. That is the whole extent of the ceremony
on this first evening.

Next morning the same company assemble in the same hall. As soon as they
have all met, the queen steps behind a curtain which hangs in a corner
of the room, undresses, and has water thrown over her. As soon as she
has been dressed again, she steps forward, holding in her hand an
ox-horn filled with the water that has been poured over her. Part of
this water she sprinkles over the assembled company. Then she betakes
herself to a gallery overlooking the court-yard of the palace, and pours
the rest over the military drawn up there on parade.

On this auspicious day nothing is seen throughout the whole country but
feasting, dancing, singing, and rejoicing, continued till late at night.
The celebration is kept up for eight days, dating from the day of the
bath. It is the custom for people to kill as many oxen on the first day
as they contemplate consuming during the other seven: whoever possesses
any oxen at all, kills at least one at this feast. The poor people get
pieces of meat in exchange for rice, sweet potatoes, tobacco, etc. The
meat is still tolerably fresh on the eighth day. It is cut into long
thin strips, which are salted and laid one upon the other. The
preliminary celebration of the feast occurs a week earlier, and consists
of military processions. The votaries of pleasure then begin their
feast, and thus have a fortnight’s jollity--a week before the feast, and
a week after.

The soldiers whom I saw in the processions at Tamatavé pleased me well
enough. They went through their drill and manœuvres with tolerable
accuracy, and, contrary to my expectation, I found the music not only
endurable, but positively harmonious. It appears that, some years ago,
the queen sent for a European band-master and a complete set of
instruments, and her worthy subjects were inducted into a knowledge of
music, probably by means of the stick. She succeeded in her attempt, and
many of the pupils are already become masters, and spread the science
among their fellow-countrymen.

The soldiers were dressed in a simple, neat, and perfectly uniform
manner. They wore a tight-fitting jerkin, reaching to the chest and
covering part of the loins. The chest was bare, and covered by the
gleaming white belts supporting the cartridge-box, which had a good
effect in contrast to the black skins of the soldiers. Their heads were
uncovered. Their arms consisted of a musket and the national lance,
called _sagaya_.

The officers looked comical enough. They went about in threadbare
civilian suits, that forcibly reminded me of the fashions which
prevailed when I was a child.

To these quizzical costumes, the ugly black faces and woolly hair gave
such an effect that the whole was overwhelmingly funny, and I lamented
that I had no skill in drawing, for I might have produced some wonderful
caricatures from the models before me.

Except on parade and at exercise, the officers, like the soldiers, wear
a costume that suits them. The soldiers live in a kind of barracks, in
the court-yard of which the exercise is performed and the courts-martial
are held. Europeans are strictly prohibited from entering these
barracks.

The Queen of Madagascar can easily put herself at the head of a powerful
army. Nothing but her potent word is needed to bring it together; for
the soldiers receive no pay, and are obliged, moreover, to clothe and
feed themselves. They procure provisions by going out to work, with the
permission of their superiors; or they go home to cultivate their
fields. But the soldier who wants his officer’s permission for frequent
absence must propitiate the latter by giving him a part of his
earnings--at least a dollar annually. The officers are generally very
little richer than the soldiers. They certainly receive, like the civil
officials, a remuneration for their services from the customs revenue;
but the pay is so small that they can not live upon it, and are
compelled to have recourse to other means, not always of the most honest
description. According to the law, a very small portion of the customs
revenue ought to come to the private soldier; but I am told the officers
find the amount so trifling that they do not take the trouble to give
any account of it, and prefer keeping it entirely for themselves, so
that the poor soldier who can not find work, and is too far from his
home to be able to visit it from time to time, is literally in danger of
being starved to death. He is obliged to endeavor to support life with
herbs and roots, and all kinds of makeshifts (sometimes very nauseous
ones), and may think himself lucky if he gets a little rice now and
then. This rice the poor fellow throws into a large vessel filled with
water, drinks the thin rice-water in the daytime, and only at evening
allows himself a handful of the grain. But in war-time, as soon as he is
on an enemy’s territory, he makes amends to himself for the hardships he
has endured; then he plunders and steals right and left; villages are
burned to the ground, and the inhabitants killed or dragged away to be
sold as slaves.

After parade was over, the officers drew up, accompanied by the band,
before our (or, more properly, speaking, Mademoiselle Julie’s) house, to
salute Mr. Lambert, and invite him to a feast in the queen’s name. This
is the only expense the queen is in the habit of incurring for people
whom she wishes to treat with distinction.

Mr. Lambert treated the officers to some good wine, whereupon they
marched off to the strains of the national hymn, which really sounded
melodious enough.

On the 17th of May, the solemn banquet was held in the house of the
first judge of the kingdom. The hour was fixed for three o’clock, but
they did not come to fetch us until five. We betook ourselves to the
house, which stood in the midst of a large square or court-yard, with
palings around it. The soldiers stood in a double line from the entrance
of the court to the house, and the national hymn was played as we
passed. We were conducted at once to the dining-hall. Two sentries, with
crossed muskets, stood before the door, but this did not prevent any one
who listed from going quietly in and out.

The company, consisting of about thirty people, had already assembled
to receive the guest of the day, Mr. Lambert, with due honor.

The first governor, who is at the same time commandant at Tamatavé, wore
black European clothes, and across his chest a broad red satin ribbon,
like that of an order; but, wonderful to relate, there are no orders yet
in Madagascar. The second governor had donned an old European suit of
faded sky-blue silk velvet, richly embroidered with gold; and the other
gentlemen were likewise dressed in European fashion.

The table was covered with dishes of meat of all kinds, tame and wild
fowl, fish, and other marine productions. I do not think I exaggerate
when I say there were above forty dishes, great and small. The principal
show-dish was the head of a calf of rather large size, so stripped of
flesh that it looked like a skull, and produced any thing but an
agreeable effect. There were likewise many different kinds of beverages,
French wines and port, English beer, etc. After the meat, little
badly-made tarts of various kinds were served, and the banquet ended
with fruit and Champagne. Of the last-mentioned wine there was plenty,
and it was drunk out of tumblers.

As far as I could see, all the guests seemed blessed with extraordinary
powers as trenchermen, nor did they forget to do honor to the wines, and
great was the number of toasts proposed.

Whenever the health of the commandant, of the second governor, or of an
absent prince was proposed, one of the officers went to the door and
shouted out to the soldiers in the yard the name of the person thus
honored; thereupon the music struck up, and all the gentlemen drank the
toast, standing.

The dinner lasted full four hours. It was nine o’clock at night when we
quitted the table and betook ourselves to an adjoining room, where
English beer was again offered to us. After this, to my great
astonishment, two of the highest officers danced a kind of
_contre-danse_; others followed their example and indulged in a polka.
At first I considered this fancy for dancing to be a consequence of the
Champagne they had imbibed; but Mr. Lambert enlightened my ignorance,
and told me that these dances were part of the etiquette of the
occasion. I thought it a strange custom, but was infinitely amused at
the grotesque figures of the performers, and felt quite sorry that they
did not continue the exercise longer. As a conclusion to the solemnity,
the health of the queen was drunk in a liqueur flavored with aniseed,
and to the accompaniment of the national hymn. After the royal toast
nothing more may be proposed; to do so would be considered an offense
against her royal majesty, who, like her deceased husband, exacts
something very like worship from her people.

Accordingly we broke up. When, on my way out, I went for my parasol,
which, on entering the room, I had deposited in a corner, I found it was
gone--it had shared the unhappy fate of my watch.

Though theft is punished with great severity, frequently even with
death, and though it is lawful to kill a thief caught in the fact
without any explanation to the authorities, there is more thieving in
Tamatavé than any where else. As I have already said, it is not at all
unusual for officers and men of rank to take part in nocturnal
burglaries. A few years ago a robbery of some magnitude was perpetrated
in Tamatavé, and the majority of the stolen articles were discovered in
an officer’s possession. The man who had been robbed did not receive
back the chief part of his property; but he got some, with an injunction
to say nothing about the robbery, unless he wished to expose himself to
very disagreeable consequences; and so the affair ended.

It is seldom that any one gives information to the authorities of a
theft. In small affairs it is not worth while, as the detection of the
thief and restoration of the property scarcely ever follow; and in
robberies of any magnitude, persons of high position are almost sure to
be implicated, and it would be dangerous to proceed against these. That
the soldiers are among the most confirmed thieves is not to be marveled
at, considering their miserable position. The officer or employé
certainly has only a very small salary, but, at any rate, he gets
something. Besides, he is a merchant or a landed proprietor, has slaves
who work for him, and even makes a profit out of the soldiers who serve
under him; but the poor private generally receives nothing at all, and
it is almost too much to expect that he should submit quietly to die of
hunger.

On the 19th of May we at length set out on our journey to Tananariva,
the capital of the island. Our party consisted of Mr. Marius, Mr.
Lambert, and myself. Mr. Marius, a Frenchman by birth, had been living
for twenty years in Madagascar. He accompanied Mr. Lambert on his
journey from a feeling of friendship, and undertook the office of
interpreter and the general direction of the journey, and his kind
assistance was of the greatest value to us.

The whole previous day and half of the present one we had been fully
employed wrapping up the chests and boxes containing presents for the
queen and Prince Rakoto, and our own baggage, in great dry leaves, to
protect them against the rain.

Mr. Lambert had bought the presents for the queen and her court with his
own money, and not, as they asserted in the Mauritius, with funds from
the French government. The presents consisted of full and very expensive
toilets for the queen and some of the princesses, her relations, rich
uniforms embroidered with gold for Prince Rakoto, and valuable
art-objects of all kinds, including several musical clocks, barrel
organs, and similar toys. On these presents Mr. Lambert had spent more
than 200,000 francs. For the conveyance of these treasures to the
capital more than four hundred persons were required, who received the
same pay as the soldiers; that is to say, none at all, for service of
this kind is compulsory. Along the whole route the convoy had been
announced, and the poor bearers had to be at certain stations on the
road at an appointed time.

The people, about two hundred in number, who were to carry us and our
personal luggage, were paid by Mr. Lambert. The fee for a bearer from
Tamatavé to Tananariva, a distance of two hundred and twenty miles, is
only a dollar; and even provisions are not found by the hirer. Mr.
Lambert promised them good food besides the dollar, whereupon they
expressed their gratitude by loud shouts and rejoicings.

The first day we only traveled seven miles, and passed the night at
Antandroroko, the estate of Mademoiselle Julie’s younger son. Here
things looked very differently from the appearance they had presented on
the day when I came alone. I am far from being vain enough to suppose
that I should have been received like Mr. Lambert, the powerful friend
of the queen; but the difference need not have been quite so glaring.
To-day every thing was done in European style, and the table was hardly
large enough to hold the dishes piled together upon it.

But so it is all the world over--rich people find friendly faces every
where, and are received with every mark of good-will and respect; but
when the poorer guest arrives, the mask is taken off; and whoever
travels as I do, gets to know human nature as it is, and the verdict can
very seldom be given in its favor. How different from my description of
this country would an account be from the pen of Mr. Lambert! What
encomiums might he not pass on the hospitality of the people who often
received me with frigid, uncourteous welcome! I fancy it was only to the
consideration with which Mr. Lambert treated me that I owed the boon of
a musquito-net, which was actually provided for my bed on this occasion.

May 20th. To-day we traveled the whole day long on lakes and rivers. The
largest of the former was the Nosive Lake, which is about eleven miles
long by five broad. The Nossmasay and Rassaby are almost of equal
extent. As we approached a small island in the last of these lakes, our
boat’s company suddenly began to yell and execrate with all their might.
I thought some accident had happened, but Mr. Marius gave me the
following explanation of the affair:

Many years ago a marvel of female beauty is said to have dwelt near this
lake, but her life was the reverse of virtuous. This Messalina of
Madagascar attained great fame, and considered herself greatly flattered
thereby. She died young, and, in order to keep her memory green in
future days, she besought her numerous admirers, on her death-bed, that
she might be buried on this little island, and furthermore expressed a
wish that all who passed by should roar and swear as loudly as they
could, in remembrance of her.

Her admirers complied with her wish, and gradually the custom became
universal.

The other lakes which we had to traverse were very small, and so were
the rivers. A great loss of time was occasioned by the fact that very
few of these silent highways communicated with one another. Between
almost every lake and stream and its neighbor lay a little tract of dry
land, from a hundred to a thousand paces in length, so that our boats
were continually being unloaded and carried over. This was a hard day’s
work for our people; but, at any rate, they had the satisfaction of
being well fed on their journey. Mr. Lambert had quite a paternal care
for their comfort, and there was always fresh meat and rice in
abundance.

Our way lay near the sea-coast, and we constantly heard the sound of the
breakers. The land was flat and monotonous, but the rich vegetation gave
it a cheerful appearance; in our progress we noticed some very
flourishing plantations, and water-palms in abundance.

Our quarters for the night were fixed in the village of Vovong, in a
house belonging to the government. On the way from Tamatavé to the
capital there are houses of this description in many villages, and these
houses are open to all travelers. The interior is spread with clean
mats, which the inhabitants are bound to furnish; they are also
responsible for the repairing the houses, and keeping them in proper
condition.

May 21. To-day our journey was again on the waters: first, a short
distance on the River Monsa; then our bearers had to carry the boat for
at least half a mile, after which we embarked again on a little stream,
very narrow, and so overshadowed by small trees, bushes, and aquatic
plants that we could often scarcely force the boat through. This journey
reminded me of similar trips in Singapore and Borneo, with this
difference, that in the latter places our way lay through virgin forests
of gigantic trees. After a few miles we came to a broader stream, of
peculiarly transparent and limpid water, in which every object was
reflected with a clearness and brilliancy I had never before seen.

In these lower lands, and, with few exceptions, along the whole coast of
Madagascar, the climate is very unhealthy, and dangerous fevers are
prevalent. The chief reason for this probably is, that the land lies
deep, and the rivers are choked up with sand at their mouths. In the
rainy season the water pours unchecked over the plains, forming swamps
and morasses, the exhalations from which, in the hot months from
November till the end of April, produce a malignant miasma. Even the
natives who live in the healthy districts, in the interior of the
island, are just as liable to its effects as the Europeans themselves,
when they come to the unhealthy lowlands in the hot season. Of the
Europeans, I saw a few in Tamatavé who were attacked every summer by the
fever, though they had lived there for three or four years.

Our journey to-day did not exceed eight or nine miles; betimes in the
afternoon we halted at the village of Andororanto to wait for our
baggage, which had been taken overland by another route.

May 22. This morning we traveled three hours by water on the River Fark,
which falls into the sea not far from the village where we had passed
the night. This river is very broad, but has few deep parts. Its banks
afford a greater variety of scenery than the rivers we had hitherto
seen. The uniform flats begin now to alternate with little clusters of
hills, and in the far background a low ridge becomes visible.

Coming to a great bend in the river, we disembarked. The boats remained
behind, and our journey by land began in earnest. This day we
accomplished eight miles more inland toward the east. The road was
tolerably good, except in the neighborhood of a few wretched villages
which we passed.

As far as I have yet seen of this country, it is exceedingly fertile,
except a few sandy tracts. Capital pasture-grass grows every where
luxuriantly. The plains at the higher level are said to be excellently
calculated for sugar plantations, and the low-lying lands for
rice-fields, and yet all was lying fallow. The population is so scanty
that we hardly passed a tiny village in every three or four miles. This
is certainly inevitable in a country whose government seems determined
to lay waste and depopulate the land. In Madagascar scarcely any one is
a landed proprietor except the queen and the high nobility. The peasant
may cultivate the land and sow seed where he finds a tract unoccupied,
without asking permission of any body; but this gives him no proprietary
right, and after he has cultivated the land the owner may take it away
from him. This circumstance, added to the natural indolence inherent in
all savage tribes, readily accounts for the fact that the peasant only
cultivates just as much land as he finds necessary to grow enough for
himself.

The taxes are not oppressive. The peasant has to deliver about a hundred
weight of rice to the government annually; but compulsory service and
other exactions are very burdensome, for they prevent the peasant from
attending properly to his work.

Rice is the plant principally cultivated in Madagascar. The crop is sown
twice a year, and the government prescribes a month each time to be
devoted to the work. With an active people this would be enough time to
get the harvest gathered, and the new crop put into the ground; but,
unfortunately, the natives of Madagascar are very far from being an
active race, and so it often happens that the month has passed away
before the work is finished. After the month is over, the government
requires the men for all kinds of services, of more or less importance,
just as the queen or the officers appointed by her majesty may please to
order. Those are worst off who live on roads leading from the harbors to
the capital, for they have to do so much compulsory service as bearers
that they have scarcely any time left for agriculture. At one time many
left their huts and fields, and fled into the interior of the country to
escape this hardship, so that the villages began to be deserted. To
check this, the queen condemned every fugitive to death; but, on the
other hand, she relieved the inhabitants of villages on the roads from
military service, the most hateful of all obligations to the people. A
few little villages were also stocked with royal slaves, who had no
other duty assigned to them but to act as carriers. If the people had
only to transport the royal luggage and goods, their service would not
be a heavy one; but every nobleman, every officer, can procure an order
for similar service, and even compel the people to work without showing
any authority at all. They can not complain, for a peasant would never
gain a cause against a nobleman or an officer, and so they pass the
greater part of the year working on the roads. In the districts where
there are no goods and chattels to be carried, other work is found for
them; and if there happens to be nothing to do, they are summoned in a
body, not only the men, but the women, children, and all, to attend a
_kabar_ at some place or other. Kabar is the name given to public
judicial sessions, councils, audiences, and assemblies of the people,
where new laws and royal orders are promulgated, and much similar
business enacted.

The kabars are sometimes held in distant places, so that the poor people
have to travel some days to get to them. Nor are the laws at once read
out to them; this part of the business is often postponed from day to
day, so that they are sometimes kept away from their homes for weeks. On
such occasions many die of hunger and misery, from having taken an
insufficient supply of rice; money they have none, and must therefore
seek to sustain life as best they may with roots and herbs. Their
destruction seems to be the object of the queen; for she hates all the
people who are not of her own race, and her greatest desire would seem
to be to annihilate them all at one blow.

So far as the cultivation of the land is concerned, there are people
enough in Bourbon and the Mauritius who would be glad enough to lay out
large plantations. A few even have tried it, clearing great tracts of
land and planting sugar-canes. But they met with the greatest
difficulties; for, as the land every where belonged to the queen, or to
one or other of the nobles, the new-comers were obliged to propitiate
the owners by presents of money to obtain permission to carry on their
operations. Besides this, the government demanded ten per cent. on
their profits, and, in spite of all the heavy sacrifices, they were not
much better off than the natives; for the peculiar judicial institutions
of Madagascar allowed the owner to break off the contract at any moment,
and drive away the planter.

Some preferred to make a treaty with the queen herself, her majesty
therein engaging to provide the ground, the laborers, wood, iron, in a
word, every thing necessary to a plantation; the planter, on his part,
undertaking to set the work in motion, and to find provisions for the
hands; while the produce was to be divided equally between the
contracting parties. The queen entered into several contracts of this
kind, but never kept to them. In King Radama’s time, the land, they told
me, had been more populous; under the rule of the present queen, not
only have innumerable towns sunk down to a few scattered huts, but
others have altogether vanished. Spots were often pointed out to us
where fine villages had once stood.

We passed the night at Manambotre. At a little distance from this
village we passed a place where great blocks of rock lay scattered here
and there. Their appearance in this place astonished me not a little, as
the soil consisted every where of vegetable earth on which not the
smallest stone was to be found. Mr. Lambert had two oxen killed this
evening for the benefit of our bearers. They were dragged out in front
of our hut by ropes passed round their horns; then several men armed
with knives crept up from behind, and cut the sinews of the poor
creatures hind legs, so that they sank down powerless, and could be
dispatched without danger. As I have already remarked, they are not
flayed, but the skin is roasted with the meat; nay, the natives even
prefer it to the flesh, because the greater portion of fat adheres to
it.

The oxen are fine large animals, and very tame; they are of the buffalo
kind.

May 23. To-day the bad roads began. I did not feel afraid of them, for,
in many of my journeyings--for instance, in Iceland, when I ascended the
Hecla; also in Kurdistan, in Sumatra, and other countries--I have seen
far worse; but my companions seemed horrified at the sight. They were
certainly far from good, I must allow. The land is here more than
wave-like in form: it consists of a succession of lofty hills
sufficiently steep, and so closely packed together that barely a few
hundred yards of level land are left between. Instead of winding along
by the foot of these hills, the roads go straight up and down each of
them. The soil, too, a rich loam, becomes as smooth and slippery as ice,
from the rain, and there are, moreover, innumerable holes made by the
cattle, thousands of oxen being driven this way from the interior.

Our bearers won my unfeigned admiration; indeed, surprising strength and
skill are required to carry heavy loads along such roads. The bearers,
whose duty it was to transport my little meagre figure, were the most
lucky. I felt almost inclined to be angry with them, for they trotted
with me, up hill and down dale, as if I had been no weight at all, and
that was not quite the case. And when the ground happened to be somewhat
level, they almost ran, although I tried in vain to induce them, by all
kinds of deprecating signs, to moderate their ardor; for the long, quick
strides they made were as disagreeable as the trot of a heavy horse. The
hills were covered with rich grass; some also were clothed with plants.
Among the latter there was much bamboo, with delicate clusters of leaves
of a light green color, and of a luxuriant freshness I had never seen
elsewhere. Like shade alternating with light in a picture, the bright
bamboo stood near the Kafia palm, with its feathery dark leaves fifteen
feet long. This palm is a very valuable tree to the natives, who plait
their rabanetas with the fibres of its leaves--those coarse mats which I
have mentioned in my account of Tamatavé.

Of the water-palm I saw some splendid specimens. This tree flourishes
here, in the interior of the country, much better than on the sea-coast.
I remember to have read in some works of travels that this palm only
occurs in situations where water is scarce, and that it is called
water-palm, and also traveler’s palm, because a small quantity of water
collects between each leaf and the stem, to the great delectation of the
thirst-tormented wayfarer. The natives here assert, on the contrary,
that this palm only flourishes in a damp soil, and that water is always
to be found in its neighborhood. Unluckily, I had no opportunity of
investigating the subject, so as to judge of the truth of these reports;
but I hope the time will come when botanists will roam at pleasure
through this great island, and settle, not only this, but many other
doubtful questions in geography and natural history.

The sago-palm is another variety that flourishes greatly in Madagascar.
Strangely enough, the natives dislike its pith, although they are in
general any thing but squeamish in their diet, for they devour not only
herbs and roots, but insects and worms likewise.

The time passed very quickly to-day, for from every hill and mountain a
fresh view opened before us more beautiful than the last. But the
population became thinner and thinner; in the whole day’s journey we
only passed by a few very insignificant villages.

This night we stopped at a village called Ambatoarana. The arrival of
Mr. Lambert had been every where announced, and as it was known that he
stood high in favor with the queen, the inhabitants of the village
received him with the greatest demonstrations of respect, and vied with
each other to propitiate the influential man. Here, too, the judge came
at once to call upon us, and in the name of the community presented to
Mr. Lambert a couple of oxen, besides a great quantity of rice and
poultry. Mr. Lambert accepted these presents, but gave others of far
greater value in return.




CHAPTER XI.

     Celebration of the National Feast.--Song and Dance.--Beforona.--The
     elevated Plateau of Ankay.--The Territory of Emir.--Solemn
     Reception.--Ambatomango.--The Sikidy.--The Triumphal
     Procession.--Arrival in Tananariva.


May 24th. It had not rained for four-and-twenty hours, and,
consequently, we found the roads in somewhat better condition than
yesterday. The hills we encountered were also less high and steep.

We generally divided our day’s journey into two parts. At daybreak we
started, and marched for three or four hours; then we stopped to
breakfast on rice and poultry, frequently diversified by wild birds of
some kind, often black parrots, and other beautiful specimens which Mr.
Lambert shot on our way. After a rest of about two hours we set out to
accomplish the second portion of our day’s march, which generally about
equaled the first in length.

To-day, however, we contented ourselves with getting through the first
stage, for it was the day for celebrating the great national feast. The
queen had no doubt taken her auspicious new-year’s bath this morning.
Mr. Lambert would not rob his bearers of the pleasure of participating
in the enjoyments of the day; so, at ten o’clock in the morning, we
halted in the village of Ampatsiba.

