or so regular in their habits, as are servants in India. They have been
under English training a comparatively short time; till recently many of
them have not been able to earn money for themselves: and they have
lacked the great motives to personal improvement and diligence by which
the free service of India is stimulated. What curious costumes they
would at times put on! What strange cookery they would produce! What
vagaries they would be guilty of! Indian servants worry their mistresses
enough in household arrangements: but I am afraid that the Malagasy
servants are a greater worry still. My own servant was willing and
attentive; but he was not strong: and certainly he went through a great
deal and travelled far in the course of my wanderings in the island. His
wages were six shillings a month for service; and two shillings extra
for food: and on that magnificent sum he maintained a wife and two
children; kept his house in repair; and subscribed systematically to his
church funds. I learned much Malagasy from him: and with occasional
interpretations of difficult matters from my host and hostess, we
managed to understand each other tolerably well.
Our house stood within a large garden: and the pains taken by my hostess
in cultivating it were rewarded by seeing it for months together bright
and gay with flowers. Many of our English flowers grew readily: but
nothing could equal the coxcombs in their beauty. The flowers were
enormous: we had eleven in the garden, all handsome in form and of a
deep rich crimson. But one, the pride of the garden, grew to be
thirty-two inches in length and eighteen inches across: and when finally
cut off, close to the green stem, it weighed two pounds and a quarter.
It was a truly splendid flower.
Our garden was a very practical place also. We grew English peas, broad
beans, French beans, carrots, mint and vegetable marrows. We had a large
number of mango-trees, which yielded a good crop of mangoes, and several
bibás or loquat trees, which also gave very sweet fruit. And several
cucumber vines secured a regular supply of English cucumbers.
During the rainy season, from December to April, the weather was
exceedingly pleasant. The sun was hot: but the air in Imerina is thin
and the heat was not oppressive or fiery, as on the coast or in the
plains of India. The thermometer usually stood in the shade at 75°.
Under a strange but convenient rule the storms and thundershowers rarely
fell before four in the afternoon. But often during the evening they
would burst with great violence: the lightning would stream in chains of
molten silver all over the sky; the thunder would follow in sharp,
cracking peals with a terrific cannonade; and then the rain fell in
torrents. During the morning the air was exquisitely fresh and crisp and
pure: the sky was a pale, delicate blue; the light was sharp and
brilliant; and we could distinctly see objects many miles away, as if
they were close by.
The view from the platform on which our house stood, over the plain to
the northward was wonderfully beautiful. Bordered by grand hills and
studded with hundreds of villages and towns, Imerina is in many respects
one of the most picturesque provinces of Madagascar. Here it is gay with
the bright green of the young rice: there it is shaded with the dark
woods of Iláfy and Ambóhimánga. Here the great turtle-head rock of
Ambátomaláza stands conspicuous in the landscape, or the lofty pillars
of the Three Sisters; there are the long slope of Fándravásana, the
rugged peaks of Antóngona, or the towering masses of Ankáratra. Here lie
the quiet waters of the Queen’s Lake, with its little island embowered
in trees; there are seen clusters of villages with their brown huts, the
green ramparts of Ambóhidrapéto or the lofty amóntana of Ambóhidratrímo.
It was impossible to survey this wide-spread scene without feelings of
exhilaration and delight. We know the golden glory which at sunset
lights up the snows of Switzerland: but nothing can exceed the sharpness
of the light as it plays over the landscape in the crisp, clear air of
Madagascar after refreshing rain; and no pen can describe the deep
golden blush which beautifies the red hills with an unearthly radiance
when the autumnal sun sinks calmly to rest. Day after day, from the
terrace of my Madagascar home I looked with feelings akin to rapture
upon that wondrous scene. For I saw on every side not merely material
beauty, the grace of form, rich tones and tints of colour, or the
bountiful supply for a people’s wants; I beheld the proofs of a young
nation’s progress; new houses rising in the villages; new houses of
better pattern for the wealthier classes. I saw the fortressed hills
deserted for the open plain; peace, security, mutual confidence had
taken the place of intestine war: I saw the new school-house and the
handsome church, intelligent children and devout congregations; I saw
that men were living in truer fellowship with men, because together they
were striving to rise higher towards God.
The great market of Antananarivo was a place full of interest to us
strangers. It is called the ZOMA or Friday, because it is held upon that
day. It stands on the north-west of the city; on the hill which forms
the outer side of the Analakely valley. It is lozenge-shaped, and its
sides are about sixty yards long. It may once have proved spacious; but
the requirements of the place have outgrown the accommodation and it is
now far too small for its work. It is believed that thirty thousand
people come into it from the country every Friday. The south side of the
market extends to the public road, and there have been erected a line of
booths, covering wooden platforms, which in Madagascar form the nearest
approach to shops. Everywhere else there is a great absence of
convenient arrangements for the display and sale of goods. A few squares
of raised clay, a few wooden frames, a few large umbrellas, these are
the only fittings. In most cases the traders just lay their goods on the
ground on mats or a white cloth. There are also no fixed roads through
and across the market-place, and it is as difficult to move through the
dense crowd as through a herd of cows.
The articles sold form an excellent index of the degree of civilisation
which has been reached by the people. There is a loose classification of
them to be found in various divisions of the market. Firewood is brought
in large quantities from the forest: but it is not large wood, it is
mostly brush. Huge piles of _hérena_ also are close by, a broad-leafed
papyrus, most useful for thatching: beams, boards, poles and door-posts
are brought in considerable quantities: they are prepared in the forest
solely by the hatchet: a noble tree makes but one board, which sells for
half-a-crown; and the waste in preparing it is enormous. The principal
meat sold is beef, of which there is abundance throughout the island.
Good mutton also may be had, of the fat-tailed sheep; and plenty of
pork, which I do not recommend. The sheep are tied together by their
legs. Turkeys, ducks, geese and fowls appear in large quantities. Rice
abounds, of several kinds; and is sold both cleaned and in the husk.
Potatoes are provided more for the English families than for the natives
generally; and with green peas, are usually brought to their houses.
Yams and sweet potatoes are abundant; and also Indian corn. Green
vegetables are not common; some twelve or fifteen kinds are known and
eaten by the people: but they do not form so decided an element in their
food as in England. Rice is all in all to the Malagasy. There is a good
supply of fruit in the market; the bananas, large and small, are good:
pine-apples are abundant, good and bad; also green lemons, large, red
tomatoes, mulberries, wild peaches, and a little round fruit, the Cape
gooseberry. There is plenty of honey: also of tobacco, of native growth.
The tobacco is sold in leaf, stalk and powder: with little snuff-mulls
made from bamboo; and the people do not smoke, nor smell, but suck and
eat it!
All varieties of the common native lamba appear on the stalls; whether
made from cotton or from the palm-fibre; with English chintzes, printed
cottons, calicoes and long-cloth: and in wearing imported dresses the
natives seem to consider as an ornament the name of the English
manufacturer or merchant stamped on the cloth in large blue letters.
Lambas with striped borders are favourites with the natives: but there
is a fashion in these things, and the fashion changes in Antanánarivo,
as well as in Paris. Fine straw hats are common: they are worn by the
Hovas with a broad black velvet band, and make a handsome headdress.
Flimsy umbrellas with double cover, through which the sun shines
powerfully, are numerous and cheap. Good mats also may be purchased, as
well as coarse and common mats. Silk lambas are not exposed for sale in
the market, for solid reasons: but baskets of cocoons, both yellow and
white, may always be seen: they are small in size. Hanks and skeins of
the silk are common, white, yellow and brown.
There is a good supply of iron work in the market: but it is rough and
coarse. Heavy spades; nails of various sizes; hinges, locks, pincers and
tweezers, hatchets, choppers, hammers and trowels, are sold in
abundance, all of native work. Many articles of a superior kind, saws,
hatchets, padlocks, hinges and the like, are English. Of native crockery
and glass there is nothing: it is all English: and the English houses
that import it seem to think that flaming patterns suit the native
taste. A great deal of crockery is gradually being introduced among the
people, who find dishes, bowls, plates and cups exceedingly useful. A
bottle is much prized in Madagascar, as in India. The native pottery is
very poor: it is ill-burnt and very brittle. Still water pitchers, jars,
plates and saucers (both red and black) are brought to the market in
large quantities. The potter’s wheel is not known in Madagascar, as it
is in India; where excellent tiles are made on it, as well as vessels of
many kinds. There is good tin ware in the market: cups, water-scoops,
and blue boxes with round and flat lids. Neat wooden boxes also are
sold; but they are heavy. There was one stall in the market, for
lozenges and tea: and a Christian schoolmaster had one, for the sale of
slates, books, pencils, steel pens, note-books and paper. Lastly there
were always for sale a few slaves.
Many things that may now be purchased in the city are not brought to the
market at all. Good boots and shoes are increasing in numbers: and the
natives work them neatly: but the sole-leather is poor and ill tanned.
House furniture on English patterns can be made to order: sideboards,
wardrobes, tables and chairs, can be purchased at moderate rates. The
native carpenters also produce all the fittings of schools and churches,
window frames, and Venetian shutters, and doors and flooring for houses.
To me the prices of all these things were an object of constant
amusement; they were so low. A lady would tell her cook to bring home
from the market six-pennyworth of sirloin; and receive some five lbs. of
beef as the result. I once sent into the Capital a bushel and a half of
potatoes for which I paid a shilling. Common pine-apples came into the
market, five hundred for a dollar, that is ten for a penny: beautiful
pine-apples were a penny each: a large dishful of good mangoes cost
twopence. Beams and rafters, four inches by six, and twelve feet long,
would cost from sevenpence to tenpence each. We used to get forty eggs
for a shilling in the city: in the country they had a fancy price and
were a penny each. A large turkey cost a shilling: a fat fowl, twopence.
Wages are of course low in a country like this: they are lower even than
in India: but food is also much cheaper. In one district we found that
sixty lbs. weight of maize was sold for threepence: rice was equally
cheap and plentiful. With improvements, expenses are increasing, and
prices are slowly rising: security, honesty, diligence properly demand
higher wages; and they furnish in abundance those increased resources by
which such wages are paid.
With increase of civilisation, production and sales there has naturally
arisen an increased demand for money. The Malagasy have no coin of their
own: and the want is supplied by a constant importation of French
silver. The only coin which passes current with the people is the
five-franc piece, which has the value of a dollar, i.e. four shillings.
