Twelve months in Madagascar

by Joseph Mullens

On the 8th of September 1869, a religious revolution took place in Madagascar. The priests and diviners of the idol Kelimaláza came to the Queen, and urged that, like her predecessors, she should again take the idol into her palace, and place her whole kingdom under its protection. The Queen had, from the commencement of her reign, eighteen months before, taken her stand as a Christian; and in the previous February, in the presence of her people, had been baptized as a Christian. Her husband, the Prime Minister, and an influential body of nobles and officers, had adopted the same faith: and Christianity was making great strides among her subjects generally. The keepers of the three national idols had in consequence been deposed from their position as keepers of the ruler’s conscience, as directors of lucky and unlucky days, and as instigators of the persecutions, from which the land had suffered great harm. They had also been deprived of their special privileges. They were no longer Andríans, entitled to the scarlet umbrella, exempt from the jurisdiction of the ordinary Courts, and having the power of life and death over their own clan; they were simply Hovas, and were bound to render to their sovereign that feudal service, to which all other members of the tribe were subject. All this was trying enough. Men, who have long enjoyed exclusive privileges at others’ expense, are usually dissatisfied when their vested interests are set aside without compensation. And when, in the month of June, the Queen laid the foundation of her Chapel Royal, and summoned these priestly families to do their share in building it, they made a last desperate attempt to recover their former position. They came to the Queen and urged her to place the land under the idols once more.

The occasion was felt to be an important one. There was a hurried consultation. A large number of officers was summoned; and a discussion commenced among them as to how the difficulty should be met. A happy suggestion offered by one of them, that the idols should be burned, was heartily approved by all. Due authority was given by the Queen, and several officers were at once dispatched on horseback to the village where the chief idol was kept. Arrived at the idol-house, the leader went in and brought the idol out, “Whose idol is this?” he asked of the bystanders. “It belongs to the Queen,” was their reply. “If this idol be mine,” saith Ránaválo-manjáka, “I need it not: let it be burned.” And burned it was, with all its trappings, to their consternation and grief. The other royal idols shared the same fate.

The event produced a profound sensation throughout the country. By the theory and the practice of Malagasy public life, the Queen had a perfect right to decide as she had done. But her subjects were not behind their sovereign. Public opinion had been rapidly ripening on the subject, and there was no hesitation as to the course that should be followed. The next day, all over Imérina, the private idols of villages and families were also brought forth: bundles of clothes and charms, round which the superstitious fears of many generations had clustered, were committed to the flames; and soon a little heap of ashes was all that remained of the outward symbols of a faith that had been held by the Malagasy races since their first fathers landed on the island. The revolt from the system was complete. From all quarters came the inquiry, “Whom does the Queen worship? How is that worship conducted? What are we to do?” From all quarters was heard the request, “Send us teachers: send us books.” Chapels were hastily erected all over the province, even in remote villages. And the resources of the native Churches, of the English Mission, and of the Mission Press, were taxed to the utmost to supply the nation’s wants.

Profound as was the sensation produced by the burning of the idols abroad, it was not less deeply felt at home. The greatness of the event was discerned: its spiritual significance was instantly appreciated. No such event had occurred in the history of Christendom before: no such multitude of willing men and women had ever knocked for admission at the Church’s door in a single year. It was the fruit of the long and painful persecution of twenty-eight years. It was the fruit of the faithfulness of the martyrs, dead and living, upon whose sufferings and fidelity all Christendom had looked with sympathy. It was the answer to the thousands of prayers which those sufferings had called forth.

The case was thoroughly appreciated. A few enthusiasts might talk of Madagascar as christianized, and think it needed Christian help no longer. But the Committees of Missionary Societies, the men who have been dealing with the practical life of heathen nations for many years, and have been studying the many problems involved in their redemption, were not likely to make that mistake. A new born child is not the educated, thoughtful, self-denying man, he some day may be. With his birth and growth the trials and responsibilities of parents begin. Many a missionary has found that his work in instructing the heathen was as nothing, compared with the labour, anxiety and trial, which fell to his lot, when he began to gather converts around him, and by God’s help endeavoured to train them to holiness and trust, while “the world, the flesh, and the devil” were drawing them back again to evil. With the thankfulness and congratulations which this great change inspired in the friends of the Imerina Mission, it was felt that new duties of a most serious kind devolved upon them; and the Directors of the London Missionary Society, who had maintained that mission and had aided the Malagasy Churches for more than fifty years, determined without delay to enlarge the mission by all the agencies which the crisis called for. Large sums of money were contributed almost unasked; and within the five years that have since elapsed twenty English missionaries have been added to the staff previously labouring in the island. It was resolved to commence new stations, and to enlarge and strengthen the Theological and Normal Schools; to increase and stimulate general education; and to make the Press more efficient. Other Christian missions, working in cordial co-operation with the London Missionary Society, were enlarged at the same time.