The first business was to slaughter the oxen. The rule of the feast,
which enjoins that as many shall be slain as are sufficient for the day
and the seven following, was not strictly carried out, for the weight of
meat would have been too great for the men to carry; but five of the
finest animals were offered up as a sacrifice to the day; for Mr.
Lambert entertained not only our people, but the whole village. In the
evening four or five hundred people assembled--men, women, and
children--in front of our huts; and, to complete the enjoyment of the
feast, Mr. Lambert had their favorite drink, _besa-besa_, served out to
them. This beverage, which seemed to me the reverse of agreeable, is
made from the juice of the sugar-cane mixed with water, and the bitter
bark of afatraina. The water is first poured on the cane-juice, and when
the mixture ferments, the bark is added, and a second fermentation takes
place.

The festal character of the day, assisted perhaps by the besa-besa, put
the little community in such good spirits that they volunteered an
exhibition of their songs and dances, which were all equally stupid and
uninteresting.

Some of the girls beat a little stick with all their might against a
thick piece of bamboo; others sang, or rather howled, at the top of
their voices: the noise was horrible. Then, two of the ebony beauties
danced; that is, they moved slowly to and fro on a small space of
ground, half lifted their arms, and turned their hands, first outward,
and then toward their sides. Now, one of the men approached to exhibit
his capabilities as a dancer. He was, most likely, the “lion” of the
village. He tripped to and fro much in the style of his charming
predecessors, only in rather more energetic fashion. Whenever he
approached any of the women or girls, he was not deterred by our
presence from making very expressive gestures, which were received by
the assembled company with shouts of laughter and obstreperous applause;
but the same thing is done at the public balls in Paris.

On this occasion I saw that the natives do not smoke tobacco, but take
it in the form of snuff. The pinch is not inhaled through the nose, but
inserted in the mouth. Both men and women enjoy their tobacco in this
way.

In asserting that the “queen’s bath” was the only feast celebrated in
Madagascar, I was right to this extent, that the aforesaid solemnity is
the only occasion of universal rejoicing. The natives, however, practice
the custom of circumcising their children, and these occasions are
celebrated with much rejoicing. The ceremony takes place in the larger
villages designated for the purpose by government, and to these places
the parents have to bring their children at a certain period of the
year. The happy fathers invite their relations and friends to the
solemnity, and recreate themselves with song and dance, eating and
drinking as long as their stores of beef, rice, and besa-besa hold out.

May 25th. After yesterday’s jollification, our bearers had hard work
to-day. The hills were very steep, and far loftier than the former ones,
averaging from five to seven hundred feet in height. Fortunately it had
not rained, and on the dry earth climbing was not so very difficult a
matter.

All the hills and mountains are here covered with virgin forests; but I
looked in vain for the thick, lofty trees I had been accustomed to see
in the wilds of Sumatra and Borneo, and even of America. The greatest
trunks were scarcely four feet in diameter, and not more than a hundred
in height. There was likewise no great profusion of flowering trees,
orchidaceæ, and climbing plants; and the only remarkable feature in
these forests seemed to be the large and varied genera of ferns, in
which Madagascar rivals the Mauritius. I was informed that in the
neighborhood of the roads all the great trees had already been cut down,
but that in the depths of the forests splendid specimens might be met
with, and that flowers, climbing plants, and orchidaceæ likewise abound
in those solitudes.

From the summits of a few of the higher hills we had to climb we enjoyed
glorious views of quite a peculiar kind. Never yet have I seen so great
an expanse of land as this, consisting entirely of hills, lofty
mountains, and narrow valleys and gorges, with not a single plain
between. Twice we could descry the sea in the far distance.

This region must be admirably adapted for the cultivation of coffee; for
it is well known that the coffee-tree grows best on the sides of steep
hills. The land here is said, moreover, to be well adapted for pasture,
especially for sheep. In future times flourishing plantations will
perhaps arise here, adding life and variety to the glorious landscape.
To-day, alas! all around is an unpeopled desert; hardly a miserable hut
to be seen here and there half hidden in the verdant screen.

We slept in a village called Beforona.

May 26. Our journey to-day has been a repetition of yesterday’s march,
with the single additional incident that we met a drove of oxen in a
steep, hollow way. It was fearful to see how the creatures clambered
about. Almost at every step they slipped, and I expected every moment
they would come tumbling down upon us. With difficulty we found a place
where we could stand, pressing against the bank till they had gone by.

Rather late in the afternoon we arrived at our station for the night--a
very little village with a very long name--Alamajootra.

May 27. The hills to-day were less lofty and steep, the gorges and
valleys somewhat broader, and the roads better. A few miles from our
station for the night, on the only high hill we had to cross on this
day’s march, the wooded region suddenly came to an end, and a charming
landscape lay before us. In the foreground, extending in wavy lines,
extending north and south, rose a chain of hills, which we could
overlook from our high post of observation; and behind these lay the
beautiful elevated plateau Ankay, at least fifteen miles broad (and of
much greater length still) from north to south. Toward the east, in the
background, two low ranges of mountains rose up against the horizon.

Our station for the night was a village called Maramaya.

May 28. We came to the elevated plateau Ankay, on which we found
tolerable roads, so that our journey now proceeded rapidly. On the other
hand, we lost a great deal of time in crossing the River Mangor. There
was nothing to be had in the way of boats but a few hollowed trunks of
trees, each of which would scarcely hold three or four people; thus
several hours were consumed in ferrying over our numerous train and
multifarious baggage. The rivers which I have as yet seen in Madagascar,
including the Mangor, are very broad at certain spots, but they have no
depth; the largest of them would not be navigable for a craft of fifty
tons. They are very well filled, but, unfortunately, there are many more
caymans in these rivers than fishes.

We crossed the low mountain ridge of Efody, and then the way wound
onward through pleasant little valleys to the village of Ambodinangano,
where we passed the night.

Near many villages I had noticed great upright stones, always placed at
some miles’ distance from the village. Some of these, I was told, were
funeral monuments; the rest were to mark the spots where the weekly
markets are held. It would really seem as if the inhabitants of
Madagascar were determined to do every thing differently from other
nations, and so, instead of having their markets in the villages, they
hold them in lonely desert places miles away from every human dwelling.

May 29. To-day my traveling companions were fully justified in
complaining of the roads, which were so bad that, in spite of my
enlarged experience in this particular, I was compelled to acknowledge
that I had seldom seen any thing to equal them. But the chief problem
was how to cross the second little mountain chain of Efody, the sides of
which are exceedingly steep. Even my bearers seemed to-day to feel that
my frame was decidedly composed of mundane materials, and not of air.
Right wearily did they drag me up over the steep heights, resting for a
few moments, from time to time, to take breath and gather new strength.

After scaling this ridge we came into the territory of Emir, the native
region of the Hovas, in the midst of which the capital of the island is
situated.

The territory of Emir consists of a lofty, splendid, elevated plateau,
nearly four thousand feet above the level of the sea. Many isolated
hills rise up from this plain; we pass no more forests, and, as the
capital is approached, some amount of cultivation, in the shape of
rice-fields, begins to appear. Where there were no rice-fields, the
ground was covered with the short bitter grass of which I had noticed so
much in Sumatra. Unfortunately, it is entirely useless, as the cattle
will not eat it.

The district of Emir did not appear to be very populous; even in the
neighborhood of the rice-fields I looked in vain for villages--perhaps
they were hidden behind the hills.

In the few villages we passed I noticed that the houses were not built
like those at Tamatavé, and in the wooded regions through which we had
passed, of bamboo or timber, but of earth and clay. They are also
loftier and more roomy, and have exceedingly high roofs, thatched very
neatly with a sedgy grass that grows here in abundance beside all the
rivers. But the internal arrangement is just the same. The house
generally contains only one room; in very few is a small portion walled
off by a partition of matting. Furniture is entirely wanting. The
majority of the inhabitants of Madagascar possess nothing of the kind
beyond a few straw mats with which they cover the bare floor, and a few
pots of iron or clay wherein to cook rice. Nowhere did I see beds, or
even wooden chests in which clothing or other articles could be kept.
Certainly they do not feel the want of either of these conveniences, for
they sleep on the floor, and their wardrobe generally consists of a
single simbu, which they draw over their head at night. The most
luxurious among them go so far as to cover themselves with one of the
straw mats of their own plaiting. Nowhere else have I found such an
entire want of all the comforts of life, except among the Indians of
Oregon Territory, in North America.

Some of the little villages, and a few separate houses also, are
surrounded with ramparts of earth, a custom originating in the times
when the country was divided among a multitude of small tribes who were
continually at war with one another. It has already been mentioned that
the two great chiefs, Dianampoiene and Radama, put an end to these feuds
by reducing most of the tribes beneath their dominion. A few miles from
the village of Ambatomango, our resting-place for this evening, a great
procession of men came to meet us, accompanied by military music. This
was a kind of deputation sent by Prince Rakoto, the son of Queen
Ranavola, and heir-apparent to the throne, to receive Mr. Lambert, and
assure him of the prince’s respect and affection. The deputation
consisted of twelve adherents of the prince, a number of officers and
soldiers, and a complete troop of female singers.

The “adherents” of Rakoto, forty in number, are young noblemen who love
and honor this prince so much that they have bound themselves by an oath
to defend him in every danger to the last man. They all live near him,
and in his expeditions he is always surrounded by at least half a dozen
of these faithful followers, although he has no need of such a guard, as
he is said to be much beloved by all the people, commons and nobles
alike.

Mr. Lambert was received by this deputation with the honors usually
accorded to a prince of the blood royal, a distinction which has never
yet been shown to any of the high nobles, much less to a white man.

As often as our procession passed by a village, the whole community
turned out to see the strangers. Many attached themselves to the train,
so that it grew as it went, like an avalanche. The good people might
well be astonished to see white men received with such honor, for the
like had never been witnessed before.

In the village of Ambatomango, Mr. Lambert was surprised by a mark of
affection on the part of Prince Rakoto. We found the prince’s only son,
a little boy five years old, waiting for us. Prevented by the illness of
the queen from coming himself to meet Mr. Lambert at Ambatomango, he had
sent his child, which Mr. Lambert had adopted during his first stay at
Tananariva.

The custom of adopting children prevails widely in Madagascar; in most
cases this is done by the adopter for the sake of possessing a child,
but in others it arises from the fact that the father of the child
wishes to give the man who adopts it a striking proof of his friendship.
The adoption is announced to the government, which, in a written
document, accords to the second father full authority over the child.
The infant receives the name of the adopted parent, is admitted into his
family, and possesses every right enjoyed by his own children.

Prince Rakoto had conceived such an affection for Mr. Lambert upon their
first becoming acquainted, that he wished to give him a striking proof
of his respect and friendship, and thus offered him his best
treasure--his only child. Mr. Lambert adopted the infant, but did not
avail himself of all the rights his position gave him; the child
received his name, but was left in the care of its own father.

This child is not by birth a prince, his mother being a slave. Her name
is Mary; but she is not, as her name would imply, a Christian. I am told
she is very intelligent and good-natured, but, nevertheless, of a firm
character. The prince loves her exceedingly, and, in order to have her
continually about his person, he has nominally married her to one of his
faithful followers.

Till late at night, a good deal of jollity was kept up in our camp. A
great feast was prepared, of which we partook in native fashion, seated
on the ground; on the other hand, toasts were drunk in true European
fashion, and the healths of all imaginable people proposed. Merry music
and loud shouts of rejoicing accompanied every fresh toast.

The choir of female singers sent by Prince Rakoto to do honor to our
arrival consisted of twenty girls, who crouched down in a corner of the
room, and tortured our ears with their harsh, grating voices. They
screamed and howled just like the women and girls in the village where
we celebrated the feast of the queen’s bath. They had a man with them,
as a leader or teacher, but he wore a woman’s garb, and that of a
European too; as the features of the two races vary very little, their
beauty or ugliness being much the same, I should not have suspected this
comical figure to be a man if the fact had not been mentioned by Mr.
Lambert.

May 30th. This morning a deputation of villagers came to invite Mr.
Lambert to a bull-fight which they proposed to give in his honor. After
getting through the important business of breakfast, we proceeded to the
scene of action, but found the preparations for the promised spectacle
in a very backward state. It was evident that some time would be
required for their completion. We thanked the people for their offer,
but thought it best to take the will for the deed. We particularly
wished to get to the capital, still a good half-day’s journey distant,
as quickly as possible--the more so, as the Sikidy, or oracle, had
designated the present day as a fortunate one for our entry into
Tananariva, and the queen wished that Mr. Lambert should not let the
auspicious moment go by.

Throughout Madagascar, but particularly at court, it is customary to
consult the Sikidy oracle on every occasion, great and small. It is done
in the following manner: A certain number of beans and small stones are
mixed together, and from the figures they form, the people learned in
the art of divination predict the favorable or unfavorable result of an
undertaking. Of such oracle-interpreters or augurs there are more than
twelve appointed at court, and in the most trifling matter the queen is
accustomed to consult them. So devoted a believer in the Sikidy is she,
that she in many things entirely sacrifices her own will, and is thus
the greatest slave in the country she governs so despotically. If, for
instance, she wishes to make an excursion any where, the oracle must
decide on what day and at what hour this can be done. She will put on no
garment and partake of no dish till the Sikidy has spoken, and the
oracle must even decide from what spring the water she drinks is to be
taken.

A few years ago a universal custom prevailed of asking the Sikidy, when
a child was born, if the hour of its birth was fortunate. If an answer
in the negative was returned, the poor baby was laid in the middle of
one of the roads along which the great herds of oxen were driven. If the
animals passed carefully by the child without injuring it, the bad magic
influence of the oracle was considered to be broken, and the child was
carried back in triumph to its father’s house. Few were, however,
fortunate enough to go through this dangerous ordeal unscathed; the
majority of the infants were killed. The parents who were unwilling to
submit their children to such a test turned them adrift, especially if
they were girls, and took no more trouble about them. The queen has
forbidden both the ordeal and the exposure; and this is, perhaps, the
only humane law she has passed during her whole life.

All travelers who wish to come to the capital must apply to the queen
for permission, and halt at least a day’s journey from the city to
receive the verdict of the Sikidy, which determines on what day and at
what hour they may make their entry. Day and hour must be kept with the
greatest strictness; and if the traveler should fall ill in the interim,
and find it impossible to present himself at the gates of the city at
the appointed time, he must send a new embassy to the queen, and await a
second decision of the Sikidy, whereby he loses some days, and may be
detained for weeks.

In this respect we were very fortunate. The Sikidy was obliging enough
not to keep us waiting a single day, and designated that day as a
fortunate one on which, according to the arrangements already made for
our journey, we could reach the capital.

I vehemently suspect that the curiosity of the queen had some influence
on the speech of the oracle. The good lady was naturally impatient to be
put in possession of all the treasures which she knew Mr. Lambert had
brought for her.

Our journey to-day seemed like a triumphal progress. In the van marched
the military band; then came many officers, some of them of very high
rank; next we came, surrounded by the adherents of the prince; the
female singing choir, with a number of soldiers and people, bringing up
the rear. As was the case yesterday, old and young came thronging round
in every village through which we passed. All were desirous of seeing
the long-expected strangers; many, too, joined the procession, and
accompanied us for miles.

Our way wound onward through the beautiful elevated plain of Emir. How
splendid an appearance would this glorious tract of land make if it were
properly cultivated and populated! There are certainly many more fields
and villages to be seen here than in the other districts through which
our way had as yet led us, but very few could compare with this in
fruitfulness of soil and fortunate position. A peculiar charm is
imparted to this plain by the numerous hills intersecting it in all
directions, the majority rising quite isolated and unconnected with any
of the rest. There is no lack of water; for, although no great rivers
are seen, there are numerous small streams and ponds.

About forty years ago, the whole plateau of Emir was covered, they say,
with forests; but now, for an area of about thirty square miles, it is
so treeless that only the rich people use wood, procured from a distance
by their slaves, as fuel. The poorer people make shift with a kind of
short prairie grass, with which hills and plains are thickly covered,
and which gives a fierce but not a very lasting flame. Fortunately, the
people only require fire for preparing their food, and can dispense with
fuel for their rooms, though in winter the thermometer falls to three or
four degrees, and sometimes even to 1° Réaumur; but the houses are built
with clay walls of tolerable thickness, and the roofs are thickly
covered with long grass, and so the houses are sufficiently warm, in
spite of the cold out of doors.

The roads were now exceedingly good, and our bearers ran jauntily on, as
if they had nothing to carry. From afar we could see Tananariva, the
capital of the country, situated almost in the midst of the plain, on
one of the highest hills, and early in the afternoon we came to the
suburbs, by which the city itself is surrounded on all sides.

These suburbs were at first villages; increasing gradually in size, they
have at last been united into a whole. The majority of the houses are
built of earth or clay; but those which belong to the city must be
constructed of planks, or at least of bamboo. I found all the houses
here greater and more roomy than the dwellings of the villagers; also
much cleaner and better kept. The roofs are very high and steep, and
have long poles reared at each end by way of ornament. Here I again
noticed that many separate houses, and in other instances three or four
attached, were surrounded by low ramparts of earth, for no other
apparent purpose than to separate the court-yards from the neighboring
tenements. The streets and squares are all very irregularly built: the
houses are not placed in rows, but stand about in groups, some at the
foot of the hill, and others on its shelving sides. The royal palace
stands on the summit. The portion of the suburbs through which we passed
was, to my great astonishment, kept very clean, and this cleanliness was
not confined to the streets and public places, but extended to the
court-yards. The only places that showed signs of neglect were the
narrow lanes between the walls of earth.

I was astonished at the number of lightning conductors that every where
appeared still more than by the general aspect of cleanliness; each
large house seemed provided with one. They were introduced by Mr.
Laborde, a Frenchman, who had lived for many years at Tananariva, and
whose adventurous history Mr. Marius told me during our journey. I shall
soon have to introduce my readers to this extraordinary man.

I was told that there is, perhaps, no place in the whole world where
thunder-storms rage so fearfully, and where the lightning strikes so
frequently as is the case here. At Tananariva about three hundred people
are stated to be killed by lightning annually, and last year the number
is said to have risen to four hundred. In one house a single flash
killed ten persons. These fearful storms take place chiefly from the
beginning of March to the middle of April.

In the mean time we had arrived at the city gate, before which we found
a guard of soldiers drawn up with crossed muskets, who refused, in the
most polite manner possible, to let us pass. It appears to be the custom
at this court to surround every thing with a kind of halo of despotism.
Although every stranger who wishes to come to the capital is obliged to
obtain permission from the queen, and she is therefore informed of the
intended journey long before its commencement--the traveler is moreover
obliged to send on a messenger when he has arrived within a day or two’s
march of the capital, and to receive the report of the Sikidy as to the
day on which he may make his entry--he is again obliged to halt at the
city gate to announce his arrival to the queen, and petition for
admittance. If her majesty happens to be in a bad humor, she often lets
the poor stranger stand waiting some hours for her answer, exposed to
the broiling summer heat or to the pouring rain.

We were so far favored as to obtain leave to enter the town after
waiting only half an hour.

The interior of the town looks much like one of the suburbs, with this
difference, that, in compliance with the law I have mentioned, all the
houses are built of planks or of bamboo.

We proceeded to the house of Mr. Laborde, a very warm friend of Mr.
Lambert’s, and who is also a great protector of every European that
arrives at Tananariva.




CHAPTER XII.

     Mr. Laborde.--Prince Rakoto.--Anecdote of his Life.--The
     Sambas-Sambas.--Mary.--Review on the Field of Mars.--The Nobility
     in Madagascar.--The Secret Treaty.--The English Missionary Society
     and Mr. Lambert.


Our host, Mr. Laborde, favored us with the following account of his
life.

He was born in France, and is the son of a well-to-do saddler. In his
youth he served for several years as a cavalry soldier in the French
army, but, being always prompted by a desire to see something of the
world, he gave up the service after his father’s death, found a
substitute, and embarked for the East Indies. In Bombay he established
several workshops, repaired steam-engines, manufactured weapons, set up
a saddlery, and did very good business; but his restless spirit would
not let him remain long in one place, so he gave up his workshops to a
friend, and in the year 1831 shipped himself off to the Indian
Archipelago. The ship, driven out of its course by a storm, was wrecked
on the coast of Madagascar. Mr. Laborde not only lost all he possessed,
but his liberty into the bargain; for, as is well known, all shipwrecked
men are made slaves of in this hospitable island. Mr. Laborde was taken,
with a few of his companions in misfortune, to Tananariva to be sold.

Fortunately, tidings of his skill in manufacturing weapons and other
articles reached the queen’s ears. She sent for him to court, and
promised him his freedom if he would serve her faithfully for five
years. Mr. Laborde did this. He established a workshop, and furnished
the queen with all kinds of weapons, even to little cannons, and also
with powder and other articles. In spite of her general hatred toward
Europeans, he gained the queen’s confidence, and she soon got to value
him so highly that she took his advice in several important affairs, and
he succeeded, not unfrequently, in dissuading her from pronouncing
sentences of death.

But it is not only in the queen’s estimation that Mr. Laborde stands
high. The people and the nobility also set great store by him; for his
many good qualities have made him popular every where, and all who need
counsel or help come to him, and never come in vain. He is physician,
confidential friend, and helper to them all.

The five years Mr. Laborde was to pass in the queen’s service extended
to ten. His patroness gave him house and home, lands and slaves; and as
he is married to a native woman, and has a son by this marriage, he will
probably remain here to the end of his life, though he has long been
free and independent, and may leave the island whenever he chooses to do
so.

Besides his manufactories for arms and powder, this industrious man has
also established works for glass-blowing, indigo-dyeing, soap and tallow
boiling, and a distillery for rum. He wished also to stock the island
with European fruits and vegetables, and most of those he planted
flourished wonderfully, but his example remained unfollowed. The natives
preferred to live on in their pristine indolence, and to continue eating
nothing but rice, with the addition of a piece of beef now and then.

If Mr. Laborde, however, did not succeed in producing all the results he
expected from his undertakings, they have at least done good service in
showing the capability of this beautiful land for cultivation.

It was toward four o’clock in the afternoon when we arrived in Mr.
Laborde’s house.

Our friendly host immediately introduced two Europeans to us, the only
ones then staying at Tananariva. The two gentlemen were clergymen; one
of them had been living for two years, the other for seven months, in
Mr. Laborde’s house. It was not the time to appear as missionaries, and
they concealed the fact of their belonging to a mission very carefully,
the prince and the Europeans being the only persons admitted into the
secret. One passes as a physician, the other as tutor to Mr. Laborde’s
son, who had come back two years since from Paris, where he had been
sent by his father to be educated.

We were soon assembled at a good dinner round our host’s table. Every
thing was arranged in European style, with the exception that the dishes
and plates were all of massive silver, and silver goblets supplied the
place of drinking-glasses. I observed jokingly to Mr. Laborde that I had
never met with such luxury at any table, and that Tananariva was the
last place in the world where I should have expected to find it. He
replied that similar luxury prevailed in all the houses of the rich, but
that there were certainly not many houses of this description. He said
he had himself introduced the fashion, but not from ostentation, but, on
the contrary, on economical grounds. He found that china-ware had
continually to be replaced, as the slaves were perfect adepts in the art
of breaking any given number of articles in the shortest possible time,
so that the use of china became very expensive.

Before we had nearly concluded our pleasant meal, while Champagne was
being handed round, and the toasts were beginning, a slave came running
up in hot haste to announce the approach of Prince Rakoto. We rose
hastily from table, but had little time to go and meet the prince, for,
in his impatience to see Mr. Lambert, he had followed close at the
slave’s heels. The two men held each other in a long embrace, but for
some time neither of them could find a word to express his joy. It was
easy to see that a deep and true friendship existed between them, and
we who stood round could not view the scene without feelings of
pleasurable emotion.

Prince Rakoto, or, to call him by his full name, Rako-dond-Radama, is a
young man twenty-seven years of age. Contrary to my expectation, his
appearance was far from disagreeable. He is short and slim in stature,
and his face does not betray a likeness, in form or color, to any of the
four races who inhabit Madagascar. His features have quite the type of
the Moldavian Greeks. His black hair is curly, but not woolly; he has
dark eyes, full of life and fire; a well-shaped mouth, and handsome
teeth. His features wear an expression of such childlike goodness that
one feels drawn toward him from the first moment of seeing him. He often
goes about in European costume.

The prince is honored and beloved alike by high and low; and I was
assured by Mr. Laborde that he fully deserved all this affection and
honor. The son is, in fact, as kind-hearted as the mother is cruel; he
is just as averse to the shedding of blood as his mother is addicted to
it, and his chief efforts are directed toward mitigating the severe
punishments the queen is continually inflicting, and obtaining a
reversal of the sentences of death which she is always too ready to
pronounce upon her subjects.