The whole piece represents what is a large sum to a Malagasy. To provide
therefore for small payments the dollars are cut into halves, quarters,
eighths, and smaller pieces. Some men can get six hundred pieces out of
a dollar, each piece having a portion of the stamp on it. This broken
money is sold or paid by weight: and every household, English or native,
has its little weights and scales for the purpose. Coins of the Malagasy
government, both silver and copper, of various values, will be a great
improvement on this inconvenient system. But it will take time to
introduce them. I learned in India that on no subject are natives so
sensitive as on that of coined money.
The European community live principally in the northern parts of the
city: a goodly number reside near the earliest seat of the mission in
Análakély: a large group again occupy the upper part of the Faravohitra
hill, among whom the Friends are conspicuous. Three of the public roads
were in constant use amongst us, as they united the various houses and
settlements together. The road along the top of Faravohitra going south
climbs a steep part of the city-hill and terminates in the Andohalo
plain. Close by its termination a road runs westward: it passes the
Girls’ Central School, the Normal School and the London Society’s Press:
then turns down the hill at the head of the Analakely valley, and passes
the Norwegian Church to Ambátonakanga. Turning north under the walls of
the Memorial Church there, it descends into Analakely, then keeps up the
side of the Faravohitra hill, until it joins the first of the roads at
the north end of that hill. I was anxious to see these three roads well
paved: to see them made a model of what the city roads and paths should
be. But difficulties were suggested and it was thought that the expense
would be heavy. Nevertheless a good beginning would have been worth
something; and I yet hope to hear that the project will be carried out.
At present all the city roads are in a bad way, even at their best. At
Ankadibevava, the road which enters the city on the east has a yawning
gulf at its side, which would not only swallow one Curtius and his
steed, but would bury a dozen enterprising young Malagasy similarly
mounted. A strong stream of water from open drains pours into this
gully, which year by year is growing deeper. The heavy torrents of rain
which fall in a single thunderstorm cut up the ground badly wherever
they are permitted to run uncontrolled. And it is because so little is
done both to check them in their fall, and to repair the damage when
once produced, that the city roads are in such an uncivilised condition.
If once put right, they must also by constant care be kept right. But
the need of that care is no reason why they should not be repaired at
all.
In moving about during the day my Indian experience led me to be careful
of exposure to the sun. I wore a light woollen dress: my Indian helmet
of pith proved most useful; and I carried a large double umbrella. We
had all to guard against the morning mists and the strong east winds:
and there was a constant tendency to get chilled by changes of
temperature in the pure, thin air. Such chills, I found, were far more
frequently the cause of fever in our native bearers, than anything else.
We walked as much as we could without suffering fatigue: or were carried
by four men, in the usual _filanzan_; which is the back and seat of a
chair hung on to a pair of well-fitted poles. We observed with interest
that after sunset the streets of the city are completely deserted by the
natives: and in moving about we always carried lanterns.
[Illustration:
THE QUEEN’S RESIDENCE.
]
Beyond Andohálo, proceeding south, we rise to the highest part of the
city-hill: and here in a cluster stand the Queen’s Palace and many
houses of the Prime Minister and the chief nobles of the country. The
Great Palace is growing a more conspicuous object than ever; owing to
the verandah of stone pillars by which Mr. Cameron is now strengthening
it. When finished it will be a handsome building: but it has been a
heavy tax upon the people’s energies. The Queen’s residence is a smaller
palace of wood just behind. Close to it is the Royal church, a handsome
building also, erected after an English pattern by Mr. Pool. These
various buildings have often been sketched by writers on the city; they
are shown in the frontispiece to this volume; and I need only refer to
them. The many improvements introduced into them in recent years, as
well as into the churches and dwelling-houses in their neighbourhood,
give striking indications of the great advance made by the upper classes
in the island.
Our social life in Antanónarivo had few excitements. More than twenty
families are now stationed in the city, connected with the different
missions; and constant and most friendly intercourse takes place between
them. My colleague and myself were made most welcome in their pleasant
homes, and the friendship extended to us did much to lighten the burden
of what would otherwise have proved a somewhat lonely life. Social
gatherings frequently took place. But the most pleasant of all was the
regular Friday-evening prayer meeting, held at the different houses in
succession; at which thirty or forty were present; and which was felt to
be a constant stimulus to spiritual life and power, where external aids
were so largely wanting. Our English service on Sundays in the Andohálo
school-room furnished similar help. By common consent my colleague was
installed as principal chaplain during our visit: and his wise counsels
and the ripe Christian experience embodied in his discourses, were not
only a present help and pleasure, but will be long remembered now that
he has returned home.
We all felt much out of the world in Madagascar. To the great world
which we had left, the trade, the government, and the people of the
island, are linked by very slender ties. The Malagasy know very little
of foreign lands: few understand the English language and the condition
and affairs of England. Those who have been to England have not felt
free to tell what they saw: in former days it would have been dangerous
to tell it: for to depreciate Madagascar by showing the superiority of
other countries was neither more nor less than high treason. Knowledge
is increasing among them; the pictures and sketches of the _Illustrated
London News_ and the _Graphic_, are teaching them many things: and the
monthly periodical, _Tény Soa_, issued by the Mission, systematically
describes many others. Perhaps it is well that, where they are so far
behind the great world, the knowledge of that world should not be
brought to bear upon them too fast or too far. The mass to be lifted is
broad and heavy: power may well be applied to it by degrees and
steadily: it is rising now and will be lifted more rapidly in due time.
Meanwhile the vis inertiæ around them exercises a most depressing
influence on the English community. Its tendency is to weary out the
efforts of the enterprising, to damp the spirits of the cheerful, and to
produce languor in the earnest. We could not but notice this immediately
when we arrived. There was a stillness in the air which was in strong
contrast to the active life which we had just quitted. There seemed a
want of cohesion, of the active co-operation, which we naturally looked
for. The diligent were working earnestly, but alone. The stillness had
doubtless been intensified by the fact that the mission were waiting for
those final rearrangements, which had been in preparation for some time,
but the details of which had yet to be shaped out in consultation with
ourselves. We also felt the influence of the quiet. The quick, electric
life of London, in politics, in scientific discussion and religious
thought was gone. We had only one mail a month, which at its best
brought us a limited supply of news. Even this mail was irregular. The
postmaster at Bourbon through whose hands the bulk of it passes,
occasionally detained the mail till next time; or suddenly began
charging us sixteen shillings postage on some newspaper; or was guilty
of other vagaries inscrutable by an ordinary mind. We received a few
periodicals, and there reached us indistinct echoes of parliamentary
discussions, of startling addresses by Huxley or Tyndall; of the Indian
famine, and of the revival commencing in Scotland. The mail which should
have brought us intelligence of the great break-up of the Liberal Party
and the election of the new House of Commons, never came at all, till
its successor reached us.
Such things greatly affect the English communities abroad. Who can
wonder that as years go by they fall somewhat behind the age: and that
the more isolated they are, the less complete is their knowledge of the
society which they quitted and their sympathy with the progress which it
has made. This is a point to which the attention of English missionaries
in all countries should be carefully directed. Their function and their
work are of the loftiest kind. They are the sources of spiritual power
to tribes and nations destitute of it. The converts and their churches
look to them for counsel and instruction in regard to things present,
and for stimulus and suggestions in respect to future progress. So long
as their zeal and self-denial are fresh, their enterprise will be fresh
and spirited also. If they lack spring and energy, they will fall into
routine; their watchfulness will give place to dullness: and continued
advance will be slow, if not impossible. I used to feel these things
when in India: and was glad that in a city like Calcutta the external
aids to the maintenance of freshness and vigour in our work were
numerous and powerful. We had frequent mails, a good supply of the
latest English literature, discussions in the Calcutta Missionary
Conference, and friendly counsel and co-operation not only amongst
ourselves but in the different Societies. Such aids will ever be of high
value, but the greatest help of all will be found in a continued and
lofty self-consecration to that high aim which above all men on earth
the Christian missionary professes to follow; will be found in the rule
“One thing I do,” “looking unto Jesus, the author and the finisher of
faith.”
Shortly after our return from Ambátovóry, in the beginning of January,
it was arranged that a GENERAL CONFERENCE of the English missionaries
should be held in Antanánarivo, to consider the present position and
needs of their missionary work in the island. The place chosen for the
meeting was the Memorial Church at Faravohitra: and it was impossible
not to associate the present prosperity of the mission and its
consequent demands, with the uncompromising fidelity of the martyrs from
which they have sprung. Mr. Pillans and I took the deepest interest in
all the details of that great day of suffering, which the Faravohitra
Church specially commemorates. We heard the story from men who had
witnessed the events: we trode every step of the ground which the feet
of the sufferers have made evermore sacred: and from the platform on
which the church stands, every spot connected with it from its beginning
to its close was before our eyes. It was patiently rehearsed for us: the
crowded assembly on the Análakély plain beneath: the booming of the
cannon; the agitation of the people: the sentence pronounced by the
judges on the noble four, of death by fire. There (we were told) they
mounted the red clay road, singing: “There is a happy land, far, far
away:” here they crossed the bare granite rock: there they rounded the
old tombs: here they reached the weird, waste ground, whereon the
brushwood was already piled. Around them were the silent crowd, that
wondered and trembled but could not understand them. We stood on the
spot where they died; where they died joyous, triumphant, singing and
apparently without pain. In the first meeting of the Conference we sang
their dying hymn: a hymn which is now used as their dismission-hymn by
more than a thousand Christian congregations in Madagascar every
Sabbath-day. It is always sung to the tune _Mariners_.
“Grant us, Saviour, royal blessings,
Now that to our homes we go;
Fill our hearts and lives with gladness,
Make us love divine to know:
Gladden us with joys of heaven,
In this desert world below.
“Thanks we give Thee, Holy Spirit,
Who hast taught us words divine:
May we learn the holy lesson,
Let Thy face upon us shine:
Dwell in us, enlighten, lead us,
Nothing would we be but Thine.
“And when earth no longer keeps us,
When shall end life’s little day,
Bear us to the upper heaven,
Father, in Thy house to stay:
Joy unspeakable our portion,
There, for ever and for aye.”
The Conference commenced its sittings on Tuesday, January 13th, and with
a brief interval sat till Thursday, the 22d. There were present during
those sittings some sixty members, including the missionaries of the
Friends’ Association, our brethren in the country stations of Imerina,
and two brethren from the Betsileo. One half the members were ladies,
who took much interest in the discussions, and attended the meetings
with great regularity. The daily devotional service proved very pleasant
and profitable to all. The harmony that prevailed was delightful; the
discussions were active and lively: the papers read were full of
information, and the conclusions reached were all but unanimous.
I need not enter into detail respecting the important questions
considered during this Conference. There were six points, however, lying
at the very centre of the present system of operations, on which
considerable advance was made, to which I must make brief reference.
