Drunkenness prevails throughout every district of Madagascar, with the exception of the Emir territory, where some of the severe laws of Dianampoiene, the founder of the Malagasey monarchy, are still observed; among which there is one prohibiting the sale of ardent spirits, under pain of death, and commanding the summary execution of every drunkard. In this last-named district the people seem much more steady, orderly, and respectable than in the others, where intemperance goes unpunished. The favorite drink of the natives is the before-mentioned besa-besa, prepared from the juice of the sugar-cane. In almost every village drunkards of both sexes are seen reeling about even in the daytime; and late at night we often heard music and singing, loud voices and laughter, and not unfrequently quarreling and fighting.
Judged by this apparently continual state of hilarity, the people here would seem to be the happiest on earth; but the condition of the poor creatures is that of slaves and bondmen, and, like true serfs, they seek in the pleasures of intoxication forgetfulness of their bondage and misery.
Greatly as the Hovas and Malagaseys are addicted to drink, they are, I think, still more fond of chattering. They seem unable to hold their peace for two minutes together; and instead of saying their say quietly and peaceably, they talk with such haste and eagerness, that it would seem they thought the day too short for the interchange of their ideas. Those who are not speaking keep up an almost continual laugh, so that I often asked to be informed of the subject of their conversation, thinking that something very witty and amusing was going on. But every time I was assured that I was mistaken; their talking was of the most trivial and sometimes of the most untranslatable kind, and they repeated the same things a dozen times within the hour.
An instance of the peculiar garrulousness of these people came under my own notice. Once, at Tananariva, I sent a messenger upon some errand, and noticed that he immediately sought for a companion. On my announcing that I would pay one messenger, but not two, my Mercury assured me I need not give his comrade any thing, but added that he could not think of accomplishing his journey on a long and solitary road without having some one to converse with, and that he should therefore give his companion a share of the fee.
Our bearers were no exception to the general rule. They chattered and laughed without a moment’s pause, so that my poor sick head sometimes fairly reeled. At first I fondly fancied, when we came to a steep hill, that the exertion would make them pause. Vain hope! they panted and groaned, but they never left off talking.
I have spoken of the impudence and shamelessness of these people; but my pen refuses to record the scenes I witnessed on this doleful journey. We were looked upon as state prisoners, and accordingly treated with less respect and consideration than we had received during our progress to the capital; and the natives who escorted us showed themselves without disguise in all their natural viciousness. Frequently I did not know which way to look; and my companions often pronounced me fortunate in my ignorance of the native language.
At length, on the 12th of September, we arrived at Tamatavé; and we two fever-patients, Mr. Lambert and I, had not done Queen Ranavola the favor of dying, after all. It was really almost a miracle that we escaped with our lives, and I, for my part, never expected that my weak, exhausted frame could have endured the compulsory long delays in unwholesome regions, the cruel usage, and the continual succession of various hardships to which we had been subjected.
Neither Mr. Lambert nor I could obtain permission to stay in Mademoiselle Julie’s house. We were taken to a little hut, and were there guarded with the same strictness that had been exhibited on the whole route. The commander of the escort announced to us that we were to quit the island by the first ship that sailed for the Mauritius, and that he had received orders to prevent us from holding communication with any person in Tamatavé, and to accompany us with his soldiers till we had fairly embarked.
I must say for the commandant and his officers that they fulfilled to the very letter the orders the queen had given them; and if her majesty of Madagascar should ever think of establishing an order of knighthood, as she may probably some day do, they deserve to be Grand Crosses, every one.
Queen Ranavola will probably take another view of the case, and these zealous servants will, I fancy, be very ungraciously received when they return with the unwelcome news that Mr. Lambert and I have quitted Madagascar alive. I am sorry for her disappointment, but am selfish enough to think it is better that it has happened so, after all.