CHAPTER XXI
The passage through the Suez Canal was somewhat monotonous, but a continued reminder of bible history. On either side as far as the eye could reach the desert spread out its sandy atoms glistening in the sun.
Out of the canal we are in the Gulf of Suez, and in a few hours in the Red Sea, an interesting locality in ancient history. It is there we learn that Pharaoh and his hosts met their Waterloo (with the accent on the water) in the pursuit of the children of Israel. But here we find conflicting opinions. Some say that Pharaoh, arriving at the bank and seeing the impossibility of overtaking them, turned and retired; others, that there were shoal places in those far-away days where any one could cross; others, that they crossed on flats very like the ordinary modern mortal. But I do not accept this attempt to question the orthodox version, but will verify it as far as my observation will admit. The sea was likely red in those days, and has very properly retained its name on account of the locality being red-hot at times, or, perhaps, chameleon like, changes its color. This morning, however, it is a deep blue. As to Pharaoh and his hosts getting drowned, there cannot be doubt, if it was in its present condition and they attempted to cross on foot.
But this we do know, that the success of the "Children of Israel" in not being "overtaken" has been the prototype of father to son in every effort to do so from that day to the present. There is a serious view, however. Here the sea, sky and neighborhood of Jerusalem, pyramids, monuments and sacred traditions all conspire to have a solemn and awe-inspiring effect. Thousands of generations of men have lived and moved in the activities that engage modern humanity, but have passed like fleeting shadows, leaving only these sentinels as perpetual reminders. While the "Red Sea" sings in murmuring cadence that "men may come, and men may go, but I go on forever," doubly impressing us that
"So the multitude goes, like the flower or weed,
That wither away to let others succeed;
So the multitude comes, even those we behold,
To repeat every tale that has often been told."
But a truce to moralizing on the past. The children of Israel seem to have made and kept their record as "passengers." I was interested in the passage of a child of Ham. I am somewhat deficient in Bible history, and am without knowledge of the whereabouts of Ham's children at that time, or whether they had "crossing" to do; but if they possessed the proverbial character imputed to some of their offspring, antipathy to water, especially for lavatory purposes, I am of the opinion they took no desperate chances, "content to bear the ills they had than fly to those they knew not of."
Passing Hurich Island, a British possession, and having had a very pleasant passage on the Red Sea, we arrive at Djiboute, Abyssinia, the terminus of King Menelik's domain, the scenes of recent conflict between Italy and the King's forces, the "unpleasantness" resulting unprofitably to the Italians. There were landed from the ship many boxes of rifles and ammunition for the King's governor, who resides here. During the few hours we remained there, we were interested in and enjoyed the gathering of ten or fifteen native boys around the ship diving for centimes or francs thrown by the passengers, their dexterity as divers, securing every penny, was as clever as grotesque. They remained in the water six or eight hours during the ship's stay. A few hours brought us to Aden, a very strongly fortified appendage to the British Empire at the south end of the Red Sea. For armament and strategical locality it is the Gibraltar of the southern seas.
The rivalry of native boatmen for passengers and luggage to take ashore was appalling. When I say it surpassed a third ward political meeting in "ye olden times" in Little Rock I faintly describe it. Sunday morning; once more on the way; one more stop, and then to Tamatave, our destination.
Looking this beautiful morning on the foam-crest waves as they roll in sportive emulation, with a cloudless sky coming down on every side to kiss the horizon, shutting out human vision of all else beyond, one could not fail to be impressed with the greatness, the omnipotence of the Creator. This being but a speck of that vast whole, comprising the celestial and terrestrial aggregation, he, indeed, who regards this sublime workmanship as the product of chance and not that of a super-human architect and law-giver, by Whom every atom of nature is controlled, is more to be pitied than condemned.
To conclude our voyage, we have six or seven days of "innocuous desuetude." That is what I believe President Cleveland designated a monotonous and unprofitable period. I am not certain, however, and one should be careful in quoting great authors.