_a._ In Education, it was desired that the Theological Institution
should take men for short courses as well as the long, full course; that
it should be enlarged so as to be a “College” for general instruction,
with good English classes; and that the best congregational schools
should teach English to their topmost classes in order to feed it. Great
anxiety was expressed to improve the congregational schools.
_b._ It was resolved, that it would improve Pastoral and Episcopal work,
to concentrate it more fully at certain points; to establish a good
Central Station in every district, with three or four Sub-Centres: that
it would be well to make preaching at those centres more full and
systematic; and to have Bible Classes, few but taught with great
regularity.
_c._ New districts in the country were desired on all hands: and that
the men appointed to them should leave the capital and occupy them
without delay.
_d._ Great anxiety was evinced to watch over the admission of members to
the native churches; by firm discipline to reduce the present excessive
numbers; to enlighten the churches as to their responsibilities; and to
improve the present forms of worship.
_e._ While desirous to secure the voluntary gifts and willing service of
the churches, as hitherto, the Conference were fully of opinion that the
local gifts are not sufficient, and the true zealous Christians are not
numerous enough, to sustain the well-trained evangelists and native
missionaries needful for the mission; and that additional money help is
needed from England, to be employed on the healthy conditions laid down
by our Directors.
_f._ All were anxious that the mission should seriously take up new work
at definite points among new tribes, as the churches also need an outlet
for their zeal.
There yet remained to apply our discussions to the actual improvement of
our own mission in detail. Hence naturally followed a District Committee
Meeting, which with its sub-committees, sat five days. The meeting was a
thoroughly good one and got through a great amount of solid work. The
brethren in many respects placed the mission in Imerina on a broader
basis than before; they adopted some important principles as elements of
the system on which it shall be instructed; and they agreed so to locate
themselves in country stations, as both to spread their influence over a
wider area, and to make the labours of each co-operate with the efforts
of all around him. And now that the Directors in London have carefully
reviewed, extended and confirmed their recommendations, the great
purpose had in view in the recent enlargement of the Madagascar Mission,
and the fuller scale of expenditure for which the Society’s friends made
provision, will speedily be carried into effect.
The Conference meetings were concluded with a little entertainment to
which Mr. and Mrs. Pillans and myself invited all the members. It was
held in the Andohalo school-room and proved a great success. Tables,
tea-trays and crockery were willingly lent on every hand; the ladies
of the various missions were exceedingly kind, both in superintending
previous arrangements, and aiding the tea at table: our English stores
proved most serviceable and popular. In addition to the sixty members
of Conference, we had present six of the principal officers of
Government, and seven of the chief native ministers: we were
seventy-eight in all. After our little feast was over, we had some
capital speaking and some good singing, for about three hours. The
native guests liked this part of our entertainment extremely; at their
own feasts they simply eat for a couple of hours or so and then go
home. But here there was much cordial fellowship; the singing was
inspiriting; the speaking dealt with lofty topics and was full of life
and power: they were quite stirred by it and did their own part well.
Eloquently did Andriambelo contrast the present with the “dark days”
gone by. And heartily did Ravonináhitriniarivo (the head of one of the
recent expeditions) express his thanks to their friends “over the sea”
for the great things which they had done for Madagascar.
Soon after these consultations an event occurred which threw strong
light on the inner life of the people generally and on the religious
feelings and principles lying below its surface. After long waiting
there arrived in the capital a consignment of the reprint of the
Malagasy Bible, just prepared by the British and Foreign Bible Society.
It proved a neat, handy volume, and there were six thousand copies.
Looking at the value attached to a shilling by the Malagasy, it was
resolved to sell the Bible for that sum. The people were greatly excited
by the news of its arrival: the Depository was besieged by applicants
from the Queen downwards: and in a fortnight they were gone. Mr. Grainge
felt sure that if he had had six thousand more, every copy would have
been sold. Many of these Bibles were purchased by people in the capital
for their friends in distant parts of the country.
In the four churches erected in memory of the Christian martyrs, and on
the places where they were put to death, the Directors and friends of
the Society in England have taken a deep interest. In that interest my
colleague and I heartily shared, and it was a peculiar pleasure to us to
visit these buildings and to hear over again from the lips of preachers
and friends the story of the fidelity and the suffering of which they
are a memorial. Our first Sabbath service in Antanánarivo was in the
Ambátonakánga church in the centre of the city. We joined the meetings
of the Congregational Union of Imérina in the church at Ambóhipotsy. The
general Conference was held at Fáravohitra. And we were privileged to
share in the opening services of the church at Ampamarínana which was
completed during our visit. All these buildings are of stone; they are
great ornaments to the city; and they do great credit to the three
gentlemen who have superintended their erection. They are much admired
by the natives: and they have exercised a most powerful influence in
stimulating those improvements in building, which have distinguished the
city during the last ten years. A fifth Memorial Church, which will
render the list complete is now in course of erection. The Norwegian
Missionaries have also erected a large church near Ambátonákánga, with a
highly original spire. But these are not the only churches of importance
in the city. So far as the congregations are concerned there are five
other churches whose members are as numerous and influential as these:
while in the immediate suburbs some five or six more exist, whose
congregations are large. Including the Royal Chapel in which there is
now a fully organised Christian Church, there are not less than sixteen
churches in the city, which have sprung from the Mission and gather
large congregations of sincere and faithful worshippers every
Sabbath-day. All the principal families of the Imerina province are
directly or indirectly connected with them: while others will be found
in the churches of Náméhana, Ambohimánga, Ambátománga, and other
flourishing towns: and there are two congregations even in the old idol
town of Ambohimánambola. None can look upon the great transformation
which the city and province have undergone in recent years without
exclaiming “What hath God wrought?”
The fourth Memorial Church was opened (as I have said) during our visit:
and we held it a high privilege to share in the public services held
upon the occasion. The 28th of March 1874, was the twenty-fifth
anniversary of the terrible occasion on which the four nobles had been
burned at Faravohitra, and fourteen others had been thrown over the
cliffs of Ampamarinana: and it was resolved formally to open the church
at the latter spot and dedicate it to purposes of public worship on that
day. The church which, with the rocks beneath, appears in the
frontispiece, is a handsome building; the campanile tower stands well
out at the north-east corner, and the wheel windows with their stained
glass add much to the beauty of the interior. Large congregations
gathered to the services both on the Saturday and on the following day:
and the people manifested the deepest interest in them. Indeed on the
Sunday afternoon the church was crowded to its utmost. Many members of
the martyrs’ families were present. Others were there who had seen them
carried along the road. One was present who had officially shared in
their condemnation. These faithful witnesses whom nothing daunted, whose
peace nothing could disturb, occupied the first place in every one’s
thought; and their fidelity, their patient endurance, the uses of
suffering and God’s blessing on faithfulness were the topics made
specially prominent in our addresses, hymns and prayers.
The treatment of the matter in these public services required care: and
the members of the ruling family had many fears respecting it. The Queen
is a Christian: the principal nobles are Christians: they could not but
admire with us the principle and the faith of the sufferers whose death
that day brought to mind. But the persecutor, through whose stern
attachment to the national idols the martyrs had lost their lives, was
the present Queen’s aunt, and was her predecessor on a throne, whose
edicts have always been regarded by the Malagasy with profound respect.
It could not but be painful to the Queen to hear that anything hard or
harsh was spoken of her aunt, even on so sacred a matter as this. We
felt the difficulty: and from the high regard in which the Queen and
those around her are held, it was agreed that scarcely any reference
should be made to the chief mover in the sorrows of the past: but that
we should dwell prominently if not exclusively upon the martyrs
themselves. The course pursued was privately reported to the authorities
by some who were present at the services: and evidently gave them
satisfaction. So great is the revolution in the nation, so completely
has the rule of the idols and diviners passed away, that the injustice
and the mistakes of the wrongdoers may well be forgotten and forgiven.
As if to teach us this lesson, during the last few years, the rocks over
which the sufferers were thrown, have been thickly overgrown with dense
masses of the prickly pear cactus. And while their ashes rest in peace
under the shadow of the Memorial Church, and the grass is green upon
their grave, myriads of scarlet flowers bloom above the rocks once
stained with their blood, and cover them with a mantle of beauty fresh
from the hand of God.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER VI.
THE LAND AND THE PEOPLE OF MADAGASCAR.
The East Coast of the Island—The West Coast—Travels of M.
Grandidier—Maps of Madagascar—Mr. Cameron’s Survey—Additions made by
us—Size of Madagascar—The Mountain-mass along its centre—Terraces on
all sides—The Malagasy people a single race—Their Three Tribes and
their Sub-divisions—The Malagasy not an African race—Their Malay
origin—Evidence supplied by their Language—New Words from Arabic,
French and English—Reference to Madagascar by Marco Paolo—Early
Navigation of the Eastern Seas very extensive—Phœnician, Hindu,
Chinese and Malay—Madagascar colonised by Malays—Three independent
Movements—Traditions of the Hovas—Their Arrival in Imerina—Conquest
of the Vazimba—Increase in Imerina—Their recent History—Ralambo and
his Descendants—Impóin and his consolidation of the
Kingdom—Radáma—State of the Country, of Social Life and of the
Sakalava Tribes in his day—The people still a federation of
tribes—Their Institutions—Their steady growth in Civilisation, as
well as in Religious Character.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER VI.
THE LAND AND THE PEOPLE OF MADAGASCAR.
COMPARATIVELY little has hitherto been written on the geography of
Madagascar. French travellers and English officers, as well as
missionaries, have landed on the east coast and have journeyed up to the
Capital: and the character of the country along their route has been
fully and frequently described. The eastern coast of the island has
hitherto been better known to us than any other portion. The splendid
Bay of Diego Suarez; the wooded promontory on the east of Antongil Bay;
the colony of Benyowsky and the Isle of Ste. Marie; Foule Point and
Tamatave; the lake of Nósibé and the lagoons which follow it;
Andevoranto and Máhanóro and Mánanzára; the limestone cliffs of Anósy,
the rich vale of Ambólo, and the settlement of Port Dauphin; these are
the points referred to by successive writers from Flacourt downwards:
and all that needs to be said about them will be found carefully
compiled in Ellis’s History of Madagascar, written nearly forty years
ago.
Of the western part of Madagascar we know very little; though from the
breadth and richness of its provinces we should like to know a great
deal. Mr. Boothby in the time of Charles I. and Drury, in the days of
Queen Anne, give us information respecting St. Augustine’s Bay. Captain
Owen and the officers of the English navy, who in 1824 laid down so much
of the coast line, have dwelt upon the great harbours of the north-west.
