This was the first opportunity I had had of examining the splendid presents Mr. Lambert had brought.
The dresses, of which he had provided a considerable number for the queen, her sisters, and other female relatives, were really very handsome. Mr. Lambert had procured them in Paris from the dress-maker of the Empress of the French, and they were made according to the empress’s own patterns. Some of these dresses had cost more than three hundred dollars. To each were added the appropriate sash, ribbons, and head-dress—in a word, every thing necessary to make the toilette complete.
Thus bedizened, the fortunate ladies for whom these splendid garments are intended will doubtless look still more ridiculous than those who took part in the costume ball. I fancy I see them, with their clumsy figures and duck-like walk, in these splendid low-necked dresses, with long trains and short sleeves; and the delicate head-dresses—how piquant and charming!—stuck at the back of their woolly polls. Truly, if Mr. Lambert had made up his mind thoroughly to expose the ugliness of the female world of Madagascar, he could not have found any thing more suited to his purpose than these handsome costumes.
Not less numerous and splendid were the presents brought for Prince Rakoto. There were uniforms splendidly made, and as elaborately ornamented with gold embroidery as those of the Emperor of the French himself; private suits of the most various fabrics, forms, and colors; embroidered cambric shirts, pocket-handkerchiefs, shoes of all kinds, and every conceivable article of the toilet. A great deal of admiration, and perhaps a little jealousy too, was excited among the officers by a rich saddle-cloth, saddle, and bridle. The good people could not admire it sufficiently; and in the reception-room one of them asked me if in France the emperor was the only man who had such a saddle, or if the officers had them too. I was wicked enough to reply that only the emperor used such a handsome saddle, but that, when it became shabby, he gave it to one of his favorites, and ordered a new one for himself. Perhaps my querist may attach himself to the party of the prince in the hope of gaining the confidence of his chief, and with it the reversion of the saddle-cloth.
CHAPTER XVI.
Banquets in Madagascar.—A Kabar at Court.—The Sentence.—Our Banishment.—Departure from Tananariva.—Military Escort.—Observations on the People.—Arrival in Tamatavé.—Departure from Madagascar.—A false Alarm.—Arrival in the Mauritius.—Conclusion.
July 11. Yesterday evening an old woman was denounced to the authorities as a Christian. She was seized immediately, and this morning—my pen almost refuses to record the cruel torture to which the unhappy creature was subjected—they dragged her to the market-place, and her backbone was sawn asunder.
But a thousand horrors like these will not move the powers of Europe to come to the rescue of this unhappy people. In one respect, civilized and uncivilized governments are strangely alike; both are swayed only by political considerations, and humanity does not enter into their calculations.
July 12. This morning, I am sorry to say, six Christians were seized in a hut at a village not far from the city. The soldiers had already searched the hut, and were ready to depart, when one of them heard a cough. A new search was at once begun, and in a great hole dug in the earth, and covered over with straw, the poor victims were discovered. What astonished me most in this episode was, that the other inhabitants of the village, who were not Christians, did not betray the concealed ones, although they must have had intelligence of the last kabar, threatening death to all who kept Christians concealed, favored their flight, or neglected to assist in their capture. I should not have thought so much generosity existed among this people. Unfortunately, it met with a bad reward. The commanding officer cared nothing for the magnanimity of the action; he kept strictly to his instructions, and caused not only the six Christians, but the whole population of the village—men, women, and children—to be bound and dragged to the capital.
I fear there will be horrible scenes of blood. The poor people may all be executed, for it will be presumed that they were aware of their neighbors’ hiding-place. From the queen they have certainly no mercy to expect, for she has death-sentences carried out with the utmost rigor; indeed, no instance is known in which she has pardoned any one condemned to lose his life.