He is always ready to listen to the unfortunate, and to help them; and
has strictly forbidden his slaves to turn any applicant away on the
score that he is sleeping or engaged at his meals. Well aware of this,
people often come in the middle of the night and wake the prince from
his sleep, with petitions for their relations who are to be executed
early next morning. If he can not obtain a pardon from his mother, he
manages to pass as if by accident along the road by which the poor
culprits are led, bound with cords, to meet their fate. Then he cuts
their bonds asunder, and either tells them to flee, or to go quietly
home, according as their offenses have been grave or venial. When the
queen is informed of what her son has done, she never makes any remark,
but only tries to keep the next sentences she pronounces as secret as
possible, and to hasten their execution. Condemnation and punishment
thus often succeed each other so rapidly, that if the prince is absent
from the town when sentence is passed, the application to him for
assistance is almost sure to come too late.

It is strange, considering how radically different their dispositions
are, that mother and son should love each other so tenderly. The prince
is devoted to the queen with the utmost affection; he tries to excuse
her deeds of severity by every conceivable argument, and it is a bitter
reflection to him that she can be neither loved nor respected by the
nation.

The prince’s character is the more remarkable, inasmuch as he has had
his mother’s bad example before his eyes from his earliest youth, and
can not escape from her influence; moreover, not the slightest care has
been taken of his education. In most similar cases, the son would
certainly have imbibed the prejudices and acquired the vices of the
mother.

No one has attempted to teach him any thing, with the exception of a few
words of the English language; what he knows, and what he is, he owes
entirely to himself. What might this prince not have been had a
judicious education opened his mind and developed his talents? I had
frequent opportunities of seeing and observing him, for a day seldom
passed without his paying Mr. Lambert a visit. I found no fault in him
except a certain want of independence and a distrust of his own
abilities; and the only thing I fear, should the government one day fall
into his hands, is, that he will not come forward with sufficient
energy, and may fail in thoroughly carrying out his good intentions.

A few of the actions of this man will sufficiently prove the nobility of
his mind.

It frequently happens that the queen orders hundreds of her subjects to
perform the heaviest labor for months together for some favored
personage--such work, for instance, as hewing timber for building, and
then dragging it thirty miles along the road; hewing stone, and kindred
occupations; for all which the poor people get not the slightest reward
of any kind. When the prince hears of a case of this kind, he manages to
pass by the neighborhood where the people are at work, meets them as if
by chance, and asks for whom they are laboring thus. On receiving their
reply, he farther inquires if they are properly fed, for wages are of
course out of the question. Then it generally turns out that they not
only have no food provided for them, but frequently have consumed all
the provisions they have brought with them, and are trying to satisfy
their hunger with herbs and roots. The prince then has one or two oxen
killed, according to the number of the laborers, and this meat, with a
good supply of rice, is by his command distributed among them. If the
owner should come forward in surprise at this order, and attempt to
remonstrate, the prince sends him away with this assurance: “Whoever
works for you has a just claim to be supported by you; and if you will
not make the arrangement yourself, your steward must.”

A few years ago, a ship was wrecked on the coast of Madagascar, and the
majority of the crew perished. Five sailors who had escaped from the
wreck were sent, according to the usual custom, to the capital, to be
sold there as slaves. The prince met them during an excursion he was
making, about a day’s journey from Tananariva, and noticing that one of
the sailors had no shoes, and was limping painfully after the rest, he
drew off his own and gave them to him. He also took care that the poor
men were well fed. Mr. Laborde bought these five sailors, clothed them,
gave them money and letters of recommendation, and helped them to get
back to their own country. The prince is seldom in a position to carry
out his benevolent designs, for he has no money, or, at any rate, very
little; his whole wealth consisting in slaves, rice-fields, and oxen
given to him by his mother.

Another time the prince saw a European being led as a prisoner to the
capital by several natives. The poor wretch was being urged on like a
brute beast by his guards with blows and pushes; he was so exhausted and
weak from the long journey and the bad roads that he could drag himself
no farther. The prince reproved the guards for their cruelty, himself
alighted from his tacon, or sedan-chair, and told the captive to take
his place.

The prince, moreover, found an opportunity of showing his generosity
toward one of our bearers. True to the habits of his country, this poor
wretch had stolen an ox in the vicinity of the capital, driven it to one
of the markets, and tried to dispose of it; but he was caught in the
fact, and brought to the capital. In cases of this kind, justice in
Madagascar is very quick in taking its course; on the same day sentence
of death was passed upon him, and toward evening he was to be executed
in the manner of the country, with the lance or gagaya. Mr. Laborde
heard of this, and sent in all directions in search of the prince to
obtain his mediation. Luckily, the prince was found in time, scarcely
half an hour before the execution was to have taken place. He proceeded
at once to the prison, opened the door for the captive, and recommended
him to flee to his own home as fast as he could.

Many similar traits were told me of the prince, and seldom, it is said,
do many days elapse without his saving lives or performing some generous
action. He often gives away his last dollar, distributes all his stores
of rice and other provisions, and is doubly glad when he can help some
unfortunate being without letting the recipient of his bounty know who
is his benefactor.

The following words, which I heard from his own mouth, speak more
eloquently than my weak pen could do the praises of this really noble
man. He declared it to be a matter of indifference to him whether the
French or the English, or any other nation, took possession of the
island, if only the people were properly governed. For himself, he
wished neither for the throne nor for the regal title, and would at any
time be ready to give a written abdication of his claims, and retire and
live as a private man, if he could by such a course insure the
prosperity of the people.

I must confess that this declaration moved me deeply, and inspired me
with a high respect for this prince--such respect as I feel for very few
human beings. To my mind, a man of such sentiments is greater than the
most prominent among the ambitious and egotistical monarchs of Europe.

May 31. This morning the queen sent one of the grandees of the empire to
inquire after our health, and to invite us to take the _sambas-sambas_
next day in the house of the Lady Rasoaray.

On this occasion she sent Mr. Lambert a present as a mark of her favor.
The gift consisted of a magnificent fatted ox, of proportions I had
rarely seen equaled even in Europe, besides some very fine poultry and a
basket of eggs. The presents of the queen never consist of any other
articles, and are generally confined to poultry and eggs; oxen are only
added when she wishes to confer on the recipient a mark of peculiar
distinction.

The sambas-sambas is a dish made of fine strips of beef broiled in fat,
and of rice. It is customary, in the first month of the new year, to
regale friends and relations who come to visit you with this dish. Every
one takes a pinch of it, rises from his seat, turns to the right and to
the left, and says, “May the queen live a thousand years.” After this he
may eat as much as he likes of the preparation, or may leave it
untouched, as he pleases. This ceremony is somewhat equivalent to
wishing a happy new-year among us.

As we happened to arrive in the first month of the new year, and the
queen wished to show Mr. Lambert all kinds of attention, she invited him
to this feast, and my humble self and the other Europeans were included
in the honor as friends of Mr. Lambert.

All the banquets to which friends are invited are not held in the royal
palace, but at the house of the Lady Rasoaray, who is of very high
birth, and whose spacious, richly-furnished dwelling is well adapted for
such purposes. To eat in the palace of the queen, or, still more, in her
company, would be considered too great an honor for a stranger; so far
the condescension of this haughty, self-opinioned potentate extendeth
not.

I made use of this day to visit the town, of which, however, I can say
nothing more than that it is very bustling, and extends over a large
space of ground, especially if the suburbs be taken as part of it. It is
said, with its immediate environs, to contain 50,000 houses, or “roofs,”
as they are called here, and 100,000 inhabitants. This estimate is
probably much exaggerated; but certainly the proportion of dwellings is
unusually great, from the simple reason that the houses themselves are
particularly small, consisting of no more than one room, or at most but
two. If the family is large, two or three additional little houses are
built up around the original dwelling; all who have any pretensions to
wealth have their kitchen under a separate roof; and, of course, the
slaves are also quartered in various small houses. Still, I do not think
Tananariva can contain many more than 15,000, or, at the most, 20,000
houses.

Mr. Laborde, for instance, is the owner of nine small dwellings,
tenanted by seven free men and thirty slaves; here, then, the proportion
of inhabitants to houses would be as four to one. But Mr. Laborde is a
European, and does not live with his people in such a crowded manner as
the natives affect--with them six, or certainly at least five,
inhabitants may be reckoned to every roof.

June 1. At two o’clock in the afternoon we betook ourselves to the house
of the Lady Rasoaray, and were conducted to a large hall, the walls
papered in European fashion, and the floor covered with handsome mats.
In the middle of the room stood a table, elegantly spread, in a style of
which no prince in Europe need have been ashamed. The other arrangements
in the room were simple, but tasteful. Many an English lady would have
been exceedingly scandalized by the fact that in the room in which we
were to dine stood two beds--two very handsome beds, with heavy curtains
of rich silk. As I am, however, not an Englishwoman, but only a simple
German, I took no notice of the circumstance, and the presence of the
two beds did not prevent me from eating my share of beef and rice in all
peace and quietness of spirit. These two dishes are the only ones
admitted at the sambas-sambas, and water is the only beverage allowed on
these occasions.

I particularly admired two silver vases, with carving on them in relief,
which stood on the table; and my wonder rose considerably when I was
informed that they had been executed by native artificers. They would
certainly have met with high approval even in Europe. Like the Chinese,
the natives are gifted in a high degree with the faculty of imitation,
but they lack originality.

Among the high personages invited with ourselves to the feast were many
who spoke either French or English, English being the more common. The
knowledge of this language dates from the time of King Radama, in whose
reign English missionaries came to Madagascar, and a certain number of
young men were sent to the Mauritius or to England for their education.

The ceremony of the sambas-sambas was very soon ended, and we returned
home early; in the evening we were surprised by a visit from Prince
Rakoto. He brought with him the mother of his little five-year-old son,
to introduce her to me. As I have already mentioned, the prince can not,
according to the laws that prevail here, marry this woman, because she
is a slave, and her son has, therefore, not the smallest claim to his
father’s rank; nevertheless, they are both honored with the princely
title. It may certainly be said that in this country the laws are of
little importance in so far as they affect the ruler; they depend solely
and entirely upon the will of the reigning sovereign; and as soon as
Prince Rakoto comes to the throne, he can alter them at his pleasure,
and make his former slave his queen and her son heir-apparent.

I have spoken of the character of this woman. As regards her beauty, if
it is to be discovered, it must certainly not be judged of by European
eyes, or the beholder should have lived long enough among the natives to
have become accustomed to their ugly features, and to consider the least
hideous among them as handsome.

June 2. To-day we were present at a great review on the Field of Mars, a
beautiful meadow spreading out at the foot of the hill in front of the
town. It is asserted that from ten to twelve thousand soldiers are
always assembled at Tananariva; but, like the estimate of the houses,
this number must probably be reduced about one half. The military who
appeared on this occasion did not certainly exceed 4500 or 5000 men. The
soldiers formed a great double square, with the officers and band in the
centre.

A review of this kind is held every fortnight--namely, on the third day
of every second week; its object is to ascertain that the soldiers who
should be on duty are present; that they are in health, and their
weapons and clothes in proper condition. Their names are called over,
and if in a company only a few are missing, the captain merely receives
a reprimand; but if the list of absentees is a long one, the commanding
officer is punished on the spot with a dozen blows or more. The latter
incident is reported to be of frequent occurrence; for among such a
large number of soldiers, there are many whose homes are several days’
journey from the capital, so that they can hardly find time, between one
review and another, to go thither, cultivate their fields, provide
themselves with food, and return punctually.

No military manœuvres were undertaken, and I was told that war is
carried on entirely without system, as among the wildest tribes.
Especially when a company thinks itself lost, all subordination ceases,
and the men take to flight on every side.

Horrible is the fate of the sick and wounded soldiers, not only during a
flight, when, of course, no one cares about them, but even during
ordinary marches. Their comrades are bound to take care of them, and to
carry and feed them; but how can people be expected to do this who are
themselves in want of every thing, and often so much weakened by hunger
and toil of every kind that they can scarcely drag themselves along and
carry their weapons? It frequently happens that efforts are made by the
soldiers to rid themselves of these poor wretches. They are not killed
outright, which would be rather a benefit to them, under the
circumstances; but their comrades drag them along the ground, without
giving them any food, or even a refreshing draught from the nearest
spring. When they have ceased to give any sign of life, they are left by
the wayside, no one caring to ascertain whether they are dead or not.

On these marches a fearful number of lives are sacrificed. In the last
war, for instance, which the queen waged against the Seklaves two years
ago, ten thousand men were sent into the field. More than half died on
the march for want of food; many deserted; and when the army reached
the scene of action, its force is said to have scarcely exceeded three
thousand men.

The prisoners are much better off, for care is taken of them, as a
profit is derived from their sale; and even as slaves they are not in
nearly so unhappy a condition as the soldiers and peasants. Their owners
feed, clothe, and lodge them; nor are they overworked; for, by
transgressing in this respect, the owner runs the risk of losing his
bondman, for his slave runs away; and fugitive slaves are seldom
captured, there being no police or similar institution in the country.
The master certainly has the power of beating his slave to death; the
government will not interfere with him; but his own interest will deter
him from any extreme measures. Many slaves pay their owners a small
yearly tax in money, and live like free men; others even keep slaves
themselves, who work for their master-bondmen.

After the review, the officers and music marched past our house to
welcome Mr. Lambert.

The officers were mostly clothed, like their brethren at Tamatavé, in
European garb, and looked ridiculous and comical enough. One wore a
dress-coat, the tails of which reached almost to his heels; another had
a coat of flowered chintz; a third, a faded red jacket, which had once
done duty as part of a marine’s uniform. Their hats were just as diverse
in character. There were straw hats and felt hats, of all sizes and
shapes, caps and head-coverings of fearful and wonderful forms. The
generals wore the regulation cocked hat of Europe, and were mounted.

The military grades are modeled quite on the European plan; there are
thirteen gradations from the private soldier up to the field-marshal.

I succeeded also in finding European titles in Madagascar; there were
crowds of barons, counts, and princes, as at the most aristocratic
European courts.

The whole population of Madagascar is divided into eleven castes. The
eleventh caste consists of the regal personage; the tenth of the
descendants of the royal family. In this caste alone brothers and
sisters may intermarry, probably in order to prevent there being too
many scions of the blood royal. The six following castes, from the ninth
to the fourth inclusive, comprise the nobles of higher and lower rank;
the people belong to the third caste, the “white” slaves to the
second--a class including all who were once free, and have been sold as
prisoners of war or as a punishment for crimes; and the first, or lowest
caste, consists of the “black” slaves, namely, those who have been born
in that condition of life.

A noble may take a wife not only out of his own caste, but out of the
two immediately below him, but never from a higher one. On no account
may he marry a slave-woman; and the law does not even allow any other
kind of connection between a noble and a slave. In this respect, by the
way, Madagascar might serve as a model to those countries governed by
white men where slavery exists; for the morality of the entire community
would be greatly benefited if this custom were observed. This law was in
former times very stringently enforced, and on the discovery of a
connection of the kind alluded to the noble was sold as a slave, and the
slave-woman beheaded. If the woman in the case was a noble and the man a
slave, both were beheaded. In these latter days, however, this
strictness has been much relaxed. Indeed, in the universally low state
of morality prevailing here at the present time, the greater number of
the nobles and officials would have to lose their heads or their
freedom; and what would then become of the court? Some amount of good
is, however, still effected by the law; for when such an affair between
a nobleman and his slave is suspected, he is compelled to set her free
to escape punishment.

As polygamy has been introduced here, every man may have as many wives
as he pleases; but among the nobles only a certain number of these women
have a claim to the actual title of wife, and the first wife always
keeps precedence over those taken subsequently. She alone lives in her
husband’s house, and great respect is shown to her; her children, too,
have privileges beyond those of the other wives. The other children,
like the subsequent wives, live in little separate houses. The king may
take twelve lawful wives, but they must be all members of the highest
families. The ruling queen and her sisters and daughters have the right
of sending away their husbands and taking new ones as often as they
choose so to do.

Our breakfast was just over, and I had retired to my room, when Mr.
Lambert came to announce that the queen had summoned us to an
introduction or audience. This honor is generally accorded to strangers
eight or ten days after their arrival; but her majesty seemed desirous
of showing distinction to Mr. Lambert above all Europeans who had ever
visited her court, and so, not later than the fourth day, we had the
happiness of appearing before that exalted personage.

All these tokens of honor and consideration astonished Mr. Lambert not a
little. He had already told me in the Mauritius that he had very many
good friends at the queen’s court, and dangerous enemies also, who might
have taken advantage of his absence to slander him in the vilest manner,
not only in her eyes, but in Prince Rakoto’s too. But a circumstance
that Mr. Lambert now confided to me for the first time was, that
attempts had been made in another quarter to prejudice the queen against
him, and that he expected not exactly to be coldly received, but to be
looked upon with some degree of suspicion.

And now, for the first time, I got an insight into Mr. Lambert’s real
plans and intentions, which were certainly not calculated to prepossess
the queen in his favor.

When Mr. Lambert came to Tananariva for the first time in the year 1855,
and saw with what cruelty the queen ruled, a wish arose in his mind to
free the unhappy people from this tyrant. He succeeded in gaining the
friendship of Prince Rakoto, who was also deeply moved by the people’s
misery, and who at that period told Mr. Lambert that he cared not who
ruled over the nation so long as the government was good and just. They
soon came to an understanding, and Mr. Lambert made a treaty with Prince
Rakoto, and conceived the design of seeking help from either the French
or English government.

In the year 1856 he went to Paris, and in a private interview with the
emperor he made him acquainted with the boundless misery of the people
of Madagascar, and tried to induce the French autocrat to come to the
assistance of that unhappy country. But it is difficult to enlist the
sympathy of a European government where philanthropy and not state
interest is in question. This audience had no result, and an interview
of Mr. Lambert with the English minister, Lord Clarendon, also led to
nothing; nay, instead of any advantage accruing from this step, it was
productive of difficulty and discomfiture, for every thing Mr. Lambert
had done in reference to Madagascar came to the ears of a great
missionary society in England. The society feared that, in the event of
the French occupation of the island, the Roman Catholic religion might
be the only form of worship introduced and licensed, which, in their
opinion, would be, of course, a much greater misfortune for the
inhabitants than the mere fact of their being ruled by an utterly cruel
woman, like Queen Ranavola, who plays with human lives and sacrifices
them at her pleasure! The society accordingly formed the notable
resolution of opposing Mr. Lambert in every possible way, and
immediately dispatched a chosen member, a missionary, to Tananariva to
acquaint the queen with Mr. Lambert’s design against her.

To judge from what occurred, as it was reported to me, it would appear
that even an English missionary is capable of abandoning truth and
sincerity in order to effect a purpose, and, upon occasion, to employ
arts of a Jesuitical kind.

In the Mauritius, where the missionary made some stay before proceeding
to Madagascar, he ventured to assert that Queen Ranavola had summoned
him to Madagascar!

On his arrival at Tananariva he took care to impress upon the queen that
he had been dispatched to her by the English government for the purpose
of assuring her that England desired nothing more than to continue the
same friendly relations with her country which had existed in the time
of George the Fourth. He farther informed the queen of every thing that
Mr. Lambert had undertaken against her in France and England;
represented that gentleman as a very dangerous person, and a spy in the
employ of the French government; and predicted that Mr. Lambert would
speedily make his appearance, accompanied by a body of French troops, to
depose her in favor of her son.

If even these misrepresentations had been made to effect some noble
purpose, they could only have been justified by the very Jesuitical
axiom that “the end sanctifies the means.” But the object sought here
was to impede, or perhaps altogether to frustrate, a truly Christian and
philanthropic work, an undertaking calculated to promote the well-being
of the entire nation. A missionary society ought surely to understand
the principles of brotherly love better than this, and keep in view the
maxims of religion, and especially to remember that they are not to be
made subservient to political views.

The missionary’s calling is the most exalted of any, for to few men are
vouchsafed the opportunities of doing good that fall to his lot; but the
misfortune is, that the majority of missionaries busy themselves more in
worldly intrigues than in the amelioration of the human race, and that,
instead of inculcating charity, union, and toleration, they excite their
followers by their preachings to hate, contemn, and, if possible, to
persecute every sect but their own. I can only refer my readers to what
I have written on this subject in my former works, particularly
concerning the English and American missionaries.

So the missionary from England came to Tananariva bearing the sword
instead of the olive-branch. He not only unfolded Mr. Lambert’s alarming
schemes to the queen, but gave Prince Rakoto a long lecture on the
exceeding turpitude of his conduct toward his royal mother in meditating
revolt, declaring, moreover, that the English court had been so shocked
by the news as verily to have _put on mourning_!

The prince condescended to excuse himself by asserting, in reply, that,
had he meditated removing his mother from the throne to place himself
upon it, he should have merited the reproach; but that such was not the
case, as he merely wished to deprive the queen of the power of
perpetrating cruelties; every other privilege he wished her to retain,
and for himself he had asked nothing at all.

At Tananariva, and also in the Mauritius, a report was circulated that
Mr. Lambert had obtained the prince’s signature to the contract by
fraud; that the prince had not been at all inclined to enter into a
private treaty with Mr. Lambert, but that the latter had invited him to
a banquet, intoxicated him, and prevailed on him to sign while in that
condition. It was farther stated that when, on the following day, Prince
Rakoto heard what he had done, he was so incensed against Mr. Lambert
that he had banished him from his presence forever. Mr. Lambert was
therefore very considerately advised never to return to Madagascar, as
he might fear the worst from the hatred and contempt alike of the queen
and of Prince Rakoto.

At Tananariva the prince himself told me the story of the signing of the
treaty. He let me read the document, and assured me that the tale of the
intoxication was a fiction; that he had perfectly understood what he was
doing, and that he never repented this step at all. I much wish the
author of this scandalous report could have seen with what contemptuous
anger he was spoken of on this occasion.

I must also contradict a statement that the English missionary spread
abroad in the Mauritius on his return from Madagascar. He boasted every
where of the favorable reception he had met with at Tananariva, and of
the great favor he enjoyed at the hands of the queen and of Prince
Rakoto. This favor was so great, in fact, that after a stay of scarcely
four weeks at Tananariva he received a peremptory order to depart. He
applied for permission to remain longer, alleging as a reason that the
fever season was not yet past, and disease was still rife in the
lowlands. He begged the queen to take this into consideration, and not
to expose him to mortal danger. But all was in vain; he was compelled to
quit Tananariva. The queen was highly exasperated against him because he
had distributed some Bibles, while Prince Rakoto resented his behavior
toward Mr. Lambert.




CHAPTER XIII.

     Introduction at Court.--The Monosina.--The Royal Palace.--The
     Hovas.--Scenes of Horror under the Queen’s Rule.--Executions.--The
     Tanguin.--Persecution of the Christians.--One of the Queen’s
     Journeys.--Her Hatred of Europeans.--Bull-fights.--Taurine
     Mausoleum.


Our introduction at court took place on the 2d of June.

Toward four o’clock in the afternoon our bearers carried us to the
palace. Over the door is fixed a great gilt eagle with extended wings.
According to the rule laid down here by etiquette, we stepped over the
threshold first with the right foot, and observed the same ceremony on
coming to a second gate leading to a great court-yard in front of the
palace. Here we saw the queen sitting on a balcony on the first story,
and were directed to stand in a row in the court-yard opposite to her.
Under the balcony stood some soldiers, who went through sundry
evolutions, concluding with a very comic point of drill, which consisted
in suddenly poking up the right foot as if it had been stung by a
tarantula.

The queen was wrapped, according to the custom of the country, in a wide
silk simbu, and wore on her head a big golden crown. Though she sat in
the shade, a very large umbrella of crimson silk was held up over her
head; this being, it appears, a point of regal state.

The queen is of rather dark complexion, strong and sturdily built, and,
though already seventy-five years of age, she is, to the misfortune of
her poor country, still hale and of active mind. At one time she is said
to have been a great drunkard, but she has given up that fatal
propensity some years ago.

To the right of the queen stood her son, Prince Rakoto, and on the left
her adopted son, Prince Ramboasalama; behind her sat and stood sundry
nephews and nieces, and other relatives, male and female, and several
grandees of the empire.