We pass the Gulf of Aden and enter the Indian Ocean, Rem Huffien Island to the right, and now appears the eastern coast lines of the continent of Africa. On that continent, I learn, lies the ashes of my forefathers. Peace abide with them, and may peace crowned with justice come to such of their descendants as are still the victims of dishonesty and inhumanity by enlightened and professedly Christian nations.
Travel by sea loses in interest as you recede or are midway between distant points. You somehow feel yourself located in the neighborhood of "Mahomet's coffin," and have a sort of a "don't-care-a-continental" atmosphere surrounding you, with nothing to arrest attention save the usual incidents of ocean voyage, with no land in sight. The constitutional promenade on deck before and after meals, with the French etiquette of raising your hat or cap as you pass; reading or lounging on sofas or reclining chairs; relating individual experiences of life or travel; criticising the conduct of others than yourselves; the welcome sound of the bell that calls you to meals; the last view of the sun as it bids you "good-bye," with its ineffectual rays, and gently sinks beneath the horizon; the rising of the moon, shedding its sheen of sparkling light on the dancing waves; retirement to your couch to listen awhile to the heavy breathing, and feel the pulse-beat of the iron monitor as it speeds you onward; finally to sleep, to dream of loved ones at home.
The suavity of the French is in notable contrast with the more taciturn deportment of the English; amiable contact has much to do with softening the asperities of life.
We are now crossing the heretofore much-dreaded equator – weather splendid, light, cloth suit not uncomfortable, but we are at sea and not on land. The forward deck is today given up to the sports of the sailors (the custom when crossing the line), and is now the center of attraction – running "obstacle races," the two competitors getting under, and from under a canvas-sheet held to the deck by a number of their fellows, and then running for the goal, picking up potatoes as they ran. Afterwards, with bucket of paste and paintbrush, lathering head and face, shaving with a large wooden razor the unlucky competitor – were a part of the amusements they imposed on "Old Father Time."
Arrived at Diego Suarez, on the northern port of Madagascar, a French naval station, having a land-locked harbor, providing good shelter and anchorage. The town is located on a plateau overlooking the bay. Many officers disembarked and a large amount of freight discharged. The resident population consisted of a medley from all eastern nations. Anchored a mile off and in small boats, and after 20 minutes' rowing we were landed. A dozen stores, barracks and the hospital on the opposite side of the bay were the only objects of interest. The large amount of freight discharged indicated it to be a prominent distributing point for the interior. Leaving Diego and running down the eastern coast with land in view, mountainous and apparently sterile, we reach Tamatave and anchor in the bay.
The ship was soon boarded by a messenger from Mr. Wetter, the outgoing American Consul at Madagascar, and I was piloted ashore. The view of Tamatave from the ship was not prepossessing, and my walk through the city to the hotel was not inspiring. The attempt to dignify the six or eight feet wide alleys (which were the main arteries for travel) as avenues or streets, seemed ludicrous, and the filthy condition, the absence of all sanitary regulations in a province pretending a civilized administration, was to me a revelation. The natural sequence of such neglect was the visitation of the "Bubonic plague" a few months after my arrival and an immense death-rate. The alarm proved a conservator for the living, for the burning of the effected districts, widening the streets and enforcement of sanitary rules have tended to lessen its virulence, although it has been yearly in its visitations; for while foul surroundings are recognized as hot-beds for the propagation of the germs of this pest, recent experience has demonstrated that while cleanliness and rigid sanitary measures are less inviting, they are not positive barriers to its approach and dire effect. The "terror" originally supposed to be indigenous only to India, Egypt, and China, and so domestic in its habits as to confine its ravages to few precincts, now stalks forth as on a world mission – to Mauritius in Indian Ocean, to Japan, Brazil, Australia, Honolulu, and last and not least, interesting from an American point of view, are the stealthy footsteps of the unwelcome guest in the city of San Francisco, Cal. "While medical information relating to the plague is still less definite and extensive than it should be," says an eminent physician, "it is now well demonstrated that the disease depends upon a specific microbe."