To M. Guillain we are indebted for information respecting the same
quarter, the island of Nosibé, the Hova settlements near Pasandava Bay,
the town and port of Mojangá, and the Sákaláva districts as far as
Morondáva; and we owe much to Mr. Lyons Macleod, formerly Consul at
Mozambique, and still more to Mr. Ellis’s History, for giving us a
summary of this information. During his visits to the island, Mr. Ellis
scarcely touched the question of its geography; he took no observations
and prepared no maps: though to the botany of the island and to the
facts connected with the moral condition of the people he added greatly.
The traveller who has seen most of Madagascar previous to our visit is
M. Grandidier. This gentleman spent several years in the island between
1865 and 1870; and devoted much time and strength to the examination of
several of its districts. He lived for a considerable time on the
north-east and the west coasts: he travelled up from Mojangá to the
Capital; crossed the island through the Betsileo province; and visited
the almost unknown district of the Sihánaka tribe. His observations have
not yet been given to the world; he has read to the Geographical Society
of Paris, and has published, a sketch of his travels; and has published
a general map of the island on a moderate scale, far more correct than
anything which has preceded it. But the geographical world yet waits for
the complete story, which he promises them in ten or twelve volumes. He
was well known to our missionaries and respected by them.
All recent maps of Madagascar (except Grandidier’s) are traceable to two
sources. The coast line was laid down by Capt. Owen and his companions
in 1824. The detail of the interior is derived from the map of Colonel
Lloyd, published in 1849 by Mr. Arrowsmith: and Colonel Lloyd’s memoir
on the geography of the island will be found in vol. xx. of the Royal
Geographical Society’s Journal. In regard to this map Colonel Lloyd
says: “The coast line may be depended on as tolerably exact, having been
reduced from the various nautical surveys. For the detail of the
interior I cannot claim the slightest pretensions to correctness. It is
only an attempt to form approximately some foundation for future
inquiries, and more correct and extensive research.” Notwithstanding
this frank disclaimer, editors and writers have gone on copying this map
down to the present time.
In this important matter I have felt personally interested for several
years. Anxious at one time to provide for the Directors a good map of
the interior, we found that exact details were wanting. We knew the
names of prominent mountains, rivers and stations, but where to place
them no one could say. The Directors then applied to our missionaries in
the island: and several excellent journals and sketch maps were
communicated in reply. The principal contribution to our effort was
this. Mr. Cameron the senior member of the mission, after carefully
fixing the position of Antanánarivo, commenced a triangulation of the
plain of Imerina: and step by step prepared a most valuable map of those
portions of the province contiguous to the capital: the defect of the
map was, that though it indicated the chief positions, it did not
exhibit the form and height of the ground.
Aware that part of our duty would require us to visit the whole of the
central portions of the island, my colleague and I prepared to take
advantage of our opportunities and add something at least to the
knowledge of these provinces possessed by the geographical world. We
carried out our purpose under the happiest auspices. We were everywhere
received as friends. We invariably informed the Prime Minister of our
movements and proceedings; we were at liberty to go where we liked, and
we experienced nothing but hospitality and kindness. By special
permission we photographed the Queen’s Palace and the Royal tombs; we
planted our theodolite, compass and tripods on the tops of hills and in
the open markets; and we let every one know that we were anxious to make
a correct map of the country for their use as well as ours.
In the first instance we worked on Mr. Cameron’s lines. We went over a
great portion of his work; revised it from our own observations; and
extended it in all directions. To the north-west we laid down Vonizongo
as far as the population extends. West and south-west we carried the
survey to Ambohiveloma; over all Imamo, to Lake Itásy and the districts
of Mándridráno and Menabé. Thence we passed it through Betáfo and
Sirabé: enclosed the Ankárat mountains within it and measured their
height. With Mr. Cameron himself, as I have already shown, we continued
the survey down the Betsileo Province to its southern end. Eastward we
laid down Angávo, the moors of Ambátoména, the plain of Ankay, and the
Sihánaka Lakes. And finally by a route lying west of that taken by M.
Grandidier, we went down to the sea at Mojangá. The work proved most
enjoyable. We followed up the country step by step, greatly aided by the
numerous conspicuous hills, with whose names and appearance we soon grew
perfectly familiar. The MAP which accompanies this little volume is one
result of our work: and the red lines which mark our routes upon it will
show how fully we traversed the country and how much of it we saw with
our own eyes.
Much of the information acquired in our journeys will be found in the
several chapters which describe them, and which the various sections of
the map are intended to illustrate. It will suffice therefore here to
indicate the general structure and character of the island. The
navy-surveys show that the island of MADAGASCAR has a length of 818
geographical miles, measuring from Cape Ambro on the north to Cape St.
Mary’s on the south. The position of the former is in lat. 12° 2′ S.:
that of the latter is lat. 25° 40′ S. The greatest breadth of the island
from Cape St. Andrew to Tamatave is 354 miles: the longitudes of these
two points being, long. 44° 30′ E. and long. 49° 28′ 30″ E.
respectively. These longitudes have been fixed by reference to the
Observatory in Cape Town. The island is a long oval, pointed at the
northern end; and its major axis lies in the direction of N. 16° E.
While a crevasse and channel of great depth separate it from the
continent of Africa, the Farquhar Islands, at its north end, the
Séchelles with their red clay, and the coral reefs in the Indian Ocean
seem to me to connect its granite hills with the Laccadive and Maldive
Islands and with the mighty forces which in Southern India threw into
their present position the Nilgiri and Kunda hills. The island was
probably the noblest portion of some great continent which stretched
away from Hindustan to the south-west; and which shared in the tropical
flora and fauna of India in an early stage of the earth’s history, and
was separated from it while both were still young.
The chief physical feature of Madagascar is the central mountain mass,
which commences with lofty mountains at the north end of the island, and
retains them till within a moderate distance of its southern cape. The
entire central line is high ground and only its two sides are level
plains along the east and west sea-coasts. The central mass is by no
means uniform in its appearance. We have already shown how, on ascending
to the interior from the east coast, the traveller meets and
successively mounts three lofty mountain walls, each supporting a broad
terrace behind it. The first of these, west of Ampásimbé, rises 900
feet: beyond Befórona, the second terrace is 1400 feet higher: the third
ascent at Angávo carried us up 1620 feet on to the highest part of the
Imerina plain. The central plateau has a general height of 4000 feet: at
its widest part it is ninety miles in width; in the narrowest it is
about thirty miles. This plateau is somewhat over two hundred
geographical miles in length. It abounds in ridges and detached hills of
gneiss and granite, which give wonderful variety to the scenery; and at
several points these rocks spread out in wide, lofty and barren moors.
The rugged ridges enclose broad basins of the sedimentary clay, and the
numerous streams of pure water furnish abundant sustenance for the rice
crops, which form the principal food of the people. As this central
level is reached by great terraces from the east, so on the north, south
and west, the traveller descends from it on to other terraces, going
gradually lower and lower, until he reaches the level of the sea. It was
a matter of deep interest to Mr. Pillans and myself that we descended on
to the first terrace at several points; at Ambohimandroso, beyond Lake
Itasy, and in the valley of Ankay, before we finally followed down the
entire series of steps on our way to Mojangá. The fact that to so large
an extent the island consists of red clay, and appears to have been at
some time perfectly buried in it, accounts for the peculiar form of its
terraces and of the basins which they sustain. The enormous volcanic
forces hereafter to be described may have been required to break the
granite rocks and render them available for the use of men: but water
has exerted a mighty agency likewise on the island: and whether by rains
or streams or waterspouts, in the bursting of lakes or by gentle
showers, during long, long ages it has been ploughing and moulding and
shaping the land, and it is moulding and shaping and beautifying it
still.
The Malagasy people who inhabit the island appear to be a single race,
notwithstanding some tradition about “dwarfs.” Nowhere do we find any
tribe or clan or race in any secluded corner of the land, (such as we
meet with in the hill districts of India, of Sumatra and Borneo),
totally different from the inhabitants of the plains or open provinces.
Nor do we meet with any portion of the people specially degraded below
their fellows as a conquered and despised race. So far as known the
people of the entire island are in most respects similar to one another;
and sixty years ago they stood more on a common level than they do now.
The main differences at present existing between one portion and another
are the result of Christian education and of compact, just and settled
government.
There is undoubtedly one distinction which may be drawn among the
Malagasy; they may be divided into the dark and fair tribes. From the
first writers on Madagascar have referred to this difference between
them. But in the face of important points of agreement I think too much
has been made of it. It is well known to residents in India, that low,
hot, saline and malarious districts tend to darken the olive complexion;
while dry, open, cooler plains, tend to bleach it and render it fair.
Now it is the coast tribes of Madagascar, inhabiting the hot, feverish
provinces, which have the dark skin: while those which occupy the
central plateau with its bracing air, are, in general, fair. Other
considerations must be looked to: and I find them in the dialects
spoken; and in the course taken by the movements and migration of the
tribes as they gradually occupied the island. In regard to these matters
several mistakes have been made by various writers.
Judging from the movements of the tribes and from their present
relations to one another, it seems to me that the Malagasy are divided
into three tribes, starting from different centres, and inhabiting
separate districts. The BETSIMISARAKA tribe and its offshoots occupy the
east coast and its two lower terraces. The SAKALAVAS hold the broad
plains of the west coast in all its length, and overlap the upper
extremity of the north-east coast. The HOVAS and their branches inhabit
the entire central plateau, and the flanks of its southern extremity.
The Betsimisárakas include the Sihánakas, the people of Ankáy, and (I
think also) the Tanálas, all on the higher terrace between the lines of
forest. These upper divisions of the tribe have separate names; but they
are merely expressive of the localities to which the people have
migrated. The Betániménas are those who occupy the “districts of red
clay.” The Tanálas are the people of “the forest districts.” The Tankays
live “in Ankay,” the “open land”; not concealed by or broken by long
hills. The Sihánakas are (as we shall see) “the people of the lakes.” In
no part of the country occupied by this tribe is the population
concentrated and numerous: all their districts are thinly peopled.
Important mistakes have been made in regard to these subdivisions. Both
the Sihánakas and the Bezánozáno of Ankay have been described as
Sákalávas. But a visit to the districts which they inhabit shows at once
that with the Sakalavas they have nothing to do. They are shut off from
the latter by all but impassable mountains. They are Betsimisárakas in
their houses, their dialects, and the dressing of their hair: and an
examination of the country plainly indicates the points on the east
coast, from which their people started. In regard to the still greater
error of regarding the entire Betsimisáraka people as half-breed Arabs,
there is even less to be said. The statement must have originated in
some mistake. It might apply to a few people in and around the Arab
colony of St. Mary’s; but it is wholly inapplicable to the entire people
of the east coast.
