“Are steeped in idleness, dissolute, and licentious. Under King Badama’s reign the English had missions in Madagascar; but these disappeared in 1830, and the country now governed by Queen Banavola is fast falling into misery and ruin. To cut a long tale short, we arrived at Tamanarivo, and were received by the queen. Her majesty’s taste is for blood, and it is said that fifteen thousand men perished in building her palace, and that thousands of people are put to death yearly by her orders. Our reception was an unfavourable one, and we were as yet in ignorance of the political nature of our leader’s mission.
“The town of Tamanarivo is situated on a height; it has one long straggling street, where the houses of the richer class are situated. Here is the queen’s palace, surrounded by enormous columns in wood, brought with great labour from fabulous distances. Five thousand men were employed in transporting one single pillar, and the greater part of them died from fever and disease, caught in the low-lying forest land, where the mighty tree grew. Near the palace is the tomb of King Radama, whose intelligence was the means by which the Hovas race emerged from darkness; and near it stands a second palace, richly ornamented with silver, which sparkles in the sun, and belongs to the queen’s heir. On three sides the mountain is scarped, forming awful precipices; on the fourth it slopes gently down to the plain, and on these slopes the little houses of the poorer people are erected, and here we were assigned a hut.
“Among our number was a missionary named Maurice. Young, ardent and enthusiastic, he would make no allowance for the prejudices of others, and seemed to brave death, and even court martyrdom, in his incessant endeavours to make proselytes. Strict orders had been given by the queen that we were not to prosecute our religious rites, but Maurice could not be restrained. Whilst we waited, hoping that the queen’s mood might change, our brother went forth among the people, boldly preaching the Gospel, and openly defying the queen.
“He planted the cross on the heights of the mountains, he assembled the people under the forest trees, and there with the sweet odour of the ravensara floating around, he told them that cheating and lying, though taught as virtues, were in reality crimes. He told them that the souls of their chiefs were not migratory, that the crocodiles were not once men, that the good genius of the world was not Zanhahar, and the evil one Angetch, and what was a still worse crime, that the ombioche or priests were only pretended sorcerers.
“He made many converts, but he raised up a host of enemies.”
“You speak of him ever in the past,” remarked Hughes; “he must have been a noble fellow. Did he pay the penalty of his zeal?”
“You shall hear,” continued the missionary. “One morning our hut was surrounded with soldiers, our chief, Willis, was seized, and at once sent under escort to Tamatavé. Rice, manioc, and a kind of potato peculiar to Madagascar, were supplied us, and for nearly a month we remained close prisoners. Of what was passing around us we knew nothing, but during this time the ‘ombioches,’ against whose pretensions Maurice had preached, were employed finding out all those who had attended his meetings or received him.
“At the end of the thirtieth day we were led forth, as we thought, to death. In a large, empty piece of ground, near the palace, about twenty men were huddled. They were quite naked, and many of them cruelly maimed. These were the Christians, and they were surrounded by soldiers. We were placed on a height near where we could see what passed. Armed with sticks and knives, the soldiers were loosed upon the prisoners. The scene was a heart-rending one. Driven gradually towards the brink of the precipice, the screams of the terrified victims became fearful, as goaded on by the sharp knives, and the cruel thongs, one after another took the fatal leap, and the next moment lay mangled, shapeless masses on the sharp rocks below.”
“Santa Maria, how terrible!” exclaimed Isabel. “I wish we were away from this horrible but beautiful island; and you, how did you escape?”