It may be communicated from one person to another through expectoration, oozings from the mouth of dying persons, or through the excretions of the body. "The fears it inspires are well grounded, for the recoveries in a case of severe epidemics are only ten per cent. Of 126 cases reported from Manila from January 20 to March 30, 1900, 112 cases resulted fatally." In India, where the plague has been the most severe, the deaths from this cause have averaged 5,000 a week of recent years, a considerable amount of study has been devoted to the various phases of the plague, by physicians in Europe and the East especially, and a number have given their lives to the cause of medical science in attempts to find some method of successfully combating it. It is needless to say that no specific has as yet been discovered in its treatment, and ordinary curative measures have but little effect on its course.
In Chinatown, San Francisco, where it made its appearance, a rigid "cordon sanitaire" was established, and all outer intercourse prohibited. It is not believed that conditions are inviting in North America, although "the wish may be father to the thought."
The following brief expression relative to Madagascar and comment on Negro status in the following letter to the "Colored American," published in Washington City, may be in place:
Tamatave, Madagascar, Aug. 5, 1900.
Dear Friend Cooper: I have your favor June 14th last, in which you say you would like to have a line from me, that you "may let the friends over here know what you are doing." Well, here it is, line upon line, if not precept, etc. I am "still doing business at the same old stand," and doubt if I have anything to say regarding this "far-away post" that would particularly interest your readers, engrossed as I perceive they are in domestic phases and in the alignment of our recent acquisitions.
Regarding the physical development or moral progress of Madagascar, as you know it is now a French province, with a Governor General and staff, all appointees from France. The Government is doing considerable to open up the country by means of telegraphs, railroads, turnpikes and canals. At Paris they recently voted sixty millions francs (12 million dollars) for a railroad from here to Tananarivo, the capital, 200 miles from here, over a mountainous and broken country. The capital is situated on a plateau 5,000 feet above sea level, with a climate cool and bracing. Here at Tamatave a fireplace or heating stove in a house are unknown appendages. The Hovas for a long period were the rulers previous to the conquest and occupation by the French, who by diplomacy – "force and iron will" – the means usually adopted by the strong when a coveted prize looms in the distance, added an immense territory to their colonial possessions. But perhaps in the interest of civilization the change is not to be deplored. The Hovas were a superior class of Madagascan people the rulers being men of education and ability, but not equal in quality or quantity to cope with the energy, wealth and military prowess of a power like France.
The mental and physical conditions of the great bulk of the natives were not, and are not, inviting; they were held by a mild system of slavery, a system that in substance still exists under French rule as to forced labor on public works. The severity of tasks and bad rum are said by a friendly society at Paris in its protest "to be fast decimating their number." The French Government, however, are establishing an extension of schools for the natives, where industrial training will be the marked feature, and which on yesterday, the occasion being an official visit the Governor was pleased to pay me, I took pains to extol; as you know industrial training is my pet. The General wisely remarking, "we wish first to place the present generation in a position to earn more money, so they will be able to give their offspring a higher education if they wish." The English, Norwegians from America, the Friends and other missions, are doing something for their educational and moral progress, but the appliances are meager compared with the herculean task that awaits them.
There is, however, this difference in the problem here. There are colored men occupying places of prominence as officials, as tellers in banks, clerks in counting-houses and merchant stores. Here it is condition, and not color, wealth and position, the "open sesame." On social occasions the brother in black is in evidence, without special notice of the fact, and, strangest of it all, on the following day the sun and other heavenly bodies seem to stand or revolve in their accustomed orbits. My health has been good, although the bubonic pest, periodical in its visitations, has been alarming in the suddenness of its destruction of life. In the spring it is again expected to alight without "healing in its wings." But I will not longer dwell on Madagascan peculiarities, many of which, as elsewhere, are not chastening. What I am interested in, and want to know about is, how you are getting on with the "old grudge?" If I judge correctly from the journals that reach me, that during my near three years' absence, its status, unlike renowned grape-juice, has neither dissipated or improved by lapse of time, and that lynching and disfranchisement still have the right of way.