The Sákalávas are also divided into tribes: but there is little cohesion
amongst them; they live separate from one another, and have frequent
petty wars. Their numbers cannot be great, though they occupy a large
tract of rich tropical country, which under a settled government and in
diligent hands would yield vast quantities of produce. They have for
ages been at feud with their Hova neighbours, ever ready to carry off
their cattle and plunder their farmsteads and fields. The name they
bear, “the tall cats,” is a complimentary title given by their Hova
foes, who have found them as fierce and formidable with the ancient
weapons as any wild cat to be met with in the woods. The Sakalávas have
not been slow to return the compliment; and they contemptuously style
the Hovas _ambóalámbo_, a mixture of the dog and the boar, “a set of
vagabonds.”
The HOVAS proper now occupy all the northern portion of the central
plateau, whether Vonizongo, Imámo or other districts. And though at one
time it was usual to describe their province as Ankova, in recent days
the tendency has been to drop this term altogether, and to call the
entire Hova country, IMERINA. The Betsileo tribe are without doubt of
the same blood as the Hovas. The Ibára tribe, who live south and west of
the Betsileo, are (as I have shown) kindred to the Betsileo. Each of
these sections of the central population has grown numerous, has had its
separate interests, and has been at feud with its fellows. Nevertheless
many similarities of language, dress, customs and manners exist between
them. And the differences are no greater than those which divide them
from the other tribes of the island. Politically these tribes are
drawing nearer to each other under Hova rule; and these similarities
will be increased and developed rather than repressed.
In the important inquiry whence the Malagasy have come and with what
other branches of the human race they are connected, the evidence
supplied by their language is of the first importance. Naturally it
might have been expected that living so near to the continent of Africa,
they would be connected with the African tribes; or at least that some
of their settlements would have been founded by African colonists. And
among scholars there have not been wanting those who have argued warmly
that they are substantially an African people. The views of the late Mr.
Crawford on this point are well known. He argued that the Malagasy are
substantially a negrillo race; with woolly hair, African blood and an
inability to form an alphabet: that Malay pirates, blown away from the
eastward, had mingled with them and left their mark upon the language;
and so on. He has been followed by Mr. Wake and others in recent days.
Even on theory it might have been objected that the African tribes are
not navigators, and that the Mozambique channel with its strong currents
and stronger south-east winds must have been, as it still is, a
formidable barrier against intercourse between these tribes and
Madagascar. But in point of fact there is no tribe on the island (so far
as it has yet been examined) which can be shown to be substantially
African, in its language, its features, its habits, its relations to its
neighbours. There are pure Africans in abundance (as we shall see)
scattered about in certain districts on the west, imported through the
Arab slave trade. And that African element has tainted the original
Malagasy race. But no original and distinct tribe on the island has yet
been pointed out as long settled African colonists: much less can the
entire Malagasy people be identified with such a tribe. On the contrary
the three great divisions of the Malagasy hold together; embrace almost
the entire island; and their language and tribal customs suggest a
totally different direction as to their origin.
In illustration of this unity of the races now occupying Madagascar, I
have noted with interest that the names given to localities in all parts
of the island, Sakaláva, Betsimisáraka and Hóva are of the same
character; and are plainly derived from the present Malagasy language.
Many of the Sakaláva names are distinctly Hóva. Off the north-west coast
we find Nosibe, “big island,” Nosikomba, “monkey island,” and Nosifály,
“glad island;” we have Ampásiména, “red sand village;” Mároláhy, “the
village of princes,” and Andránomaláza, “famous water.” We have
Márovoáy, with its “many crocodiles,” Mojangá “the restorer of health,”
and Mevatanána “good place for a town.” On the west coast we have
Máintiráno, “the black river,” Mafándráno, “hot springs,” and Mámiráno
“sweet waters.” We have one town, Mánandáza “the glorious,” and another,
Malaimbándy “the place of indolent lies.” We have Fierénana in Vonizongo
and on the Sakalava coast. We have the pass of Ambodifiakárana among the
limestone ridges of the Sakalavas, and under the granite moors on the
Mania. Hundreds of names are scattered over the east and west coasts,
bearing a striking similarity to those of the interior, and applied as
fittingly to the places which they indicate. The names and the people
are evidently one.
Baron Humboldt, the linguist, long since detected the Malay element in
their language. Other writers have followed him. And the more
attentively and completely the subject is examined the stronger will the
evidence of that origin appear. Unhappily such a complete examination
has not yet been made. Malay scholars have but partially understood
Malagasy: and Malagasy scholars have looked but little into Malay. And
we know scarcely more than was written by the Rev. J. J. Freeman, forty
years ago. Yet the materials are beginning to accumulate out of which
the comparison may be made in full detail. Besides Marsden’s Grammar and
Dictionary, in Crawford’s Malay Grammar, in Wallace’s Eastern
Archipelago, in the Appendix of Dr. Turner’s “Nineteen Years in
Polynesia,” there are lists of words and idioms in the Malay and its
cognate dialects, Samoan, Máori and Tahitian, available for the
discussion of the question: and ere long we may hope to see it
undertaken thoroughly. I have no pretensions to a knowledge of either
tongue. But it happens that during my visit to Madagascar unpublished
papers from competent men came into my hands, and I will venture to give
a few illustrations which they furnish of the connection between the two
languages. Mr. Freeman observes with interest that it is the
Betsimisáraka edition of Malagasy which comes nearest to the Malay; and
it is the Maláya branch of the language, rather than Javanese or Báli,
which comes closest to Malagasy. Here is a simple list of twenty words.
ENGLISH. MALAY. MALAGASY.
crocodile buáya voáya.[1]
bone tulang taolang. (Bets.
fly lálat lálitra.
fruit búa vóa.
ground tánah tány.
grow támboh mi-tombo.
hand tángan tángana. (Bets.
heaven lángit langitra. (Bets.
hang gantong mi-hantona.
fear tákut tahotra.
moon bolan vólana.
stone bátu váto.
year tahun táona.
spirits túaka tóaka.
mosquito nya-mók móka.
two dúa róa.
four ámpat éfat-ra.
six ánam énina.
ten sa-puloh folo.
twenty dua-puloh roa-polo.
thousand sa-riba arivo.
Footnote 1:
The o in Malagasy is pronounced like the Italian u. This arrangement
was a fatal mistake in the early writers of the language; and is
calculated to mislead any one outside the island. Hova ought to have
been written Húva.
In their structure and government the two languages resemble one
another: but the Malay seems a less formed and complete tongue than the
Malagasy. Both languages have the inclusive and exclusive pronouns: and
the same form is used in the nominative and objective cases. In both
reduplication is common. The prefixes through which the verb is
conjugated, though differing slightly in form, constantly bear the same
meaning in Malay as in Malagasy and are used in the same way. In both
cases the same sort of improvement was needed: and came from the same
source. The Arab traders gave to each people the names of the days of
the week and of the months of the year. The scales for weighing money
are Arabic, mizán. The word for writing, sóratra, seems Arabic also.
Additional improvement to the Malagasy came from their intercourse with
the French, who in the course of many years’ visits to the coasts of the
island, introduced new articles to their notice, which are still called
by their French names. At least seventy French words have become
naturalised in Malagasy and that in very curious fashion. The young
Malagasy now sits upon a _seza_, in front of _látábat-ra_; his rice is
brought from the _lákozy_, and he eats his beef with a _fórisét-y_. He
wipes his face with a _mósara_, washes his hands with _sávona_, and
dries them on a _sáriveta_. He keeps his clothes in a _lálamóra_
(armoire); rides forth on his _soavály_; and wears patent-leather
_bóty_.
* * * * *
The colonisation of Madagascar by the Malay tribes is a topic full of
interest: but we know almost nothing about it. It is singular that in
the very first mention made of the island, the celebrated notice of it
by Marco Paolo, he should have made a strange mistake and mixed it with
information which belongs to the Somali country around Cape Gardafui.
Madagascar has neither elephants nor hippopotami; neither leopards nor
bears nor lions. Nevertheless it is evident that the great traveller
learned something real about the island, and of that aspect of it which
was specially presented to the great sailors of his time, the Arab and
Persian traders, whose fathers had visited it for many ages. Sandal wood
is still exported from the northern ports; and the Hindus carry on “a
profitable trade.” I do not think that the people whom Fra Mauro speaks
of as blown away to the southward were connected with the original
settling of Madagascar by the Malays: the accident he describes seems to
me of much later date than that settlement; and that it happened to
Indian traders who were sailing down the African coast. When they were
blown back again, they may have seen shells of the Œpyornis, on the
sandy terrace at the south-east end of Madagascar, where M. Grandidier
found both shells and bones. Fra Mauro does not say that they saw the
living birds. Sindbad’s additions about the elephants and the jewels are
applications of “travellers’ tales” and traditions floating about the
nautical world long before his day.
That in early times there should have been a Malay immigration into
Madagascar is nothing strange. Every thing new which we are learning
about the Indian Ocean and the China Sea tends to show how boldly and
continuously those seas were traversed before the Christian era.
Phœnician navigation, both from the Red Sea and the Persian Gulf, was
ably carried out even in the time of Solomon; and the evidence is
accumulating that their colonies, trading settlements, and ports of call
were established along all the African and Indian coasts before the
Ptolemies had ceased to rule. They had long since learned the regularity
of the monsoons and decided how to employ them; Zanzibar and its
neigbourhood had become the head-quarters of the Central African trade;
and every year a great fleet crossed the Indian ocean from the ports of
Gujerat and Malabar with the north-east monsoon. What was a twenty days’
voyage before a fair and steady breeze, to men accustomed to the sea, in
large vessels of three hundred and eight hundred tons, such as the
Alexandrian corn ships or the buggalows of the Gulf of Cutch, with their
strong masts, long yard, and huge sails? To me it seems that they
mastered the navigation early: its continuity was never broken till
Albuquerque and Almeida took it with violence from their hands: and I
venture to think that in the Arab merchants of these Eastern seas, with
their Khojah friends in Western India and the “Old Man of the Mountain,”
at their head, we have the lineal descendants, in blood and language and
employment, of the Phœnicians of ancient times.