The minister who had conducted us to the palace made a short speech to
the queen, after which we had to bow three times, and to repeat the
words “Esaratsara tombokoe,” equivalent to “We salute you cordially;” to
which she replied, “Esaratsara,” which means “Well--good!” Then we
turned to the left to salute the tomb of King Radama, lying a few paces
on one side, with three similar bows, whereupon we returned to our
former place in front of the balcony and made three more. Mr. Lambert,
on this occasion, held up a gold piece of fifty francs’ value, and put
it in the hands of the minister who accompanied us. This gift, which
every stranger has to offer when he is presented for the first time at
court, is called “Monosina.” It is not necessary that it should consist
of a fifty-franc piece; the queen contents herself with a Spanish dollar
or a five-franc piece. Mr. Lambert had, however, already given fifty
francs on the occasion of the “sambas-sambas.”

After the delivery of the gold piece, the queen asked Mr. Lambert if he
wished to put any question to her, or if he stood in need of any thing;
to which he answered “No.” She was also condescending enough to turn to
me, and ask if I was well, and if I had escaped the fever.[B] After I
had answered this question, we staid a few minutes longer looking at
each other, when the bowings and greetings began anew. We had to take
leave of Radama’s monument, and on retiring were again reminded not on
any account to put the left foot first over the threshold.

Such is the way in which the proud Queen of Madagascar grants audiences
to strangers. She considers herself far too high and exalted to let them
come near her at the first interview. Those who have the great good
fortune to win her especial favor may afterward be introduced into the
palace itself; but this is never achieved at a first audience.

The royal palace is a very large wooden building, consisting of a ground
floor and two stories, surmounted by a peculiarly high roof. The stories
are surrounded by broad galleries. Around the building are pillars also
of wood, eighty feet high, supporting the roof, which rises to a height
of forty feet above them, resting in the centre on a pillar no less than
a hundred and twenty feet high. All these columns, the one in the centre
not excepted, consist of a single trunk; and when it is considered that
the woods which contain trees of a sufficient size to furnish these
columns are fifty or sixty English miles from the capital, that the
roads are nowhere paved, and in some places quite impassable, and that
all the pillars are dragged hither without the help of a single beast of
burden, or any kind of machine, and are afterward prepared and set up by
means of the simplest tools, the building of this palace may with truth
be called a gigantic undertaking, and the place itself be ranked among
the wonders of the world. In bringing home the chief pillar alone, five
thousand persons were employed, and twelve days were occupied in its
erection.

All these labors were performed by the people as compulsory service, for
which they received neither wages nor food. I was told that during the
progress of the work fifteen thousand people fell victims to the hard
toil and the want of proper nourishment. But the queen is very little
disturbed by such a circumstance; half the population might perish, if
only her high behests are fulfilled.

In front of the principal building a handsome spacious court-yard has
been left; around this space stand several pretty houses, all of wood.
The chief building is, in fact, uninhabited, and contains only great
halls of state and banqueting-rooms; the dwelling-rooms and
sleeping-rooms of the queen are in one of the side buildings,
communicating by a gallery with the palace.

On the left, the “silver palace” adjoins the larger one. It takes its
name from the fact that all the Vandyked ends with which the roof is
decorated, and the window and door frames, are hung with innumerable
little silver bells. This palace is the residence of Prince Rakoto, who,
however, makes very little use of it, generally living at his house in
the city.

Beside the silver palace stands the monument of King Radama, a tiny
wooden house without windows; to this fact, however, and to the farther
circumstance of its being built upon a pedestal, it owes its sole
resemblance to a monument.

The singular custom prevails in Madagascar, that when a king dies, all
his treasures in gold and silver ware and other valuables are laid with
him in the grave. In case of need, the heir can dig up the treasure,
and, so far as I could ascertain, this had been done in every instance.

Radama’s treasure is only estimated at 50,000 piastres, but his father’s
was valued at a million. The treasure or property of the present
reigning queen is computed, according to the account I received, at
between 500,000 and 600,000 dollars, and her yearly income at 30,000 to
40,000 dollars. The latter sum she is able to add annually, almost
without deduction, to her fund, for she incurs no expense in her
government or for her personal wants. As to the first, the whole burden
falls upon the people, who have to work without pay; and with respect to
the latter, the queen is the owner of the land, and possesses a great
number of slaves, who have to provide every necessary for her household.
Even the very clothes she wears are mostly made of materials produced
in the country, and woven and prepared by male and female slaves.

Among the natives at Tananariva there are said to be some who have
property to the amount of several hundred thousand dollars; but they
make a secret of their wealth, for if the queen should obtain
intelligence of the whereabouts of such a treasure, the wish to seize it
and carry it off might very probably enter her royal mind.

The whole wealth of the island in ready money is estimated at one
million dollars at most.

I do not grudge the queen the treasure she has accumulated; but it would
be a fortunate thing for the population of the island if it were to be
buried very soon, in company--of course--with its gracious possessor.
She is certainly one of the proudest and most cruel women on the face of
the earth, and her whole history is a record of bloodshed and deeds of
horror. At a moderate computation, it is reckoned that from twenty to
thirty thousand people perish annually in Madagascar, some through the
continual executions and poisonings, others through grievous labor
purposely inflicted, and from warfare. If this woman’s rule lasts much
longer, the beautiful island will be quite depopulated; the population
is said to have already shrunk to half the number that it comprised in
King Radama’s time, and a vast number of villages have disappeared from
the face of the land.

Executions and massacres are often conducted in wholesale fashion, and
fall chiefly upon the Seklaves, whom the queen seems to look upon with
peculiar hatred; but the Malagaseys and the other nations are not much
less distasteful to her; and the only tribe that finds any favor at all
in her eyes is, as I have already said, the Hovas, from whom she herself
is descended.

These Hovas were once the most scorned and hated of all the races in
Madagascar; they were regarded as the Pariahs are regarded in India.
Under King Radama, however, and especially under the present queen, this
race has distinguished itself, and attained the first place by dint of
intelligence, bravery, and ambition. But, unhappily, the race has not
been improved by prosperity, and the good qualities of the Hovas are
more than overbalanced by their evil propensities: Mr. Laborde even
declares that the Hova embodies in himself the vices of all the tribes
in the island. Mendacity, cunning, and hypocrisy are not only habitual,
but cherished vices with him, and he tries to initiate his offspring
therein at the earliest possible age. The Hovas dwell among themselves
in a continual state of suspicion, and friendship is with them an
impossibility. Their cunning and slyness are said to be incredible: the
most practiced diplomatists of Europe would be no match for them in
these qualities.

Of Malay origin, the Hovas are undoubtedly less ugly than the other
races in Madagascar. Their features have less of the negro type, and are
even better shaped than those of the Malays in Java and the Indian
Archipelago, whose superiors they are also in stature and bodily
strength. Their complexion varies through every shade from olive-yellow
to dark reddish-brown. Some are very light; but, on the other hand, I
noticed many, especially among the soldiers, whose color approximated so
much to the red tint that I should have taken them for more genuine
“red-skins” than even the North American Indians, to whom that name is
applied from the ruddy tinge in their skin. Their eyes and hair are
black; they wear the hair long, and this is of a frizzly woolly texture.

Even the Hovas, the favorites of the queen, are ruled with a ruthless
iron hand; and though they may not be put to death by hundreds and
thousands like the other nations, they are still punished with death for
very trifling offenses.

Blood--and always blood--is the maxim of Queen Ranavola, and every day
seems lost to this wicked woman on which she can not sign at least half
a dozen death-warrants.

That my readers may become better acquainted with this queen, whose
cause the English missionary society, in its philanthropy, has so warmly
espoused, whose defense their agent has dared to undertake, and whom he
has sought to maintain on the throne, I will cite a few of the deeds of
horror which have been perpetrated on the unhappy land at her command,
and of which the first alone would be sufficient to brand with infamy
the name of Ranavola forever.

In the year 1831, when the army was still well trained, and the
discipline introduced by King Radama had not yet been quite forgotten,
the queen conquered a great portion of the eastern part of the coast,
whose chief population consisted of Seklaves. She ordered all the men of
the conquered country to come to an appointed place to do homage to her.
When the men, twenty-five thousand in number, were assembled, they were
commanded to lay down their arms, and they were then led out into a
large open space quite surrounded by soldiers. Here they were told to
kneel down in token of submission; but scarcely had they done this, when
the soldiers fell upon the unhappy wretches, and massacred them every
one. Their wives and children were afterward sold as slaves.

Such is the lot of the conquered nations; but the queen’s own subjects
are not much better off.

In the year 1837, for instance, the queen received a report from her
ministers to the effect that there were many magicians, thieves,
violators of graves, and other evil-doers among the people. The queen
immediately convened a kabar, or judicial meeting, for seven weeks, and
at the same time caused it to be proclaimed to the people that all
evil-doers who delivered themselves up should have their lives granted
to them, but that those who failed so to do should suffer the punishment
of death. A body of nearly sixteen hundred men gave themselves up
accordingly. About fifteen hundred had voluntarily surrendered
themselves to justice, and ninety-six had been denounced. Of these
ninety-six, fourteen were burnt; and of the remaining eighty-two, some
were hurled over a high rock, in the district of Tananariva, which has
been the death-place of thousands; others were put into pits, and
scalded to death with boiling water; others, again, were executed with
the spear, or poisoned; a few were beheaded, and several had their limbs
separately hacked off. The most painful death of all, perhaps, was
inflicted on a portion of the victims, who were sewn up in mats in such
a way that the head only protruded, and who were then left alive to rot.

Those who had been their own accusers were spared from execution, in
accordance with the royal promise; but their fate was far worse than
that of the men condemned to death. The queen declared that it would be
dangerous to set such a number of criminals at liberty, and that they
must, at any rate, be made harmless. So she had heavy irons fastened
round their necks and wrists, and the unhappy victims were fastened
together in gangs of four and five by very thick iron bars, about
eighteen inches long. After this operation had been performed on them,
they were set free--that is to say, they were at liberty to go where
they would, only that guards were appointed in all directions, whose
office it was to give strict heed that none of the irons were filed off.
If one of a group died, it was necessary to cut off his head to
extricate the corpse from the iron neck-ring, and the dead man’s fetters
were left to weigh upon the survivors, so that at last they could hardly
drag themselves from place to place, and perished miserably at last
under the heavy weight.

In the year 1855 certain people in the province of Vonizonga
unfortunately took it into their heads to assert that they had
discovered a means of catching a thief by invisible agency; that when he
stretched out his hand with felonious intent, they could charm his arm
so as to prevent him from drawing it back or moving from the spot. When
the queen heard of this, she commanded that the people in question
should be severely punished, for she fancied she herself might one day
come into that district, and be killed by similar witchcraft. Two
hundred persons were taken prisoners, and condemned to the _tanguin_, of
whom a hundred and eighty perished.

The tanguin, or poisoning test, is often applied to persons of all
grades--to the high nobles as well as the slaves; for the mere
accusation of any crime is sufficient to bring it upon the victim. Any
man may start up as accuser. He need not bring forward any proofs, for
the only condition he has to fulfill is to deposit a sum of twenty-eight
and a half dollars. The accused persons are not allowed to make any
defense, for they must submit to the poisoning ordeal under all
circumstances. When any one gets through without perishing, a third part
of the deposited money is given to him, a second third belongs to the
queen, and the remainder is given back to the accuser. If the accused
dies, the accuser receives all his money back, for then the accusation
is looked upon as well founded.

The poisoning process in managed in the following manner: The poison
employed is taken from the kernel of a fruit as large as a peach,
growing upon trees called _Tanguinea Veneniflora_. The lampi-tanguini,
or person who administers the poison, announces to the accused the day
on which he is to take it. For forty-eight hours before the appointed
time he is allowed to eat very little, and for the last twenty-four
hours before the trial nothing at all. His friends accompany him to the
poisoner’s house; here he has to undress himself, and make oath that he
has not had recourse to any kind of magic. The lampi-tanguini then
scrapes away as much powder from the kernel with a knife as he judges
necessary for the trial. Before administering the dose to the accused,
he asks him if he confesses his crime; but the culprit never does this,
as he would have to take the poison notwithstanding. The lampi-tanguini
spreads the poison on three little pieces of skin, about an inch in
size, cut from the back of a fat fowl; these he rolls together, and bids
the accused swallow them.

In former days, almost every one who was subjected to this ordeal died
in great agony; but for the last ten years every one who has not been
condemned by the queen herself to the tanguin is permitted to make use
of the following antidote. As soon as he has taken the poison, his
friends make him drink rice-water in such quantities that his whole body
sometimes swells visibly, and quick and violent vomiting is generally
brought on. If the poisoned man is fortunate enough to get rid not only
of the poison, but of the three little skins (which latter must be
returned uninjured), he is declared innocent, and his relations carry
him home in triumph with songs and rejoicings. But if one of the pieces
of skin should fail to reappear, or if it be at all injured, his life is
forfeited, and he is executed with the spear or by some other means.

One of the nobles who frequently visited our house had been condemned
several years ago to take the tanguin. Happily for him, he threw up the
poison and the three pieces of skin in perfect condition. His brother
ran in great haste to the wife of the accused to announce this joyful
event to her, and the poor woman was so moved by it that she sank
fainting to the ground. I was astonished at hearing of such a display of
feeling from one of the women of Madagascar, and could not at first
believe the account true. I heard, however, that if the husband had
died, she would have been called a witch, and probably condemned to the
tanguin likewise, so that the violent emotion was probably caused more
by joy at her own deliverance than the good fortune of her husband.

During my stay in Tananariva a woman suddenly lost several of her
children by death. The mother was accused of causing the fate of the
poor little ones by magic arts, and was condemned to the tanguin. The
poor creature threw up the poison and two of the skins, but as the third
did not make its appearance, she was killed without mercy.

As I have already said, the queen, immediately on her accession, had
strictly forbidden the profession of the Christian faith, which had been
introduced under King Radama. Notwithstanding this, there are said to be
a considerable number of Christians still in the island, who, of course,
keep their belief as secret as possible. In spite of all their caution,
however, about six years ago all the members of a little congregation
were denounced and captured. One of their number was burnt by the
queen’s orders. This punishment is generally inflicted only on nobles,
officers, and soldiers; fourteen were thrown over the rock, and many
others beaten to death. Of the remainder, the nobles were deprived of
their titles and honors, and the commoners sold as slaves. All the
Bibles discovered were publicly burnt in the great market-place.

The punishment of being sold as a slave is one of the lightest to which
the queen condemns her subjects. The following facts will show on what
slight grounds such sales are effected.

Once the queen had caused some Spanish dollars to be melted down for
silver dishes. When these dishes were brought to her, she found fault
with the workmanship, summoned the goldsmiths and silversmiths to the
palace, and exhorted them to furnish better work. The good people did
their very best, and, to their own misfortune, turned out better dishes
than they had at first produced. The queen was satisfied, praised the
workmen, and, as a reward for their exertions, had the whole guild sold
as slaves, on the ground that they had not at first delivered such good
dishes as they had since proved themselves able to make.

At another time many persons lost their freedom in consequence of a
death in the royal family. When a nobleman of any caste dies, the duty
of wrapping him in the dead-cloth and placing him in the grave devolves
upon the fourth caste. The deceased in this case had fallen into
disgrace, and been banished from the capital, and mourning was not put
on for him at court; under these circumstances, the nobles of the fourth
class feared to offend the queen by paying the last honors to the dead
man, and left this duty to men from among the people. As soon as this
came to the queen’s ears, she laid a fine of four hundred dollars upon
the whole caste, and had one hundred and twenty-six persons selected
from it and sold as slaves; among these were many women and children.

The entire population of a village sometimes fall into slavery merely
for eating the flesh of a stolen ox. Stealing an ox is a crime punished
with death; but if the stolen beast belonged to the queen, not only is
the thief executed, but all who have partaken of the ox’s flesh are sold
into slavery; and as no one takes the trouble to ascertain who has been
implicated and who not, the punishment falls upon the whole village in
which the ox was sold and slaughtered. None are spared but unweaned
children, who are graciously supposed not to have eaten any of the meat.

To have attained to wealth and independence is too great a crime in a
subject not to draw down all kinds of persecution on the luckless
delinquent. If the queen gets to know that any village is rich in
cattle, rice, and other produce--money, of course, is out of the
question among the villagers--she imposes a task upon the people which
they can not execute; for instance, she requires them to deposit a
certain amount of wood, or a certain number of stones, at a given place
on an appointed day. The quantity of materials to be delivered is made
so large, and the time allowed for their delivery so short, that, even
with the greatest exertion, and every anxiety to fulfill the conditions,
the completion becomes impossible. The people are then condemned to pay
a fine of some hundreds of dollars; and as they have no money, they are
obliged to sell their cattle, their rice, their slaves, and not
unfrequently themselves.

Separate wealthy persons are plundered in the following way: An
Ysitralenga--that is to say, a man who does not tell lies--proceeds to
the house of the selected victim, accompanied by some soldiers; here,
sticking a lance in the ground, he accuses the head of the family of
some offense against the government--of having spoken disrespectfully of
the queen, or committed some other crime, and takes him prisoner, and
leads him before the judge. If the accused loses the suit, his whole
property is confiscated; if he wins it, half his wealth will have gone
in bribes and other expenses; for, although Madagascar is a half savage
country, the judges understand their business just as well as in the
most civilized states in Europe.

But executions, poisonings, slavery, plunderings, and other punishments
do not exhaust the people’s catalogue of woes. In devising plans of
malignity and cruelty, Queen Ranavola’s penetration is wonderful; and
she has invented farther means for ruining the unhappy population, and
plunging it still deeper into misery. One device for carrying out this
end, often adopted by the queen, is a royal journey. Thus, in the year
1845, Queen Ranavola made a progress to the province of Mancrinerina,
ostensibly to enjoy the sport of buffalo-hunting. On this journey she
was accompanied by more than 50,000 persons. She had invited all the
officers, all the nobles, far and near, around Tananariva; and that the
procession should appear as splendid as possible, every one had to
bring with him all his servants and slaves. Of soldiers alone, 10,000
marched with them, and almost as many bearers, and 12,000 men always
kept a day’s journey in advance, to make the roads broader and repair
them. Nor were the inhabitants of the villages spared through which the
queen passed. A certain number, at least, had to follow the train with
their wives and children. Many of the people were sent forward, like the
road-menders, to prepare the night’s lodging for the queen; no trifling
task, as the houses or tents prepared for the royal family had to be
surrounded by a high rampart of earth, lest her gracious majesty should
be attacked by enemies during the night, and torn forcibly away from her
beloved people.

Inasmuch as this philanthropic potentate is accustomed, on a journey of
this kind, only to make provision for her own support, and gives her
companions nothing but the permission to live on the stores they have
brought for themselves (provided, of course, they have been able to
procure any), famine very soon makes its appearance among the mass of
soldiers, people, and slaves. This was the case in the journey of which
I speak; and in the four months of its duration, nearly 10,000 people,
and among them a great proportion of women and children, are said to
have perished. Even the majority of the nobles had to suffer the
greatest privations; for, wherever a little rice was left, it was sold
at such a high price that only the richest and noblest were able to
purchase it.

In the first years of Queen Ranavola’s rule, before she found herself
seated securely enough on the throne to gratify her bloodthirsty
propensities on her own subjects, her hatred was chiefly directed toward
the descendants of King Radama and toward the Europeans. Regarding the
latter, she frequently held councils with her ministers and other
grandees concerning the measures to be taken to keep the detested race
away from her territories. Mr. Laborde informed me that on these
occasions the most absurd and extravagant propositions were brought
forward. Thus, for instance, one of the wise councilors urged the
expediency of building a very high, strong wall in the sea round about
Madagascar, so that no ship should be able to approach any of the
harbors. A second wiseacre proposed to the queen to have four gigantic
pairs of shears manufactured, and fixed on the roads leading from the
various harbors to the capital. Whenever a European came along, the
shears were to be clapped to the moment he stepped between them, and
thus the daring intruder would be cut in two. A third councilor, as wise
as his companions, advised the queen to have a machine prepared with a
great iron plate, against which the cannon balls fired from hostile
ships would rebound, and sink the aggressive vessels by being hurled
back upon them.

All these suggestions were received by her majesty with much
approbation, and formed matter for deliberation in the exalted council
for days and weeks; but, unfortunately, none of them were found
practicable.

I must mention another touching trait, which the English missionary
society will not fail to interpret greatly to the advantage of Queen
Ranavola, should it not have done so already.

The queen is particularly fond of witnessing fights between bulls, and
this noble sport is frequently carried on in the fine large court-yard
in front of the palace. Among the horned combatants, some are her
favorites: she asks after their health every day, and is as anxious
about them as a European lady might be about her lapdogs; and, to carry
out the simile, she often takes more interest in their well-being than
in the comforts of her servants and friends.

In one of these contests, one of her favorite bulls--in fact, the chief
of them--was slain: the poor queen was inconsolable at her loss. Until
now, no one had ever seen her weep. But then, she had never before met
with so heavy a misfortune. She had certainly lost her parents, her
husband, a few children, and some brothers and sisters; but what were
all these in comparison to the favorite bull? She wept much and
bitterly, and it was long before she would take comfort. The animal was
buried with all the honors accorded to a grandee of the state. It was
wrapped in a number of simbus, and covered with a great white cloth, and
the marshals had to lay it in the grave. The marshals showed on this
occasion that the race of courtiers flourishes in Madagascar; they were
so proud of the distinction that they boast of it to the present day.
Two great stones are placed upon the grave, in memory of the dear
departed; and the queen is said to think of him still with gentle
sorrow.

The bull’s monument is in the inner town. I saw it myself, and thought,
also with sorrow, not of the bull, but of the unhappy people languishing
under the cruel oppression of this barbarous queen; and with sorrow,
too, I thought of the equally unhappy sectarian spirit that can induce
any section of a Christian community to become the champions of such a
woman!




CHAPTER XIV.

     Dinner at Mr. Laborde’s.--Foot-boxing.--Ladies of Madagascar and
     Parisian Fashions.--The Conspiracy.--A Dream.--A Fancy-dress
     Ball.--An unquiet Night.--Concert at Court.--The Silver Palace.--An
     Excursion of the Queen.


On the 3d, 4th, and 5th of June I was very unwell, with premonitory
symptoms announcing a coming attack of the malignant fever of
Madagascar. It luckily happened that, during these days, nothing of any
interest occurred.

On the 6th of June Mr. Laborde gave a grand dinner in honor of Prince
Rakoto, in his garden-house, situate at the foot of the hill.

Although the dinner was announced for six o’clock, we were carried to
the house as early as three o’clock. On the way we passed a place in the
upper town on which nineteen heavy guns (eighteen-pounders) were
planted, the muzzles pointing toward the lower town, the suburbs, and
the valley. They were placed there by King Radama, who had received them
as a present from the English. They were not landed at Tamatavé, but at
Bombetok, on the eastern coast. The distance from this place to the
capital is greater than from Tamatavé, but the roads are better, and
river conveyance can be made available for several days’ journey.

On our arrival at Mr. Laborde’s garden-house, all kinds of efforts were
made to shorten the interval before dinner: several native sports were
exhibited, the most popular of which was a kind of “foot-boxing.” The
combatants kicked each other all over, and with such hearty good-will
that I expected every moment broken legs or ribs would be the result.
This delicate sport is in particular favor among the people in winter,
as it effectually warms those engaged in it. The coldest season here is
between the month of May till the end of July, when the thermometer
often falls to four, three, or even to one degree (Réaumur).
Nevertheless, every thing remains green; the trees do not lose their
leaves, and the landscape looks as pretty and blooming as in Europe in
the middle of spring. The inhabitants of Tananariva are fond of the
summer heat, and as they have no means of procuring wood, and of thus
artificially supplying the want of animal heat, they resort to the
aforesaid pastime of foot-boxing.

The rich make their slaves bring wood from the distant forests to kindle
fires. In Mr. Laborde’s house, a coal fire was kept up in a great
brazier from early in the morning till late at night, but, of course,
the door or the windows remained always open. This piece of luxury costs
a dollar per day--a very high price compared with the cheapness of all
other necessaries.

The foot-boxing was followed by dancing and gymnastic exercises; nor was
music wanting, for a band had been provided, which executed some pieces
skillfully enough. I was not so well pleased with the songs of a number
of native girls, who had been taught by a missionary residing with Mr.
Laborde. They knew a number of songs by heart, and did not scream in
such shrill fashion as those whom we had before heard; on the contrary,
their performance was tolerably correct; but it was a dreary
entertainment, and I was devoutly thankful when they came to the last
bar.

