We were fortunate enough to be detained only three days at Tamatavé. On the 16th of September a ship was ready to sail for the Mauritius, and we were then obliged to tear ourselves from our amiable escort and this hospitable country. I shed no parting tear on the occasion—my heart felt light as I stepped on board; and it was with intense satisfaction that I saw the boat containing the commandant and his men paddling back to the shore. Nevertheless, I do not regret having undertaken this journey, and shall do so the less if I am fortunate enough to regain my health.
In Madagascar I saw and heard more marvelous things than had come under my notice in any other country; and if little can be said to the advantage of the people, it must be remembered that, under the cruel, insensate rule of Queen Ranavola, and in the entire absence of instruction in religion and morality, no great expectations can reasonably be formed. If Madagascar should once obtain a well-ordered, civilized government, and should be visited by missionaries who, instead of busying themselves with political intrigues, would devote their energies to imparting the Christian religion, in its true sense, to the people, a happy and flourishing kingdom may be founded in this beautiful land: the materials of prosperity are certainly not wanting.
Of our return journey to the Mauritius I have little to tell. Our vessel, the brig “Castro,” Captain Schneider, was about as slow a sailer as the quondam man-of-war which had borne us from the Mauritius to Tamatavé about five months ago; and as the wind was not very favorable to us, six days were consumed in the passage; but, in the enjoyment of our newly-attained freedom, they fled blithely away.
At nine o’clock in the evening of the 22d of September we arrived in the Mauritian waters, when an accident of a highly dangerous character occurred, which might have cost us all our lives, to the great satisfaction, no doubt, in such an event, of Queen Ranavola. The night being dark and cloudy, the captain determined to cast anchor, and to have the ship taken into harbor next morning by a steam-tug. Every preparation had been made, and they were just about to let go the anchor, when the rudder struck with such violence against a rock that it was shattered into atoms. The crash of the broken beams and planks was so great that it seemed as though the whole vessel were going to pieces. I was already in bed, and started up in alarm to see what could be the matter, when I heard the shout of the second officer, “Come up this moment, Madame Pfeiffer, if you want to be saved; the ship is broken in two, and sinking.”
I threw my cloak round me and hurried on deck. The kind officer, Mr. St. Ange, helped me into one of the boats, and told me to sit still, and I should be quite safe. On a closer inspection, it happily turned out that the ship had not even sprung a leak, and that the whole damage was limited to the loss of the rudder and the fright we had endured.
The anchors were lowered, and we went quietly to bed. Next morning the bright sunshine woke us, signals were hoisted, and a steam-tug came puffing out to tow us into the welcome harbor of the Mauritius.
My friends here were very much surprised to see me again. It appeared that the most exaggerated reports had been received from Tamatavé of the unfortunate issue of our undertaking. Some people gave out that Queen Ranavola had caused all the Europeans in Tananariva to be executed; others declared that the sentence of death had only been carried out on Mr. Lambert, and that the rest, including myself, had been sold as slaves; while another party maintained that we had been banished from the country, and murdered on the journey by command of the queen.
I was happily enabled to give a very practical denial to these reports; but the danger was not yet quite past. A few days after my arrival, the moral and physical sufferings I had undergone, added to the peculiar effects of the fever, brought on such a severe illness that the doctors were long doubtful about my recovery, and I should certainly have died but for the kind and active sympathy of the Moon family.
Mr. Moon, a medical man and apothecary, lives in a very retired manner, with his amiable wife, on a sugar-plantation in Vacoa. I had, my readers will remember, spent a few very happy days with this family before my departure for Madagascar. As soon as Mr. Moon heard that I had returned from my journey, and was very ill, he came to the capital to take me to his house, where I arrived almost in a dying state. To his, and to Dr. A. Perrot’s scientific skill, and to the unceasing care bestowed upon me in his house, I have to ascribe my recovery; and it chanced that exactly on my sixtieth birthday, the 9th of October, 1860, I was pronounced out of danger.
May God reward Dr. Moon and his wife, and Dr. Perrot, for all they did for me, a total stranger as I was to them!