Able navigation was not confined to the waters of the Indian Ocean. We
know how before the Christian era Hindu merchants and sailors traversed
the Bay of Bengal, passed the Straits of Malacca and had flourishing
settlements, temples and palaces in Bali and the great islands of the
Java Sea. The Malay races in those islands had already proved themselves
adventurous navigators. We do not know how early they left their mark on
all the eastern kingdoms of the Bay of Bengal; on Ceylon, which was to
them _Pulo Selán_ “the island of gems;” and at various points along the
coasts of India, as far west as Gujerat. The Chinese too have not been
behindhand with their well-built vessels and the compass which they
first employed to direct them. Long, long were they at work, before they
had formed and perfected the enormous junks which so delighted Marco
Paolo, with their well-caulked seams, their fifteen watertight
compartments, their fifty cabins, their three hundred sailors and
numerous families of women and children: ready to undertake long
coasting voyages, or even run up the Straits to Ceylon, or visit the
three Ports of India which they loved, and from which they were driven
only four hundred years ago. The very finest of these vessels belonged,
not to the northern ports of China, but to the harbours of Siam. Among
all the Hindu and Arab vessels I have seen at Zanzibar, Calcutta and
Bombay, none equalled in size and strength of build the noble Siamese
junks, which I once found at anchor, after their annual voyage
northward, in the bends of the Peiho. It is when these pursuits are in
full activity that ability in their management is developed in its
highest forms. And what more natural than that among these Arab and
Siamese and Malay navigators there should appear, from time to time, men
of genius to shape out new enterprises: or that among their chiefs and
people there should arise another Prince Henry or Queen Elizabeth or
Ferdinand and Isabella, to foster and encourage them?
Anyhow there the Malagasy are; a Malay people, following Malay customs,
some of them possessing Malay eyes and hair and features; and all of
them speaking a Malay tongue at the present hour. When they came, where
they landed, what hindered their return, we know not. Was some large
vessel caught in a furious cyclone and driven ashore? Were the first
colonists few or many? Did they communicate with their friends and get
others to join them? Were several settlements established at different
points: was the colonisation continuous: if so, over how many years did
it spread? Did Malay navigation extend to the east coast of Africa, and
are Zambesi, Kilimány, Mombása, Kiloa, Masambika and other names there,
of Malay origin, as Mr. Freeman suggested?
Judging from modern results, I incline to think that the original
colonisation was not extensive; that the trade was found not to be
remunerative; while navigation so far to the south was found to have
special perils; and that the connecting link between Madagascar and
Great Malaya was early severed. The population has increased but slowly
during these long ages. Even now the Betsimisáraka tribes in their five
divisions only just exceed a quarter of a million: the scattered
Sákalávas, even in their wide and fertile plains, contentious and ever
at feud with one another, cannot exceed half a million. The three Hova
divisions are strongest in numbers, in civilisation and resources
generally, and yet amount to less than a million and three-quarters
altogether.
Hitherto the various writers on Madagascar in describing the population
have all followed Mr. Ellis’s estimate of forty years ago. That
estimate, amounting to 5,500,000, appears to be wholly inapplicable to
the present day. It was to a large extent guess work, and included
districts which had then scarcely been visited by an Englishman. I speak
of the population, as (to a large extent) I saw it; and I estimate it as
follows:—
POPULATION OF MADAGASCAR.
1. BETSIMISARAKAS, including— 300,000
Sihánakas, 40,000; Tanálas,
20,000; Tankays, 50,000;
Ikongos, 20,000
2. SAKALAVAS, North and South 500,000
3. HOVAS and Cognate Tribes:—
Imerina and Vonizongo 1,000,000
Imámo and Mandridrano 100,000
Betafo and Vákin ’Ankárat 100,000
Betsileo 300,000
Ibára, &c. 200,000
————— 1,700,000
—————
TOTAL 2,500,000
The results at present produced show at least three independent
movements in the settlement of the island. The Betsimisárakas have lived
a quiet life on the east coast, quite independent of the other tribes,
and have quietly spread up the hills into the Tanála, the Sihánaka and
Ankáy. And they have preserved in simple fashion the rough tongue of
their forefathers in Sumatra. Whether the Sakalavas are one people, or
have sprung from more than one colony, north and south, we know not.
They have had constant wars with their neighbours above the hills, as
well as among themselves. A dread of their courage and skill in war has
established between them and those neighbours a Noman’s land of fifty or
sixty miles in breadth. And their movements and their history seem to
have been all along independent of others.
The only traditions and remnants of past history come from the HOVAS,
who also have been independent, and who having found opportunities of
development not possessed by their fellows, have come to the front among
the Malagasy tribes. They tell us how their original settlement was in
the south-east of the island: when commenced, how developed, lasting how
long, they do not know. Results show that here they became a strong
people; and swarming off, they began to push their way up into the
hills. Evidently they entered the upper plateau at its south-east
corner; and while the foremost of the tribe pushed on, other branches
gradually springing from it, and now named Betsileo and Ibára, filled in
the districts behind. The advanced Hovas seem to have reached Imerina
about eight hundred years ago. For perhaps a hundred and twenty years
they were on friendly terms with a tribe which they found there, if not
actually subject to them.
This tribe they call Vazimba. In the present day they talk of them as
their ancestors; in the idolatrous days they were deified; and their
tombs are still the most sacred objects in the country. Happily the Hova
traditions give us the names of seven Vazimba kings. These names are as
genuine specimens of Malagasy as the Hova names themselves. The Vazimba
tombs are of the shape and structure of the usual Hova tombs, though of
rude work and rough stones. So far therefore as we know anything about
the Vazimba, they were a true Malagasy people: there is nothing African
about them.
After a while the Vazimba and the strangers quarrelled. Contests arose
and the Vazimba were driven out of the province; “to the south-west”
says the story; and that means “into the unknown.” This superiority of
the strangers, says tradition, was due to their use of iron. Whether
they had iron while on the coast; whether their fathers had brought and
retained any knowledge of its use; or whether they had learned it from
their Arab friends and neighbours at Mátitánana: whether they had
supplied themselves with iron-headed spears during their march up the
Betsileo; or had only produced them on arriving in Imerina, from the
iron hills of Amóronkáy, it is now impossible to say. But in the
assertion that they knew the use of iron, while their opponents had only
spears of wood, there is nothing improbable.
They made Imerina and all the upper plateau their own. And here for five
hundred years they settled down and spread and grew. They ate, they
drank; they planted, they builded; they spun and they wove; they married
and were given in marriage. They formed the iron hatchet and the iron
spade. They cut down the forests and built houses, well framed, well
fitted, with roofs that successfully shed the rain. They built villages
and towns; surrounded them with deep ditches and protected them with the
cactus hedge. They grew into compact tribes, obedient to their chief and
his appointed officers. The members of the tribe met in council; and in
the public assemblies, not only maintained their liberties, but
developed the powers and the resources of their mellifluous language.
They made war on their neighbours or defended themselves against attack:
their kings cemented peace by marriage alliances. They made great
feasts; and though no poetry has survived, their orators could recite
the traditions of the past: and their assemblies were enlivened with the
dance and the song. Great heroes arose among them, like Rapéto and
Ralámbo; of whom wondrous stories went abroad.
Two hundred and fifty years ago the Malagasy not only began to be better
known to the outside world, but light begins to be thrown upon their
internal growth and condition. At that period we find the Arab merchants
settled at three points on the coast and a foreign trade steadily
carried on. We find them on the east at two points. At Mátitánana they
have been settled long; they have written the Malagasy language in
Arabic characters; they have taught the tribes the Arabic names of the
week days and the months: but they have made no converts. As the first
specimens of the rukh’s egg were dug up here, it is possible that
Sindbad’s application of the old story may have been derived from some
sailor who had visited the settlement. There was another Arab colony on
the island above Tamatave, called by them Nosi Ibrahim: now known by the
French name of I. Ste Marie. Both these settlements, owing doubtless to
the Portuguese invasion of the eastern seas, were in a state of decay.
The third settlement, at what is now called Mojangá, had done better: it
was more easily accessible; it was nearer to the head quarters of the
Arab trade at Zanzibar; it was on the lee side of the island, on a
splendid bay; and both the Indian cloth trade and the traffic in slaves
were carried on under favourable conditions. More than this, able men
among the Arabs had watched their opportunities, had practically usurped
the government of the locality, and as the Sakalavás had no cohesion,
they retained their power long. At this time the trade of the Indian
Ocean was breaking up. The Portuguese had built up nothing in the place
of the power they had destroyed. The sea swarmed with adventurers:
Captain Kyd and other English pirates made Madagascar their head
quarters: and French schemers were planning and contriving settlements
on the sea board, hoping in the end to obtain possession of the island.
From all these quarters the Malagasy people gained no help. Under God’s
care in the quiet of the interior they were making steady progress. It
is evident from their traditions that two hundred and fifty years ago,
considerable strength was accumulating in the community, broader ideas
began to prevail, and efforts at closer union were put forth. Ralámbo
stands first in the new line of monarchs drawing the people onward. To
him are attributed great advance in the care of cattle, and the
establishment of the Fandroana festival. His second son, Andrianjáka, in
the days of Cromwell, founded Antanánarivo, on the hill till then called
Iálamánga. Sixty years later (about 1720), Andriamásinaválona, a man of
large mind, brought the whole of the Imerina towns under his rule. He
was a wise and thoughtful ruler, ready for great enterprises. To him is
attributed the greatest engineering work yet executed in the province,
the embankments of the river Ikopa, which prevent the annual flooding of
the great rice plain. His name is always mentioned in public kabáries
with profound respect. On his death his kingdom was broken up among his
sons; but a hundred years ago, all the twelve cities were re-united
under Impóin-Imérina, the ablest monarch of that princely line. The
border provinces also on every side felt the weight of his strong hand:
and his son Radáma, by hard fighting, long marches and untiring energy,
consolidated and extended the dominion on every side. Only the
south-west Sakalávas and Ikongo remained independent.
Even then, with all their growing energy, the Malagasy nation was still
young. Their cities were growing; the villages were becoming numerous;
and on the whole peace was maintained. But it was often broken for a
time: and the hollow valleys between the royal towns were still swamps
full of reeds, a protection to each city against its neighbours. The
rice cultivation was extending; but an immense area of the great plain
was still occupied by these great reeds, high overhead, thick, and all
but impassable. It took three days to travel from the present capital to
Ambohimanga, twelve miles to the north: the swamps were traversed in
canoes: and enemies, with spears, might be encountered at any point,
lurking in wait for prey.
In this brief sketch I cannot enter at length into the customs of these
tribes. Their ancient warfare with the thin spear and round hide shield;
their cylinder-bellows, and clay furnaces for smelting iron; their
simple looms and spindles, have all been described and pictured by Mr.