A little before six o’clock came the prince, accompanied by his little
son, his beloved Mary, and a female friend of hers. Mary made even a
less favorable impression upon me than when I first saw her. The fault
was in her dress, for she was attired completely in the European style.
Whatever other people may say, the stiff, exaggerated fashions diffused
by Paris over the world do not charm me, even when worn by our own
countrywomen, and only look well on those whom nothing can disfigure;
but where there is a complete lack of natural beauty and grace, they
become whimsical and ridiculous, and particularly so in conjunction with
clumsy figures and monkey faces. Madame Mary may be a very good
creature, and I should not like to offend her in any way; but that did
not prevent me from being obliged to bite my lips till the blood almost
came in the effort to avoid laughing aloud at her appearance. Over half
a dozen stiff-hooped petticoats she wore a woolen dress with a number of
great flounces, and great bows of ribbon, the latter fastened, not in
front, but at the back. She had thrown a French shawl over her
shoulders, and could never arrange it to her satisfaction; and on the
top of her head, woolly as a curled poodle’s, was perched a quizzical
little bonnet of reeds.

Her friend wore a muslin dress, and a cap of such antiquated form that,
sexagenarian as I am, I could never remember having seen one of similar
fashion; but afterward I remembered having seen a similar one on a
portrait of my grandmother, who lived about the middle of the last
century. This woman, who was of a more clumsy figure and had uglier
features than Mary, positively frightened me every time I looked at her;
she always gave me the idea of a cannibal chief in disguise.

The dinner-party was very cheerful. I had never seen Mr. Lambert in such
excellent spirits; as for the prince, he seems always in good-humor.
After dinner, Mr. Lambert and Mr. Laborde held a short political
discussion with the prince in another room. I was admitted to take part
in this conversation, and shall have to recur to it. The evening was
unfortunately somewhat spoiled for me by the singing chorus. The
plentiful repast seemed to have inspired the ladies with peculiar
powers, for they screamed much worse than before dinner, and, to
increase the noise, clapped their hands as an accompaniment. A few also
performed the dreary dance of Madagascar to the sound of the
_marovane_, the only instrument yet invented by Malagasey musical
genius. It consists of a bamboo, as thick as a man’s arm, and four feet
long. Shreds of the bark are fastened all around it, supported by little
bridges of wood. The tone is very like that of a bad, worn-out cithern.

As a conclusion, the guests themselves danced, and between the dances
Mr. Lambert gave us some very pretty songs.

About ten o’clock Mr. Laborde whispered to me that I should allege the
weakness that still remained from my late indisposition as a pretext for
breaking up the party. I replied that this was not my province, but that
of Prince Rakoto; but he urged me to do it, adding that he had a
particular reason for his request, which he would explain to me later;
and, accordingly, I broke up the party.

Favored by the brightest of moonlight, we marched up the hill toward our
dwellings to the sound of merry music.

Prince Rakoto and Mr. Lambert then called me into a side-chamber, and
the prince declared to me once more that the private contract between
himself and Mr. Lambert had been drawn up with his full concurrence, and
that he, the prince, had been grossly calumniated when he was
represented as intoxicated at the time of his signing it. He told me
farther that Mr. Lambert had come to Madagascar by his wish, and with
the intention, in conjunction with himself and a portion of the nobility
and soldiers, to remove Queen Ranavola from the throne, but without
depriving her of her freedom, her wealth, or the honors which were her
due.

Mr. Lambert, on his part, informed me that we had dined in Mr. Laborde’s
garden-house because every thing could be more quietly discussed there,
and that I had been requested to break up the party that the little
feast might seem to have been given in my honor; finally, that we had
gone through the town with the noisy music as a sign that the object of
our meeting had been social amusement.

He then showed me in the house a complete little arsenal of sabres,
daggers, pistols, and guns, wherewith to arm the conspirators, and
leather shirts of mail for resisting lance-thrusts; and told me, in
conclusion, that all preparations had been made, and the time for action
had almost come--in fact, I might expect it every hour.

I confess that a strange feeling came over me when I found myself thus
suddenly involved in a political movement of grave importance, and at
the first moment a crowd of conflicting thoughts rushed through my
brain. I could not conceal from myself the fact that if the affair
failed, my life would be in the same danger as Mr. Lambert’s; for, in a
country like Madagascar, where every thing depends on the despotic will
of the ruler, no trouble is taken to determine the question of guilty or
not guilty. I had come to Tananariva in the company of one of the chief
conspirators; I had also been present at several meetings; more was not
required to make me an accomplice in the plot, and therefore just as
worthy of punishment as the active members themselves.

My friends in the Mauritius had certainly warned me previously against
undertaking the journey in Mr. Lambert’s company, and, from what had
been reported there, and likewise from some scattered words which Mr.
Lambert had let fall from time to time, I was able to form an idea of
what was going on; but my wish to obtain a knowledge of Madagascar was
so great that it stifled all fear. Now, indeed, there was no drawing
back; and the best I could do was to put a good face upon a bad matter,
and trust in that Providence which had already helped me in many and
great dangers.

I gave Prince Rakoto and Mr. Lambert my most heartfelt wishes for the
success of their undertaking, and then retired to my room. It was
already past midnight. I went to bed, and, exhausted as I was, soon fell
asleep; but all night long I had disturbed dreams, and, among others,
the following very singular one: I dreamed that the plot had been
discovered, and that the queen had summoned Mr. Lambert and myself to
the palace. We were brought into a large room, and had to wait there a
long, long time. At length the queen appeared with all her court; Prince
Rakoto was there too, but he stood aside in a window, and dared not look
at us.

One of the ministers--the same who had taken us to court on our first
reception--made a long speech, the purport of which I understood, in
spite of my ignorance of the Malagasey languages, and in which he
reproached Mr. Lambert for his ingratitude and treachery. Another
minister then took up the harangue, and announced that we were condemned
to the tanguin.

Hereupon we were led into another room, and a tall negro, wrapped in a
full white garment, came toward us with the little skins of poison. Mr.
Lambert was obliged to take them first; but, at the moment when I was
about to follow his example, there arose suddenly a loud din of music
and rejoicing shouts, and--I awoke, and really heard music and shouting
in the streets. It was broad day; I hastily wrapped myself in my
clothes, and hurried to the gate to see what was going on; and lo! two
men who had been condemned to the tanguin had fortunately got rid of the
poison and the three little pieces of skin, and were being led home in
triumph by their friends.

If I were of a superstitious nature, who knows what importance I might
have attached to this dream, which was partly verified by subsequent
events; but, fortunately, my temperament is not of that kind, and dreams
never trouble me but during my sleeping hours.

June 8th. To-day the prince held a grand kabar in our house, at which
many nobles and officers were present. From this period not a day passed
in which greater or smaller kabars were not held at our house, which
was, in fact, the head-quarters of the conspiracy.

June 9th. A great fancy-ball has been given at court to-day in honor of
Mr. Lambert.

What strange contrasts! On one side a conspiracy hatching--on the other,
festivals are the order of the day!

Does the queen really doubt the existence of the treaty between Prince
Rakoto and Mr. Lambert, and has she no suspicion of its intended
accomplishment? or does she wish to let the conspirators commit some
overt act, that she may afterward satiate her revenge with apparent
justice? Events will show.

Although both Mr. Lambert and myself were still very unwell, we made up
our minds to be present at this feast.

The ball began soon after one o’clock in the day, and was not held in
the apartments of the palace, but in front of the building, in the great
fore-court in which we had been admitted to our audience. As on that
former occasion, the queen sat on the balcony under the shade of her
great parasol, and we were obliged to make the usual obeisances to her
and to the tomb of King Radama. This time, however, we were not made to
stand; comfortable arm-chairs were assigned to us. Gradually the ball
company began to assemble; the guests comprised nobles of both sexes,
officers and their wives, and the queen’s female singers and dancers.
The nobles wore various costumes, and the officers appeared in European
dress; all were obliged to make numerous obeisances. Those who appeared
in costume had seats like ours given them; the rest squatted about as
they liked, in groups on the ground.

The queen’s female dancers opened the ball with the dreary Malagasey
dance. These charming creatures were wrapped from top to toe in white
simbus, and wore on their heads artificial, or, I should say, very
inartificial flowers, standing up stiffly like little flagstaffs; they
crowded into a group in such a way that they seemed all tied together.
As often as they staggered past the queen’s balcony or the monument of
King Radama, they repeated their salutes, and likewise at the end of
every separate dance. After the female dancers had retired, the officers
executed a very similar dance, only that they kept somewhat quicker
time, and their gestures were more animated--that is to say, they lifted
their feet rather higher than the performers of the other sex. Those who
had hats and caps waved them in the air from time to time, and set up a
sharp howling, intended to represent cries of joy.

After the officers followed six couples of children in fancy dresses.
The boys wore the old Spanish costume, or were attired as pages, and
looked tolerably well; but the girls were perfect scarecrows. They wore
old-fashioned French costumes--large, stiff petticoats, with short
bodices--and their heads were quite loaded with ostrich feathers,
flowers, and ribbons. After this little monkey community had performed
certain Polonaises, Schottisches, and contre-danses, acquitting
themselves, contrary to my expectation, with considerable skill, they
bowed low and retired, making way for a larger company, the males
likewise clad in the old Spanish, the females in the old French garb.

All these various costumes are commanded by the queen, who generally
gets her ideas from pictures or engravings that come in her way. The
ladies add to the costume prescribed by royalty whatever their own taste
and invention may suggest, generally showing great boldness and
originality in the combination of colors. I will give my readers an idea
of what these costumes are like by describing one of them.

The dress was of blue satin, with a border of orange color, above which
ran a broad stripe of bright cherry-colored satin. The body, also of
satin, with long skirt, shone with a brimstone hue, and a light
sea-green silk shawl was draped above it. The head was covered in such
style with stiff, clumsily-made artificial flowers, with ostrich
feathers, silk ribbons, glass beads, and all kinds of millinery, that
the hair was entirely hidden; not that the fair one lost much thereby,
but that I pitied her for the burden she had to carry.

The costumes of the other ladies showed similar contrasts in color, and
some of these tasteful dresses had been improved by a farther stroke of
ingenuity, being surmounted by high conical hats, very like those worn
by the Tyrolese peasants.

The company, consisting exclusively of the higher aristocracy, executed
various European dances, and also performed the Sega, which the
Malagaseys assert to be a native dance, though it is really derived from
the Moors. The figures, steps, and music of the Sega are all so pleasing
that, if it were once introduced in Europe, it could not fail to become
universally fashionable.

This beautiful dance was far from concluding the ball. After a short
pause, during which no refreshments were offered, the _élite_ of the
company, consisting of six couples, stepped into the court-yards. The
gentlemen were Prince Rakoto, the two Labordes, father and son, two
ministers, and a general--all the ladies were princesses or countesses.
The gentlemen were dressed in old Spanish costume except Prince Rakoto,
who wore a fancy dress so tastefully chosen that he might have appeared
with distinction in any European court ball. He wore trowsers of dark
blue cloth, with a stripe down the side, a kind of loose jerkin of
maroon-colored velvet, ornamented with gold stripes and the most
delicate embroidery, and a velvet cap of the same color, with two
ostrich feathers, fastened by a golden brooch. The whole dress fitted so
well, and the embroidery was so good, that I thought Mr. Lambert must
have taken the prince’s measure with him to Paris, and that the clothes
had been made there; but this was not the case. Every thing, with the
exception of the material, had been prepared at Tananariva--a proof
that, if the people of Madagascar are deficient in invention, they are
exceedingly clever in imitating models set before them.

This group of dancers appeared with much more effect than their
predecessors, for all the ladies and gentlemen were much more tastefully
attired than the rest of the company. They only performed European
dances.

The ball was concluded, as it had been begun, by the female court
dancers.

The whole of these festivities, which occupied three hours, had not put
the queen to the slightest expense. The court-yard was the
dancing-floor, the sun provided the illumination, and every guest was at
liberty to take what refreshment he chose--_when he got home_. Happy
queen! how sincerely many of our European ball-givers might envy her!

June 10. Again there was noise and singing in the streets. I hurried to
the gate, and saw long files of men carrying earth and stones in
baskets. The labor of these people, eight hundred in number, had been
granted by the queen to the commander-in-chief of the army to build him
a house. They received neither wages nor food, and were obliged to sing
and shout, to prove to the queen that they were happy, and contented
with their lot.

A few days before I had seen similar processions still more numerous,
consisting of fifteen hundred men; they were carrying fuel to the royal
forge, in which a thousand workmen are employed in manufacturing all
kinds of weapons, under the superintendence of Mr. Laborde. Like the
coal-bearers, the smiths receive nothing at all for their labor; and not
only does the queen require all kinds of work from her subjects without
paying them, but when there is any government expense to be incurred
they have to find the money. Thus, in the year 1845, when the queen
imported 30,000 muskets from France at a cost of 145,000 dollars, the
whole sum was raised among the people. A few of the richest had to give
as much as 500 dollars each; but even the poorest had to contribute, and
not even the slaves were excepted.

June 11. Last night I heard a slight noise and muffled footsteps in our
house. I knew that the conspirators were to go from here during the
night to the palace. I listened for many hours--all was silent as the
grave; but suddenly there resounded a loud barking of dogs, followed by
quick footsteps of men. I started involuntarily. I thought that the
attempt must have failed, and that the hurrying steps were those of
fugitives, and I felt how much more trying it is to be obliged to remain
in passive suspense amid threatened danger than boldly to oppose and
combat the peril.

I would not leave my room, lest I should betray my weakness if it proved
to be a false alarm; so I avoided waking my companions, and awaited
patiently what Heaven should send. But nothing farther occurred; the
remainder of the night passed quietly, and next morning I learned that
nothing had been undertaken, and that the favorable moment was not yet
come.

I begin to fear that every thing will be spoiled by this long delay; the
more so, as the meetings are not very cautiously conducted, and a
traitor might easily be found among the nobles and officers apparently
devoted to the prince. A good deal of the fault may lie with the prince
himself. He is, as I have observed, a man of many good and noble
qualities, but he wants decision and firmness of purpose; and his
affection for the queen is, moreover, so great, that he might lack
courage at the decisive moment to undertake any thing against her. It
behooves him, however, to consider that there is no intention of robbing
the queen of her titles, her freedom, or her wealth; the sole object of
the movement being to take from her the power of perpetrating the
cruelties and deeds of blood which have brought her subjects to misery
and despair. The prince, who loves his mother above every thing, and
only seeks to prevent her from being the scourge of a whole country, can
not certainly be considered guilty of a crime. God strengthen him, and
give him courage to be the deliverer of his people!

June 12. Mr. Lambert had so severe an attack of fever that for several
days his life was in the greatest danger. But he terribly neglected all
dietary precautions. As soon as he felt himself at all better, he ate
all kind of things one after another, just as the whim took him--cold
Strasburg pie, meat, and fruit, and drank Champagne and other wines. The
other Europeans do just the same thing, so that I should not at all
wonder if all who caught the fever fell victims to it. While I was in
the Mauritius in the month of March, a stout gentleman from Tamatavé
arrived there, and remained a few days in Mr. Lambert’s house, waiting
for an opportunity to get to Bourbon. This gentleman asserted that he
had the Madagascar fever, and when he appeared at breakfast complained
that he had been suffering from it all night. Accordingly, some strong
meat broth was prepared for him, which he enjoyed exceedingly; but it
did not nearly satisfy him, for he ate in addition a mighty slice of
sweet melon, partook of the other dishes to an extent which would have
served me for a week, and finished his repast with a mango. He did equal
justice to the various beverages; and at the evening meal he returned to
the attack with renewed vigor, eating as if he had fasted the whole day.

In Tananariva I had frequent opportunities of noticing similar
imprudences in diet; and when I made any remark, I was met with the
profound reply, “What would you have? It is the custom of the country;
the people say that the fever is very weakening, and that one must try
to get up one’s strength by taking nourishing things.”

This belief really prevails among the people; the worse a man is, the
more he is urged to eat. When a Malagasey is at the last gasp, they
stuff rice into his mouth; and when he dies, they cry out in
astonishment, “How wonderful! only just now he was eating!”

And because the stupid, uncultivated natives do this, the sensible and
educated Europeans think it right to do likewise!

June 18. To-day I had the great honor of displaying my skill, or rather
my want of skill, on the piano in the presence of the queen. Mr. Lambert
had made her a present of a piano from the manufactory of Mr. Debain, in
Paris, on his first visit to Tananariva. These pianos are not only made
for playing upon with the hands, but can also be played in the manner of
a barrel-organ by turning a handle or “manivelle.”

Mr. Lambert had told me of this when we were in the Mauritius, and added
that the queen had never seen any one play the piano with their hands,
and that it would be a great surprise to her. In my youth I had been a
tolerably accomplished pianist, but that is a long time ago; for more
than thirty years I had given up music, and had nearly forgotten all I
once knew. Who would ever have thought that I should have to give a
concert, under royal patronage, in my sixtieth year, when I strummed
worse than many children at home who have only learned for a few months!
But so it is when people go out in quest of adventure, and roam through
the wide world; one never knows what may happen, and must be prepared
for every thing.

With great difficulty I forced my stiff old fingers through a few scales
and exercises, and contrived to remember a few easy, melodious waltzes
and dance tunes; and, thus prepared, I ventured to risk the criticism of
the strict royal connoisseur of Madagascar.

The invitation, however, was very welcome to me; for I hoped to be
introduced into the inner apartments of the palace, and to have the high
felicity of obtaining a near view of her majesty.

As Mr. Lambert was ill of the fever, the two clerical gentlemen
accompanied me to the palace. When we got to the court-yard--oh, sad
disenchantment!--there sat the queen on the eternal balcony, and away
fled all my hopes of seeing the interior of the palace. Besides, what a
shock to my artistic pride! It seemed that I was to be treated like a
street musician, and made to play here in the court-yard.

But it was not quite so bad as that, though enough was done to make me
duly sensible of the enormous difference between my insignificant person
and the mighty queen. This overbearing, puffed-up woman seems really to
believe herself a sacred being, raised above all the rest of the human
race, and appears to think it would derogate from her dignity to permit
a stranger to come close to her. It was only with Mr. Lambert, when he
first came to Tananariva, three years ago, that she made an exception,
admitting him not merely into the interior of the palace, but even
allowing him the honor of accompanying her on a short excursion.

We were conducted to the gallery on the ground floor of the Silver
Palace, where chairs had been already placed for us. The broad door
leading to the court-yard was thrown quite open, the piano brought
forward, and placed just in the doorway, in such a manner that the queen
could look down from her balcony upon the key-board.

While these preparations were being made, I had an opportunity of
examining the reception-room of the Silver Palace, which, as my readers
will remember, belongs to Prince Rakoto. It is spacious and lofty, and
furnished quite in European style. The furniture seemed rich, but not
overladen with ornament, and had been arranged with taste. True to the
custom of Madagascar, there stood a bed in the room--a right royal bed,
certainly, with no lack of gold ornament or of silken hangings, and in
which I was assured no mortal had ever slept; but still it was a bed,
and that particular piece of furniture in a reception-room always
disturbs the idea of fitness in the eyes of a European.

Far more, however, was my taste offended by the drawings and paintings
that decorated the walls of the hall--productions of native
genius--representing officers in red uniforms, and female figures in
European costumes. I hardly knew which to admire most in these sketches,
the coloring or the drawing. The latter was more wooden and stiff in
character than the worst Chinese work of the kind, and the coloring was
a wonderful chaos of the most glaring hues daubed together without any
attempt at light and shade. I had never in my life seen such works of
Art. The landscape backgrounds had the most comical effect of all. The
figures stood with little trees on each side of them. They were only
half-length portraits; but as the genial artist wished, nevertheless, to
indicate the fact that the trees grew out of the earth, he had drawn a
green stripe from the girdle of each person to that of his neighbor,
intending thereby to represent the earth, thus unintentionally giving
his heroes the unusual appearance of being buried up to the waist; out
of the green stripe rose a brown line, the stem of the tree, straight as
an arrow, as high as the shoulders of the figures, and a few green
patches were added to represent the leafy crown.

I was still absorbed in the contemplation of these masterpieces when one
of the missionaries came to inform me that the piano was ready, and that
I could begin my performance. Before doing this I had to present the
usual “monosina” to the queen, and deliver it into the hands of an
officer; this tribute is demanded of every stranger, not only at his
first introduction at court, but every time he sets foot in a building
belonging to royalty. This was my case in the Silver Palace; but I
considered it unnecessary to give a fifty-franc piece, as Mr. Lambert
had done, and therefore confined my liberality to the offer of a dollar.

I took my seat at the piano, and played a few preliminary chords to test
the qualities of the instrument; but what was my horror on finding it so
woefully out of tune that not a single note produced any thing like
harmony with the rest; many of the keys, moreover, were so obstinate as
to refuse to emit any sound whatever. I had to loosen them, lift them,
press them down, and resort to all sorts of expedients to bring them
into working order; and upon such an instrument as this I was to give my
grand concert! But true artistic greatness rises superior to all adverse
circumstances; and, inspired by the thought of exhibiting my talents to
such an appreciating audience, I perpetrated the most wonderful runs
over the whole key-board, thumped with all my might on the stubborn
keys, and, without any attempt at selection or sequence, played the
first part of a waltz and the second of a march, in short, any thing and
every thing that came into my head. But I had the great satisfaction to
find that my talents were fully appreciated by the whole audience, and I
was rewarded with her majesty’s especial thanks. Prince Rakoto even gave
me the flattering assurance that every thing I had done had met with the
queen’s approbation, especially the waltzes, and that in a short time
she would do me the honor of letting me play before her in the interior
of the palace. Who knows, if the unhappy conspiracy had not occurred, if
I might not have enjoyed the distinction of becoming pianiste to her
majesty the Queen of Madagascar!

On the same day she sent me, as a proof of favor and condescension, a
large quantity of fat poultry and a great basket of eggs.

On the 17th of June the exalted lady made an excursion to one of her
pleasure palaces, situate at the foot of the hill on an island in the
middle of a large pond. Whenever the queen makes such excursions, all
the officers and nobles, and the European residents in Tananariva, have
to accompany her. I would gladly have taken part in this expedition, but
as the queen knew that Mr. Lambert was still lying very ill, and did not
wish to deprive him of any of his nurses, none of us were invited. The
procession passed close by our house, and we were all, with the
exception of Mr. Lambert, made to stand at the gate to salute her
majesty as she passed.

Every festival in this country bears on its face a peculiar stamp of
whim and folly: in these excursions, for instance, the notables who
accompany the queen are ordered to appear in Turkish or Arab costume,
with turbans on their heads. These dresses, however, suit the natives
much better than the Spanish costume, although here, too, their peculiar
taste is brought into play, to spoil the effect of what would be
handsome enough if left alone.

Women seldom take part in these expeditions, and when they do they are
wrapped in simbus. The queen herself wore a large simbu of silk, but had
her great crown on her head. Without this regal ornament she never shows
herself to her subjects; and I should really not be surprised to hear
that she usually wears a small crown when she goes to sleep at night.

She remained all day in her little palace, and did not return to the
city till just before sunset. The people take part in these excursions
to some extent, being obliged to crowd into the streets through which
the procession passes, and many who wish to show peculiar loyalty join
the train.




CHAPTER XV.

     Failure of the _Coup d’État_.--Prince Ramboasalama.--The _Pas de
     Deux_.--Discovery of the Plot.--Death of Prince
     Razakaratrino.--Freedom of Manners.--Irreligion.--Beginning of our
     Captivity.--A Kabar.--Persecution of the Christians.--The Delivery
     of the Presents.


June 20. This was at length to be the great and decisive day. Mr.
Lambert was nearly recovered from the fever; so there was to be no more
delay, and to-night the long-contemplated _coup d’état_ was to be
carried out.

The two missionaries, who were not to appear to bear any part in these
political disturbances, went in the morning to one of the possessions of
Mr. Laborde, distant thirty miles from the capital. It was proposed to
send me there too; but I preferred remaining at Tananariva; for I
thought, if the attempt should fail, it would not be difficult to find
my head, even if I were a hundred miles from the capital.

