June 11. Last night I heard a slight noise and muffled footsteps in our house. I knew that the conspirators were to go from here during the night to the palace. I listened for many hours—all was silent as the grave; but suddenly there resounded a loud barking of dogs, followed by quick footsteps of men. I started involuntarily. I thought that the attempt must have failed, and that the hurrying steps were those of fugitives, and I felt how much more trying it is to be obliged to remain in passive suspense amid threatened danger than boldly to oppose and combat the peril.
I would not leave my room, lest I should betray my weakness if it proved to be a false alarm; so I avoided waking my companions, and awaited patiently what Heaven should send. But nothing farther occurred; the remainder of the night passed quietly, and next morning I learned that nothing had been undertaken, and that the favorable moment was not yet come.
I begin to fear that every thing will be spoiled by this long delay; the more so, as the meetings are not very cautiously conducted, and a traitor might easily be found among the nobles and officers apparently devoted to the prince. A good deal of the fault may lie with the prince himself. He is, as I have observed, a man of many good and noble qualities, but he wants decision and firmness of purpose; and his affection for the queen is, moreover, so great, that he might lack courage at the decisive moment to undertake any thing against her. It behooves him, however, to consider that there is no intention of robbing the queen of her titles, her freedom, or her wealth; the sole object of the movement being to take from her the power of perpetrating the cruelties and deeds of blood which have brought her subjects to misery and despair. The prince, who loves his mother above every thing, and only seeks to prevent her from being the scourge of a whole country, can not certainly be considered guilty of a crime. God strengthen him, and give him courage to be the deliverer of his people!
June 12. Mr. Lambert had so severe an attack of fever that for several days his life was in the greatest danger. But he terribly neglected all dietary precautions. As soon as he felt himself at all better, he ate all kind of things one after another, just as the whim took him—cold Strasburg pie, meat, and fruit, and drank Champagne and other wines. The other Europeans do just the same thing, so that I should not at all wonder if all who caught the fever fell victims to it. While I was in the Mauritius in the month of March, a stout gentleman from Tamatavé arrived there, and remained a few days in Mr. Lambert’s house, waiting for an opportunity to get to Bourbon. This gentleman asserted that he had the Madagascar fever, and when he appeared at breakfast complained that he had been suffering from it all night. Accordingly, some strong meat broth was prepared for him, which he enjoyed exceedingly; but it did not nearly satisfy him, for he ate in addition a mighty slice of sweet melon, partook of the other dishes to an extent which would have served me for a week, and finished his repast with a mango. He did equal justice to the various beverages; and at the evening meal he returned to the attack with renewed vigor, eating as if he had fasted the whole day.
In Tananariva I had frequent opportunities of noticing similar imprudences in diet; and when I made any remark, I was met with the profound reply, “What would you have? It is the custom of the country; the people say that the fever is very weakening, and that one must try to get up one’s strength by taking nourishing things.”
This belief really prevails among the people; the worse a man is, the more he is urged to eat. When a Malagasey is at the last gasp, they stuff rice into his mouth; and when he dies, they cry out in astonishment, “How wonderful! only just now he was eating!”
And because the stupid, uncultivated natives do this, the sensible and educated Europeans think it right to do likewise!
June 18. To-day I had the great honor of displaying my skill, or rather my want of skill, on the piano in the presence of the queen. Mr. Lambert had made her a present of a piano from the manufactory of Mr. Debain, in Paris, on his first visit to Tananariva. These pianos are not only made for playing upon with the hands, but can also be played in the manner of a barrel-organ by turning a handle or “manivelle.”
Mr. Lambert had told me of this when we were in the Mauritius, and added that the queen had never seen any one play the piano with their hands, and that it would be a great surprise to her. In my youth I had been a tolerably accomplished pianist, but that is a long time ago; for more than thirty years I had given up music, and had nearly forgotten all I once knew. Who would ever have thought that I should have to give a concert, under royal patronage, in my sixtieth year, when I strummed worse than many children at home who have only learned for a few months! But so it is when people go out in quest of adventure, and roam through the wide world; one never knows what may happen, and must be prepared for every thing.
With great difficulty I forced my stiff old fingers through a few scales and exercises, and contrived to remember a few easy, melodious waltzes and dance tunes; and, thus prepared, I ventured to risk the criticism of the strict royal connoisseur of Madagascar.