Ellis. With one thing however I was greatly struck: with their custom of
giving over to the dead in their large stone tombs, the dresses,
ornaments, furniture and possessions, which were favourites while they
lived. And I remembered how the Malay tribes of Polynesia and the North
American Indians have been accustomed to do the same. Another custom was
to exhibit by rows of cooking stones, or of bullock skulls on poles, the
extent to which the funeral feasts had been carried in honour of the
dead, and the estimation in which they were held.
The social life of the Capital at the beginning of this century, shows
in a very striking way how poor, as compared with other nations, the
civilisation of the Malagasy still was. Almost no European improvements
had reached them, except the fire-arms which they had obtained from the
coast, and which proved a powerful instrument in securing the
consolidation of the kingdom. When Le Sage visited him, Radáma was a
thorough Malagasy, in his dress, his superstitions, his house, his
habits. He was dressed in a lamba, and sat on the floor, to eat with his
hands out of a silver dish. His people were the same; and when they met
Le Sage and gave him a royal reception as the English envoy, they were
covered with silver ornaments, and shouted and danced and sang around
the strangers with truly barbaric pomp and show. In mental grasp and in
their longing for better things Radáma and his father were much beyond
all this. Radáma was a gentleman in his manners, courteous, considerate,
hospitable and kind. Both kings were wise in council, energetic in
action, eloquent in speech: both were humane in purpose, though in
despotic harshness they were often cruel; both were truthful,
straightforward, and truly anxious to improve. They were fine
illustrations of the weaknesses of Madagascar, as well as of its native
strength and native virtues.
Beneath the surface lay many proofs of the backwardness of the people.
Life and property were insecure: there was much poverty: few incentives
existed to active industry: the country was destitute of roads:
systematic travelling and intercourse between the different parts of the
country, was all but unknown. To me one of the most instructive
illustrations of the state of the island and of the relation of its
people to the world at large is furnished by an event which occurred at
this time on the north-western coast. On more than one occasion at the
end of last century the Sakalava tribes had taken advantage of small
vessels, in calm weather, had seized them, brought them to land and
burnt them for the sake of their copper and iron. Gathering together
hundreds of men, they had undertaken occasional expeditions against the
Comóro Islands and harried and robbed their people. But in 1816 they
planned a great expedition against the fort of Ibo, near Mozambique,
three hundred miles away. They gathered no less than two hundred and
fifty canoes, containing 6250 men; and set out on their expedition. They
were overtaken by a violent hurricane and only sixty-eight canoes
reached the African shore. That was in 1816. Yet it reads like a page
from Robinson Crusoe, or a story from the South Sea Islands.
I need not pursue the history. With Radáma we have reached our own
times; we have reached modern efforts, modern improvement, modern
missions. Often has the later story been written: it is told by Mr.
Sibree in his little book, and by Mr. Ellis in his “Martyr Church”
effectively and with brevity. Let us look at the people as they are. At
first sight my colleague and I thought them backward: but the more we
reflected on the past; on their complete isolation from the great world
around them; the simple frame-work and the small attainments of their
national and social life, so late as sixty years ago; the more
thoroughly we appreciated the great stride in progress which they have
taken in that brief period. Many officers of Radáma’s day are still
living, with their antiquated coats and antiquated notions; and till
very recently they have much hindered change and trammelled advance. But
solid progress has been made. It has been made in their outer life. But
best of all, it has been secured in far greater degree in their
religious character and in their moral and social habits. Indeed it is a
matter for special congratulation and thankfulness, that it is that
moral improvement which has come first; and that it is so deeply rooted
and so widely spread. The external civilisation will follow quite
rapidly enough.
In the form of their national life, the Malagasy are still a federation
of Malay tribes. Each of the greater tribes has numerous sub-divisions:
at the head of which are the noble families and princes descended from
the great chiefs of former ages. Among these the immediate descendants
of the ancient kings of all the sections and cities of old times occupy
an honoured place. The feudal rights and dignities and privileges of
these noble clans are carefully maintained, as well as their feudal
duties faithfully performed. All the commoner ranks of the people are
enrolled and included among the clients and followers of these inferior
chiefs and princes; or among the direct followers of the sovereign. All
payments for taxation within the tribes are made in kind or in feudal
service rendered. Officers are remunerated by lands or by the assignment
to them of the service of so many inferior men. Rice, sugar-cane,
lambas, firewood, beams for building, bundles of thatch, stones, pork,
beef are all rendered to them and to their superiors as part of that
service. Under the law of Ralámbo, the rump of every ox slaughtered in
the Capital is delivered to the Queen. On a message from the Queen
asking for any special form of service, local meetings are held by the
clans to arrange as to the mode of distributing it. The term used to
denote this system is _fánampóana_, which means exactly “service;” and
it bears all the variety and breadth of meaning which the English word
had in feudal times. Though having in it just elements, the system has
many weaknesses. It bears heavily upon the skilful: it is unequal in its
demands: it represses progress by taking away all stimulus to
self-improvement or to individual enterprise. It keeps society on a dead
level and fosters indolence and indifference. It will only be cured by a
fair distribution of the services required in all grades of society, and
by a commutation of the service for a fixed money payment.
In regard to legislation and general government, the Queen is the head
of all the tribes. On great questions public meetings of the tribes
(kabáries) are held: discussions take place, and the Sovereign
pronounces the decision. The Sovereign in this way enacts all laws. But
they are declared verbally by herself or some appointed officer, (as we
have seen in the Betsileo) in public meeting; and the people and their
representatives respond. Judges and magistrates, “heads of hundreds,”
and so on, are appointed to hear cases and complaints, or to examine
criminals: they sit in the open market. Many improvements are coming in
to these arrangements. The laws have been codified twice by recent
Sovereigns, and have been put in print. The Malagasy have now a “Prime
Minister,” a “Commander-in-Chief,” and a “Chief Secretary of State,”
called by the English names. And these officers, with a few others, form
a kind of inner council, who consult together about public affairs.
Formal receptions are held by the Court and affairs are conducted with
dignity and good sense.
Apart from their religious instructions, the missionaries of the London
Missionary Society have done a great deal to enlarge the general
knowledge of the people and elevate their family and social life. They
have given them new instruments for material progress, that have already
secured valuable results. They first systematically wrote down the
language: and both by learning to write and to use the press, the
government and the people have made abundant use of the new power placed
at their command. Mr. Chick, with his huge anvil and muscular arms,
astonished the people by the larger forms of iron work which he could
produce. Radáma admired him greatly. The native smiths and artisans soon
copied their master. Carpenters, builders and masons have done the same.
Perhaps the most striking improvement which has been accepted on a large
scale, is the adoption of the English dress. It took place during our
visit, in December 1873. With the approval of the people, the Queen
expressed her readiness to receive her subjects at Court dressed in
English costume. The transformation was rapid, and the demands made in
all directions for hats, bonnets, feathers, sprigs of flowers, and
ladies’ jackets was very great. Higher wants than these are being felt:
and in due time they will no doubt be supplied. Of these roads are an
important item: and the payment for service in money. And it is a happy
thing, that by improving and elevating the customs and institutions of
the country on their old lines, the stability and safety of the nation
are secured.
Things are yet very backward. But the Malagasy are an intelligent
people, an orderly people, a loyal people, a religious people. They have
learned much already: and they are improving daily. They are governed by
a good Queen and by wise and able officers. Had they at hand, in the
Capital, a wise English Consul, to advise them (when they need) in
difficulties, and to aid them in the solution of important problems
continually coming before them, their progress would be greatly
facilitated. Under such influences, secular and sacred, Hawaii, with its
sixty thousand people, has grown into a Christian nation and has taken
its place in the world’s history. Far greater will Madagascar at length
become, when elevated, sanctified and ennobled in all the elements of
its social and public life.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER VII.
LAKE ITASY AND THE VOLCANIC DISTRICT.
South Border of Imerina—Hill of Antongona—Arivonimamo, the old
Capital—Great number of beautiful hills—Miádana Manjáka—Lake
Itasy—The Mándridráno—Religious knowledge of the people—The grass of
Madagascar—Numerous craters and crater-lakes—Mahatsinjo and its
people—Vinány hill—Kitsamby river—Antoby—The Vava Vato—Norwegian
Missions—Menabe—Betafo and Sirabe—Volcanoes—Hot springs and
Limepits—Votovorona—The East of Ankárat—Andraráty—Our return—Western
Imerina—Ambohiveloma—The Fárahántsana: falls of the Ikopa.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER VII.
LAKE ITASY AND THE VOLCANIC DISTRICT.
THE season was now advancing: the dry weather had come, and in the open
parts of the country there was little fear of fever. The plans of the
mission were pretty fully shaped out: and there were important districts
which we had not yet seen. In dividing the country parts of Imerina
among the churches of the capital as spheres of Christian labour, the
south-western, the district of Imámo, had been allotted to
Ambóhitantély. This church and its branches were in the hands of the
Friends; who have given to them the most devoted care. During our visit,
one of their number, Mr. Clemes, had gone to settle at Antoby near the
end of the district. We arranged therefore that we would visit this
district first: and Mr. Joseph Sewell, the senior member of the Friends’
Mission, kindly engaged to accompany us.
We left the capital on Tuesday, April 14th, at ten o’clock, having
planned to accomplish but a single stage on the first day of the
journey. As our route lay along the south border of Imerina, we crossed
the Ikopa, and three of its tributaries, and bent our steps towards
Antongona, one of the most striking hills in the province. The Sisaony,
which we crossed first, is a broad but shallow river, which we had met
with higher up, near Ambátomaláza. The Andromba we found a hundred yards
broad and four feet deep. The Katsaoka, a few miles beyond was about the
same size. Both rivers rise among the eastern roots of Ankárat, and
coming round Fandravásana and Kingory, flow across a level, which looks
wonderfully like a dried-up lake; and uniting at its western end, flow
northward to join the Ikopa, at the foot of Ambohimanoa. Before crossing
these rivers we found that the population was sensibly growing thinner.
ANTONGONA is a noble hill of gneiss, running nearly east and west. Its
name seems to recognise its resemblance to the human foot. It consist of
two sections, and in the centre of the western part is a lofty mass of
rocks, round which a number of houses are clustered. We climbed to the
summit (570 feet above the plain); obtained important observations: and
had a striking view of the country, which lay clear beneath us on every
side.
On the second day we rested at Arivonimámo, the former capital of the
IMAMO district. It is a small decayed place, with seventy houses. It is
surrounded by a deep fosse, and has on its north side a fine specimen of
the Malagasy town-gate, with its round stone. In the centre of the
little town are some royal tombs, shaded by five noble amóntana trees.
All the principal families, once settled here, have removed to the
capital and its neighbourhood: and the population is kept up by their
dependents and a few aged people past work. The town stands in an open,
undulating plain: but it has little population around it.