The following plan had been devised by the conspirators. The prince was
to dine at eight o’clock in the evening with Mr. Lambert, Marius,
Laborde, and his son, in the garden-house belonging to the latter, and
thither all reports from the other conspirators were to be carried, that
it might be known if every thing was progressing favorably, and that
every man was at his post. At the conclusion of the dinner, at eleven
o’clock at night, the gentlemen were to march home to the upper part of
the town, accompanied by music, as if they came from a feast; and each
man was to remain quiet in his own house until two o’clock. At the
latter hour all the conspirators were to slip silently into the palace,
the gates of which Prince Raharo, the chief of the army, was to keep
open, and guarded by officers devoted to Prince Rakoto; they were to
assemble in the great court-yard, in front of the apartments inhabited
by the queen, and at a given signal loudly to proclaim Prince Rakoto
king. The new ministers, who had already been nominated by the prince,
were to explain to the queen that this was the will of the nobles, the
military, and the people; and, at the same time, the thunder of cannon
from the royal palace was to announce to the people the change in the
government, and the deliverance from the sanguinary rule of Queen
Ranavola.

Unhappily, this plan was not carried out. It was frustrated by the
cowardice or treachery of Prince Raharo, the commander-in-chief of the
army. While the gentlemen were still at table, they received from him
the disastrous news that, in consequence of unforeseen obstacles, he had
found it impossible to fill the palace exclusively with officers devoted
to the prince’s interest, that he would consequently be unable to keep
the gates open to-night, and that the attempt must be deferred for a
more favorable opportunity. In vain did the prince send messenger after
messenger to him. He could not be induced to risk any thing.

In the year 1856 Prince Rakoto had placed himself at the head of a
similar conspiracy against the queen. Then also the night and the hour
had been fixed upon for the attempt, and, as in the present
instance, every thing failed through the sudden defection of the
commander-in-chief. It may be that this occurred partly through that
personage losing courage at the decisive moment; but I am more inclined
to think that his participation in the plot must be a feigned one, and
that he is in reality a creature of the queen and her prime minister,
Rainizahoro; and, I fear most of all, that he is a partisan of Prince
Ramboasalama.

This prince, a son of a sister of Queen Ranavola, was adopted by the
queen many years ago, when she had no son of her own, and, owing to her
time of life, could scarcely hope to have any offspring. So she looked
upon the prince as her natural successor, and declared him her heir
with all the usual formalities. Soon afterward she had hopes of becoming
a mother, and Prince Rakoto was born. It is asserted by many that
though, in consequence of this event, she removed Ramboasalama from the
succession, and declared her own son to be the heir-apparent, this was
not done with the usual ceremonies, and it is much to be feared that
upon the queen’s decease great and bloody dissensions may arise between
the parties of the rival princes, and the faction of Ramboasalama may
obtain the mastery. This prince, several years older than Rakoto, is
naturally far more experienced than the latter; he has also the
reputation of being very astute and enterprising; and, though not so
good-natured and philanthropic as the queen’s son, he is far less cruel
and bloodthirsty than Ranavola.

So far as I could judge from what was told me, he appears to have formed
a powerful party for himself, and to have secured the greater portion of
the nobility, chiefly through great concessions, and from the fact that
he is entirely averse to the abolition of slavery, while, on the other
hand, Prince Rakoto means to carry out this measure, and wishes in
general to curtail the privileges of the higher classes.

These reasons ought in themselves to be sufficient to induce one of the
European powers to take Prince Rakoto’s part; but European governments
only take up cases in which they have the prospect of some immediate and
material advantage--to act from mere philanthropy forms no part of their
plans.

The plot has unfortunately become what may be called a “well-known
secret.” Every body knows of it, and even among the people reports of
the contemplated change in the government have become rife; and it is
only the queen, we have been assured, who is in profound ignorance of
what is going on around her. I can not believe this. We are certainly
told that no one would venture to accuse the prince to his mother, for
in such a case the queen would surely at once summon her son and make
him acquainted with the charges against him, when it might be
anticipated that he would deny every thing, and the denouncer would be
considered as a traitor, and executed accordingly. I can not believe
that the adherents and favorites of the queen have entirely left out the
prince’s name, and merely have denounced Mr. Lambert, Mr. Laborde, and a
few of the other conspirators. Of adherents and favorites the queen has
plenty, in spite of her cruelty and egotism; and she knows how to attach
the most influential men in the land to her person, though they do not
receive the smallest salary from her; but she gratifies them with
estates and slaves, or gives them a still more valuable reward, by
assigning to them, under the name of aids-de-camp, a number of people
who are obliged to do them service like slaves, receiving neither
provisions nor wages in return. Thus Raharo, the present
commander-in-chief of the army, has eight hundred of these aids-de-camp
continually under his command; his father, who preceded him as
commander-in-chief, had fifteen hundred.

June 21. To-day Prince Rakoto told us that his mother would receive Mr.
Lambert as soon as his health was restored, and me too, in the inner
palace, and that she wished very much to see us dance together. He added
that it would give her great pleasure to see us exhibit some new dance,
and that, as Europeans, we were doubtless acquainted with several. A
strange idea this! First I had to give a concert, and now I am to turn
ballet-dancer, and perhaps afterward dancing-mistress--I who, even in my
youth, cared very little for dancing, and always had the greatest
difficulty in remembering the various steps and figures. And Mr.
Lambert! What a thing to expect from a man who is still young, that he
should execute a _pas de deux_ with a woman nearly sixty years old!
Neither of us had the slightest intention to gratify this ridiculous
whim; and as Mr. Lambert suffered much again this morning from the
fever, and I also had a renewed attack of that insidious disease, we
made our illness serve as an excuse for the present.

June 22. To-day we received very bad news: the queen has received
information of the plot. Our friends told us, however, that efforts were
being made to divert her suspicions from the right direction, and to
make her believe that the people wished for a change in the government.
It is said that no names have been denounced to her, but that the wish
is represented as having been generally expressed among the people.

Our friends may try to screen us, but our enemies, of whom Mr. Lambert,
as I have already remarked, has several, will not be so considerate; and
it is unfortunately certain that the queen has for some time looked upon
Mr. Lambert with suspicion, for to-day she told her son that when Mr.
Lambert lay dangerously ill of the fever, she had consulted the oracle
upon the question whether he had any evil design against her, and if so,
whether he would die of the fever. The reply of the Sikidy was, that “if
Mr. Lambert had any such evil design, the fever would assuredly carry
him off:” as this had not been the case--as he had not died, she thought
he could not be plotting any evil against her.

Is this the truth, or does the cunning woman only say it in the hope of
worming something out of the prince himself? Even if it is the truth,
can she not consult the Sikidy over and over again, until, some fine
day, it may give a different answer?

At any rate, I consider our cause is lost; and Heaven knows what the
queen may intend to do to us. These are the consequences of the prince’s
delays and irresolution. But who knows? Several times the thought has
arisen in my mind, chiefly from the demeanor of Prince Raharo, that the
prince is surrounded by traitors, who pretend to acquiesce in his
projects, but only do so to obtain a knowledge of them, and afterward
carry intelligence to the queen. Perhaps in this view they treat him
like a child, and let him have his hobby, always, however, taking the
necessary precautions to be able to stop his highness’s sport before
things go too far.

June 27. Last night died Marshal Prince Razakaratrino, the queen’s
brother-in-law. The death of this grand lord will give me an opportunity
of seeing a new and interesting sight, for the funeral of such an
exalted personage is conducted in Madagascar with the greatest
solemnity. After the body has been washed, it is wrapped in simbus of
red silk, often to the number of several hundred, and none of which must
cost less than ten piastres, though they generally cost much more. Thus
enshrouded, the corpse is placed in a kind of coffin, and lies in state
in the principal apartment in the house, under a canopy of red silk.
Slaves crouch around it, crowded together as closely as possible, with
their hair hanging loose, and their heads bent down in token of
mourning; each of them is furnished with a kind of fan to keep off the
flies and musquitoes from the deceased. This strange occupation is
continued day and night; and as high personages are frequently kept
unburied for several weeks, the slaves have to be continually relieved
by others.

During the time the corpse is lying under the canopy, envoys come from
every caste of the nobility and from every district of the country,
accompanied by long trains of servants and slaves, to present tokens of
condolence for themselves, and in the names of those by whom they are
sent. Each of the envoys brings an offering of money, varying according
to his own fortune, and the amount of popularity enjoyed by the
deceased, from half a dollar to fifty or more. These presents are
received by the nearest relation of the dead man, and are devoted to
defraying the expenses of the burial, which often come to a great sum;
for, besides the large number of simbus to be purchased, a great many
oxen must be killed. All visitors and envoys stay until the day of the
funeral, and are entertained, as well as their servants and slaves, at
the expense of the heirs. When the funeral ceremonies extend over
several weeks, and the number of the guests is large, it may be easily
imagined that a goodly stock of provisions is consumed, especially as
the people of Madagascar, masters and servants, are valiant trenchermen
when they feed at the cost of another. Thus, at the death of the last
commander of the army, the father of Prince Raharo, no fewer than 1500
oxen were slaughtered and eaten. But then this man had stood very high
in the queen’s favor, and his funeral is recorded as the most splendid
in the memory of man: he lay in state for three weeks, and young and old
streamed in from the farthest corners of the kingdom to pay him the last
honors.

With regard to the performances of the people of Madagascar as
trenchermen, I have been told that four natives can eat up an ox in a
space of twenty-four hours, and that after such a meal they go away as
comfortable and light as if they had barely satisfied their hunger. I
should be sorry, however, to vouch for the authenticity of this report
to my readers. I have never witnessed such a feat; and, looking at the
size of the oxen that are sacrificed upon such occasions, I should say
that the estimate was undoubtedly exaggerated.

Voracious as the natives are (I can use no milder epithet) when an
opportunity for gluttony occurs, they have, on the other hand, like the
wild Indians, the power of enduring great privation with consummate
patience, and will support themselves for weeks together on a little
rice and a few thin slices of dried meat.

When the corpse is carried out of the house, a few slaughtered oxen must
be laid at the door, and the bearers have to step over their bodies.

The period of lying in state, and of mourning generally, is fixed by the
queen herself; for this marshal the former ceremony was fixed for four
days, the latter for ten. If he had been a near relation of the queen--a
brother or uncle--or one of her particular favorites, he could not have
been buried under from ten to fourteen days, and the period of mourning
would have extended to twenty or thirty days at least.

The body is prevented from becoming offensive by the number of simbus in
which it is wrapped.

We did not follow the funeral procession, but saw it pass from Mr.
Laborde’s house; its extent was very great, and it consisted of nobles,
officers, women, mourning women, and slaves, in large numbers. From the
highest to the lowest, all wore their hair loose as a token of mourning;
and with this loosened hair they looked so particularly hideous--so
horribly ugly--that I had never seen any thing like them among the
ugliest races of India and America. The women especially, who let their
hair grow longer than the men wear it, might indeed have passed for
scarecrows or furies.

In the midst of the procession came the catafalque, borne by more than
thirty men. Like the costumes at the court balls, so this catafalque had
evidently been copied from some engraving, for its ornamentation was
quite European in character, with this one difference, that the machine
was hung with red and variegated silk stuffs instead of the customary
black cloth. The marshal’s hat, with other insignia of rank and honor,
were placed upon it, and on both sides marched slaves, with clappers to
scare away the flies from the catafalque.

The corpse was conveyed thirty miles away to an estate of the deceased,
to be burned there; the greater number of nobles and officers only
escorted it for the first few miles, but many carried their politeness
so far as to go the whole distance.

In all Madagascar there is no place exclusively set apart for the burial
of the dead. Those who possess land are buried on their own estates; the
poor are carried to some place that belongs to nobody, and are there
frequently thrown under a bush, or put into any hollow, no one taking
the trouble even to throw a little earth upon them.

When I saw this funeral conducted in such truly European style, I
thought, as I had frequently done before, what a strange country this
Madagascar was, and what striking contrasts were found among these
people--cultivation and savagery, imitation of European manners and
customs and the rudest barbarism go here hand in hand. One finds here,
as in Europe, all the titles of rank and nobility, from the prince down
to the lieutenant: many of the nobles often go about in European garb;
many speak and write English or French, and the rich dine off plate, and
possess handsome, well-furnished houses. Farther imitations of our
European customs are seen in the etiquette with which the queen
surrounds her own person, the ceremonious splendor she seeks to impart
to her court, the solemn excursions to her pleasure palaces, the fancy
balls, the great dinners, the funerals of high personages, and other
occasions of the kind.

The industrial education of the people has also made great progress in
certain districts; and it is easy to see that, if properly cultivated
and directed, industrial arts would soon attain a higher development.
Thus, as already stated, the goldsmiths and silversmiths furnish
specimens that excite my unqualified admiration; the women silk-weavers
make very pretty pieces from native silk; and Mr. Laborde turns out from
his various factories of native workmen all kinds of weapons, even to
small cannon, and powder, as well as glass, soap, wax-lights, rum, and
the most delicious liqueurs.

With respect to the cultivation of the mind and heart, the inhabitants
of Madagascar have not sought to imitate the Europeans. In this
particular, indeed, many of the wildest tribes, who have scarcely come
into communication with Europeans at all--for instance, the Dyaks of
Borneo; the Afoxes, in the island of Celebes; the Anthropophagi, in the
interior of Sumatra, and others--stand far above the Hovas and
Malagaseys. Incredible as it may appear, the latter have no religion at
all--not the slightest idea of a God, of the immortality of the soul, or
even of its existence. The queen, I was told, certainly worships a few
household idols, but she places far less reliance on these than on the
verdicts of the Sikidy; and when a missionary once spoke to her of the
immortality of the soul, she is said to have considered him mad, and to
have laughed aloud in his face. The people are allowed to worship any
thing they like--a tree, a river, or a rock--but belief in Christ is
strictly forbidden. With the exception of the few who have become
converted to the Christian faith in spite of the queen’s prohibition,
the bulk of the people believe in nothing at all, at which I wondered
the more when I considered that some of the races living in Madagascar
are descended from the Arabs and Malays, nations who in the earliest
times had some ideas of God and of religion.

Oh, how much it is to be wished that the government should pass into
Prince Rakoto’s hands! I am certain that this beautiful country would
then make the most rapid strides in intellectual progress and in
material wealth.

June 30. When I was traveling in the United States, I thought I had
found the country where women had the greatest freedom, and the greatest
independence of thought and action. What an error! Here, in Madagascar,
they lead a much more independent, unrestrained life. I do not speak of
Queen Ranavola, whose rank gives her a kind of right to follow only the
dictates of her will, but of the other women, who are not subjected to
the laws of propriety which trammel us poor European females. Thus, for
instance, Mary, the favorite of Prince Rakoto, came very frequently,
with his full knowledge, quite alone to our house, not only to pay a
visit to Mr. Lambert while he was ill with the fever, but when he was in
perfect health. She had often partaken of our evening repast, and to-day
she joined us again. While we were sitting at table they brought her
little son. I had never seen her in a domestic circle with her child,
and was anxious to see how her feelings would be displayed, so I noticed
the mother and child during the whole evening. Each treated the other as
coldly as if they had never known, much less belonged to, each other.
When the child came into the room he did not even greet his mother, but
went at once toward the table, where room was made for him at Mr.
Lambert’s side; during the whole of supper-time, mother and child never
exchanged a word or a glance, although they were only separated from
each other by Mr. Lambert.

In vain do Mr. Laborde and other Europeans in Madagascar assure me that
strong affection exists here among the natives between parents and
children, but that it is not customary to display that affection. I can
not believe it, with such a display of indifference before my eyes. A
mother who felt real affection toward her child would certainly not be
able to conform to custom so completely as to prevent herself from
giving the little one a loving glance from time to time. And the
observations I made this evening were not the only ones of the same
kind; during the whole period of my stay in Madagascar I did not see a
mother show any affection, or child that seemed to love its parents.

July 2. What will become of us! The carrying out of the design seems to
have become impracticable, for from the day when the commander refused
to open the doors of the palace, one after another of the conspirators
has fallen away, and traitors and spies surround us on all sides. Ever
since the 20th of June hardly any one associates with us; we are looked
upon partly as state prisoners, and we are compelled to remain the whole
day long in our houses, and dare not so much as set foot across the
threshold.

The best proof that the queen is perfectly well informed of the
conspiracy, and only pretends to know nothing about it for the sake of
her son, of whom she is very fond, appears in the fact of her having, a
few days since, forbidden every one, on pain of death, to make any
accusation whatever against the prince, or to impart any surmise of his
guilt to her.

This trait is worthy of the cunning characteristic of her race. Having
taken all necessary measures, and convinced herself that the power of
the conspirators is broken, and that she has nothing to fear, she seeks
to hide her son’s fault from the people.

July 3. To-day sorrow and fear have been spread over all the city. Early
in the morning the people were called together, and ordered to betake
themselves at a certain hour to the bazar, to be present at a great
kabar to be held there. Such an announcement always spreads terror and
apprehension among the people, for they know from sad experience that a
kabar signifies, for them, persecution, and torture, and sentences of
death. There was a general howling and wailing, a rushing and running
through the streets, as if the town had been attacked by a hostile army,
and, as if to strengthen that belief, all entrances to the town were
occupied by troops, and the poor people were torn forcibly from their
houses by the soldiers, and driven to the market-place.

We Europeans, shut up in our house, saw very little of these scenes,
with the exception of Mr. Laborde, who, thanks to his great popularity,
could still venture abroad to pursue his usual avocations. Full of
anxious expectation, we awaited his return; he came home pale and
excited, and told us that the present kabar was the most cruel and
disastrous that had been held since his arrival at Tananariva. The
majority of the inhabitants--men, women, and children--had been
assembled in the great square, and there waited in trembling fear to
hear the royal will, which one of the officials announced in a loud
voice.

The kabar was as follows: The queen had long suspected that there were
many Christians among her people. Within the last few days she had
become certain of the fact, and had heard with horror that several
thousands of this sect dwelt in and around Tananariva. Every one knew
how much she hated and detested this sect, and how strictly she had
forbidden the practice of their religion. As her commands were so little
regarded, she should use every effort to discover the guilty, and should
punish them with the greatest severity. The duration of the kabar was
fixed for fifteen days, and it was announced to the people, in
conclusion, that those who gave themselves up during that period should
have their lives spared, but that all who were denounced by others might
be prepared to die a terrible death.

I can hardly believe that, after the experience the people had had this
very year, any of them will voluntarily surrender. My readers will
recollect a similar case I mentioned among the cruelties of the queen,
in which the unhappy culprits who confessed their crime had their lives
spared, according to the letter of the promise, but were fettered
heavily and perished miserably; and then the accusation was only one of
sorcery, theft, violation of graves, and other crimes, which are in the
queen’s eyes of far less consequence than that of conversion to the
Christian faith. The followers of the Christian religion might expect to
have far worse tortures practiced on them.

Who would believe that the traitor, the denouncer of the Christians, was
a Christian himself, and half a priest into the bargain, whom the
English missionaries had honored with the title “Reverendissimus!” The
name of this miserable creature is Ratsimandisa. He belongs to the race
of the Hovas, and is a native of Tananariva, and has had a semi-European
education, which unfortunately had no effect in ennobling his mind or
his heart. In order to win the favor of the queen, and hoping to obtain
a great reward, he declared that he only pretended to adopt the
Christian religion with the view of getting a knowledge of all the
Christians, and thus giving the queen an opportunity of annihilating
them at one blow. He had really made out a complete register of the
names of Christians residing in Tananariva. Fortunately, it did not
occur to him to request an audience of the queen, and to give this
register into her own hands. He gave it to one of the ministers who
belonged to Prince Rakoto’s party, and was one of the prince’s most
faithful followers. This man would not deliver a document of such
importance to the queen without first telling the prince of the
circumstance. No sooner had the latter read the document than he tore it
in pieces, and announced that any one who dared to make out a second
list, or even to accept one with the intention of laying it before the
government, should be immediately put to death. This action certainly
saved the lives of some thousands of Christians; they gained time, and
had an opportunity of escaping, of which the majority have availed
themselves. But in the wild, inhospitable forests, where alone they can
hide themselves, without a roof to shelter them, without food to eat,
how many of these poor people must fall victims to hunger and misery!

To increase their misfortune, an English missionary, Mr. Lebrun, had
come from the Mauritius to Tamatavé for a few days, shortly before
Ratsimandisa’s treason, and had written letters from Tamatavé to several
Christians in Tananariva, exhorting them to be firm in their faith, and
seeking to strengthen their courage with the assurance that the day of
persecution would not last much longer, and that better times would soon
come for them. The poorer among them also received promises of aid, and
some money was, it is said, distributed among them. Unhappily, a few of
these letters fell into the hands of the government, and others were
found during the search instituted in the houses of those suspected of
Christianity; and as the names of several Christians were mentioned in
these letters, to whom the missionary sent messages or greeting through
the recipients, these at least could be seized. The unhappy people were
tortured in all kinds of ways, like the Protestants of Spain in the days
of the Inquisition, to induce them to give up the names of the
Christians they knew, and the government succeeded in capturing a
tolerable number in the first few days.

July 4. Mr. Lambert had a relapse of the fever, and, indeed, such a
severe one that we are very anxious about his life. My health, too, is
not satisfactory. I have not such violent attacks of the fever as those
from which Mr. Lambert suffers, but I can not get rid of the disease,
and my strength becomes less from day to day.

July 6. More than two hundred Christians are said to have been either
denounced or discovered in the few days that have elapsed since the
kabar was announced. They are being sought for every where. Every house
is entered--every one suspected of Christianity, be it man, woman, or
child, is seized by the soldiers, and dragged to one of the prisons.

Unless the fall of the government be speedily brought about, and this
Megæra deprived of her power before the expiration of the fifteen days
fixed as the duration of the kabar, there will be horrible deeds and
executions here. In spite of all the untoward events that have happened,
Messrs. Lambert and Laborde do not appear to have given up all hope, and
consider the contemplated _coup d’état_ as still practicable. I hope
with all my heart it may be so--less, I can solemnly assert, because my
own life is involved in the question, than for the sake of my numerous
brethren in the faith, and for the whole people, who would awake to a
new life under the mild rule of Prince Rakoto. But, alas! I can not
participate in the hopes of my companions. As things now stand, I can
not see the slightest prospect of success. The commander-in-chief of the
army is not to be induced to act; and it is probable that he never
intended to fulfill his promise of opening the gates of the palace to
the conspirators. The party against Prince Rakoto gains strength every
day, and there is not the slightest chance of a popular revolution. The
poor natives of Madagascar have been too much oppressed, and are too
submissive for that. They have such a wholesome terror of the power of
the queen, and the influence of the nobles and the military, that it
would be useless to try to persuade them to undertake any thing against
the existing powers.

July 7. The queen has been told that Mr. Lambert has had a dangerous
relapse of the fever, and she sends confidential officers five or six
times in the day--different envoys each time--to ask after his health.
The officers always ask to be taken into his room, and to see him;
probably they have been commissioned to find out if his illness is real
or simulated. How the queen would rejoice at Mr. Lambert’s death!

For the last three days Prince Rakoto has not been to see us; for his
mother, the queen, treats him almost as a prisoner. She will not let him
quit her side, alleging that she is in great danger and needs his
protection. Through this really politic course of action she gains the
twofold object of making her son appear, on the one hand, as a
non-participator in the conspiracy, and of taking from him, on the
other, all opportunity of entering into communication with his
confederates, who might, perhaps, induce him to strike a decisive blow.
She has taken farther precautions. The palace has been surrounded with
treble the usual number of guards. No one is allowed to pass near it,
and only those are admitted into the interior of whose fidelity and
loyalty the queen feels quite assured.

July 8. Our prison is closing more straitly around us, and our position
really begins to be very critical. We have just learned that, since
yesterday evening, every one has been prohibited, on pain of death, from
entering our house. Mr. Laborde now no longer ventures to appear in the
streets. I marvel much that our slaves are still allowed to go to the
bazar, and make the necessary purchases; but doubtless this will soon be
stopped; and I am much mistaken if the moment is not at hand when the
queen will throw off the mask, and, openly denouncing us as traitors,
cause our house to be surrounded by soldiers, and thus completely
isolate us. Nobody can tell what this woman purposes to do to us, and
her character gives us no reason to expect any thing good. If we are
once made prisoners, she can easily get rid of us by means of poisoned
food or by some other method.

Our slaves tell us that more than eight hundred soldiers are employed in
searching for Christians; they not only search the whole town, but scour
the country within a circuit of between twenty and thirty miles; but,
happily, it is said they do not take many prisoners. All flee to the
mountains and forests, and in such numbers that small detachments of
soldiers, who pursue the fugitives and seek to capture them, are put to
flight.