The expansion of our sovereignty is fraught with complications, and onerous duties from the statesman, the zeal of the humanitarian, and of reformers and friends of equitable government, unflinching determination are required, that kindness and justice shall be ceded to the people thereof. But is the prospect for the dissemination or ascendancy of these virtues either bright or promising? If the exercise and enjoyments of these attributes are not granted to millions of the American household, is it reasonable to expect they will dominate abroad? There is reason for apprehension that our cousins in the East will find little change of despotic tendencies amid the rank and file of American adventurers. The philosophy of our system of government seems out of balance. Cicero wrote "that excessive liberty leads both nations and individuals into excessive slavery."
But amid the lights and shadows that environ the Negro, he is neither undeserving of the assistance rendered, and indispensable for educational development, which has been generous, and for which he is grateful, although handicapped by a prejudice confronting on so many avenues of industry, and forbidding his entry. Not undeserving for patient and non-anarchist in the realms of labor, his right to possess and enjoying equality of citizenship is written with blood and bravery on the battlefield of every war of the Republic where he "fell forward as fits a man." Munificent contributions of Christians and philanthropists, for missionary work abroad, are greatly in evidence, given with a self-complacency of duty done; but, however, fail to vivify the declining pulse-beat for equality before the law and justice at home. Manifestly there is an absence of that arraignment and condemnation of wrong done the weak, that contributed so largely to abolish the "corn laws of England" and slavery in the United States. History is the record that it is the men of moral courage and heroism who by pen and voice, that sociality and gain cannot intimidate and combat evil in their very midst that "leave footprints in the sands of time."
I must close this letter, already too long. Don't regard me as a pessimist. I know that Bacon wrote that "men of age object too much," but the fact is, Cooper, it has been so long since I heard a Fourth of July hallelujah chorus that I am getting out of tune.
McKinley has been again nominated, I see, and doubtless will be elected, with a Congress in harmony, thus giving the party another lease of power, which, God grant, let us hope, may redound to the welfare of all the people. Say to my many friends that they are, "though lost to sight to memory dear." Truly your friend,
M. W. GIBBS.
CHAPTER XXII
The Island of Madagascar was discovered in 1506 by Lawrence Almeyda, a Portuguese; but the Persians and Arabs are said to have known it from time immemorial. The island is divided into 28 provinces and is said to contain two hundred millions acres of excellent land, watered on all sides by streams and large rivers. Its two highest mountains are Vigagora in the north and Batistmene in the south, said to contain in their bowels abundance of fossils and valuable minerals. This island, situated near the eastern coast of Africa, with 300 miles of the Mozambique Channel intervening, is 1,000 miles in length and varying from 200 to 400 miles in width, and is supposed to have been in remote ages a portion of the continent of Africa and that the progenitors of its people were to that "manor born;" others that the channel was crossed in canoes and Madagascar populated.
Rev. W. E. Cousins, an English missionary, in a late edition of "Madagascar of Today," says that "its people are not on the whole an African people, and much of its flora and fauna indicate a very long separation from the neighboring continent. Particularly notable is the fact that Madagascar has no lions, deer, elephants or antelopes, which are abundant in Africa; the people generally are not Africans, but belong to the same family as Malays and Malayo Polynesians." How the Malayon came to be the predominant language has exercised the thoughts of many, Africa being not more than 300 miles from the west coast of Madagascar, whereas the nearest point, Malayon Peninsula, is 3,000 miles away. That the distinct type of African presents itself in large numbers of native population is beyond question.
For much of the following as to the religion, morals and customs of the Madagascar people, I am indebted to Rev. Cousins, the missionary above referred to, and a work entitled "Madagascar, or Drury's Journal," edited by Pasfield Oliver and published in 1729. Robert Drury was an English lad that ran away from home, was shipwrecked, and held in captivity by the natives for 15 years, and redeemed by Captain Mackett, commanding the "Prince of Wales" in the East India Company's service. Also to the "Island of Madagascar," by Abbe Alexis Rochon, a learned Frenchman, who visited the island in 1767 and made an extensive report.
