Military rank was founded on a system which led to some absurdities. It was reckoned by numbers, commencing with one honour for the private, two honours for the corporal, three for the sergeant, and so on up to thirteen for a field-marshal of the higher rank—a few having sixteen honours! Those thus highly honoured were not numerous; but the number of officers of lower grade was much greater in proportion to privates, than in the British army. Indeed from a third to a fourth of the army was composed of officers, so that “ta Phairshon,” with his excess of pipers over fighting men, would not have appeared very outrageous in the eyes of the Malagasy troops!
These officers had an eye to profitable business when not on service. It is stated by the missionaries that when engaged in building their churches and schools they sometimes found they had a field-marshal for a foreman, a colonel for mason or carpenter, a major for bricklayer, and so on! Above the thirteenth rank the numbers were very few, and of the sixteenth there were not above half-a-dozen.
Good, stout, courageous fellows were the men whom John Hockins and his comrades saw that day manoeuvring below them on the plain of Imahamasina; men who, although by no means comparable to European troops in precision of movement, understood their work nevertheless, and would have proved themselves formidable opponents to deal with in war. Laihova further informed them that the first man who organised the force was a Sergeant Brady, who began his work in the year 1816, carried it on for many years, and rose to the rank of major-general in the service of King Radama. After General Brady’s death, the native officers continued the work on the same lines.
But in costume and appearance these soldiers were what is familiarly known as “a queer lot!” The uniform of the rank and file consisted of a tunic and trousers of white material, with a narrow-brimmed straw hat painted white, cross-belts and cartouche-box—by no means an unbecoming dress. But it was worn only at drills and reviews and state ceremonies. At other times, when on duty, soldiers went about almost naked, and the contrast of their dirty-white cross-belts with their brown breasts was curious, to say the least, while their straw hats and slovenly gait suggested anything but soldierly bearing.
The variety of dress indulged in, however, by the crowd of officers was outrageous as well as mirth-provoking.
“Why it seems to me,” said Mark, “that every officer may put on what seemeth right in his own eyes! I see old regimental red coats and pantaloons; hats and shakos that must have been worn a hundred years ago. I even see what looks at this distance like naval uniforms and cocked hats, and no two of them seem to be dressed alike.”
Mark looked inquiringly at Laihova as he spoke, but that dignified native merely smiled, and made a slight inclination of his head, as if to say, “Just so, that’s the way we do it here!”
“Why do they let civilians mix wi’ them?” asked Hockins, pointing to a particular part of the field.
“To keep ’em cibil, I s’pose,” suggested Ebony.
“Where?” asked Laihova, with a puzzled look.