July 9. To-day we received fresh news of the persecution against the
Christians. The queen has heard that until now very few prisoners,
comparatively, have been brought in; she is stated to be extremely
enraged at this, and to have exclaimed in great anger that the bowels of
the earth must be searched, and the rivers and lakes dragged with nets,
so that not one of the traitors may escape his just punishment. These
inflated expressions, and the new and strict orders she has issued to
the officers and soldiers charged with the duty of pursuing the
Christians, have, however, I am thankful to say, had no great result.
Her majesty will doubtless be enraged when she hears that the
inhabitants of whole villages have succeeded in escaping from her
vengeance by flight. Thus it happened, a few days ago, in the village of
Ambohitra-Biby, nine miles from Tananariva, that when the soldiers
arrived they found nothing but the empty huts.

To-day at noon another great kabar was held in the market-place; the
queen caused it to be announced that all who helped the Christians in
their flight, who did not stop them, or sought to conceal them, should
suffer the punishment of death; but that those, on the contrary, who
brought them in, or hindered them in their flight, would gain the
especial favor of the queen, and in future, if they committed any
offense, should either be pardoned or subjected to a very mitigated
punishment.

A corps of soldiers one thousand five hundred strong was also dispatched
to-day to a large district, situate on the eastern coast. This extended
region is inhabited by Seklaves, and is only partly subject to the sway
of Queen Ranavola. In a village in the independent portion, five
Catholic missionaries have been living for the last three or four years,
and have established a little congregation. The queen is naturally much
enraged at this, the more so as, boasting that she was queen of the
whole island, she issued an edict some years ago to the effect that all
white men should be killed who landed in Madagascar, or made any stay in
a place where none of her Hova soldiers are stationed. In pursuance of
this law, she intends to have these missionaries captured and executed.

I hardly believe that the attachment of the Seklaves toward the
missionaries will be sufficiently strong to make them refuse to
surrender the latter, and expose themselves to a war against such a
powerful enemy as Queen Ranavola, and even if they risked it there would
not be the slightest prospect of a good result. Yet we cherish the hope
that before the troops can reach the spot the missionaries may have got
off safely, for Prince Rakoto has some time since sent a reliable
messenger to them to warn them of the impending danger.

Though Prince Rakoto is to all intents and purposes a prisoner, and
unable to visit us, a day seldom passes without our receiving news from
him, and he informs us of all the schemes of the queen and her ministers
against us. Like Mr. Laborde, the prince has confidential slaves. These
trusty servants on either side meet, apparently by chance, in the bazar
or elsewhere, and exchange intelligence. Thus he let us know to-day that
the queen had given orders to have our house searched on the morrow,
upon the pretext that it was generally asserted there were Christians
concealed therein, but in reality to obtain possession of our papers and
writings. Of course we immediately concealed these as well as we could.

We have also learned that the queen has in the last few days occupied
herself much about us, and has held long sittings with her ministers, in
which the question of our fate was discussed. If she had consulted only
her own fury, she would long ago have dispatched us into the next world;
but to kill six Europeans at once seems almost too bold a stroke; and
she is said to have told her prime minister, who voted for our death
from the first, that the only reason which deterred her from the measure
was the probability that such severity against persons of our importance
might induce the Europeans to wage war against her. Two fortunate
mistakes for us! The first, in her considering us to be important
personages; the second, that she should suppose the European powers
would take so much trouble in a matter involving only a few human lives
instead of more weighty interests. But, be this as it may, our lives are
certainly in great peril, for they are in the hands of a woman so
governed by her passions that she may at any moment cast aside all
considerations of prudence or policy. Even if our lives are spared, I
fear we shall undergo a long imprisonment; merely to banish us from the
country will not satisfy the queen, or she would have done it long ago.

July 10. To-day our gates were suddenly opened, and about a dozen
officers of high rank, with a large train, came into the court-yard. We
thought they were coming to make the search of which the prince had
warned us; but, to our great astonishment, they explained to Mr. Lambert
that they had been sent by the queen to receive the costly presents
which he had brought with him for her and her court.

Mr. Lambert at once had the chests brought out and unpacked; the
contents were placed, according to their various destinations, in great
baskets, which the slaves who accompanied the officers at once carried
off to the palace. A few of the officers went away with the bearers; the
others walked into our reception-room, conversed for a few moments with
Mr. Laborde and Mr. Lambert, and then very politely took their leave.

This was the first opportunity I had had of examining the splendid
presents Mr. Lambert had brought.

The dresses, of which he had provided a considerable number for the
queen, her sisters, and other female relatives, were really very
handsome. Mr. Lambert had procured them in Paris from the dress-maker
of the Empress of the French, and they were made according to the
empress’s own patterns. Some of these dresses had cost more than three
hundred dollars. To each were added the appropriate sash, ribbons, and
head-dress--in a word, every thing necessary to make the toilette
complete.

Thus bedizened, the fortunate ladies for whom these splendid garments
are intended will doubtless look still more ridiculous than those who
took part in the costume ball. I fancy I see them, with their clumsy
figures and duck-like walk, in these splendid low-necked dresses, with
long trains and short sleeves; and the delicate head-dresses--how
_piquant_ and charming!--stuck at the back of their woolly polls. Truly,
if Mr. Lambert had made up his mind thoroughly to expose the ugliness of
the female world of Madagascar, he could not have found any thing more
suited to his purpose than these handsome costumes.

Not less numerous and splendid were the presents brought for Prince
Rakoto. There were uniforms splendidly made, and as elaborately
ornamented with gold embroidery as those of the Emperor of the French
himself; private suits of the most various fabrics, forms, and colors;
embroidered cambric shirts, pocket-handkerchiefs, shoes of all kinds,
and every conceivable article of the toilet. A great deal of admiration,
and perhaps a little jealousy too, was excited among the officers by a
rich saddle-cloth, saddle, and bridle. The good people could not admire
it sufficiently; and in the reception-room one of them asked me if in
France the emperor was the only man who had such a saddle, or if the
officers had them too. I was wicked enough to reply that only the
emperor used such a handsome saddle, but that, when it became shabby, he
gave it to one of his favorites, and ordered a new one for himself.
Perhaps my querist may attach himself to the party of the prince in the
hope of gaining the confidence of his chief, and with it the reversion
of the saddle-cloth.




CHAPTER XVI.

     Banquets in Madagascar.--A Kabar at Court.--The Sentence.--Our
     Banishment.--Departure from Tananariva.--Military
     Escort.--Observations on the People.--Arrival in
     Tamatavé.--Departure from Madagascar.--A false Alarm.--Arrival in
     the Mauritius.--Conclusion.


July 11. Yesterday evening an old woman was denounced to the authorities
as a Christian. She was seized immediately, and this morning--my pen
almost refuses to record the cruel torture to which the unhappy creature
was subjected--they dragged her to the market-place, and her backbone
was sawn asunder.

But a thousand horrors like these will not move the powers of Europe to
come to the rescue of this unhappy people. In one respect, civilized and
uncivilized governments are strangely alike; both are swayed only by
political considerations, and humanity does not enter into their
calculations.

July 12. This morning, I am sorry to say, six Christians were seized in
a hut at a village not far from the city. The soldiers had already
searched the hut, and were ready to depart, when one of them heard a
cough. A new search was at once begun, and in a great hole dug in the
earth, and covered over with straw, the poor victims were discovered.
What astonished me most in this episode was, that the other inhabitants
of the village, who were not Christians, did not betray the concealed
ones, although they must have had intelligence of the last kabar,
threatening death to all who kept Christians concealed, favored their
flight, or neglected to assist in their capture. I should not have
thought so much generosity existed among this people. Unfortunately, it
met with a bad reward. The commanding officer cared nothing for the
magnanimity of the action; he kept strictly to his instructions, and
caused not only the six Christians, but the whole population of the
village--men, women, and children--to be bound and dragged to the
capital.

I fear there will be horrible scenes of blood. The poor people may all
be executed, for it will be presumed that they were aware of their
neighbors’ hiding-place. From the queen they have certainly no mercy to
expect, for she has death-sentences carried out with the utmost rigor;
indeed, no instance is known in which she has pardoned any one condemned
to lose his life.

Prince Rakoto sent us word to-day that the queen intended giving a great
banquet to Mr. Lambert, to which all the other Europeans would of course
be invited. What is the meaning of this? For more than a week we have
been treated like state prisoners, and now all at once we are to have
this distinction! Are our prospects brightening, or is it a trap? I fear
the latter.

We were no ways rejoiced at this news, for even if the invitation does
not conceal some treacherous design, we have a drearily irksome ordeal
to go through. The more the queen wishes to honor the guest whom she
invites to a banquet, the more tremendous is the banquet placed before
him, and the greater is the number of hours he is compelled to pass at
table; for the duration of time is considered an element in the
distinction. When Mr. Lambert came to Tananariva for the first time, the
queen gave a banquet in honor of him. It consisted of several hundreds
of dishes, materials for which had been collected from every part of the
island. The rarest dainties (of course for Madagascar palates) were
served up, including land-and water-beetles, the latter being considered
particularly delicious; locusts, silk-worms, and other insects. The
banquet lasted more than twenty-four hours, during the greater part of
which period the assembled guests were employed in consuming the various
dainties. Of course Mr. Lambert could not remain so long at table, and,
with the queen’s permission, rose from time to time; but he was obliged
to remain present till all was over.

Even while we were on the best terms with the queen we had looked
forward to such an invitation with great apprehension; how much more
dismayed ought we not to feel under present circumstances, when this
banquet may prove our death-meal! But, if the queen chooses to show us
this honor, we must accept it, for if it has been settled that we are to
die, we have no chance of escaping our fate.

July 13. This woman is said never to have been seen in such continued
ill-humor, in such fits of rage, as she has exhibited for the last eight
or ten days. That augurs ill for us, but is far more unfortunate for the
poor Christians, whom she causes to be pursued with a more furious zeal
than she has shown since her accession. Almost every day kabars are held
in the bazars of the city and in those of the neighboring villages, in
which the people are exhorted to denounce the Christians; and they are
told the queen is certain that, all the misfortunes which have befallen
the country are solely attributable to this sect, and that she shall not
rest until the last Christian has been exterminated.

What an inestimable mercy was it for those poor persecuted people that
the register of their names fell into the hands of Prince Rakoto, who
destroyed it! had this not been the case, there would have been
executions without number. It is now hoped that, in spite of the queen’s
rage, and of all her commands and exhortations, not more than perhaps
forty or fifty victims will be sacrificed. Many of the great men of the
kingdom and many of the royal officials are Christians in secret, and
try to assist the escape of their brethren in every possible way. We
have been assured that, of the two hundred Christians who were captured
some days ago, and also among the villagers who were brought yesterday
to the city in a body, by far the greater number have escaped.

July 16. We have just received intelligence of a very great kabar held
yesterday in the queen’s palace. It lasted six hours, and the discussion
is reported to have been very stormy. This kabar concerned us Europeans,
and the question of our fate was debated. According to the usual way of
the world, nearly all our friends began to fall away from us from the
moment when they saw that our cause was lost; and, in order to divert
suspicion from themselves, the majority insisted more vehemently on our
condemnation than even our enemies. That we deserved to be punished with
death was soon unanimously resolved, but the method by which we were to
be dispatched to the next world gave rise to much discussion and debate.
Some voted for a public execution in the market-place, others for a
nocturnal attack on our house, and others, again, for an invitation to
the before-mentioned banquet, at which we were to be poisoned, or
murdered at a given signal.

The queen was undecided between these various proposals, but would
certainly have accepted one of them had not Prince Rakoto been our
protecting spirit. He spoke with the greatest energy against the
sentence of death, warned the queen not to let her anger lead her
astray, and expressed his conviction that the European powers would
certainly not allow the execution of six such important (?) persons as
we were to pass unpunished. The prince is said never to have spoken with
such warmth and energy to the queen as on this occasion.

We received all this intelligence partly, as I have stated, through
confidential slaves of the prince, partly from the few friends who,
contrary to expectation, have remained true to us.

July 17. Our captivity had already lasted thirteen long days--for
thirteen long days we had lived in the most trying suspense as to our
impending fate, expecting every moment to hear some fatal news, and
alarmed day and night at every slight noise. It was a terrible time.

This morning I was sitting at my writing-table; I had just put down my
pen, and was thinking that, after the last kabar, the queen must at
least have come to some decision, when suddenly I heard an unusual stir
in the court-yard. I was hastily quitting my room, the windows of which
were in the opposite direction, to see what was the matter, when Mr.
Laborde came to meet me with the announcement that a great kabar was
being held in the court-yard, and that we Europeans were summoned to be
present thereat.

We went accordingly, and found more than a hundred persons--judges,
nobles, and officers--sitting in a large half circle on benches and
chairs, and some on the ground; behind them stood a number of soldiers.
One of the officers received us, and made us sit down opposite the
judges. These judges were shrouded in long simbus; their glances rested
gloomily and gravely upon us, and for a considerable time there was deep
silence. I confess to having felt somewhat alarmed, and whispered to Mr.
Laborde, “I think our last hour has come!” His reply was, “I am prepared
for every thing.”

At length one of the ministers or judges rose, and in sepulchral tones,
embellished with a multitude of high-sounding epithets, he spoke
somewhat to the following effect, telling us:

“The people had heard that we were Republicans, and that we had come to
Madagascar with the intention of introducing a similar form of
government here; that we intended to overturn the throne of their
beloved ruler, to give the people equal rights with the nobility, and to
abolish slavery; also, that we had had several interviews with the
Christians, a sect equally obnoxious to the queen and the people, and
had exhorted them to hold fast to their faith, and to expect speedy
succor. These treasonable proceedings,” he continued, “had so greatly
exasperated the natives against us, that the queen had been compelled to
treat us as prisoners as a protection against the popular indignation.
The whole population of Tananariva was clamoring for our death; but as
the queen had never yet deprived a white person of life, she would
abstain in this instance also, though the crimes we had committed could
fully have justified her in such a course; in her magnanimity and mercy
she had accordingly decided to limit our punishment to perpetual
banishment from her territories.

“Mr. Lambert, Mr. Marius, the two other Europeans who lived at Mr.
Laborde’s, and myself, were accordingly to depart from the city within
an hour. Mr. Laborde might remain twenty-four hours longer; and, in
consideration of his former services, he was to be allowed to take away
all his property that was not fixed, with the exception of his slaves.
These, with his houses, estates, etc., were to revert to the queen, by
whose bounty they had been bestowed on him. With regard to his son,
inasmuch as the youth was a native by the mother’s side, and might be
supposed, on account of his tender years, to have taken no part in the
conspiracy, it should be optional with him either to remain in the
island or to quit it with us.

“The queen would allow us, and Mr. Laborde also, as many bearers as we
required to carry us and our property, and, as a measure of precaution,
she would cause us to be escorted by a company of soldiers, consisting
of fifty privates, twenty officers, and a commandant. Mr. Laborde would
have a similar escort, and was commanded to keep at least one day’s
journey in our rear.”

In spite of our critical position, we could hardly refrain from
laughing at this oration. All at once the people were made out to be
important--the poor people who were groaning in bondage like Russian
serfs or the slaves of the United States; now all at once we found the
poor people influencing the royal will, and invested with the right, not
only of expressing a wish, but even of uttering threats! The orator,
however, did not seem at all familiar with the word people, frequently
substituting for it that of “queen,” by mistake, in the course of his
speech.

Of course we were not allowed to say a single word in our own defense or
justification, nor, indeed, did we think of such a thing; for we were
very glad to escape so easily, and could hardly understand this
unexpected magnanimity on her majesty’s part. Alas! we neither knew nor
suspected what sufferings lay before us.

At the close of the kabar Mr. Lambert received back the presents which
had been carried away a few days before; but not all of them, as we
could see at the first glance. I fancy, however, that the missing
articles had not been detained by the queen, but by the officers and
grandees. Prince Rakoto kept nearly the whole of his share, sending back
only a few trifles, as it seemed, in nominal acquiescence to the queen’s
wishes.

All the officers and nobles among whom Mr. Lambert had distributed
presents were ordered to bring them back; but the considerable sums of
money they had received from the visitor, and of which the queen knew
nothing, remained in their possession.

Within an hour we were not only to get our baggage in order, and make
the necessary preparations for our journey in the way of laying in
provisions, but likewise to pack up all the valuable articles returned
to Mr. Lambert. How to do this was the question. Most of the chests had
been broken to pieces; for, after the queen had so solemnly fetched away
the presents, who would have thought of their being sent back?

We were really in a very serious dilemma; but there was no help for it.
So Mr. Lambert looked out the costliest articles in all haste, and we
threw pell-mell into our traveling trunks whatever we could cram in, and
pressed a few of the least battered of the chests into the service; thus
in a few hours we were ready to start. Fortunately for us, the officers,
soldiers, and bearers did not interpret the queen’s commands so
literally as we should have done. They set about their preparations
deliberately enough, and the rest of the day passed without our seeing
any thing more of them. We did not set out on our journey till the next
morning; and this delay gave Mr. Lambert an opportunity of packing up
many more of the returned presents.

July 18. With a truly heartfelt joy I turned my back upon a place where
I had suffered so much, and in which I heard of nothing all day long but
of poisonings and executions. This very morning, for example, a few
hours before our departure, ten Christians were put to death, with the
most frightful tortures. During their passage from the prison to the
market-place, the soldiers continually thrust at them with their spears;
and when they arrived at the place of execution, they were almost stoned
to death before their tormentors mercifully cut off the victims’ heads.
I am told that the poor creatures behaved with great fortitude, and
continued to sing hymns till they died.

On our way through the city we had to pass the market-place, and
encountered this terrible spectacle as a parting scene. Involuntarily
the thought arose within me that the magnanimity of so cruel and cunning
a woman could not be greatly depended on, and that perhaps the people
might have received secret orders to fall upon us and stone us to death.
But such was not the case. The natives came flocking round in crowds to
see us, and many even accompanied us a long distance from curiosity, but
no one offered to molest or insult us in any way.

Our progress from the capital to Tamatavé was one of the most
disagreeable and toilsome journeys I had ever made; never, in all my
various wanderings, had I endured any thing like such suffering. The
queen had not dared to have us publicly executed, but we soon discovered
her object to be that we should perish on our journey from the capital.
Mr. Lambert and I were suffering severely from fever. It was very
dangerous for us to stay long in the low-lying lands, where we were
inhaling deleterious gases, and highly important that we should travel
to Tamatavé as quickly as possible, and embark without delay for the
Mauritius, in quest of a better climate, proper nursing, and, above all,
of medical assistance; for there is no physician to be found at
Tananariva, or elsewhere in Madagascar, where every person doctors
himself as best he can. But we were not allowed to proceed as we wished.
The queen had issued her orders in a very different spirit; and, instead
of accomplishing the journey in eight days, the time usually occupied,
we were made to linger fifty-three days, nearly eight weeks, on the
road. In the most pestiferous regions we were left in wretched huts for
one or two weeks at a time; and frequently, when we suffered from
violent attacks of fever, our escort dragged us from our miserable
couches, and we had to continue our journey whether the day was fine or
rainy.

At Befora, one of the most unhealthy places on the whole line of
march--a squalid little village, so entirely surrounded by morasses that
it was impossible to advance fifty paces on firm ground--we were
detained eighteen entire days. Mr. Lambert endeavored by all conceivable
means to induce the commandant to accelerate our progress, and even, I
believe, offered him a considerable sum of money, but all his efforts
were vain. The queen’s orders had probably been so distinct and
peremptory that the officer dared not evade them in any way.

The huts in which we were lodged were generally in such a wretched
condition that they scarcely afforded shelter from the weather. Wind and
rain came rushing in every direction through the broken roofs and the
three half-decayed walls. To increase my sufferings, I had not even the
necessary bedding; and my warm clothes, in which I might have wrapped
myself at night, were stolen during our first day’s march. I had not,
like my companions, two or three servants, who could take care of my
things; unfortunately, I was master and servant both in one, and in my
weak state I found it impossible to attend to any thing. Whenever we
came to our resting-places I threw myself on my couch, and was often
unable to rise for days together. And what a couch it was! a thin mat, a
hard pillow, with my traveling cloak for a coverlet. One of the
missionaries afterward gave me one of his own pillows. During the whole
fifty-three days I did not change my clothes once, for my most earnest
entreaties were powerless to move the commandant to assign me a separate
place where I might dress and undress. We were thrust all together into
the same hut, however small it might be. My sufferings were beyond
description during the last three weeks, when I was unable even to raise
myself from my bed and totter a few paces.

Every illness is trying; but the Madagascar fever is, perhaps, one of
the most malignant of all diseases, and in my opinion it is far more
formidable than the yellow fever or the cholera. In the two last-named
diseases the patient’s sufferings are certainly more violent, but a few
days decide the question of death or recovery, while, on the other hand,
this horrible fever hangs about those it attacks month after month.
Violent pains are felt in the lower parts of the body, frequent
vomitings ensue, with total loss of appetite, and such weakness that the
sufferer can hardly move hand or foot. At last a feeling of entire
apathy supervenes, from which the sick person is unable to rouse
himself by even the strongest exertion of his will. I, who had been
accustomed from my earliest childhood to employment and activity, was
now best pleased when I could lie stretched for days on my couch, sunk
in a kind of trance, and wholly indifferent to what was going on around
me. This apathy, moreover, is not peculiar to persons of my age when
attacked by this illness, but is felt by the strongest men in the prime
of life; and it continues to plague the patient, as do also the pains in
the body, long after the fever itself has left him.

In the village of Eranomaro we met a French physician from the island of
Bourbon who had made an agreement with the queen and some of the nobles
to come to Tananariva for a few months every two years, bringing with
him some necessary medicaments. Mr. Lambert and I wished to consult this
gentleman on the subject of our fever, and to procure some medicine from
him. I specially stood in need of his help, for I was in far worse
health than Mr. Lambert, who only had attacks of fever once a fortnight,
while in my case they recurred every third or fourth day. The commandant
refused to allow us to go and see the physician, or to request him to
visit us, declaring that he had been imperatively commanded by the queen
herself not to let us hold communication with any one on our way, and
least of all with a European. This strictness, as we afterward learned,
was confined to ourselves, and was purposely intended to cut us off from
any assistance. Mr. Laborde, who traveled a few days’ journey in the
rear of our party, was much more leniently treated, and was allowed, on
meeting the physician, to spend a whole evening in his company.

Though the journey from Tananariva to Tamatavé lasted long enough in all
conscience, I had scant opportunity of seeing any thing of the manners
and customs of the people, being hampered as much by my illness as by
the strict surveillance under which we were placed. What cursory
observations I could make showed me that the natives possess some very
bad qualities. They are excessively idle, very frequently intoxicate
themselves, chatter continually, and seem to be entirely destitute of
natural modesty.

Thus our soldiers, who received neither provisions nor pay, and who
often suffered the greatest privations, would, I think, have died of
hunger rather than endeavor to earn any thing by any slight service. At
first I pitied the poor fellows, and bought rice and sweet potatoes for
them now and then, or made them a little present of money. When we came
to the forest region, where beautiful insects and snails were to be
found in abundance, I requested the men to procure me some specimens,
offering to pay for them in rice or money. My promises were unheeded;
not one of these people could I induce to comply. They would rather
crouch in any corner and suffer hunger than subject themselves to the
least exertion. This was not only the case among the soldiers; the
natives generally--men, women, and children--were all alike lazy. During
my first stay at Tamatavé, before visiting the capital, I had wished to
take three or four persons into monthly pay, and send them out into the
woods to collect specimens of insects, and offered four times the wages
they usually receive, promising a farther reward whenever they brought
me any thing really fine; but not a soul responded to my appeal. Just as
vainly did I display to the women and children my store of handsome
large glass beads, rings, bracelets, and similar treasures. They were
delighted with the articles, and would have been glad to possess them,
but only if I would give them away unconditionally. Never have I met
with such thoroughly indolent people. In nearly every country I visited
during my travels, and even among the quite uncivilized inhabitants of
Borneo and Sumatra, the natives often helped me, of their own accord,
when they saw me searching for shells and insects, or snails; and if I
rewarded them with a trifling gift, they brought me more than I could
carry away. I thus often made valuable collections; and here, in this
unexplored country, where there must be an abundance of insect life, I
unfortunately found it impossible to obtain any thing like a respectable
show. The few specimens I possess I have been obliged, almost without
exception, to collect for myself.