Mr. Oliver mentions that there are authors who say that the religion of these people is Mahometanism, but he is at a loss to know from what they drew their conclusions, since their sacrifices and their antipathy to revelation; and, besides, at the only place where a Moorish ship (Mahometan) came, swines' flesh is eaten. These obviously show that there can be nothing in more direct opposition to it. There is no one circumstance like it, except circumcision, and that is well known to those learned in ancient history to have been common to some Eastern nations, even before the Jews had it, and where there is no reason to think the name of the Jews was ever heard, and we have more reason to think that the Jews derived a great deal from them instead of they from the Jews; that their religion is more ancient is evident for several obvious reasons.
First, by their regarding dreams and divining by them, which so early as the Mosaic law the Children of Israel were warned against.
Secondly, these people shave their hair all off in mourning for the dead. This Moses expressly commands the Israelites not to do, and the Jews do superstitiously observe this last and suffer their hair to grow in their mourning.
Thirdly, Moses commanded none but males to be sacrificed. On the contrary, these sacrifice cows for the most part. They have no burnt offerings but near their sepulchers, which with gum, burnt likewise, may only arise from a defense of cadaverous scents.
Fourthly, but the most remarkable instance of all is, that the "owley," which these Madagascar people divine by and procure most extraordinary dreams, is evidently the Ephod and Teraphin which the Levites used who lived in Micah's house (see Judges 17) and which the Israelites could never be wholly brought off from, though contrary to their law. Some have taken these Teraphin for images like a man, and there seems a show of reason in it from Micah, Saul's daughter putting one in David's bed to deceive her father's messenger, while he escaped. This, it is possible, alludes to some divination by the Teraphin which she used in his behalf, for Teraphin is the plural number; therefore, could not signify only one image; neither could the gods which Rachel stole from her father, Labon, be one god as big as a man, for she sat on them and hid them. The word is here in the original "Teraphin," although translated gods. Then, in Hosea, chapter 3, verse 4, "an image, an Ephod and Teraphin," are all mentioned in one verse, plainly showing that they are distinct things. It is further to be remarked that by this Teraphin they invoked the dead, which is exactly the same as these people do by the "Owley" always invoking the spirits of their forefathers, which is expressly forbidden to Israelites, and often sharply inveighed against by the prophets.
That these people had not their religion from any polite or learned nation is by their retaining no notion or meaning of letters, nor their having a horse among them, either for carriage or other use, which could never have been forgotten had they ever had it.
Mr. Oliver positively asserts that these Madagascar people came from Africa, and is certain on account of their color, while other writers think most of them to be descendants of Malays.
Captain Mackett, previously mentioned as the redeemer of Robert Drury from his 15 years' captivity, states that Devon (King) Toak, often told him they had a tradition of their coming to the island many years ago in large canoes; "but," says Captain Oliver, "let them come from where they will, it is evident that their religion is the most ancient in the known world and not much removed from natural religion, and whether the Egyptians and Canaanites had their religion from them, or that they are Egyptians originally, it had its rise long before the Children of Israel were in bondage, for Egypt was then a very polite country, and although idolators, they were not any more so than their neighbors before Abraham's time.
"The respect due from children to parents is taught them early by those parents and grows with them, besides the gratitude naturally arising to those who have fed and protected them when they were helpless infants. So it is no wonder to find a law there against cursing parents. The notion of the Being of one Supreme Author of nature arises from natural reflection on the visible harmony and uniformity of the universe and seeing that men and things did not produce themselves. The reverence due to this stupendous Being is only of a pious and rightly amazement, dread and respect. The testimony was everywhere uniform that where Europeans or Mahometans had not corrupted them they were innocent, moral and humane.