Nothing could be more desirable than that these increased agencies should be carefully applied so as to produce the largest amount of good. Especially was it felt to be important that every English missionary, expected to be a fountain of wisdom and of spiritual power to the simple people around him, should be located in a position that would call forth all his strength, and give to his abilities and influence the widest scope. As time went on it seemed increasingly difficult to secure these important ends. Much as we heard from abroad, and much as we wrote to Madagascar from London, it grew more plain that no amount of correspondence would suffice to convey to us and to them all the information as to details which it was desirable for each side to know; especially when that correspondence was frequently interrupted and delayed by its transit through one of the most inefficient mail-services known to the civilised world, the service between Bourbon and Madagascar. The conviction grew that nothing would suffice for the accomplishment of our purpose, nothing would supply all missing links and make co-operation complete, but that two or three Directors of the Society should proceed to the island, and that the missionaries and these Directors, as “friends in council,” should together shape the new scheme, which the enlarged mission imperatively required. It was felt to be an additional advantage that, by visiting the island, the members of such a deputation would have an opportunity of meeting the native pastors and native churches, and of assuring them both of the warm affection in which they were still held by their old friends, and of the gladness with which they would still be aided in their new and pressing wants. The Rev. John Pillans of Camberwell, a Director of the Society, and myself were honoured with the appointment; and after several impressive services, in which we were affectionately commended to the divine protection, and the divine blessing was sought on our expedition, we set out on our journey. Mrs. Pillans also accompanied us.

A pleasant day between Paris and Lyons, followed by a hot and weary night, brought us to Marseilles, our port of embarkation. Marseilles is now a great city, with six hundred thousand inhabitants; and its new streets, in solidity, breadth, and grandeur, compare favourably with those of Paris. The trade passing through the city is enormous. Its new quay and harbour are crowded with steamers, which connect it by commercial ties with all the ports of the Mediterranean and the Black Sea, and which in recent years have extended their lines to India, China, and Japan; while, conspicuous to all eyes, on its rocky hill, stands the church of Notre Dame de la Garde, the shrine at which the sailors of Marseilles have registered their vows and paid their thanks, from the day when, two thousand five hundred years ago, the Greek colonists of Phocæa founded the city of Massilia, and erected their first temple. Perhaps no shrine in Europe can boast of such a long and unbroken line of worshippers.

Our steamer was the Amazone, of the fleet of the Messageries Maritimes, a noble vessel of 2000 tons, bound for Shanghai and carrying the Eastern mails. We found her accommodations excellent; large cabins, a good table, attentive servants, an obliging captain, efficient officers, and a most muscular crew. What a mixture of nations we found among our fellow-passengers! There were Spaniards, French, Portuguese, English, Italians, and Japanese. Our Japanese companions were members of the Commission which had been visiting the Vienna Exhibition.

We started from the jetty punctually at ten, on the morning of the 6th of July. With a smooth sea and clear sky we passed rapidly through the Straits of Bonifacio, and were unexpectedly gratified by a brief visit to the city and bay of Naples. What painter can do full justice to the delicate hues of sea and sky at that fair spot? The harbour of Hong Kong and the bay of New York are, in their finest aspects and under the purest skies, truly beautiful; but there is a perfection of loveliness in the sheen of the air, the play of the colours, and the transparent clearness of the Bay of Naples that nothing can surpass. Leaving Naples at nine in the morning, at sunset we were close to Stromboli, with its cindery cone; and at midnight, with six men at the wheel, the Amazone passed steadily through the swirling currents of the Straits of Messina, under a magnificent moon. The long line of lights in the town of Messina, the dark rocks of the Italian coast, with Reggio at their feet; the firing of the gun, the burning of the blue lights, and the brilliant night made up a charming scene. We saw Candia in its entire length, with Mount Ida and its line of rugged hills; passed close to Gozo, the little island of Clauda, where the apostle Paul and his companions fell into the hurricane; and at sunrise on Saturday, six days from Marseilles, anchored at Port Said, the entrance to the Suez Canal.

There came on board at Naples a number of gentlemen in whom we felt considerable interest, and who proved agreeable companions. They were silk merchants from various cities of Italy, engaged in the endeavour to restore the Italian silk-trade, which has in recent years been almost ruined by disease among the worms. They make an annual voyage to Japan, and bring back with them enormous quantities of the best silkworms’ eggs. These are stowed in a special compartment of the vessel, iced to keep them cool, and a heavy freight is paid for the accommodation. Our new passengers were a tall, manly body of men; many of them had the unmistakeable Roman face and features; and when one saw them at dinner, enlivening the tedium of the seven courses with the hearty laugh and witty repartee, one felt that classical life was coming home very freshly, and could realise it more distinctly than before.