Drunkenness prevails throughout every district of Madagascar, with the
exception of the Emir territory, where some of the severe laws of
Dianampoiene, the founder of the Malagasey monarchy, are still observed;
among which there is one prohibiting the sale of ardent spirits, under
pain of death, and commanding the summary execution of every drunkard.
In this last-named district the people seem much more steady, orderly,
and respectable than in the others, where intemperance goes unpunished.
The favorite drink of the natives is the before-mentioned besa-besa,
prepared from the juice of the sugar-cane. In almost every village
drunkards of both sexes are seen reeling about even in the daytime; and
late at night we often heard music and singing, loud voices and
laughter, and not unfrequently quarreling and fighting.

Judged by this apparently continual state of hilarity, the people here
would seem to be the happiest on earth; but the condition of the poor
creatures is that of slaves and bondmen, and, like true serfs, they seek
in the pleasures of intoxication forgetfulness of their bondage and
misery.

Greatly as the Hovas and Malagaseys are addicted to drink, they are, I
think, still more fond of chattering. They seem unable to hold their
peace for two minutes together; and instead of saying their say quietly
and peaceably, they talk with such haste and eagerness, that it would
seem they thought the day too short for the interchange of their ideas.
Those who are not speaking keep up an almost continual laugh, so that I
often asked to be informed of the subject of their conversation,
thinking that something very witty and amusing was going on. But every
time I was assured that I was mistaken; their talking was of the most
trivial and sometimes of the most untranslatable kind, and they repeated
the same things a dozen times within the hour.

An instance of the peculiar garrulousness of these people came under my
own notice. Once, at Tananariva, I sent a messenger upon some errand,
and noticed that he immediately sought for a companion. On my announcing
that I would pay one messenger, but not two, my Mercury assured me I
need not give his comrade any thing, but added that he could not think
of accomplishing his journey on a long and solitary road without having
some one to converse with, and that he should therefore give his
companion a share of the fee.

Our bearers were no exception to the general rule. They chattered and
laughed without a moment’s pause, so that my poor sick head sometimes
fairly reeled. At first I fondly fancied, when we came to a steep hill,
that the exertion would make them pause. Vain hope! they panted and
groaned, but they never left off talking.

I have spoken of the impudence and shamelessness of these people; but my
pen refuses to record the scenes I witnessed on this doleful journey. We
were looked upon as state prisoners, and accordingly treated with less
respect and consideration than we had received during our progress to
the capital; and the natives who escorted us showed themselves without
disguise in all their natural viciousness. Frequently I did not know
which way to look; and my companions often pronounced me fortunate in my
ignorance of the native language.

At length, on the 12th of September, we arrived at Tamatavé; and we two
fever-patients, Mr. Lambert and I, had not done Queen Ranavola the
favor of dying, after all. It was really almost a miracle that we
escaped with our lives, and I, for my part, never expected that my weak,
exhausted frame could have endured the compulsory long delays in
unwholesome regions, the cruel usage, and the continual succession of
various hardships to which we had been subjected.

Neither Mr. Lambert nor I could obtain permission to stay in
Mademoiselle Julie’s house. We were taken to a little hut, and were
there guarded with the same strictness that had been exhibited on the
whole route. The commander of the escort announced to us that we were to
quit the island by the first ship that sailed for the Mauritius, and
that he had received orders to prevent us from holding communication
with any person in Tamatavé, and to accompany us with his soldiers till
we had fairly embarked.

I must say for the commandant and his officers that they fulfilled to
the very letter the orders the queen had given them; and if her majesty
of Madagascar should ever think of establishing an order of knighthood,
as she may probably some day do, they deserve to be Grand Crosses, every
one.

Queen Ranavola will probably take another view of the case, and these
zealous servants will, I fancy, be very ungraciously received when they
return with the unwelcome news that Mr. Lambert and I have quitted
Madagascar alive. I am sorry for her disappointment, but am selfish
enough to think it is better that it has happened so, after all.

We were fortunate enough to be detained only three days at Tamatavé. On
the 16th of September a ship was ready to sail for the Mauritius, and we
were then obliged to tear ourselves from our amiable escort and this
hospitable country. I shed no parting tear on the occasion--my heart
felt light as I stepped on board; and it was with intense satisfaction
that I saw the boat containing the commandant and his men paddling back
to the shore. Nevertheless, I do not regret having undertaken this
journey, and shall do so the less if I am fortunate enough to regain my
health.

In Madagascar I saw and heard more marvelous things than had come under
my notice in any other country; and if little can be said to the
advantage of the people, it must be remembered that, under the cruel,
insensate rule of Queen Ranavola, and in the entire absence of
instruction in religion and morality, no great expectations can
reasonably be formed. If Madagascar should once obtain a well-ordered,
civilized government, and should be visited by missionaries who, instead
of busying themselves with political intrigues, would devote their
energies to imparting the Christian religion, in its true sense, to the
people, a happy and flourishing kingdom may be founded in this beautiful
land: the materials of prosperity are certainly not wanting.

Of our return journey to the Mauritius I have little to tell. Our
vessel, the brig “Castro,” Captain Schneider, was about as slow a sailer
as the _quondam_ man-of-war which had borne us from the Mauritius to
Tamatavé about five months ago; and as the wind was not very favorable
to us, six days were consumed in the passage; but, in the enjoyment of
our newly-attained freedom, they fled blithely away.

At nine o’clock in the evening of the 22d of September we arrived in the
Mauritian waters, when an accident of a highly dangerous character
occurred, which might have cost us all our lives, to the great
satisfaction, no doubt, in such an event, of Queen Ranavola. The night
being dark and cloudy, the captain determined to cast anchor, and to
have the ship taken into harbor next morning by a steam-tug. Every
preparation had been made, and they were just about to let go the
anchor, when the rudder struck with such violence against a rock that
it was shattered into atoms. The crash of the broken beams and planks
was so great that it seemed as though the whole vessel were going to
pieces. I was already in bed, and started up in alarm to see what could
be the matter, when I heard the shout of the second officer, “Come up
this moment, Madame Pfeiffer, if you want to be saved; the ship is
broken in two, and sinking.”

I threw my cloak round me and hurried on deck. The kind officer, Mr. St.
Ange, helped me into one of the boats, and told me to sit still, and I
should be quite safe. On a closer inspection, it happily turned out that
the ship had not even sprung a leak, and that the whole damage was
limited to the loss of the rudder and the fright we had endured.

The anchors were lowered, and we went quietly to bed. Next morning the
bright sunshine woke us, signals were hoisted, and a steam-tug came
puffing out to tow us into the welcome harbor of the Mauritius.

My friends here were very much surprised to see me again. It appeared
that the most exaggerated reports had been received from Tamatavé of the
unfortunate issue of our undertaking. Some people gave out that Queen
Ranavola had caused all the Europeans in Tananariva to be executed;
others declared that the sentence of death had only been carried out on
Mr. Lambert, and that the rest, including myself, had been sold as
slaves; while another party maintained that we had been banished from
the country, and murdered on the journey by command of the queen.

I was happily enabled to give a very practical denial to these reports;
but the danger was not yet quite past. A few days after my arrival, the
moral and physical sufferings I had undergone, added to the peculiar
effects of the fever, brought on such a severe illness that the doctors
were long doubtful about my recovery, and I should certainly have died
but for the kind and active sympathy of the Moon family.

Mr. Moon, a medical man and apothecary, lives in a very retired manner,
with his amiable wife, on a sugar-plantation in Vacoa. I had, my readers
will remember, spent a few very happy days with this family before my
departure for Madagascar. As soon as Mr. Moon heard that I had returned
from my journey, and was very ill, he came to the capital to take me to
his house, where I arrived almost in a dying state. To his, and to Dr.
A. Perrot’s scientific skill, and to the unceasing care bestowed upon me
in his house, I have to ascribe my recovery; and it chanced that exactly
on my sixtieth birthday, the 9th of October, 1860, I was pronounced out
of danger.

May God reward Dr. Moon and his wife, and Dr. Perrot, for all they did
for me, a total stranger as I was to them!

       *       *       *       *       *

Here the diary of Madame Ida Pfeiffer ends. Unhappily, the hopes
expressed in its last lines were delusive. The danger was not past; and
though the attacks of the fever left her for longer or shorter periods,
they always returned, and she never entirely recovered her health and
strength. Her stay in the Mauritius was prolonged through several
months; and the letters written by her during this period to her sons
show that she had made various plans for new voyages, none of which were
destined to be carried into effect.

Thus, in a letter dated the 16th of December, 1857, she wrote:

“My sufferings from fever, and especially from its effects, have been
great, and are not yet quite past; but I hope that a sea-voyage will
completely set me up. I can not go to Europe at this season of the year.
I should have to contend against cold and bad weather, and am not sure
if I could do so in my present state of health. To wait here for better
weather would not do, as the air of this island does not agree with me,
so I shall probably proceed to Australia.”

In another letter, of the 13th of January, she says:

“I hope this is the last letter I shall date from the Mauritius. I shall
really be very glad to bid farewell to this island; but the parting from
the Moon and Kerr families will be very, very bitter. If these excellent
people had not taken care of me as they did, I should certainly have
perished here. No daughter could tend her mother with greater solicitude
than Mrs. Moon evinced toward me; and, indeed, all the members of both
families have vied with each other in doing me all kinds of service. My
dear sons, store up these names in your memory; and if chance should
ever bring you together with any one belonging to either of these
households, look upon them as brothers, and esteem yourselves happy if
you can do any thing for them.

“For the last three weeks my health has been improving day by day; the
fever seems at last about to quit me entirely; I can sleep now, and my
appetite is returning.

“A few days ago I made the acquaintance of a young German botanist here,
Mr. Herbst. He resides at Rio de Janeiro, and has been sent by the
Brazilian government to the Mauritius and the Ile de Bourbon to collect
sugar-cane plants, to improve the species cultivated in the Brazils. He
is to take a whole cargo home with him, and hopes to arrive in Rio de
Janeiro in May. I almost intended to accompany him; but, as I do not
know if you will be there at that date, it will perhaps be better to
make the voyage to Australia first. I have met with a very good
opportunity of going to Sydney, and shall start in a few days; the
sea-voyage, and the bracing air in Australia, where I shall arrive at
the best season of the year, late in autumn, will, I hope, set the seal
on my recovery, and entirely re-establish my health.”

Only two days later, in a letter dated the 1st of March, she thus wrote:

“I was compelled suddenly to give up my project on account of the
detestable Madagascar fever, which persists in returning, and weakens me
very much. I was ready to embark for Australia, and had sent the greater
part of my effects on board, when I was seized with a fresh attack. I
had my chest landed from the ship, and intend to start on the 8th with
the packet for London, where I shall, however, only stay a short time,
for it is my wish to get to my own home as fast as possible.”

At length she quitted the Mauritius. During the tedious passage she
experienced no attack of fever, and at the beginning of the month of
June arrived in London, where she, however, only remained a few weeks.
From London she betook herself to Hamburg; but there, too, she could not
find rest; and in the month of July she went to Berlin, on the
invitation of her friend, the wife of Privy Councilor Weisz, in whose
house she was nursed with the tenderest care.

Her brothers sent urgent letters, begging her to come home to her native
Vienna, and Madame Maria Reyer, the wife of her brother, Cæsar Reyer,
wished to proceed to Berlin for the express purpose of fetching her. But
she positively declined this proposal. Although her strength was waning
from day to day, she seems to have considered her illness as only
temporary, and in this belief she wrote to her brother, expressing a
hope that she should soon recover, or at least be in a better condition
for traveling, and promised them to come to Vienna.

Still she seemed to yearn secretly for home; and when week after week
elapsed without bringing any improvement in her health, she had herself
conveyed to the residence of a friend, Baroness Stem, who lived on an
estate in the neighborhood of Cracow.

Her illness unhappily increased, and at last, abandoning the hope of a
speedy recovery, she consented to be removed to Vienna. Her
sister-in-law came for her; and sad indeed was the meeting with her
affectionate friend and relative, who found her in such a weak condition
as to despair of the possibility of proceeding to Vienna. But as the
physician declared that she might undertake the journey, and the sick
lady herself showed the greatest anxiety to behold her home once more,
she was taken with the greatest care, in a separate railway carriage, to
Vienna, to the house of her brother, Charles Reyer, where she arrived in
September.

Here several medical consultations were held upon her case, to which her
brother summoned the most distinguished physicians of the capital. One
and all pronounced that she was suffering from cancer in the liver--a
consequence probably of the Madagascar fever; that the disease had
deranged and was destroying the internal organs, and that her malady was
incurable.

Her native air seemed to do her good; for a few weeks she suffered but
little pain, and new hope awoke within her; she even spoke of
undertaking short journeys, and visiting her friends in Grätz, Trieste,
and other places. But this restlessness was probably only a symptom of
her disease, for her strength gave way more and more; violent pains came
on, which continued almost without intermission during the last four
weeks of her life, and frequently she sank into delirium.

She was most affectionately tended and nursed in her brother’s house,
under the especial supervision of her sister-in-law, whose affection for
her was so great as to keep her continually by the sufferer’s bedside;
and a few days before her death she had the happiness to embrace her
eldest son, who lived in Steyermark, and hastened to Vienna upon the
first intelligence of his mother’s serious illness.

During the last days of her life opiates were administered to lessen her
sufferings, and in the night between the 27th and 28th of October she
expired peacefully, and apparently without pain.

Her funeral took place on the 30th of the same month. Besides a very
numerous gathering of relations and personal friends, many scientific
notabilities and other distinguished inhabitants of Vienna followed her
to the grave. Peace be to her ashes!

       *       *       *       *       *

Let me be permitted herewith to offer my warmest, my most heartfelt
thanks to you, dear Aunt Maria Reyer, and to you, dear Uncle Charles
Reyer, for all you did for my mother. Unhappily, I was not privileged to
hear her last words or to receive her parting glance, for I was far away
when the sad news was brought me. Through you both, I at least enjoy the
consolation of knowing that my poor mother had every care and attention
shown to her, and that she heard friendly and beloved voices around her
bed to the last.

To our other relations, and the numerous friends who showed her such
true, such delicate kindness, and particularly to Mr. and Mrs. Moon, in
the Mauritius, I return my most hearty thanks. Let them be assured that
their names will ever live in my memory with the remembrance of my
beloved mother.

                                                        OSCAR PFEIFFER.


THE END.

       *       *       *       *       *

_Mr. Motley, the American historian of the United Netherlands--we owe
him English homage._--LONDON TIMES.

“_As interesting as a romance, and as reliable as a proposition of
Euclid._”


History of The United Netherlands.

FROM THE DEATH OF WILLIAM THE SILENT TO THE SYNOD OF DORT. WITH A FULL
VIEW OF THE ENGLISH-DUTCH STRUGGLE AGAINST SPAIN, AND OF THE ORIGIN AND
DESTRUCTION OF THE SPANISH ARMADA.

BY JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY, LL.D., D.C.L., Corresponding Member of the
Institute of France, Author of “The Rise of the Dutch Republic.”

With Portraits and Map.

2 vols. 8vo, Muslin, $4 00; Sheep, $4 50; Half Calf, $6 00.


_Critical Notices._

His living and truthful picture of events.--_Quarterly Review_ (London),
Jan., 1861.

Fertile as the present age has been in historical works of the highest
merit, none of them can be ranked above these volumes in the grand
qualities of interest, accuracy, and truth.--_Edinburgh Quarterly
Review_, Jan., 1861.

This noble work.--_Westminster Review_ (London).

One of the most fascinating as well as important histories of the
century.--_Cor. N. Y. Evening Post._

The careful study of these volumes will infallibly afford a feast both
rich and rare.--_Baltimore Republican._

Already takes a rank among standard works of history.--_London Critic._

Mr. Motley’s prose epic.--_London Spectator._

Its pages are pregnant with instruction.--_London Literary Gazette._

We may profit by almost every page of his narrative. All the topics
which agitate us now are more or less vividly presented in the History
of the United Netherlands.--_New York Times._

Bears on every page marks of the same vigorous mind that produced “The
Rise of the Dutch Republic;” but the new work is riper, mellower, and
though equally racy of the soil, softer flavored. The inspiring idea
which breathes through Mr. Motley’s histories and colors the whole
texture of his narrative, is the grandeur of that memorable struggle in
the 16th century by which the human mind broke the thraldom of religious
intolerance and achieved its independence.--_The World, N. Y._

The name of Motley now stands in the very front rank of living
historians. His _Dutch Republic_ took the world by surprise; but the
favorable verdict then given is now only the more deliberately confirmed
on the publication of the continued story under the title of the
_History of the United Netherlands_. All the nerve, and power, and
substance of juicy life are there, lending a charm to every
page.--_Church Journal, N. Y._

Motley, indeed, has produced a prose epic, and his fighting scenes are
as real, spirited, and life-like as the combats in the Iliad.--_The
Press_ (Phila.).

His history is as interesting as a romance, and as reliable as a
proposition of Euclid. Clio never had a more faithful disciple. We
advise every reader whose means will permit to become the owner of these
fascinating volumes, assuring him that he will never regret the
investment.--_Christian Intelligencer, N. Y._

Published by HARPER & BROTHERS,
Franklin Square, New York.

☛ HARPER & BROTHERS will send the above Work by Mail, postage pre-paid
(for any distance in the United States under 3000 miles), on receipt of
the Money.

       *       *       *       *       *

“They do honor to American Literature, and would do honor to the
Literature of any Country in the World.”

THE RISE OF THE DUTCH REPUBLIC. A history.

BY JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY.

     New Edition. With a Portrait of WILLIAM OF ORANGE. 3 vols. 8vo,
     Muslin, $6 00; Sheep, $6 75; Half Calf antique, $9 00; Half Calf,
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We regard this work as the best contribution to modern history that has
yet been made by an American.--_Methodist Quarterly Review._

The “History of the Dutch Republic” is a great gift to us; but the heart
and earnestness that beat through all its pages are greater, for they
give us most timely inspiration to vindicate the true ideas of our
country, and to compose an able history of our own.--_Christian
Examiner_ (Boston).

This work bears on its face the evidences of scholarship and research.
The arrangement is clear and effective; the style energetic, lively, and
often brilliant. * * * Mr. Motley’s instructive volumes will, we trust,
have a circulation commensurate with their interest and
value.--_Protestant Episcopal Quarterly Review._

To the illustration of this most interesting period Mr. Motley has
brought the matured powers of a vigorous and brilliant mind, and the
abundant fruits of patient and judicious study and deep reflection. The
result is, one of the most important contributions to historical
literature that have been made in this country.--_North American
Review._

We would conclude this notice by earnestly recommending our readers to
procure for themselves this truly great and admirable work, by the
production of which the author has conferred no less honor upon his
country than he has won praise and fame for himself, and than which, we
can assure them, they can find nothing more attractive or interesting
within the compass of modern literature.--_Evangelical Review._

It is not often that we have the pleasure of commending to the attention
of the lover of books a work of such extraordinary and unexceptionable
excellence as this one.--_Universalist Quarterly Review._

There are an elevation and a classic polish in these volumes, and a
felicity of grouping and of portraiture, which invest the subject with
the attractions of a living and stirring episode in the grand historic
drama.--_Southern Methodist Quarterly Review._

The author writes with a genial glow and love of his
subject.--_Presbyterian Quarterly Review._

Mr. Motley is a sturdy Republican and a hearty Protestant. His style is
lively and picturesque, and his work is an honor and an important
accession to our national literature.--_Church Review._

Mr. Motley’s work is an important one, the result of profound research,
sincere convictions, sound principles, and manly sentiments; and even
those who are most familiar with the history of the period will find in
it a fresh and vivid addition to their previous knowledge. It does honor
to American literature, and would do honor to the literature of any
country in the world.--_Edinburgh Review._

A serious chasm in English historical literature has been (by this book)
very remarkably filled. * * * A history as complete as industry and
genius can make it now lies before us, of the first twenty years of the
revolt of the United Provinces. * * * All the essentials of a great
writer Mr. Motley eminently possesses. His mind is broad, his industry
unwearied. In power of dramatic description no modern historian, except,
perhaps, Mr. Carlyle, surpasses him, and in analysis of character he is
elaborate and distinct.--_Westminster Review._

It is a work of real historical value, the result of accurate criticism,
written in a liberal spirit, and from first to last deeply
interesting.--_Athenæum._

The style is excellent, clear, vivid, eloquent; and the industry with
which original sources have been investigated, and through which new
light has been shed over perplexed incidents and characters, entitles
Mr. Motley to a high rank in the literature of an age peculiarly rich in
history.--_North British Review._

It abounds in new information, and, as a first work, commands a very
cordial recognition, not merely of the promise it gives, but of the
extent and importance of the labor actually performed on it.--_London
Examiner._

Mr. Motley’s “History” is a work of which any country might be
proud.--_Press_ (London).

Mr. Motley’s History will be a standard book of reference in historical
literature.--_London Literary Gazette._

Mr. Motley has searched the whole range of historical documents
necessary to the composition of his work.--_London Leader._

This is really a great work. It belongs to the class of books in which
we range our Grotes, Milmans, Merivales, and Macaulays, as the glories
of English literature in the department of history. * * * Mr. Motley’s
gifts as a historical writer are among the highest and
rarest.--_Nonconformist_ (London).

Mr. Motley’s volumes will well repay perusal. * * * For his learning,
his liberal tone, and his generous enthusiasm, we heartily commend him,
and bid him good speed for the remainder of his interesting and heroic
narrative.--_Saturday Review._

The story is a noble one, and is worthily treated. * * * Mr. Motley has
had the patience to unravel, with unfailing perseverance, the thousand
intricate plots of the adversaries of the Prince of Orange; but the
details and the literal extracts which he has derived from original
documents, and transferred to his pages, give a truthful color and a
picturesque effect, which are especially charming.--_London Daily News._

M. Lothrop Motley dans son magnifique tableau de la formation de notre
République.--G. GROEN VAN PRINSTERER.

Our accomplished countryman, Mr. J. Lothrop Motley, who, during the last
five years, for the better prosecution of his labors, has established
his residence in the neighborhood of the scenes of his narrative. No one
acquainted with the fine powers of mind possessed by this scholar, and
the earnestness with which he has devoted himself to the task, can doubt
that he will do full justice to his important but difficult subject--W.
H. PRESCOTT.

The production of such a work as this astonishes, while it gratifies the
pride of the American reader.--_N. Y. Observer._

The “Rise of the Dutch Republic” at once, and by acclamation, takes its
place by the “Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire,” as a work which,
whether for research, substance, or style, will never be
superseded.--_N. Y. Albion._

A work upon which all who read the English language may congratulate
themselves.--_New Yorker Handels Zeitung._

Mr. Motley’s place is now (alluding to this book) with Hallam and Lord
Mahon, Alison and Macaulay in the Old Country, and with Washington
Irving, Prescott, and Bancroft in this.--_N. Y. Times._

THE authority, in the English tongue, for the history of the period and
people to which it refers.--_N. Y. Courier and Enquirer._

This work at once places the author on the list of American historians
which has been so signally illustrated by the names of Irving, Prescott,
Bancroft, and Hildreth.--_Boston Times._

The work is a noble one, and a most desirable acquisition to our
historical literature.--_Mobile Advertiser._

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which it was written.--_Ohio Farmer._

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CURTIS’S HISTORY OF THE CONSTITUTION.


     HISTORY OF THE ORIGIN, FORMATION, AND ADOPTION OF THE CONSTITUTION
     OF THE UNITED STATES. By GEORGE TICKNOR CURTIS. Complete in 2 vols.
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It will take its place among the classics of American
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The author has given years to the preliminary studies, and nothing has
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judgment of future generations.--_Boston Traveler._

Should the second volume sustain the character of the first, we hazard
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standard work. It will furnish the only sure guide to the interpretation
of the Constitution, by unfolding historically the wants it was intended
to supply, and the evils which it was intended to remedy.--_Boston Daily
Advertiser._

This volume is an important contribution to our constitutional and
historical literature. * * * Every true friend of the Constitution will
gladly welcome it. The author has presented a narrative clear and
interesting. It evinces careful research, skillful handling of material,
lucid statement, and a desire to write in a tone and manner worthy of
the great theme.--_Boston Post._

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FOOTNOTES:

[A] A florin, of sixty kreutzers, is worth about 2_s._ English money.

[B] Even in the favorable season of the year, very few strangers escape
the intermittent fever. Mr. Lambert had a slight attack of it on the
second day of our arrival at Tananariva, and afterward both he and I
suffered terribly from it.








End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The last travels of Ida Pfeiffer:
inclusive of a visit to Madagasca, by Ida Pfeiffer

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 60474 ***