"Physically the island has lost none of its picturesque character, so vividly portrayed by Abbe Rochon more than a century ago, who wrote 'The Traveler,' who in pursuit of knowledge traverses for the first time wild and mountainous countries, intersected by ridges and valleys, where nature, abandoned to its own fertility, presents the most singular and varied productions, cannot help being struck with terror and surprise on viewing those awful precipices, the summits of which are covered with trees as ancient perhaps as the world. His astonishment is increased when he hears the noise of immense cascades which are so inaccessible that it is impossible for him to approach them. But these scenes, truly picturesque, are always succeeded by rural views, delightful hills and plains, where vegetation is never interrupted by the severity and vicissitudes of the seasons. The eye with pleasure beholds those extensive savannas which afford nourishment to numerous herds of cattle and flocks of sheep. Fields of rice and potatoes present also a new and highly interesting spectacle. One sees agriculture flourishing, while nature alone defrays almost all the expense. The fortunate inhabitants of Madagascar need not moisten the earth with their sweat; they turn it up slightly with a pick-axe, and this labor alone is sufficient. They make holes in the ground at a little distance from each other and throw into them a few grains of rice, over which they spread the mold with their feet. And what proves the great fertility of the soil is that a field thus sown produces an hundred-fold. The forests contain a prodigious variety of the most beautiful trees, such as palms of every kind, ebony, wood for dyeing, bamboos of an enormous size, and orange and lemon trees." The Abbe's picture is quite enchanting, for it seems that "every prospect pleases."
A view of Antananarivo, the capital of Madagascar, in the word-painting of Cameron, a war correspondent of the London Standard, is interesting. "Antananarivo was in sight and we could plainly see the glass windows of the palace glistening in the morning sun, on the top of the long hill upon which the city is built. It was Sunday, and the people were clustering along the foot-paths on their way to church or sitting in the grass outside waiting for the services to begin, as they do in villages at home. The women, who appeared to be in the majority, wore white cotton gowns, often neatly embroidered, and white or black and white striped lambas, thrown gracefully over their shoulders. The men were clad also in cotton, white cotton pantaloons, cotton lambas, and straw hats, with large black silk band. In the morning sun the play of colors over the landscape was lovely. The dark green hills, studded with the brilliant red brick houses of the inhabitants, whose white garments dotted the lanes and foot-paths, contrasted with the brighter emerald of the rice fields in the hollows. The soil everywhere is deep red, almost magenta, in color, and where the roads or pathways cross the hills they shine out as if so many paint-brushes had streaked the country in broad red stripes. Above all, the spires of the strange city, set on top of its mountain with a deep blue sky for a background, added to the beauty of the scene.
"It was difficult to imagine that this peaceful country, with its pretty cottages, its innumerable chapels, whose bells were then calling its people to worship, and its troops of white-robed men and women answering the summons, was the barbarous Madagascar of twenty years ago."
Mention of the form of government had by the Madagascar people and which is now being superseded by occupancy of the French and the introduction of laws of a civilized nation, may not be out of place. As far back as tradition will carry, there existed in Madagascar a kind of feudalism. Villages were usually built on the hilltops, and each hilltop had its own chieftain, and these petty feudal chiefs were constantly waging war with each other. The people living on these feudal estates paid taxes and rendered certain services to their feudal lords. Each chief enjoyed a semi-independence, for no strong over-lord existed. Attempts were made from time to time to unite these petty chieftains into one Kingdom, but no one tribe succeeded in making itself supreme till the days of Radam I, who succeeded in bringing the whole of Imerina under his government, and to his son, Radama, he left the task of subduing the rest of the island. By allying himself closely with England, Radama obtained military instruction and carried war into distant provinces. He ultimately succeeded in conquering many of the tribes and his reign marked the beginning of a new era in Madagascar. Indeed, only from his days could Madagascar in any sense be regarded as a political unit.
In one direction, however, the results of Radama's policy must be regarded as retrogressive. Before his reign no chief or king was powerful enough to impose his rule upon the people without their consent.
Opposition to rule, without the consent of the governed, has been the shibboleth with which liberty has rallied the votaries of constitutional government in all its reforms. It was the magna charter extorted from King John at Runnymead – the trumpet call echoing and re-echoing by hill and through valley in our Declaration of Independence. Before Radama, although rude and primitive in form, it was the basic principle cherished by the people of Madagascar. The principal men of each district had to be constantly consulted and Kabary, or public assemblies like the Greek or the Swiss Communal assemblies, were called for the discussion of all important affairs, and public opinion had a fair opportunity of making itself effective.