[Illustration:
STONE GATE AT ARIVONIMAMO.
]
From Antongona westward the country has many beauties. The hills are
bold, lofty and of fine form. The ravines are narrow; and the hills are
soft and rich with groves of the tapia tree on which the silkworm lives.
Ambóhitrámbo, which from the capital seems merely a noble conical hill,
we found to have a long ridge behind it, like the body of the Sphinx.
Ambóhimpanómpo, full of ravines and cascades on its northern face,
curves round to the south and south-east, in a great ridge covered with
boulders. South of Arivonimámo is a low hill, the basaltic stones of
which are heavy with iron. Close to its foot, come down some of the long
lava tongues that have flowed out from the lofty peaks of Ankáratra,
Ambohitsámpan and Tsi-áfak-áfo, twenty miles to the south. Still
westward, Iváhanámbo and Tsitákondáza, twin hills of great height, tower
above the country. Beyond them is the noble mass of Vódivóhitra: and
between it and Nánza lies one of the prettiest pieces of rural scenery
in western Imerina. Journeying onward we began to approach the edge of
the Imerina plateau, and were involved in ridges, that rapidly succeeded
one another, with deep ravines and gullies between. Throughout the
journey we crossed several small rivers, draining the north side of
Ankárat, the Ombifotsy, and the Anonibe, which join the Ikopa; and
others which fall into Lake Itasy and thence flow down into the western
plains. All these results of our observation are carefully embodied in
the Map of the district which is one product of our journey.
On the evening of Friday, the fourth day after leaving the capital, we
reached the village of Miádanamanjáka. It was on a hill and well raised
above the swamps. But it was a dirty place, of sixty-two houses; full of
pigs and cattle; and muddy from the heavy rain which fell just before
our arrival. The chapel, in which alone we could find accommodation, was
very damp and had a great hole in the roof. We put up the tent however
inside, spread our waterproof tent carpets, and made ourselves
comfortable. Here we spent three days, looking into a variety of matters
connected both with the place and with the people.
Saturday we devoted to LAKE ITASY; and spent a most delightful day
examining it. The ridge, upon the end of which the village stands, runs
north, and at its highest point overhangs the lake, being 1630 feet
above it. From the crest of this ridge we had a fine view of the entire
country: and as usual we took a series of observations and photographed
the lake, now lying in all its length before us. Lake Itasy is scarcely
known in the geographical world except by name. Its eastern end has been
visited on three or four occasions by the English Missionaries; and also
by M. Grandidier. The lake possesses many points of interest. One of its
most striking features is the noble mountain of Ambóhimíangára, which
overhangs its north-east corner. This is one of the grandest among the
many grand hills of Imerina. It is twelve miles in length; and its base
is over two miles wide: it has three peaks: each of which is fifteen
hundred feet above the general level of the plain. It is said to contain
a great deal of iron, and has for many generations been resorted to by
the people of the neighbourhood for their local implements. Other lofty
hills border the lake on the west. Indeed, except on its south bank it
is surrounded by hills; and on that side, the swampy level indicated
that in former days and when the waters were deeper, the lake extended
to a hilly mass now more than two miles from the shore. The lake is not
a deep ravine with one end dammed up by rocks (like Nynee Tál), and so
filled by the waters accumulated from above. It is a submerged level. At
its western end it looks shallow: and the fishing showed it to be
shallow: but toward the east, where strong winds produce a current, the
lake is deep. Many streams flow into it from the south and east: and it
has but one outlet on the north side: the stream from which goes to the
west and south-west and falls into the Kitsamby. The lake is eight miles
long and two miles and a half broad. It contains six small peninsulas,
jutting into the water; on one of which, called Ambóniházo, “wooded
hill,” is a little village, with a pretty church, embowered among the
trees. The country around it is very bright and green: and under the
clear sky, the lake of pale blue was a most pleasant sight. In the
afternoon we descended the hill and went down to its western shore. We
found there a plain a mile broad, with rice, maize and fruit growing in
the fields: with the little village of Moratsiázo and a chapel. Standing
on the margin of the lake, we counted nineteen boats or canoes, dotting
the water near, each with a separate man, catching with rod and line the
fish for which the lake is celebrated. The water is sweet, but it was
very dirty. The people of the village received us hospitably: they gave
us some excellent guavas; we had a most acceptable tiffin in the chapel;
and we left one of our men, who proves to be a good preacher, to conduct
service for them on the morrow.
The district we had reached, on the south-west corner of the lake, is
called the MANDRIDRANO, “sluggish waters.” The drainage of the district
is certainly imperfect: there are long levels in the valleys, the
outlets of which need artificial enlargement: to these sluggish waters
(which they drink) the people attribute the fevers which abound. The
population is by no means deficient. The weekly market was attended by
some three hundred people. There are several flourishing villages, as
Andrainarivo, Tsáravinány and Ambonilouka, within two miles: while
beyond Moratsiazo, there are Ambohipólo and Ambohidráno, villages of
some size with chapels: and to the west there is a large and fertile
basin with a large population, to be more particularly described. The
people too are by no means poor. They have plenty to eat and drink:
cattle are numerous: fruit is abundant, and rice and maize are
fabulously cheap. Mr. Parrett specially noticed during his visit (some
years ago), that a bushel of maize, weighing 70 lbs., could be bought
for threepence. Three bushels of rice cost ninepence. The market was
well supplied with beef, grain and fruit. But the people are extremely
ignorant; and the great among them are very consequential. They live in
a secluded corner of the country: they have rarely received a visit even
from intelligent men among their own nobles: and only by rumours does
any thing reach them from the great outside world. It was no wonder
therefore that our coming created a sensation. Three Englishmen at once
and a village-full of travelled fellow-countrymen quite turned their
heads. They were full of curiosity, and watched all that we said and did
with keenest eyes. Our folding chairs amused them greatly. Our railway
rugs and striped blankets, so thick and warm and bright coloured,
appeared to them truly gorgeous. Anything so warm and comfortable as our
tent they had never seen. How convenient and full of wealth our boxes.
How strong our water-cans; and as to our spoons, cups and enamelled
plates, our teapot and our boots, they were wonderful indeed. We had a
crowd around the place the whole time.
Five years ago there was only one man west of Arívonimámo, who professed
to be a Christian: and he proved to be a pretender. The old heathenism
of the country was unbroken. The petty idols, the magical charms, lucky
and unlucky days, were regarded with a veneration free from doubt. The
sovereign of their country was looked up to, as twenty years ago a
Russian peasant regarded the Czar, as God present upon earth. Except in
a single case, no faithful Christians fled hither, during the days of
persecution, as they fled to Vonizongo. There was no silent teaching, no
quiet moulding, of public and social life, by the words and the example
of martyrs, which other districts and towns enjoyed. Heathenism remained
unchecked, unattacked, unconquered. But when the idols were burned all
over Imerina, the superstitious regard of the great people for their
Queen, naturally led them to say to their dependents and slaves, “We
must pray, as the Queen prays:” and an external change was the result.
With it neither the missionaries nor the public authorities had anything
to do. It was the act of the people themselves. Heathenism had taught
them to follow their sovereign in every thing: and external heathenism
was ruined as the result. Mr. Sewell informed us that when he first
visited these people, and enquired who had taught them, what did they
know, and how they worshipped, he could get no replies. He gave them the
best help he could find, little as it was: and it has borne good fruit.
They do know something of Christianity now. It is difficult to secure
good teachers for them. The district is known to be unhealthy: the
people are backward in every thing: life is rough; though food is
plentiful. And it is only on the missionary principle of self-denying
labour for the Lord’s sake, that native preachers and their wives can be
induced to settle among them. One such teacher and his wife we saw at
Mahábo. And the bright face, the frank manners, and the clean, white
dress, showed in a moment how superior they were in the range of their
life and thought to the people among whom their lot was cast. One thing
however Mr. Sewell said, had sprung from this great lack of instruction;
which he observed more clearly every visit that he paid them. Knowing
that others have this instruction, the longing of the people for
teachers, for books, for Scriptures, has been intensified. We could see
the proof of this ourselves. We had seen the same thing in other parts
of the country, and were to see it again. Indeed among all the phenomena
of religious life in Madagascar that have come under our own eye, this
is the most prominent; that the ignorant multitudes of Malagasy are
eager to learn about the Christianity, which the nation has chosen for
its faith; and that they make the most attentive and docile scholars
that any Christian missionary, English or native, can desire to
instruct. We spent a pleasant Sunday among these people. The chapel was
well filled: and a large number of very respectably dressed men and
women were present. The singing was rough: and a style of bass, which
faintly resembles a bombardment, seemed very popular. We often heard
this bombarding bass in outlying districts. Mr. Sewell of course
conducted the service: and preached the gospel simply and to most
attentive listeners in connection with the story of the raising of
Lazarus. He also gave away many books in answer to earnest requests. I
think there are no parts of our visit to Madagascar, from which my
colleague and myself learned so much, as these visits to country
stations.
It was during our visit to the Mándridráno, that I received the
impression, afterwards repeatedly confirmed, that one of the most
beautiful things to be found in Madagascar is its grass. This grass
covers many thousands of square miles. It is beautiful as it spreads
abroad over the open plains, where it is short, compact and juicy; and
supplies abundant nourishment to the great herds which the nobles of the
land send to fatten upon what costs them nothing. It is beautiful in the
sheltered valleys, where the soft, tender blades, enriched by the pearly
dew and the gentle rain, are refreshing to the eye, and yield like
velvet beneath the foot. It has a few wild flowers self sown among its
roots: but has nothing of that profusion of colour and variety of form
in its wild companions which render the flowering plants on the broad
straths of Switzerland so brilliant to the eye, and such poor food to
the cattle which consume them. But the grass of Madagascar is in its
glory on the great hills. Burnt year after year by long sweeping fires,
it springs up again with a profusion and a fulness which clasp huge
rocks within its soft embrace. Here it is short but strong: there it
rises in vast tufts, each of which contains many thousand blades and
covers many feet of ground: and yet again it spreads over vast patches
of country in thick, tall masses, which tower above men’s heads, open
their tinted blades to the warm sun, and wave their myriads of golden
feathers in the summer winds. And it is when we contemplate this rich
but simple provision of the divine bounty, when we watch these masses of
slender blades, each tuft a forest in itself, clothing with beauty what
man has neglected, laying up store for man and beast, opening their
golden hair to the dews by night and the warm winds by day, and joyously
revelling in the life given them from above, that then we can, with Mr.
Ruskin, appreciate and share the admiration and the praise given by the
Psalmist to Him “who maketh the grass to grow upon the mountains.”